Roll Over, Beethoven, Revisited
A speaker at TENS Conference (aren’t y’all glad I went to that?) offered an observation that made me sit up straighter for a few minutes. He said that we Baby Boomers must not assume that one of our most firmly-held convictions-- that the language and music of worship must be revised to suit our present theological, social, and artistic sensibilities—will be shared by our children and our children’s children. This development would delight those of our parents who are still living, but it will be a huge challenge to the present “established” generation, especially those who have worked so tirelessly, and with the conviction of absolute certainty, for inclusive language. [Yes, we Boomers are the generation in power now, a difficult concept for us to grasp, since we have defined ourselves as those who “rage against the Machine.” Now, we ARE the machine.]
A word of comfort: it is not that our children do not agree with us on such matters as gender equality and “diversity,” with all the layers of blending that code word implies. It is just that their minds are not fixated on the struggle, which they see as our struggle, not theirs. They are past that. Our battle was over “inclusion.” Theirs might be better identified as “connection.” “I am more than the sum of my cell-phone directory,” I heard someone say. Younger adults and teens crave connection with something larger than themselves and the present moment. Example: the Latin mass is back in the Roman Catholic Church. It doesn’t matter that younger people understand it even less than their parents did. It matters that it bridges the centuries. “Mystery” is in--again.
Here we sit, this Episcopal Church that defines itself as being larger than the present moment. All of a sudden, we may not be so out of it after all. Wouldn’t it be funny if we completed our shift into cultural relevancy in the eyes of one generation just in time to become irrelevant to the next one. Some implications for us:
• Rite One may not be dead after all. Book of Common Prayer 1662 may not be, either!
• The way we DO liturgy may be more important than the liturgy itself. Inclusive, yes—transcendent, even more so.
• We don’t need to give up on chant, even very ancient forms, to reach moderns. We need to make those forms more accessible by teaching, repetition, and practice.
• Deliberate excursions into historic practices may bear fruit. Take heart, religious communities, you may become cool again!
• Our rootedness in history doesn’t make us passé. It makes us more genuine.
All this does not mean that we can put the brakes on developing new, contemporary, “emerging church” liturgies. It just means that life continues to get more complicated, not less so. The successful congregation may be the one that does, well something, authentically and well.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
A Volley from the Canon, #39
TIPS FOR SMALL CONGREGATIONS
At the TENS Conference (The Episcopal Network for Stewardship) last week in Tennessee, my counterpart for the Diocese of North Carolina, Bill Renn, made some comments on small congregations that I find worthy of passing along. Bill says that it is really easier for a small congregation to become a healthy congregation than it is for a large one: fewer people to get transformed! A congregation becomes a healthy congregation, he says, when its member know and embrace their mission, and take it as their ministry to accomplish it (gee, that sounds familiar—but remember, this is from Bill!)
“Don’t do bad liturgy!” he warns. If you have a choir of three, and they don’t sound so good, don’t have a choir! (See why I’m quoting him by name here?) If there are twelve in the congregation and the quality of their singing ranges from inaudible to wish-it-were-inaudible, then don’t sing hymns! If your organist sounds like the funeral parlor musician she is, complete with that out-of-control base pedal, then don’t have an organist! It is better to have no music at all than to have bad music.
How do we have an effective liturgy, then, without music to fall back on? With careful planning and execution, that’s how. First, anyone who is to read scripture must be selected for their skill, not just their willingness. Both the prayers and the lessons must be delivered clearly and distinctly, and with some expression. If the liturgy does not sound like it has any meaning to the readers, then it won’t to the listeners, either. The judicious use of silence is a great substitute for music, too. What would be wrong with providing the opportunity for private prayer in worship? An appropriate poem or dramatic reading, well selected and well presented, could easily take the place of music. And how about the worship space itself? A piece of art for the occasion, or an arrangement of significant objects, in a place where they could be viewed by the congregation, could contribute significantly to worship. Even moving furnishings around (horrors!) to emphasize a season or a point from a lesson could be meaningful. Rote worship can be thrown together in minutes with little planning and no practice, but good and meaningful worship takes time and planning. Yet it is the responsibility of all worship leaders to provide spiritually enriching worship experiences every time we invite people to gather at the church.
At the bottom of it, the point is that small churches should not strain to act like big churches. Why have a “procession” consisting of the priest carrying the processional cross, and nobody following, just because the one enrolled acolyte slept in that morning? A procession is not a requirement for Episcopal worship, and it is a device for moving numbers of people into the worship space. If we don’t have the numbers, we don’t need the device.
Small congregations can be wonderful communities, rich in relationships and spiritual depth. They just need to know and claim who they are, and give up trying to be what they are not.
At the TENS Conference (The Episcopal Network for Stewardship) last week in Tennessee, my counterpart for the Diocese of North Carolina, Bill Renn, made some comments on small congregations that I find worthy of passing along. Bill says that it is really easier for a small congregation to become a healthy congregation than it is for a large one: fewer people to get transformed! A congregation becomes a healthy congregation, he says, when its member know and embrace their mission, and take it as their ministry to accomplish it (gee, that sounds familiar—but remember, this is from Bill!)
“Don’t do bad liturgy!” he warns. If you have a choir of three, and they don’t sound so good, don’t have a choir! (See why I’m quoting him by name here?) If there are twelve in the congregation and the quality of their singing ranges from inaudible to wish-it-were-inaudible, then don’t sing hymns! If your organist sounds like the funeral parlor musician she is, complete with that out-of-control base pedal, then don’t have an organist! It is better to have no music at all than to have bad music.
How do we have an effective liturgy, then, without music to fall back on? With careful planning and execution, that’s how. First, anyone who is to read scripture must be selected for their skill, not just their willingness. Both the prayers and the lessons must be delivered clearly and distinctly, and with some expression. If the liturgy does not sound like it has any meaning to the readers, then it won’t to the listeners, either. The judicious use of silence is a great substitute for music, too. What would be wrong with providing the opportunity for private prayer in worship? An appropriate poem or dramatic reading, well selected and well presented, could easily take the place of music. And how about the worship space itself? A piece of art for the occasion, or an arrangement of significant objects, in a place where they could be viewed by the congregation, could contribute significantly to worship. Even moving furnishings around (horrors!) to emphasize a season or a point from a lesson could be meaningful. Rote worship can be thrown together in minutes with little planning and no practice, but good and meaningful worship takes time and planning. Yet it is the responsibility of all worship leaders to provide spiritually enriching worship experiences every time we invite people to gather at the church.
At the bottom of it, the point is that small churches should not strain to act like big churches. Why have a “procession” consisting of the priest carrying the processional cross, and nobody following, just because the one enrolled acolyte slept in that morning? A procession is not a requirement for Episcopal worship, and it is a device for moving numbers of people into the worship space. If we don’t have the numbers, we don’t need the device.
Small congregations can be wonderful communities, rich in relationships and spiritual depth. They just need to know and claim who they are, and give up trying to be what they are not.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A Volley from the Canon #38
SUNDAY CLOTHES
She had loved everything about the Sunday Eucharist, she reported--the music, the sermon, the prayers. Yes, people had been very welcoming and friendly. She experienced nothing of the guilt and rejection that had been laid on her in her former congregation. But feeling better about oneself is not accomplished in a single hour. The young single mother and her baby would not be coming back. “I just don’t have the clothes,” she admitted apologetically.
I had met her when I delivered some baby items to her housing-project apartment. We talked for a while, and I invited her to attend worship at our church. I was thrilled to see that she actually followed through, so much was she in need of a less harshly judgmental expression of Christianity. We did fine in word and deed. Then we blew our whole witness by wearing fancy clothes to church. We expressed our judgment on a different level.
This was when I discovered a gender gap in our congregation that I had previously been blind to. The younger men, particularly, had taken happily to my suggestion that some of us needed to be more casually dressed in worship in order not to intimidate the unwary newcomer. And when casually dressed, they looked—casual. But the women seemed unwilling or incapable of making that sacrifice. Even their jeans were imposing to the fashion-challenged.
And why not? I now wonder. They were just being themselves. They shouldn’t have to take turns looking sloppy, just to express their evangelistic zeal. Still, I wonder what became of that young woman, and others like her, torn between fire and brimstone on the one hand and an unreachable level of fashion achievement on the other.
Dr. Sherri Smith, of that congregation, later began an organization called “Dress for Success” to help women present themselves favorably for job interviews and new professional work environments. What a helpful idea! I wish I had known of it then. With a little tact and discretion (since she brought up the subject), perhaps I could have directed that young mother to some friendly and helpful women who would have been pleased to assist her in dressing and feeling more comfortable and acceptable in the new environment. Fitting in, after all, can work from more than one direction.
She had loved everything about the Sunday Eucharist, she reported--the music, the sermon, the prayers. Yes, people had been very welcoming and friendly. She experienced nothing of the guilt and rejection that had been laid on her in her former congregation. But feeling better about oneself is not accomplished in a single hour. The young single mother and her baby would not be coming back. “I just don’t have the clothes,” she admitted apologetically.
I had met her when I delivered some baby items to her housing-project apartment. We talked for a while, and I invited her to attend worship at our church. I was thrilled to see that she actually followed through, so much was she in need of a less harshly judgmental expression of Christianity. We did fine in word and deed. Then we blew our whole witness by wearing fancy clothes to church. We expressed our judgment on a different level.
This was when I discovered a gender gap in our congregation that I had previously been blind to. The younger men, particularly, had taken happily to my suggestion that some of us needed to be more casually dressed in worship in order not to intimidate the unwary newcomer. And when casually dressed, they looked—casual. But the women seemed unwilling or incapable of making that sacrifice. Even their jeans were imposing to the fashion-challenged.
And why not? I now wonder. They were just being themselves. They shouldn’t have to take turns looking sloppy, just to express their evangelistic zeal. Still, I wonder what became of that young woman, and others like her, torn between fire and brimstone on the one hand and an unreachable level of fashion achievement on the other.
Dr. Sherri Smith, of that congregation, later began an organization called “Dress for Success” to help women present themselves favorably for job interviews and new professional work environments. What a helpful idea! I wish I had known of it then. With a little tact and discretion (since she brought up the subject), perhaps I could have directed that young mother to some friendly and helpful women who would have been pleased to assist her in dressing and feeling more comfortable and acceptable in the new environment. Fitting in, after all, can work from more than one direction.
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