Saturday, December 31, 2011

Growing Older

One of my favorite hymns is this one, penned by hymn writer William Gay:

Each winter as the year grows older,

we each grow older, too

The chill sets in a little colder;

the verities we knew seem shaken and untrue.

So even as the sun is turning

to journey to the north,

the living flame, in secret burning,

can kindle on the earth and bring God’s love to birth.

This day, New Year’s Eve, is where Christmas meets Advent again—not Advent in the liturgical sense, but a secular one, our pregnant waiting for the new year to come in.  We make new year’s resolutions; we gather with friends and family to watch the ball drop at midnight.  Our culture has ritualized this time of new beginnings, of welcoming in the new year.

But, as the hymn text above reminds us, another year means we’re another year older, a reminder of our mortality.  Still, the fact that days have been getting longer for over a week now as the sun makes its annual journey back to the north is a reminder of the renewal of life, the cycle of death and resurrection that we easily gloss over in holiday festivities.

As churches await Epiphany on January 6, these twelve days of Christmas become difficult for us to wrap our liturgical heads around.  What do we do in this time?  How do we continue to celebrate the birth of Christ while the rest of the world has moved on to celebrate the new year?  There are no easy answers.  Perhaps this is where worship must come home with us as worshipers:

O Child of ecstasy and sorrows,

O Prince of peace and pain,

brighten today’s world by tomorrow’s,

renew our lives again; Lord Jesus, come and reign!

As we celebrate the new year, let us also continue to celebrate the One who makes all things new.  As we welcome 2012, let us welcome anew the One born to us in the fullness of time.  As we make new year’s resolutions, let us remember the One who makes alive by killing, who brings death to the old self and resurrects the new.

May your new year be filled with God’s richest blessings.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

A Case of the Bah-Humbugs

I’ll admit it.  Part of me is glad Christmas is over.  Sure, part of me laments the demise in our Western culture of celebrating the full 12 days of Christmas.  But there’s a part of me that finds Christmas to be my least favorite holiday in the church year.

Yes, there’s the over-commercialization, and we would do well as churches to fight against it.  But that’s not why I tend to dislike Christmas.  For me, Christmas is irksome because it tends to come across as dripping with sappy sentimentalism and nostalgia, focusing way too much on the cute little baby in the manger.

Don’t believe me?  Well, when was the last time you saw a Children’s Good Friday pageant?  When was the last time your congregation clamored for singing just one Easter hymn during Lent?  Easter just doesn’t have the same emotional pull that Christmas does.

So what’s a congregation to do?  I have no answers, only questions.  How can we take Christmas deeper than just sentimental trappings?  How can we involve children in more meaningful ways than simply throwing them onto a stage to sing our favorite carols, or dress them up like angels and wise men?  Is baby Jesus really what Christmas is all about?  Making a big to-do about the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger may be missing the point.  After all, it’s surely not insignificant that only two of the four gospels record a birth narrative. Is there not more to Christmas that we can focus on?

Perhaps you disagree with me.  Perhaps I’m just venting frustration, but I think these questions deserve real thought on all our parts.  How does your church stay countercultural in the face of the holiday season?  Does your church hold a “blue Christmas” service to minister to those for whom Christmas is not filled with “good tidings of great joy?”  Or what about an end of the year healing service?  What other ways might congregations transcend the trivial during this time?

Monday, December 12, 2011

The Participatory Church

I stumbled across this blog post by Steve Knight over at Knightopia. In it, he quotes Eric Weiner in a recent New York Times op-ed piece:

“We need a Steve Jobs of religion. Someone (or ones) who can invent not a new religion but, rather, a new way of being religious. Like Mr. Jobs’s creations, this new way would be straightforward and unencumbered and absolutely intuitive. Most important, it would be highly interactive. I imagine a religious space that celebrates doubt, encourages experimentation and allows one to utter the word God without embarrassment. A religious operating system for the Nones among us. And for all of us.”

Knight argues that this movement is already here, with such people as “Brian McLaren, Doug Pagitt, Rob Bell, Shane Claiborne, and Peter Rollins (among others)” leading the way.  Going on, Knight challenges worship leaders across denominations to consider this idea of “participation” seriously, pointing out that many churches do things to people rather than inviting them to participate in the doing.

I’m a bit torn by all of this.  Part of me sees the Church throughout history, at its most faithful and life-giving, as just this sort of thing: engaging people, inviting them, making room for them, being “interactive” and “experimental.”  In other words, there’s nothing new under the sun in his assessment—this is what the Church, at its finest, simply does.  Good liturgy is truly “the work of the people”: it is participatory, interactive, experimental.  Good liturgy also flows into mission, sending people out into the world to be Christ—how much more interactive can you get than people feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, healing the sick, etc.?

On the other hand, part of me disagrees with the assessment of Knight and one of his sources, Dr. Bolger that we live in a “participatory” culture shaped by the internet.  At least in my experience—and therefore this is purely anecdotal evidence—the context of my ministry has been rarely a culture of participation.  It’s more like pulling teeth to get people involved.  It is a small fraction of people who actually sing in worship (assuming they even show up for worship) and truly interact with one another in the ways that would truly transform the world were they to do so.

In the book Habits of the Heart, Robert Bellah writes about Joe Gorman, a dedicated volunteer in Joe’s community of Suffolk:

"As a traditional American patriot, Joe Gorman deeply cherishes the American ideal of freedom, even though in many ways it is precisely the ideal of freedom that makes his dream of a united Suffolk family impossible to achieve. The success of Suffolk's family spirit depends, as he has discovered, on the willingness of a few people like himself to volunteer freely to sustain community life with their own efforts. Yet he recognizes that very few people in Suffolk are willing to undertake the burdens of sharing community life, and that a man like himself is therefore likely to become exhausted, repeatedly finding himself the only volunteer."

The sort of participatory culture required for the Church to engage the world in a “ministry of reconciliation,” as the apostle Paul wrote, requires the sort of hands-on, in-the-trenches work that the internet culture tries to avoid: people shop online so they don’t have to deal with real people in a store; people give offerings to missions so they don’t have to volunteer at the soup kitchen; congregations hire full-time staff to do the work of ministry that would otherwise require the coordinated efforts of laity.  In other words, the culture of participation needed by the Church is, I would contend, incompatible with the participatory culture shaped by internet and technology, one characterized by privatization..

To summarize: I think the Church, at it’s best, is precisely what Weiner wants—straightforward, unencumbered, intuitive, interactive, experimental, participatory.  It has always been that in one form or another.  But the culture around is is not one that can support the sort of corporate work ethic that the Church requires, a disparity that I suspect will only continue to worsen.

Perhaps you have a different take on the issue.  If so, please share it!

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Waiting in Anticip...ation

Here we are: the first week in Advent. With Black Friday madness fading in the memory, we're reminded still that the busy holiday season is upon us. In Year B, the weeks of Advent transport us from themes of watching and waiting (week 1); to preparing ourselves, our families, our community, and our world for Christ (week 2); to joining John the Baptist as a living proclamation of Christ’s coming (week 3); to assurance that God is truly at work in the world (week 4). As we prepare to tear open our gifts on Christmas, may we also find ways to prepare our hearts, for God promises to “tear open” the heavens and come down (Isaiah 64.1; Mark 1.10).

What does your Advent look like? Perhaps your songs may be in more minor keys than usual, tempos may be slower than usual, and the energy and excitement may be less intense than usual. To those for whom Advent is a foreign concept, this shift in the affect of worship is all part of the rhythm of life as it is lived out in our worship. To some, this may seem dry and lifeless, but these value judgments prevent us from embracing Advent for what it is: a time to reflect, to slow down, and to prepare. As any good musician knows, the rests are just as important as the notes. Advent prevents the Christmas season from overtaxing us. If we simply charge ahead into Christmas at full throttle, we will be burned out before we ever get to the celebration. How many of us really maintain the joyous holiday spirit for the full 12 days of Christmas that last until January 6? I don’t know about you, but some years, by the time December 26 rolls around, I’m ready to turn off the Christmas music, box up the decorations, and burn the tree!

Advent calls us to a different way of living, one of patience, confession, and personal reflection. Watch for Christ. Prepare for Christ. Proclaim Christ. Live Christ.