The Slow, Beautiful Goodness That Is The Local Church

Christians in the blogosphere spend a good deal of time critiquing the church.  I spend a good deal of time on critique as well.  That’s fair enough.  The church deserves the criticism.  We need the accountability and opinions to keep us on the right track and in unity with Christian tradition.

What I don’t hear enough, in the midst of all the critique, is what the church has done for us lately.  A testimony if you will.  Those of us who spend our time critiquing the church still show up on Sunday and still worship each day.  Our critique hasn’t made us lose our need for the church.  And that is because the church is good.

Sometimes we don’t see the goodness of the local church because it is a slow, beautiful goodness.  At the wedding I was in this past weekend it struck me how over several years so many people within our local church community had been wrapped up in each other’s lives (in a good way).  We have lived life together, worshiped together, gone through the same sacred moments together.

The goodness comes only through the long, slow look.  It is best savored.

I stumbled upon the joyous thought that our local church has been so good during the rehearsal when I watched our friends practice their vows in the same place Sarah and I had done so four and a half years ago. In retrospect we were just a small yet integral couple to the ever increasing life of our local church.  When we look at so many of our friends wedding pictures we all have the same background.  We all have our church’s baptistery behind us, and the communion table whispering to us “Do this in remembrance of me.”

And we have remembered him, all of us, for better or worse. So much good has happened since we joined this community of faith.  The local church, for better or worse, whether richer or poorer, through good times or bad has done its job.  We have held our vows to each other, to be the body of Christ to the world and to one another.

Sure the local community has failed me and other people over the years.  But that critique stems from events here and there and the collective humanity of us all.  The collective, when compounded by time, is a testimony to the beautiful relationships we have all fostered with one another and the sharpening of our spirituality as we proceed through life together.

It happens so slow, this beautiful goodness.  And I delight in the thought that the longer we sit at the table together and love one another through thick and thin we will not be disappointed.

Tales from the Cafetorium Part 2

I had never contemplated the possibility of grape juice freezing during a worship gathering, but I must confess the thought half-heartedly crossed my mind this past Sunday.

Schools don’t like to keep their heat on during winter break to save on environmental costs, and understandably so.

But it was cold.  I was shivering in church.  While playing drums.

My wife was wearing a set of my winter gloves and her jacket.

Others were wearing their jackets with their husband’s jackets draped over their legs.

It was cold.

Religious communities are called to worship.  We American Christians have spent a lot of time, effort, and money on making our calling as comfortable as possible.

We did not have that luxury on Sunday.  It will be back to normal this weekend I am certain, but for this one service I wondered at the prospect of worship in our community.  We are a church plant, and there is something a bit more radical about the community that forms within the infant years of a church.  Yet what was radical is that no one left.

We are so used to comfort.  I really liked that no one left.  We were there to worship, teeth chattering and all, and that was a really beautiful experience.

Tales from the Cafetorium, Part 1

Main Entry: caf·e·to·ri·um
Pronunciation: -ˈtȯr-ē-əm
Function: noun
Etymology: blend of cafeteria and auditorium
Date: 1952
“a large room (as in a school building) designed for use both as a cafeteria and an auditorium”

-Merriam Webster’s dictionary

Our church plant meets in a cafetorium.  It’s a cafeteria housing food fights and pubescent gossip hour by day, an auditorium for middle school orchestras by night.  And our worship space on Sundays.

When I started out on my liturgical journey I often thought about what it would be like to worship in a sacred space that is both beautifully made and purposeful.  I never felt like rejoicing much in the evangelical churches with four white walls I had been in for several years.  Then again, I don’t feel like worship much in a place that is so beautiful and ornate there is a sense of “do not touch” on the grounds.  There has to be a median between prim and pragmatic.

Such aesthetic discussions are jettisoned when you meet in a cafetorium.  It reeks of institutionalization, with numbers on the wall for table setup, a gigantic dividing wall, and not so comfy chairs (the older members of our church have been known to bring their own cushions!).  There’s even an emergency eye wash station (that we do not use as a baptistery even though that would be pretty cool).

Whenever I imagined myself reading prayers or serving communion I always had a regal, high church sense about it.  I never expected to participate in such holy acts of worship within the confines of architectural purgatory known as school design.  Schools are rarely beautiful, and if so, the beauty is a facade for an architecture that is used to control the actions of students. Not much beauty in that.

Yet it is the space in which we pray, sing, listen, sit silently, take communion in and give tithes in.  It is our space, and we do the best to redeem it.  In a sense we truly create a sacred space because we are worshiping in a place that has been purposefully stripped of all sacramental value in order to be a utilitarian structure void of artistic value.  Yet in the void, there is a community of worship.  There in the void is God.

Drinking Wine and Community

The Church and Postmodern Culture blog recently featured an article dealing with many of the themes I bring up on this blog concerning liturgy and community.

In his piece "The Liturgical Turn: Public Display of Worship" Eric Speece notes concerning wine and community:

Wine, in
this [sacramental] way, as a part of that same [Eucharistic] blessing, suggests both feast and
community.  Wine must be shared.  If hoarded and possessed as a commodity
it only leads to drunkenness, which is a misuse of the drink.  However when properly shared, it brings
joy to all and gives the community a sense of transcendence.

This is a great approach to alcohol, as well as food and leisure.  We are not made to be alone, but to share all in hospitality. In old stories even the hermits, when someone comes to their door, greet the travelers with hospitality and feasting (along with wisdom).  We make the world sacred through the sharing of Christ’s work in anticipation of the Great Feast.

Featured throughout Speece’s discussion is the work of Gordon Lathrop in Holy Things: A Liturgical Theology.  Read my review of that book here.

For Good Friday: The “Stations” Service

As I participated in planning the first Good Friday service at The Plant I wrote
four different services, each unique in their own way and highly
adaptable to many different traditions and needs.

The other three services are available for download here (Seven Words A), here (Seven Words B), and here (Stations of the Cross Service).

I have attached a copy of the "Stations" service as a pdf.  The full text of the service is after the jump

“Stations” Service

Summary: There would be four stations set up chronicling the important events that lead up to the crucifixion. The congregation would break up into groups and switch stations after each reading/prayer (there would have to be four or five readings or prayers).

First Station: The Last Supper
The group would read a passage from the Last Supper and take communion together.

Second Station: The Trial
The group would read the trial passage and reflect on “who we say Jesus is.”

Third Station: The Denial of Peter
The group would pray that they do not deny Christ but take up his cross along with them.

Fourth Station: The Crucifixion.
The seven words of Jesus on the cross would be read and reflected on.

Meditation: After the congregation has completed all of the stations they would gather and stand as a three to four minute meditation is preached. All would exit quietly.

Setting: The room would be dim the whole time, dark enough to create ambiance but with enough light that people can read.

Note: This service is especially ideal if the church either (A) has a large room or (B) wants to combine their Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services.  We often forget how seamlessly the Last Supper flows into the passion of our Lord.  This service takes those gathered through the flurry of events that culminated in the crucifixion.

For Good Friday: Stations of the Cross Service

As I help to plan the first Good Friday service at The Plant I wrote
four different services, each unique in their own way and highly
adaptable to many different traditions and needs.

The other two services are available for download here (Seven Words A) and here (Seven Words B).

I have attached a copy of the service as a pdf.  The full text of the service is after the jump

Stations of the Cross Service

Summary: The stations of the cross would need to be amended for time, so this would not    be a strict following of the Stations of the Cross as much as a motif of the journey toward the crucifixion.  The stations could be grouped together like this:

First Station:   (1) Christ condemned to death–(2) the cross is laid upon him

Meditation: Christ has died for our sins.

Second Station:  (3) His first fall–(4) He meets His Blessed Mother–(5) Simon of Cyrene is     made to bear the cross–(6) Christ’s face is wiped by Veronica

Meditation: Others bear the burdens of Christ
 
Third Station: (7) His second fall–(8)He meets the women of Jerusalem

Meditation: We are called to be his witnesses, in both hardship and joy
 
Fourth Station: (9)His third fall–(10) He is stripped of His garments–(11) His      crucifixion–(12) His death on the cross

Meditation: Christ has died for our sins

At this point communion would be served.  (If your tradition does not celebrate communion, the elements should be taken out of the sancuatry during the benediction)

Fifth Station:  (13) His body is taken down from the cross–(14) laid in the tomb.

Benediction: The final two stations would be the benediction as people are dismissed     in quiet: “Christ has been taken down from the cross, he has been laid in     the tomb.  He said he would rise in three days…”

Setting: The candles would be extinguished throughout the service until all is dark.