The challenge of making casual worship LOOK easy...

Ok, today's mini-rant is for the church/worship geeks.  Others can look on, of course - and even offer wisdom, comments and insights - but this morning I really want to speak about worship, planning and liturgy as art. Specifically, I want to share a few thoughts about how hard it is do blended worship well while keeping the feel informal.

BACKGROUND CONTEXT:  I am the pastor of a small New England Congregational church that is the oldest in town.  We were founded in 1764 when you needed a Congregational church to create a town in Massachusetts.  In our various incarnations we have been the "country club at worship," the meeting house for the town's political and economic leadership, the pace-setter for introducing new styles of worship and a bastion of neo-orthodoxy.  With the near economic collapse of Pittsfield, however, and the subsequent departure of thousands from the area, First Church has slowly changed.  To be sure, there were always poor and working class members in the body, but their voice was modest given the ethos of the past.

Now we no longer celebrate or ascribe to a "theology of glory" despite the fact that our building looks like an Anglican cathedral from the 1850s - and our old reputation still haunts community perception.  No, today we are a mostly middle class congregation of professionals - educators, physicians, money managers, consultants - with a number of retired members and a growing community of children under the age of 14.  Once our median worship age was 70+ - today it is closer to 45.  Many of our newer members have come from the Roman Catholic diaspora following the pedophilia scandals of the 90s.  We are solidly neo-orthodox in our theology, disciplined with acts of social and personal compassion and justice in our praxis and keenly committed to nourishing our spirits, bodies and souls in worship.

And under my leadership, our worship style has become boldly eclectic and radically inclusive in an informal way - and herein lies the challenge.  I have insisted that we not segregate worship into so-called traditional and contemporary camps.  Been there, done that and while it is easier I think it is also theologically dishonest and aesthetically limited.  After all, if we are to be praising God forever amidst all the tribes of creation after this life is over, why should we limit our worship to the sounds of 19th century England and Germany?  Why not join in as the whole creation cries glory and find ways to include songs from every culture and context? 

Same goes for the flow of our liturgy:  why limit ourselves to the worn-out ways of mid-20th century Protestantism that is both rigid in style and hackneyed in content?  Kathleen Norris once observed that most Protestant worship in the US is simultaneously wordy and immobilized as if the only thing we honored was the mind (and perhaps our tongues!)  So, if we genuinely affirm the incarnation - where God's WORD became FLESH and dwelt among us in truth and grace - let's find creative and satisfying ways to use our whole bodies in worship, yes?  Let's move - and feel - and sing - and touch - and smell - and see - and taste. Are you with me?

CHALLENGE:  To do this in a way that is organic AND informal takes a TON of planning.  It is not something that can be thrown together late Thursday afternoon in order to get the worship bulletin printed.  Nor can it be done in isolation - musicians, clergy and worship leaders need to be in regular conversation to discover what the Spirit is saying to the people.  And this type of liturgy cannot be created without a clear vision of how each discrete element of worship fits and flows into the next.

Every week, as a rule, I spend 25 hours in preparation for Sunday worship.  That includes Bible study, research, conversation, rehearsal, writing, editing, set up, etc.  And if I find what we've created doesn't work - doesn't flow - then we need to change course midstream and even start all over again. That's one critical aspect of making Sunday morning a true celebration of the Lord AND a welcoming front door for people to enter into God's grace.  Preparation is key and so often overlooked.

And there are two other issues that deserve mention:

+ Most Protestant clergy have not been trained in what some traditions call liturgics.  We haven't learned the "theatre" of worship - or the poetry required - or the flow of body with spirit.  Each week we "dress" the Sanctuary so that it visually communicates something of the message of grace on an intuitive level.  Each week we sing and feel our way through the parts of the liturgy so that they fit together.  Each week we search and listen to the hymns and songs to see if they are, in fact, singable.  Each week we look at what is happening in the liturgy and try to build in at least 12 or more places for congregational participation taking account of all the senses.  Without this type of attention, it is easy to fall into a rut - or worse - to create a worship experience that is what my old mentor called "a box car" encounter with the institution:  4-5 discrete sections (hymn - reading - message, etc) - that are stand alone performances that have nothing in common and don't create a flow from one to the other.

+ In addition to all the planning and listening and creativity required, I believe that contemporary aesthetics demands a mostly understated and casual style of worship leadership.  People no longer trust our institutions - with good reason - so we can't pontificate or use arcane theological terms.  Worship today needs to speak to the heart in tender and clear ways.  I have come to use a lot of everyday life humor as a way of showing both my vulnerability and where God meets me in the ordinary.  Mostly I no longer wear vestments - only for the high celebrations of Advent/Christmas/Epiphany, Lent/Easter/Ascension or Pentecost - and mostly my movement in the Sanctuary is casual, too.

And here is where it often hits the fan:  because we are so well practiced and researched, I can use a very causal worship style because all the stops on the journey have been carefully considered.  I know where we're starting and where we're going to end and can gently lead the congregation.  Like Gertrud Mueller Nelson writes in To Dance with God:  a celebration or a parade needs a leader - someone committed to engaging and encouraging all the participants to join the blessings - and without this leadership, celebrations and parades fizzle.

That's what I have experienced all too often in most "low church" worship over the past 30 years.  It fizzles - it doesn't flow or evoke beauty - it mistakes a casual worship style with lack of intentionality.  How many times have I seen worship include a hasty throwing together of a basket, napkin and loaf of bread on a table in the hopes that this will suffice for the celebration of Eucharist?  How many times have I heard someone stumble through a reading they've never seen before?  Or fumble through a message they wrote on a napkin on the drive over to church that morning?  Or had no idea how to organize a procession so that people bump and trip in an awkward display of poor planning rather than lead the congregation towards the security of God's grace?  (As you might notice, this list could go on for pages...)

MY SOLUTION:  So, here's what I've come up with to address this issue in both my congregation and/or my participation in ecumenical events.  Our worship team of laity meets every month to discuss both the special celebrations of each liturgical season as well as to consider aspects of texts I have given them to read and study.  For special times, they create subgroups that work with me to decorate the Sanctuary, create new liturgical readings, discover new and more creative readers, etc.  Each week I share a draft of the liturgy with my music director and band mates - and make sure we address it during weekly Tuesday night practice, too.  Seasonally this whole group evaluates how the flow and feel of worship worked - keeping records for the future - and making changes as necessary.  After six years, we have an organic process that helps all of us take worship seriously with joyful hearts.  We use the internet constantly to share new thoughts and changes, too.

In the wider ecumenical realm, I have come to insist that if we are going to do an event together, then we we must do serious planning well in advance of each event - and have time to critique and correct before the gathering - and also commit to evaluation afterwards.  With the risk of being labeled a liturgy snob or worship Nazi, I have also made it clear that any event in our Sanctuary cannot be created by committee.  I will welcome and include all suggestions, but my worship team will plan and deliver so that there is cohesion and clarity.

I know this pisses some people off.  I know it smacks of arrogance in our pseudo-egalitarian culture.  But without standards and accountability - without excellence and expertise - too often worship (and don't even get me started on church meetings!) fizzles and falls flat with sloppy theology and uncreative liturgy. Ok, my rant is over: what do you think?

ps:  One more realization about planning and style:  when worship is well planned and well executed, it makes EVERYONE from guests to old timers feel more secure.  They can rest in the flow knowing that even if things are new, they won't be surprised or left to figure things out for themselves.  And that is only respectful and wise on any journey,yes?  Again, I don't know how many times I've been asked to sing a song nobody knows and nobody has practiced.  Or been led through a poorly designed Eucharistic liturgy that leaves me limp and out in the cold.  Or had to sit through a worship service that had no ceremony, drama or imagination to it - so much so that even the worship leader looked disconnected.  As the leader of the journey, good planning and careful execution are simple acts of hospitality in pursuit of beauty and truth.