Thoughts about liturgy
27/03/14 05:26
There are a lot of terms that we throw around and frequently use in a rather imprecise manner. Recent conversations with colleagues have involved discussions about the liturgy of worship. We think that we know what we mean by the use of the word “liturgy,” but we might benefit from a more precise definition.
In general use, there are many who make the distinction between “liturgical” and “non-liturgical” churches. The general use of this distinction has to do with the degree of traditional, and often ancient, elements present in worship. Liturgical churches use common elements in worship that have ancient roots. Elements such as doxologies, glories, ancient formal prayers and the order of the celebration of the Eucharist are seen as liturgical elements. Obviously, this definition allows for a wide range on a spectrum from congregations who always employ the same elements in worship to congregations that use innovative and new elements in every worship service. Most congregations fall somewhere in-between the extremes.
Conversations with my colleagues often assume basic familiarity with traditional forms of worship. There are elements in our worship services which have been present in worship for hundreds of years. But we also speak of crafting new liturgies - using new words and expressing ancient traditions in fresh ways. We often have a common meaning when we speak of liturgy.
However, I was momentarily confused by a conversation with a member of a popular congregation in our town. This person used the word “liturgy” to mean a set order of service. In the mind of this person “non liturgical” churches, a category to which he considered his own congregation to belong, improvised worship. There was no set order of events and what occurred was unscripted. For this person, “liturgical,” meant having a prescribed order of events. It was almost as if this person thought that planning and preparation somehow inhibited the experience of the holy in worship. The notion was foreign to me. I have invested much of my life in careful planning of worship. To simply “wing it” is not an appropriate approach to such important work in my mind.
The general definition that we use for liturgy in our part of the church is the “work of the people.” That is a fair translation of the original Greek term. In English we often use the word “service,” which is appropriate, it seems to me.
Technically the term leitourgia was applied to the obligation of the financial burden carried by rich citizens and the honors that were awarded to those who paid for elaborate public ceremonies. In ancient Greece, these were not so much religious ceremonies, but rather public events. Certain festivals were so elaborate that they required benefactors. The wealthy who sponsored and paid for the festivals were given honors during the festivities as well as public recognition in other spheres. To have a leitourgia was to have a large financial obligation, but it also meant having a privileged place in society.
We don’t use the term in that sense at all. We speak of the liturgy as the service of all of the people. We gather regularly for services of worship in which the people focus their attention on God and offer our liturgy. The liturgy is composed of words, music and other elements that come from both ancient and contemporary sources. Crafting the order of this service is one of the major focus of my work and of my life. I take the job seriously and there is no small amount of work that goes into decisions about which songs to sing, what order to place the events, how to manage the elements, connections with the traditions of the church, use and interpretation of the bible and many other elements. I see the liturgy as a conversation between the congregation and God. In that conversation, we are deeply aware of the history of that relationship and so we take seriously historic prayers, songs and other elements. Those elements, however, take place in the midst of the present realities of the community. When a member of our congregation dies, we grieve together. When new members are baptized, we celebrate together. The events of the world influence the choices we make about our worship. It is a continuing conversation.
We never get worship perfect. We work hard. We follow disciplines. And we remain human. Sometimes we try things that work better than other things. Sometimes our new ideas fall short of our expectations.
It is work. And it is meaningful work. It is worthy of time, energy, and effort.
I have no idea whether or not others see our congregation as a “liturgical” church. I guess we are seen as such by congregations that don’t recognize the seasons and colors of the year. I think we are seen as less so by congregations that use specific prayer books and more highly stylized orders of worship.
What I do know is that worship creates a context for other service that we do. A church is not a social service agency. We do help people who have needs. We do try to contribute to the well-being of others. We do provide services for those who have needs. But we do so in the context of trying to provide opportunities for people to connect with God. Our primary motivation for delivering firewood to our neighbors, for example, is not simply that we have recognized a need. It is that we have recognized that God is working in the lives of those with deep need and when we join in that work we ere drawn closer to God. There is a liturgy of a splitting party or a firewood delivery. We do employ prayers. We do have our own rituals. But no one would confuse such work with the celebration of the Eucharist as described int he Book of Common Prayer.
What is deeply meaningful, it seems to me, is that we practice a deep hospitality in the service or liturgy in which we participate. We are careful about extending an invitation to others to join in our work. We are deeply aware of how new members shape and transform our community. We are committed to continually exploring how we involve others in the on-going story of the relationship between God and the people of God.
For what it is worth, the English word based on the Latin for servant, minister, is a reasonable title for all Christians in my mind.
Servants serve. If that means ministers engage in liturgy, that’s fine with me. I belong to a congregation that is filled with ministers and I am honored to be one of them.
In general use, there are many who make the distinction between “liturgical” and “non-liturgical” churches. The general use of this distinction has to do with the degree of traditional, and often ancient, elements present in worship. Liturgical churches use common elements in worship that have ancient roots. Elements such as doxologies, glories, ancient formal prayers and the order of the celebration of the Eucharist are seen as liturgical elements. Obviously, this definition allows for a wide range on a spectrum from congregations who always employ the same elements in worship to congregations that use innovative and new elements in every worship service. Most congregations fall somewhere in-between the extremes.
Conversations with my colleagues often assume basic familiarity with traditional forms of worship. There are elements in our worship services which have been present in worship for hundreds of years. But we also speak of crafting new liturgies - using new words and expressing ancient traditions in fresh ways. We often have a common meaning when we speak of liturgy.
However, I was momentarily confused by a conversation with a member of a popular congregation in our town. This person used the word “liturgy” to mean a set order of service. In the mind of this person “non liturgical” churches, a category to which he considered his own congregation to belong, improvised worship. There was no set order of events and what occurred was unscripted. For this person, “liturgical,” meant having a prescribed order of events. It was almost as if this person thought that planning and preparation somehow inhibited the experience of the holy in worship. The notion was foreign to me. I have invested much of my life in careful planning of worship. To simply “wing it” is not an appropriate approach to such important work in my mind.
The general definition that we use for liturgy in our part of the church is the “work of the people.” That is a fair translation of the original Greek term. In English we often use the word “service,” which is appropriate, it seems to me.
Technically the term leitourgia was applied to the obligation of the financial burden carried by rich citizens and the honors that were awarded to those who paid for elaborate public ceremonies. In ancient Greece, these were not so much religious ceremonies, but rather public events. Certain festivals were so elaborate that they required benefactors. The wealthy who sponsored and paid for the festivals were given honors during the festivities as well as public recognition in other spheres. To have a leitourgia was to have a large financial obligation, but it also meant having a privileged place in society.
We don’t use the term in that sense at all. We speak of the liturgy as the service of all of the people. We gather regularly for services of worship in which the people focus their attention on God and offer our liturgy. The liturgy is composed of words, music and other elements that come from both ancient and contemporary sources. Crafting the order of this service is one of the major focus of my work and of my life. I take the job seriously and there is no small amount of work that goes into decisions about which songs to sing, what order to place the events, how to manage the elements, connections with the traditions of the church, use and interpretation of the bible and many other elements. I see the liturgy as a conversation between the congregation and God. In that conversation, we are deeply aware of the history of that relationship and so we take seriously historic prayers, songs and other elements. Those elements, however, take place in the midst of the present realities of the community. When a member of our congregation dies, we grieve together. When new members are baptized, we celebrate together. The events of the world influence the choices we make about our worship. It is a continuing conversation.
We never get worship perfect. We work hard. We follow disciplines. And we remain human. Sometimes we try things that work better than other things. Sometimes our new ideas fall short of our expectations.
It is work. And it is meaningful work. It is worthy of time, energy, and effort.
I have no idea whether or not others see our congregation as a “liturgical” church. I guess we are seen as such by congregations that don’t recognize the seasons and colors of the year. I think we are seen as less so by congregations that use specific prayer books and more highly stylized orders of worship.
What I do know is that worship creates a context for other service that we do. A church is not a social service agency. We do help people who have needs. We do try to contribute to the well-being of others. We do provide services for those who have needs. But we do so in the context of trying to provide opportunities for people to connect with God. Our primary motivation for delivering firewood to our neighbors, for example, is not simply that we have recognized a need. It is that we have recognized that God is working in the lives of those with deep need and when we join in that work we ere drawn closer to God. There is a liturgy of a splitting party or a firewood delivery. We do employ prayers. We do have our own rituals. But no one would confuse such work with the celebration of the Eucharist as described int he Book of Common Prayer.
What is deeply meaningful, it seems to me, is that we practice a deep hospitality in the service or liturgy in which we participate. We are careful about extending an invitation to others to join in our work. We are deeply aware of how new members shape and transform our community. We are committed to continually exploring how we involve others in the on-going story of the relationship between God and the people of God.
For what it is worth, the English word based on the Latin for servant, minister, is a reasonable title for all Christians in my mind.
Servants serve. If that means ministers engage in liturgy, that’s fine with me. I belong to a congregation that is filled with ministers and I am honored to be one of them.