The Wesley Covenant Prayer

This evening (December 31) many churches – though not nearly as many as once was the case – will be holding Watch Night services.  These gatherings mark the end of the calendar year and the beginning of the new.  Such assemblies may spend a little time reflecting on the year past, but their primary concern is what lies ahead.  The new year carries with it a sense of turning the page, of starting with a clean slate and undertaking a fresh, new set of hopes.  The opening of a new planner and the making of resolutions signal an opportunity for doing things a bit differently than has been the case in the past.

The Wesleyan tradition includes a bit of liturgical material known as The Wesleyan Covenant Prayer.  Although John Wesley did not compose this prayer, he adapted it for Methodists and printed it in a pamphlet called Directions for Renewing our Covenant with God in 1780.  In 1784 when Wesley issued The Sunday Service of the Methodists; With Other Occasional Services to be used by the Methodists in North America, he included this prayer as part of A Service for Covenant Renewal.  This service has informally become known as The Wesley Covenant Service.  At the heart of this observance is this prayer:

I am no longer my own, but thine.

Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.

Put me to doing, put me to suffering.

Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,

exalted for thee or brought low for thee.

Let me be full, let me be empty.

Let me have all things, let me have nothing.

I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.

And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

thou art mine, and I am thine.

So be it.

And the covenant which I have made on earth,

let it be ratified in heaven.

Amen.

I offer this prayer as a word of hope for the days ahead.

Happy New Year!

The Seventh O Antiphon – O King of the Gentiles

O KING OF THE GENTILES and their desired One, Cornerstone that makes both one:

Come, and deliver us whom you formed out of the dust of the earth.

Rejoice!  Rejoice!  Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

Some translations render this opening line as “King of Nations.”  While we could spend a lot of time on this differentiation, the spirit in the Antiphons is the same.  There is an understanding that the several titles for the Messiah that the Antiphons employ up to this point have tended to hold their significance for the Hebrews alone.  “King of Nations” (plural) or “King of the Gentiles” affirms the proclamation that the good news is for all people.

The prophets foretold such: For a child has been born for us, a son given us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  This is an oft-quoted word from  Isaiah 9:6.  He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.  This foretelling is also from Isaiah.  It is Chapter 2, verse 4.  Among the plenteous others is Isaiah 64:8: But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.

The Antiphons individually and collectively are a rich source of worship material and grounds for seasonal reflection.  It has meant a great deal to me to plumb their depths even a little bit in this season.

The Hanging of the Greens

It is the practice of many Christian congregations to place seasonal items in their sanctuaries in the Advent and Christmas season.  Some of these churches refer to “decorating the church.”  That is an accurate description for what they do and why they do it.

In United Methodist churches and in the sanctuaries of other liturgical denominations or congregations, what happens at this time of year is that our sanctuaries are appointed for Advent.  “Decoration” implies that something is arranged in the sanctuary because it is attractive, or for mere visual effect.  Liturgical churches place nothing in the worship space that does not directly involve the worship of God.  Now, certainly, these can be beautiful.  I am second to none in my appreciation of well-executed stained-glass windows or of worshipful tapestries.  Sappy quotations (no matter what the medium) or secular Christmas trees do not fall under the category of “appointments.”  I understand that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  And without going into detail, I assure you that I have worshiped in some sanctuaries that contained some of the most garish items you can imagine.  But, applying the above criteria, they had their place.

The Hanging of the Greens is a worship service during which the various seasonal appointments are either physically placed or – more often – are interpreted for the congregation.  These appointments include (but are not limited to) an Advent Wreath, evergreens, candles, a Chrismon tree, holly wreaths and garland, poinsettias, lights and bells.  The entire worship service can be a deeply meaningful time for congregants as their “ordinary” worship area is transformed into a seasonal wonder.

It is frequently the practice to call attention to a given appointment, to read a scriptural passage related to the item, to have the element interpreted and then to have a piece of seasonal music, either congregational or offered in some other fashion.

The Hanging of the Greens models a practice that we follow all too seldom: the regular and specific interpretation of sanctuary appointments – seasonal or permanent – for our churches.  Maybe we can embrace that paradigm more fully.

Continuing some thoughts on Hoyt Hickman's worship work

The late Hoyt Hickman, one of the Deans of modern United Methodist liturgical thought, wrote a book titled Worshiping with United Methodists.¹ In it, he sought to answer the question, “What is Christian worship?” He listed five assumptions that characterize Christian worship.  His fourth notion is: Worship should be relevant and inclusive.

“Relevant” is a word from which I nearly turn and run.  I get it.  I even agree with it.  And, I am hard-pressed to find a fully appropriate alternative.  But I spent so long – particularly during my seminary years – listening to all kinds of people harp on “relevance, that to this day it makes my skin crawl.” 

It is certainly the case that what the church does, and this is nowhere more vital than during worship, should be germane to the lives of its membership.  It is also true that sometimes our worship can be so dated and full of bells & smells that it might as well be in Latin.  Worship that does not connect with the real lives of worshipers is no worship at all.

My knee-jerk reaction to the R-word is based on my experience of people who acted as if “relevance” was something they could package.  They might not know what it was, but they knew it when they saw it.  It is as if they could impose relevance on the worship event with a guitar and sandals.

My take on worship that is relevant is that it meets people where they are and connects them with the Spirit of God.  That means that a great deal of the heavy lifting must be done by worshipers.  Because for all else that happens in worship, the focus is on God.  Worshipers bring a gift of adoration and praise to God Almighty.  It is not up to Christian worship to foster a feeling or emotion or even a state of mind.  Christian worship is about bringing worshiper to the Worshiped.  When worship fosters an opportunity for the congregation to assemble at the foot of the Throne of Grace – that, y’all, is relevant worship.

¹Nashville: Abingdon, 1996.

Continuing some thoughts on Hoyt Hickman's worship work

The late Hoyt Hickman, one of the Deans of modern United Methodist liturgical thought, wrote a book titled Worshiping with United Methodists.¹  In it, he sought to answer the question, “What is Christian worship?” He listed five principles that characterize Christian worship.  His third principle is:

Spontaneity and order are both important.

This is one of the great tensions in both worship planning and worship execution.  Some communions have a worship service that is almost completely scripted.  The Roman Catholic Missal or the Episcopalian Book of Common Prayer contain almost every word that the worship leader and congregation speaks.  Take out the parish notices and the sermon/homily and everything else is there.  These traditions find comfort in these ordered services.

On the other hand, thee are worship traditions that have little or no printed matter.  A worship bulletin may serve to convey announcements and calendars.  But the worship portion itself may do little more than list hymn numbers and scripture references.  The position here is that worship should be almost completely spontaneous.  These traditions hold up the ideal that God “inspires” the worship service and that the entire event takes place under the direction of God.

I must note that these “spontaneous” services are often as rigidly scripted as any prayer book-directed meeting.  While there may be no printed order, or no widely distributed plan, these gatherings often commence in an unalterable fashion.  The call to worship may be a song leader announcing, “All that will, come to the choir.”  The worship time often has a strict (if unprinted) order.  Hymns, prayers, the offering, “special music,” sermon, altar call – the various elements take place in an unalterable order.  Yet the planners and congregants will insist that they are spontaneous and inspired divinely week by week.

I have rarely experienced for myself a worship time that was truly spontaneous, and never at the principal service of worship that a congregation held on Sunday morning.

Hickman says about this principle:

Worship should be open to both the planned and the unexpected movings of the Holy Spirit, who can speak not only through the preacher but through anyone present.  People feel free to follow the Spirit if they have a basic sense of pattern and structure, within which there is freedom and from which one may occasionally depart.  Both rigidity on the one hand and chaos on the other make most people withdraw into their shells. 

I believe that this is a wonderful sentiment.  But truth be known, I don’t have any idea how to exercise the intent with any practicality.  It may only be a slight caricature to suggest, “OK, we’ve had the hymn and the offering, does anyone have anything spontaneous to express before we move on to the prayer?”

Worship requires a certain flexibility.  This expresses itself in different ways in different traditions.  But, as much respect as I have for Hickman, I wish he had said a little more here, because I just don’t get it.  Balance?  Yes.  Order? You bet.  Willingness to adapt to occurrences on a given Sunday?  I’m all about that.  Planning for spontaneity?  That’s still going to take some work.

¹Nashville: Abingdon, 1996

And also with you

 The late Hoyt Hickman, one of the Deans of modern United Methodist liturgical thought, wrote a book titled Worshiping with United Methodists.¹  In it, he sought to answer the question, “What is Christian worship?” He listed five principles that characterize Christian worship.  His second principle is: Active congregational Participation is crucial.

We have all been in worship experiences where the expectation of the congregation was that the people would sing a couple of hymns and put money in the collection plate.  Everything else that takes place is in the front of the sanctuary, inside the chancel (if the church arranges itself that way).  In these settings the worshipers are passive observers of activity carried on by the few: preacher, liturgist, musician(s), perhaps a few others.  This can be an entertaining stage show.  It has little to recommend it as worship.

Authentic worship involves everyone present.  In its purest form it is dialogical.  That is that there is a call-and-response element to the proceedings.  There might be a call to prayer, and then the people pray.  A service might include a sequence of invitation, confession, absolution and passing of the peace.  A prime example of this idea would be that a leader would read a scripture lesson or lessons, someone would preach a homily or sermon, and then the people would respond with an affirmation of faith, doxology, prayer, offering or some other act of commitment. 

This is to say that genuine worship involves the worshipers throughout the event.  The division is not necessarily 50-50 between leaders and congregation, but that is not a bad goal.  The people of God have come together to worship God, not to view a presentation.

The Lord be with you.

¹Nashville: Abingdon, 1996

The Color for the Day

I capitulate.

That leaves the taste of old vinegar in my mouth.

But I give in.  Not give up, but give in.

The paraments, my stole and other appointments in our sanctuary today are green.  It is the color of life.  It symbolizes continuity.  It is the color prescribed by United Methodism (and most of the Christian Church) for ordinary time.  And so, green it is.

You have to understand, that through my childhood and even into the early days of my ministry, The Methodist Church and later The United Methodist Church observed a season of Pentecost that began on Pentecost Sunday and continued through the summer, terminating the last Sunday in August.  Then began the season of Kingdomtide, which carried on to the Sunday prior to the beginning of Advent.  In terms of color, red was the color prescribed for the Season of Pentecost, followed by Green for Kingdomtide.

With the advent of the work of the Consultation on Church Union (COCU) and the liturgical reform movement within United Methodism (which resulted in the issuance of a new Book of Worship in 1992), The UMC discarded the former color scheme and moved to one color – green – for “The Season After Pentecost (United Methodist Kingdomtide)”  With certain exceptions (All Saints’, Reformation Sunday and a couple of others) green is the color of the day.

While the church does not impose these color usages on local congregations (I have been a part of local churches that only had one set of paraments, and therefore only had one color option), this is the accepted denominational “way of doing things.”  I capitulate.  I can no longer in good conscience stand up firmly for the church rubrics with which I am comfortable, or with which I agree, while discarding policy I don’t like.  So green it is.

Green is the color of denominational choice throughout Ordinary Time (so labeled because we count the Sundays with Ordinals rather than with Cardinal Numbers).  So as a sign of my ordination and in symbol of my solidarity with the liturgical practices of my church (with which I do agree on just about every other count), I go green.

Ordinary green.  And that is not a comment on the numbering system.

The peace of the Lord be with you.

This is the word of the Lord

The late Hoyt Hickman, one of the Deans of modern United Methodist liturgical thought, wrote a book titled Worshiping with United Methodists.¹ In it, he sought to answer the question, “What is Christian worship?” He listed five principles that characterize Christian worship.  The first is “God’s word is primary.”  Hickman maintains that it is through the essential element of encountering the word of God that the worshipers discern who God is.

Throughout authentic worship the faith community reads the word.  It proclaims the word through (though not exclusively by) preaching.  Then the church engages in one or more responses to the hearing of the word.  He makes the further point that scripture is not only for the preaching moment but for other elements as well.  In gathering words, prayers, offertories, benedictions and other locations throughout the worship event Bible-based language increases the gravity of worship.

If it is true that encountering the word of God is a vital part of our worship (and I believe it is), then it might be that the community of faith should heighten its efforts to do a better job of handling the word.  This is not a blanket criticism of preaching.  I believe that most pastors take the task of proclamation seriously most of the time.  We have varying gifts, and the judgment is not on “how well a preacher does,” but on the faithfulness of “how conscientious that preacher has been in a given instance.” 

All preachers can testify that there are weeks when weddings and funerals and hospitals and administration and all the rest have crowded study time.  It happens.  It is also the case that our perspective can be skewed by how much effort we believe we have expended.  There is not a preaching minister in the world who hasn’t stepped down from the pulpit on a particular Sunday and thought, “Well, they can’t all be gems,” only to have congregants respond as if the preacher had delivered the Sermon on the Mount.  It is also true that we come out of the worship experience occasionally with the reflection of, “Well, that was a good one.  That’s about the best I can do.”  Then, as we greet people at the door, there is a uniformity in their response which goes something like, “Good morning, pastor.”  As I say, it happens.

I once heard Fred Craddock remark on William Sloane Coffin when Westminster John Knox Press published Coffin’s collected sermons.  Craddock said, “When Bill was prepared, he was the best preacher in the English-speaking world.  Of course, Bill wasn’t always prepared.”

The caution I would offer is not on preaching itself.  It is on the way that leaders handle other elements – particularly scripture-related elements.  I have heard preachers read their text as if they couldn’t wait to get through with it so that they could get to the business of preaching.  I have also heard leaders, lay and clergy alike, stumble through lessons as if it were written in a foreign language.  Sure, if you read Acts 2 or Romans 16 (which are both extensive lists of complicated proper names) that takes a little extra work.  But it is no surprise that these readings are part of the day’s liturgy.  I heard David H. C. Read say in a gathering of preachers, “I experience two categories of preachers when they read scripture in worship.  There are those who act as if they have never seen it before.  Then there are those who act as if they wrote it themselves.”

All I am saying is that, if the treatment of God’s word is of primary importance in worship, let’s take the time to do it right.  Read it (beforehand) aloud.  Get a since of the syntax.  Pause in the appropriate places.  Emphasize the meaningful words.  Handle it so that when we say, “This is the word of the Lord,” people can believe it.

¹Nashville: Abingdon, c. 1996.

We are what we sing -- yet again

It is a valid observation that I am a bit hard on that category of hymnody that many people call “Praise Music.”  That is not a great descriptive title, because it describes – intentionally – contemporary Christian music with simple melodies and simpler lyrics.  The music tends to be highly repetitive and to concentrate on a single, simple idea.

I would contend that “A Mighty Fortress is our God” and “Holy, Holy, Holy” are praise music.  That contention muddles rather than clarifies the discussion, however.

I am a child of my time.  “My time” admittedly pre-dates contemporary Christian music. The contemporary music of “my time” was “And They’ll Know We are Christians by our Love” and “He’s Everything to Me.”  (I will still put the merits of these pieces up against a lot of what I hear today, but that is an observation for another time.)  Still, there are some truths that guide evaluation of our religious music.  Here are some things that come to mind.

A piece of music immediately disqualifies itself as worthy of consideration if it contains the phrase “we just…”  The writer believes it to be a confession of humility and simplicity.  But, the term means “merely,” “only,” “barely,” “quite” and even “almost.”  So, it is “We barely praise you…” or “we almost adore you?”  Even worse, writers employ the phrase as if it were a comma, or when they need another syllable or two in order to fill out a not-so-poetic line.

A piece of music immediately disqualifies itself if it appropriates a stanza of “Amazing Grace” as part of its content.  I reluctantly exclude a handful of well-done medleys.  But, write a song or cover a classic.  Don’t rely on the power of a marvelous free-standing lyric because a contemporary composer can’t find the words to carry the freight.

A piece of music immediately disqualifies itself if it actually makes no grammatical sense.  The stringing together of pious phrases that contain either nouns or verbs, but not both, is a violence to both the language and to the faith.

A piece of music immediately disqualifies itself if it cherry-picks a small portion of scripture out of context and uses it to try to make a case for an issue/topic that doesn’t exist in the larger biblical reading at all. 

A piece of music immediately disqualifies itself if it appropriates Hebrew or Greek words (especially names/titles for God) that are unfamiliar and not self-explanatory.  Note to the lyricist: OK, you found a Bible commentary and learned a new word.  Interpret its use or file it away. 

A piece of music immediately disqualifies itself if it employs a six-word or less phrase and repeats it four times (or more) without any other intervening lyric.  Singing “God is great; great is God,” repeatedly ceases to be praise.  It becomes a monotony that dulls the senses and assaults the soul.  A burden (“There is a Balm in Gilead”) or a refrain (“Blessed Assurance”) is one thing; blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, we just blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah has no meaning, no power and no praise.

We need music in our worship.  We need music in our souls.

Real music.

We are what we sing

The Memphis Annual Conference has just concluded its 180^th – and penultimate – session.  Our pre-conference materials indicated that the full opening session’s initial congregational hymn would be “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing.”  Now, it takes a lot for me to say anything discouraging about this hymn.  It is far and away my favorite piece of church music.  But not for opening Annual Conference.

The first hymn that a conference session sings traditionally is “And Are We Yet Alive.”  I won’t say that this has been universally so, but I believe that it won’t miss that mark by much.  The hymn is, in part:

And are we yet alive,

and see each other's face?

Glory and thanks to Jesus give

for his almighty grace!

Preserved by power divine

to full salvation here,

again in Jesus' praise we join,

and in his sight appear.

What troubles have we seen,

what mighty conflicts past,

fightings without, and fears within,

since we assembled last!

Yet out of all the Lord

hath brought us by his love;

and still he doth his help afford,

and hides our life above.

Then let us make our boast

of his redeeming power,

which saves us to the uttermost,

till we can sin no more.

Let us take up the cross

till we the crown obtain,

and gladly reckon all things loss

so we may Jesus gain.

The depressing and even combative language has its root in John Wesley’s use of this hymn by his brother Charles as a hymn sung as part of the opening of society meetings and then of annual conferences.  The warfare is sometimes spiritual, but sometimes literal.  Methodists had a reputation as “enthusiasts.”  It was a status that more traditional church folks did not appreciate.  Their expression of that disapproval sometimes took a violent form.  As Methodist spread in the American frontier, the dangers of the wilderness were very real.  “And Are We Yet Alive” was a genuine expression of thanksgiving for the preservation of circuit riders.

Well, as our conference session commenced, the planning committee was “overruled” by the presiding bishop, and the bishop preserved the tradition for another year.

That’s how to start an Annual Conference.

Of Leaders and Leadership

This past Sunday, we called a quick stand-up meeting of all the people present in that worship service who were serving our church as lay liturgists.  The purpose of the gathering was to say a couple of words about a change in “job description” for these volunteers, and I will say more about that soon.

But, my observation on this moment was that there sure were a lot of folks there!  When I first got to the meeting site there were five or six people standing there.  That many again were approaching, and so I began.  But, in the few ticks of the clock in which we assembled, the people just kept on coming.  By the time I was through, there were easily two-dozen individuals standing there with me.  And, truth be known, everyone on our roster didn’t happen to be present that day.

I wish I had had the presence of mind to say to the rest of the worshipers who were still in the sanctuary, “Look!  Look at this great number of people who give of themselves in the leadership of worship.”  We sometimes take our volunteers for granted.  Or worse, think that no one is doing anything in support of the work of the church. 

It may sometimes be difficult to draw people into certain church jobs.  But, when this number of people say, “I want to contribute to the worship life of my faith community,”  I am heartened beyond my ability to describe.

The Feast of the Resurrection of the Lord

Today is The Feast of the Resurrection of the Lord.  “Easter” is a word that means “spring.”  It is not a church word.  It is not a faith word.  And it is absolutely not a biblical word.  Oh, I know that the church has appropriated all sorts of words and customs and calendar dates through the years.  And this is not the beginning of a futile campaign to ban “Easter” from the language.  What I do want to do is to highlight the true, festive nature of our celebration.  It is not a day for abbreviations or shorthand. It is a day for new Easter outfits.  The men should wear suits and ties.  The women should wear hats, maybe even gloves.  This is a season when high school girls are wearing $1000 dresses for a one-time trip to the prom.  How is it that they then wear jeans with holes in the knees to church today?  The fellows look like they’re headed for the golf course.  What in the name of the Easter Bunny happened to “Sunday best?”

I understand that it is not important (in the great scheme of things) what we wear, but the vital thing is where we are.  I also recognize that “informal” and even “casual” are important concepts for some congregations.  People give the excuse for their lack of participation in church activities as, “The people there are too stuffy.  They wear starched collars and high heels, and that is just not my thing.”  That’s a great excuse, isn’t it?  Question: if God phoned for an appointment; told you to be at the Pearly Gates at 2 o’clock a week from Thursday, and that St. Peter would escort you to the throne of Grace from there, what would you wear?

I know that the day is about the Empty Tomb and not about clothing.  But what we wear is a sign of the importance we attach to a given event.  I don’t know of anyone who has seriously sought a new job that didn’t check the mirror before they went through the door for the interview.  The Old Testament has scores of accounts of the apparel that people are to wear in certain religious circumstances.  Matthew 22 has a grace-filled story about folks gathered from the highways and byways to attend the wedding banquet of the son of the king.  But there was one guest who did not wear the appropriate wedding garment, and the king commanded that this offender be ejected from the proceedings.

I understand priorities.  And I don’t want to be a wet blanket.   But it is The Feast of the Resurrection of the Lord.  What is truly appropriate?

An important question

It was my privilege to receive a confirmation class into full membership in worship yesterday.  The ritual for that service is a beautiful thing.  It is not as familiar as some other liturgical materials because many of our congregations do not receive professions of faith as often as we would like.  As part of that order, the candidates join in the “Renunciation of Sin and Profession of Faith.”  That act includes the question:

On behalf of the whole Church, I ask you:

Do you renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness,

   reject the evil powers of this world,

   and repent of your sin?

I know of people who roll their eyes at this question.  “Spiritual forces of wickedness” and “evil powers of this world” strike them as being medieval.  The only vision they have of these forces and powers is of a red-suited, horn-headed, pitchfork-carrying caricature.  It is the cartoon character who, when faced with an ethical dilemma, finds a little angel on the shoulder whispering in one ear and a miniature devil perched on the other and offering contrary advice. 

I fall into the camp of, “If The United Methodist Church includes the terminology in its ritual, there must be something to it.”  This is not blind allegiance. Rather, it labels something that I cannot quite otherwise describe.  It is kind of like the wind.  I don’t so much see the spiritual forces of wickedness or the evil powers of this world as I see their result.  I see the misery that these influences bring into lives.  I see the chaos in the political and economic world.  I know what they can do.

So, it is important for the community of faith to “renounce” and “reject.”  In order to do that we must acknowledge.  So, to my skeptical friends I would say that the forces and powers want you to disbelieve.  They deeply desire that you see their presence as something that children and the simple accept.  That is how they get their toeholds. 

For myself, I renounce them and reject them.

Of lections and lectionaries – one more time

In the discussion of lectionaries let me be quick to say that there are numerous lectionaries that appear throughout history or that are in use today.  There is a four-year, thirty-two-weeklectionary that campus ministries use to move a campus community through worship life in a campus setting.  There is a resource called The Narrative Lectionary that is picking up a lot of traction recently, especially in churches with a more contemporary emphasis to their worship.  Having said all this, I confine most of the rest of these thoughts to the RCL.

The question frequently arises: “Why use the lectionary at all?”  Akin to that is, “Does the church compel you to use the lectionary?”  Answering the latter first, the answer is a profound, “No!”  The Revised Common Lectionary is a resource, but a voluntary one only.

As to the question of “why?” there are several responses.  First, it makes planning a lot easier.  If you have been reading these thoughts from the beginning, you know that my initial query was, “What to preach?”  The RCL gives me a tool in the face of that necessary question.  The preacher always has a right to depart from the lectionary for a day, a season or a year if need be.  But it is handy to have these suggestions in one’s back pocket when staring at a blank piece of paper.

Again, having such a resource makes planning a different activity altogether.  I have a lifelong friend who is old school.  He looks to circumstance, to occasion and inspiration for his selection of preaching texts.  This practice has served him just fine.  He has found a way to make planning for this approach work for him.  He will admit that he can’t (or doesn’t) plan as far ahead as lectionary users, but he believes that this keeps his approach fresh and not “canned.”  I got that.  If that works for someone, my hat is off to them.  I like the safety net of being able to look a week, a month or a season ahead and at least have an idea of the possibilities.

Using a lectionary also helps people with other worship responsibilities (musicians, providers of visuals, etc.) do their preparation.  A lectionary user can say to these folks, “In all probability this is what I’m going to do on a given Sunday.”  A preacher might even take the next step and commit to the lectionary for a certain period and take the guesswork out altogether.

There is some strength in knowing that churches of your denomination – or other denominations – just down the road will be focusing on the same scripture reading that you are this Sunday.  Water cooler talk the next day becomes, “My preacher talked about thus-and-so yesterday.”  Others can respond, “Mine, too.”  This can result in in truly meaningful dialog across congregational or denominational lines.

Lectionary preachers often find that their denominational Sunday School lesson books and other educational materials follow the lectionary.  This integrates Christian education and worship so that church people can be immersed in a passage or topic.  Close cooperation allows teachers to pursue parallel themes to those that the preacher presents in worship.

Preaching a lectionary will also compel a preacher to visit some unfamiliar ground.  The preacher might even face uncomfortable texts that we never would have considered if we were pursuing well-known (and well-worn) readings.

It is also the case that for some of us, if we are left to our own devices and desires, would tend to preach a dozen favorite passages over and over.  I myself would end up preaching the Sermon on the Mount about 45 Sundays a year.  A commitment to a lectionary helps keep the preacher honest.

It is true that a three-year consideration of the Bible of necessity omits some readings.  The Book of Numbers gets short shrift.  The Song of Solomon, if I’m not mistaken, doesn’t have any readings at all in the RCL.  But, beyond that, there are some substantial texts from the gospels and the epistles that get left out.  It may well be that lectionary preachers would occasionally call a moratorium on its use for the sake of inclusion.  Whatever it substituted for will come back around before you know it.  (Visit this link and go to the question, "Where can I get a list of those passages of the Bible that are not included in the Revised Common Lectionary for Sundays? In other words, what passages of scripture are left out of the Lectionary?")

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to start Sunday’s sermon…

Of lections and lectionaries

In the early, early days of my ministry (we won’t talk about how long ago that was right now) one of my greatest struggles had to do with preaching.  That is not unusual for a young preacher – or any preacher.  The particular struggle did not have to do so much with composition or exegesis or delivery.  My struggle was, “Where to start?”  I didn’t have a lot of luck with pulling a text out of the air or cracking the Bible open randomly and selecting a pericope.

My first time or two I turned to the one-year lectionary in The Book of Worship for Church and Home.  This was the (at that time) Methodist Church’s official worship book.  That lectionary was a bit haphazard and had no internal continuity at all.  It was a place to start, but it was a meager place to begin.

A lectionary is a table of either suggested or prescribed scripture readings for each Sunday of the year, plus whatever holy days a particular group might observe.  Typically, there is a reading from the Old Testament, a separate reading from the book of Psalms, an epistle reading and a gospel reading.  At times in history, or in the practice of some communions, the church or a denomination required the reading of one or more of the texts that it assigned to a particular day.  For other groups a lectionary offered suggestions for reading in public worship. (There are other lectionaries, such as the two-year daily lectionary in The Book of Common Prayer, that are meant for private devotional use instead of public worship.)

I attended an event that offered training in a variety of areas for newly-minted preachers.  It presented material on pastoral care and administration and worship among other topics.  When we started to talk about preaching, the presenter gave each participant a small blue booklet that the Consultation on Church Union (the now-defunct COCU) published.  Its title was simply A Lectionary.  The sub-group responsible was the Consultation on Common Texts.  Initially this group sought to establish common versions of liturgical materials (such as Gloria, Creed, Lord’s Prayer, etc.) that COCU members used in common.  Work on these items determined that the fullest use of these elements in an ecumenical setting would require agreement on scripture that surrounded these other worship pieces.  So, COCU developed this first pass at a jointly-employed lectionary.

In 1983 the group finished its work on harmonizing the variants that various churches within the COCU family employed.  The result was The Common Lectionary.  There were a number of revisions of the initial document.  Many had to do with replacing readings from The Apocrypha that many churches were using in the Old Testament Slot.  The Consultation on Common Texts issued a refined version of the lectionary in 1992.  This Revised Common Lectionary reflected several cycles of use.  Subsequently some tweaks have been made, to the point where some publications refer to The New Common Lectionary. But this is an unofficial title.

I’ll look at this some more tomorrow.

"The Word of God for the People of God"

David H. C. Read was one of the true masters of the Protestant pulpit.  He was a well-known preacher and a brilliant author.  He has been gone a long time now.  But I still vividly remember hearing him speak to a group of ministers when I was just starting out.  He had a lot to say about the craft of preaching.  But the one memorable line for me had to do with that which comes (usually) immediately before the sermon.  He had some remarks about the public reading of scripture.  He said, “I find two kinds of readers in worship.  One reads like they have never seen the text before.  The other reads as if they had written it themselves.”

It was a cautionary moment for me.  I have, since that day, tried very hard to make neither of these errors.  I hear that Scottish accent and that godly admonition every time I step to the pulpit.  Seeking that balance has helped me enjoy reading in the community a great deal. 

But if you light a candle you cast a shadow.  Dr. Read’s observation has made me aware of the tendencies of other worship leaders.  I would not think of naming a name or describing a recognizable circumstance for anything in the world.  It is not up to me to be the scripture police.

Having said that, I do make some general observations about the practice of public scripture reading.  I would recommend to anyone who accepts the charge to perform this act that they read the text several times.  Read it aloud in the same volume and cadence that you plan to use in worship.  Make certain that you can pronounce the names.  Check your phrasing to assure that the way you read makes sense.  Be confident.  And for goodness’ sake, slow down!  No one ever gets criticized for reading too slowly.  But even good readers lose their effectiveness if they rush through the reading.

To others I would say, “Remember the task that is yours!”   You are representing Holy Scripture, the Word of God, to the people of God during their adoration of their Creator.  It simply isn’t an activity that you can take lightly.  A reader can be serious without being somber.  If the reader doesn’t take the texts seriously, how can we expect the worshipers to do any differently?

A reader can’t be timid.  Nor can they murmur.  There is no power in “Mumble, mumble, mumble; this is the word of the Lord.”

This screed would be incomplete if I did not make a general observation on being just plain sloppy.  I see preachers who dash through their text as if they are trying to see how few breaths they can take before finishing.  Some treat the scripture text as if it were some kind of preliminary to get out of the way before the main event.  If they mis-read a lection, they react as if it didn’t make any difference.

When I am in worship, I appreciate that the entirety of the experience is greater than the sum of its parts.  And I am not faulting people who have prepared and executed their dead level best.  People have different gifts and it is important that a wide range of folks join in this vital community work.  What I do ask is that we treat the task with respect, with a sense of the holy.  This may be a worshipers’ only encounter with holy writ the entire week.  Let’s give it every chance to be a positive encounter.

An alternative view

The New Revised Common Lectionary (NRCL) recommends as the gospel reading for today – the first Sunday in Lent – The Temptation of Jesus story from Luke 4:1-13.  The initial reasoning is obvious I think: the passage talks of the forty days of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.  This segues into the 40-day observance of Lent into which the church has just entered.  At that level I suppose that the reading is appropriate.

But, in another consideration, I don’t like this choice at all.  The reason being that, if we equate our experience with that of Jesus¸ then the purpose or emphasis of our Lenten observance must also be with temptation.  You can use the word “testing” or “trial,” but the connotation is the same.  The time of Lent becomes something grim in our eyes.

Sure, Jesus’ fast translates into our practice of “giving up something for Lent.”  But what about the rest?  There is no real corollary in human experience to the call to transform stones into bread.  We are not truly given an opportunity to rule all the kingdoms of the earth.  And while I don’t want to deny the possibility of divine intervention, I can’t remember any contemporary example of someone who jumped from a high place only to be borne up by angels.  The transference just doesn’t hold up.

I do not deny the value – or inspiration – of this or any other passage of scripture.  And, I don’t suppose that there is any biblical passage that is truly inappropriate for any given Sunday or time of worship.  I do wonder, though, about designating this passage or its synoptic counterparts as the Lenten reference.  The gospel readings for the rest of the season of Lent have nothing to do with forty or fasting.  They call to mind other legitimate seasonal themes.

Make no mistake, the Temptation narrative is the gospel text at my church today.  I call to question, though, the implicit position that this is the great table-setter for the season, and that no other passage can carry the freight.  It is not a season about temptation.  It is not a season about the miraculous.  It is a time when real human beings grapple with their own fallenness and the grace of God that delivers them from that Fall. 

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The peace of the Lord be with you.

The Forty Days of Lent

I observed earlier that the season of Lent was forty days in duration.  This stretch of time excludes Sundays.  I’ll say more about that later.  But I want to say a thing or two about the time that the church assigns to Lent.

In its very early days the church devoted only Holy Week to the anticipation of Easter.  Over time the period came to be two weeks, then a month, and finally the church settled on the current duration.

There are a lot of connections to the number forty in the Bible.  God cleansed the earth with a flood that lasted forty days.  Israel wandered in the wilderness forty years in the period of the Exodus.  Moses was on Sinai forty days receiving The Law from God.  David reigned as King for forty years, as did Solomon.  Elijah fasted in the wilderness over a span of forty days.   Jesus’ fast and temptation took place over forty days.  The resurrected Christ appeared to his disciples in a forty-day span prior to The Ascension.  Finally, the Crucified Christ was in his tomb for forty hours.  It should not surprise us, then, that forty days became the duration of Lent.

When the number forty appears in scripture, there is also a sense of fulfillment.  Forty hours or forty days or forty years is “enough” time for the activity at hand.  Forty is sufficient.  It has a connotation of having contained all the time that was necessary to accomplish a given end.

Finally, forty days is roughly one-tenth of a year.  It is a tithe and therefore an appropriate time dedicated as a gift to God.

Yesterday the church began this cycle again.  I pray that we all find our sense of completeness over these forty days.

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday.  It is the beginning of the liturgical season of Lent.  The day gets its name from the historic Christian practice of retaining the palm branches that adorned the church sanctuary on the previous year’s Palm Sunday.  In making ready for Ash Wednesday the church burns the palms and then the priest/pastor applies the ashes in the shape of a cross to the foreheads of those who worship on that day.  Wearing ashes is a traditional sign of penitence. 

In the Bible persons frequently wore ashes as expressions of grief or penitence (2 Samuel 13, Job 42, Jeremiah 6, Daniel 9, Hebrews 9, Matthew 11 and Luke 10 among others). 

When Christian worshipers receive the imposition of ashes in worship, the presider usually says some form of Genesis 3:19, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."  The presider will often conclude with, “Repent, and believe in the gospel.”

Because the date of Ash Wednesday depends on the timing of Easter, this observance moves around the calendar a bit.  It can fall anywhere between February 4 and March 10.

Ash Wednesday marks the commencement of the season of Lent.  These are the forty days immediately preceding Easter (excluding Sundays, which are reflections of Easter Day itself and are therefore inappropriate occasions for denial). 

Some folks erroneously teach that Lent is an extended period of “getting ready for Easter.”  Lawrence Hull Stookey reminds us that

Lent, until its final week, is a time of disciplined consideration of our life and death as transformed by our covenant with God and is closely related to the administration and reaffirmation of baptism at Easter.¹

This season is a kettle that sits on its own bottom.  It is related to – but independent of – our observance of Easter.

The liturgical color for the day (and season) is purple.  This is a solemn hue that represents penitence in the lives of Christians.

The liturgy for the day includes confession and absolution in preparation for the imposition of ashes.  Psalm 51 is a traditional expression of confession and many churches use this as part of their ritual for the day.

^{1 Lzwrence Hull Stookey, Calendar: Christ's Time for the Church}

^{(Nashville: Abingdon, 1996).}

Where two or three are gathered…

I have been pondering a couple of “church lines” for about a day.  One is Matthew 18:20: For where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there among them.  The other is one of the prefaces to several of the Affirmations of Faith in The United Methodist Hymnal and its predecessors: “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is the one true church, apostolic and universal, whose holy faith let us now declare."

I wish I could say that I had been meditating on deep spiritual truth – and maybe I have in ways that I do not yet comprehend.  But the starting place for all this is a bit mundane.  The sewer system in the main building of our church backed up over the weekend.  A want of convenience and hygiene drove us out of that facility.  So, we rather hurriedly set up some folding chairs and a makeshift worship center in our Family Life building and “did church” there.

Several people remarked upon the novelty of the day.  Some even thought that the arrangement had something to recommend it.  (Though I wonder how long we would be happy with hard steel folding chairs after we have gotten used to padded pews.)

I think we’ll be back in our regular space next Sunday.  But this was a graphic reminder that “We are the church.”  It doesn’t take a lot of accoutrements to make that point.