walking the road to emmaus: the value of the liturgy
I know that not everyone who reads this blog comes from a liturgical tradition, but I thought I'd share this article I wrote for our church newsletter. I've started a series on Lutheran faith and worship practices that will run over the next few months. This month I discussed the liturgy--why it exists, what it's meant to do when practiced well and why (in my opinion) it is such an important element in Lutheran worship.
Let’s play word association!
“The Lord be with you.”
Much like the last time I started with this phrase (don’t ask me when that was, but I know I used it), I’m sure most of you immediately responded “and also with you."
“Now the feast and celebration…”
If I were singing while I’m typing there’d be a 6-year-old in the next room chiming in “all of Creation sings for joy…”*
“This is the feast of victory for our Lord. Alleluia!”
Some of you are now singing “worthy is Christ, the Lamb who was slain, whose blood sets us free to be people of God…”** I could go on. And to be honest, just typing these words brings tears to my eyes. I miss them. A lot. And at 33 (for one more month, anyway!) I’m not exactly an old fogey.
These songs are the most visible components of our liturgy. They are just part of a larger framework, however, that is intended to guide and give meaning to our worship. Well practiced, the liturgy connects us to God, each other and to centuries of Christian tradition.
The Lutheran church service (and that of other liturgical traditions) is composed of two parts and mirrors the revelation Jesus’ disciples received on the road to Emmaus. The Liturgy of the Word originates with Jewish tradition and includes scripture readings, psalms and prayers. The Liturgy of the Meal is the sharing of Communion in remembrance of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Just as Jesus first explained the scriptures and then revealed Himself to the disciples along that road so long ago, Christ appears to us first in the Word and then in Communion.
This two-part liturgical structure can be further divided into four pieces: gathering, word, meal and sending. We come together as a community; we hear the word; we eat the meal—here begins part 2—and we go in peace to serve the Lord (thanks be to God!). This basic structure has been in place for centuries. We are part of a community of believers that extends through both space and time.
One commonly cited criticism of the liturgy is that repetition becomes rote and meaning is lost. I would not disagree with the statement that good liturgical practice is intentional, and avoids following tradition simply because that is “how we’ve always done it.”
I question the logic, however of criticizing habits of faith. After all, aren’t we all taught mnemonics and other memory aids in school? Aren’t we all called to make habits of exercise, or healthy eating, or getting enough sleep? How much more important is it to develop good habits of worship—to confess and to welcome, to ask mercy and to praise, to hear the Word, offer our prayers and our gifts, participate in the Lord’s holy meal, and be sent out into the world for another week’s service? When we hear these words and repeat them, they make their way into our hearts.
Yes, we may say or sing the words without thinking from time to time—we are human. The same applies to any form of worship. The important thing is that because we repeat them, they are there. They are in our minds; they are in our hearts; they are imprinted on our neural pathways. I have calmed myself more than once by repeating the words I learned as a child. I am sure I am not the only one among us to have done so.
Rhythm and pattern need not mean stagnation. I’m not so cranky as to suggest that we need always adhere to exactly the same songs or precisely the same melody. There is value in variety—though there is oft-underappreciated value in maintaining the familiar as part of that variety. I do suggest we would do well to thoughtfully consider the ways in which our tradition of liturgical worship provides meaning that makes our Lutheran practice distinctive.
“Thank the Lord and sing his praise; tell ev’ryone what he has done! Let ev’ryone who seeks the Lord rejoice and proudly bear his name. He recalls his promises and leads his people forth in joy with shouts of thanksgiving. Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia!”** (At least until we have to put those Alleluias in a box on the 16th.)
* From Marty Haugen's "Now the Feast and Celebration" [originally written for Pacific Lutheran University--go Lutes!]
** From the Lutheran Book of Worship (1978)
Let’s play word association!
“The Lord be with you.”
Much like the last time I started with this phrase (don’t ask me when that was, but I know I used it), I’m sure most of you immediately responded “and also with you."
“Now the feast and celebration…”
If I were singing while I’m typing there’d be a 6-year-old in the next room chiming in “all of Creation sings for joy…”*
“This is the feast of victory for our Lord. Alleluia!”
Some of you are now singing “worthy is Christ, the Lamb who was slain, whose blood sets us free to be people of God…”** I could go on. And to be honest, just typing these words brings tears to my eyes. I miss them. A lot. And at 33 (for one more month, anyway!) I’m not exactly an old fogey.
These songs are the most visible components of our liturgy. They are just part of a larger framework, however, that is intended to guide and give meaning to our worship. Well practiced, the liturgy connects us to God, each other and to centuries of Christian tradition.
The Lutheran church service (and that of other liturgical traditions) is composed of two parts and mirrors the revelation Jesus’ disciples received on the road to Emmaus. The Liturgy of the Word originates with Jewish tradition and includes scripture readings, psalms and prayers. The Liturgy of the Meal is the sharing of Communion in remembrance of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Just as Jesus first explained the scriptures and then revealed Himself to the disciples along that road so long ago, Christ appears to us first in the Word and then in Communion.
This two-part liturgical structure can be further divided into four pieces: gathering, word, meal and sending. We come together as a community; we hear the word; we eat the meal—here begins part 2—and we go in peace to serve the Lord (thanks be to God!). This basic structure has been in place for centuries. We are part of a community of believers that extends through both space and time.
One commonly cited criticism of the liturgy is that repetition becomes rote and meaning is lost. I would not disagree with the statement that good liturgical practice is intentional, and avoids following tradition simply because that is “how we’ve always done it.”
I question the logic, however of criticizing habits of faith. After all, aren’t we all taught mnemonics and other memory aids in school? Aren’t we all called to make habits of exercise, or healthy eating, or getting enough sleep? How much more important is it to develop good habits of worship—to confess and to welcome, to ask mercy and to praise, to hear the Word, offer our prayers and our gifts, participate in the Lord’s holy meal, and be sent out into the world for another week’s service? When we hear these words and repeat them, they make their way into our hearts.
Yes, we may say or sing the words without thinking from time to time—we are human. The same applies to any form of worship. The important thing is that because we repeat them, they are there. They are in our minds; they are in our hearts; they are imprinted on our neural pathways. I have calmed myself more than once by repeating the words I learned as a child. I am sure I am not the only one among us to have done so.
Rhythm and pattern need not mean stagnation. I’m not so cranky as to suggest that we need always adhere to exactly the same songs or precisely the same melody. There is value in variety—though there is oft-underappreciated value in maintaining the familiar as part of that variety. I do suggest we would do well to thoughtfully consider the ways in which our tradition of liturgical worship provides meaning that makes our Lutheran practice distinctive.
“Thank the Lord and sing his praise; tell ev’ryone what he has done! Let ev’ryone who seeks the Lord rejoice and proudly bear his name. He recalls his promises and leads his people forth in joy with shouts of thanksgiving. Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia!”** (At least until we have to put those Alleluias in a box on the 16th.)
* From Marty Haugen's "Now the Feast and Celebration" [originally written for Pacific Lutheran University--go Lutes!]
** From the Lutheran Book of Worship (1978)
Love this - I too find comfort and reassurance in the message of our liturgy and truly hope that it remains an important part of the Lutheran tradition.
ReplyDeleteWhile there is nothing wrong with the more popular praise style of worship, I think there is value in our traditions. The simple cadence of the Lutheran liturgy is honest and pure, not overshadowed by a guitar solo. Voices are raised in unison, not singled out in front of a microphone.