Engaging Worship

I am enjoying the read provided by Paul H. Sadler, Sr., in his new book, 52 Ways to Ignite Your Congregation . . . Worship.  At one point, early on in the book, Sadler comments, "Far too many pastors are afraid to take the risks necessary to enable their congregations to experience true worship.  Fear is the enemy of the church.  Where there is fear, the church cannot prosper and the people of God cannot grow.  In worship, fear translates into a concern for what others will think of how we worship and into settling for playing it safe with the familiar, rather than launching out into the deep, where real, rich,and profound worship of God can occur."

In some ways that feels like a heavy charge to level at pastors, accusing them of being timid and safe when it comes to worship.  I think of the nearly twenty-five years I spent regularly shaping the liturgy in the three churches where I served as pastor and teacher.  I loved the routine of the liturgy.  The order of service provided a measure of stability and security.  We knew what to expect whenever we gathered.  I also was prone to select the favorite hymns that had nurtured the congregation of my youth.  Most seemed to appreciate them, too.

I can still hear the heated liturgical arguments--whether passing the peace was a disruption to the flow and formality of the service.  Some did not like that.  I recall a response that I encouraged the choir to sing after the reading of the scripture lessons.  The choir balked.  They did not like that.  There was also the big issue of whether children should be allowed to partake of Communion since they had not yet been confirmed.  That was an emotionally-charged debate within the congregation.  And then, there is always the issue of time.  How long should a service be?  The normative answer always: just one hour--60 minutes max.  We have other things to do on Sunday than be in church.

It is easy to reduce the risks and travel the well-worn path week after week.  It is easier to sing the favorite hymns over and over, rather than expanding the repertoire.  I am still tempted toward sentimentality in the sanctuary, looking back rather than looking forward.  For sure, worship is about God.  True worship is focused in actively glorifying and praising God.  It is bending the knee, opening our souls, singing for joy to the One who gives us life.

O sing to God a new song!  It is a new day.  May we greet God with new songs of praise.  It is not about ritual but about the reality of God's presence.  It's about God!




  

The Case of Francesco Schettino

I have never sailed on a cruise ship, but I recall seeing one boarding in Tampa last July while we were there for General Synod 28.  That vessel was huge with a water park on the top deck.  It looked so secure and safe.  What a safe place to take a family vacation and escape, for a time, from the perils of life!  What could possibly go wrong?

Late Friday, we got the news that the Costa Concordia had run aground off the coast of Italy. There were some 4,200 passengers on board.  Miraculously most were able to escape, but some did not.  A carefree vacation on a huge--seemingly invincible ship--suddenly turned tragic.

I wonder what might have caused Captain Francesco Schettino to steer his great ship so close to those treacherous rocks, allowing them to rip a 160-foot hole in his ship and putting his passengers in great peril?  And, if what is alledged is really true, what motivated the captain to abandon ship before those in his charge were in lifeboats and secure?  This is a sad story of a failure of leadership on so many levels.  Certainly, more will be told as the story unfolds in the days and weeks to come.

This tragedy--this failure of leadership--stands in sharp contrast to the story of Captain Chelsey "Sully" Sullenberger who landed his crippled US Airways plane on the Hudson River on January 15, 2009.  The story is told of Sullenberger making his way down the plane's aisle and back to make ensure all his passengers were safely off the plane before he exited to wait with them on the plane's wing to be rescued.

This also makes me think about church leadership and the responsibility that rests with those of us who are called to give leadership and to care for Christ's church.  It is no coincidence, I think, that the church has often been depicted as a boat.  Those called to positions of leadership have a duty to care for the others who sail on the ship with them.  There is a need for pastors and teachers to set a course that is faithful to the Gospel. There is a need to understand one's congregants and to treat them with due respect and compassion.  Faithful leadership requires a willingness to sacrifice self for the sake of  our sisters and brothers, and for all others for whom Christ died.  Denominational leadership, too, is about putting one's life on the line--especially for the vulnerable and poor--who share the journey with us.   Pastoral leadership is a sacred responsibility that carries an implicit vow not to abandon one's charges in the face of trouble and even death.

I think tonight of Jesus, who was no stranger to storms and troubled seas. He still promises never to leave us desolate, orphaned and alone.  Rather, he promises to come, to seek us out, to share the trouble with us, and to raise us up to new life.  "Help of the helpless, O abide with me!" 

I am grateful to be on his boat. 
May his example inform and inspire my leadership.

"May You Alway Have Light"

Arise, shine; for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
--Isaiah 60:1 (NRSV)

On June 6, 1993, I was in California, Missouri for a candidating sermon.  At the early worship at Salem United Church of Christ, the sky grew increasingly dark. Ominous clouds tinted green, began to appear on the horizon.  As we drove the five miles through the countryside back to the town of California, huge droplets started to smash into the windshield.  When we arrived at the United Church of Christ of California for the service a few minutes later, the rain was like a waterfall.  We were soaked by the time we arrived inside.

Once inside, it was apparent that this was no ordinary summer Sunday.  People were literally sweeping water that had surged into the fellowship hall on the first floor.  There was a line of members each pushing the water forward to the next with soggy brooms.  The power had gone off throughout the community by this time.  I remember meeting Mary, an eighty-year old with a walker who was being helped up the stairs to the sanctuary.  The sanctuary was dimly lit with candles that had been collected throughout the building.  The pipe organ sat silent.  The PA system was gone.  The front doors were propped open, and the sounds of vehicles, sloshing through the waters,echoed through the sanctuary throughout the service.  It was a strange, holy time.

And there was a simple act of kindness toward the visiting minister.  Lou, a member of the Search Committee, provided me with a plastic flashlight so that I could see to read the scripture and my sermon notes.  Later, after I arrived to begin my ministry, she presented me with the same flashlight.  This time it had an engraved band around it that read, "May you always have light." 

I think about that flashlight in this Epiphany time--and especially, I ponder the blessing that Lou provided--a blessing for a lifetime.  "May you always have light."  It is the blessing of Epiphany this holy season of light--God's light for the world.  A star that shines brightly in the night sky.  Jesus, the Light of the world, who bestows that same title on his church.

In the midst of dark and confusing days in Christ's ministry, when we but dimly see, but still fervently hope:  May you always have light.

In moments of despair about the condition of our country and the misdirected priorities of those elected to govern, May you always have light.  (And may you always have the courage to stand up and speak out.)

In the face of desperate cries of the poor and broken ones and the silences of those who have lost their voice and their inability to speak up for themselves, "May you always have light."

May you always have light! 
I am grateful to Lou for the blessing in my journey. 
I am grateful to God who makes it so!