Fullness Part 3: The Peace

This is the third post in a series on worshiping more fully. I wish that I could give credit where credit is due, but I don't have notes so I'll have to be vague. What follows is a poor retelling and summary of what I can remember. My inability to give credit to the author/speaker is bothersome. If anyone can remember who it was, please comment.

Last year I heard a sermon on the liturgical practice of Passing the Peace. It changed the way I view this part of a worship service, and the way I think about what it means to gather together weekly in worship.

"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to set us free from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen." Galatians 1:3-5

In the sermon, the speaker argued for the tremendous importance of this time in the life of a worshiping community. As with other parts of a worship service, it is a kind of practice. A fundamental part of being a Christian is seeking peace. First, we seek to be reconciled and forgiven of our sins as we confess and receive absolution. Then, after asking and receiving forgiveness, we turn to our neighbors to give and receive forgiveness in accordance with Jesus command to love God and each other.

The speaker went on to critique the tendency to keep this practice brief, so as to only allow for pleasantries to be exchanged with those immediately surrounding you. Time must be given so that those that really need to forgive and be forgiven may have a chance to do so. This is practice. This is rehearsal. This is fundamentals. This is preparation.

We Christians practice, prepare, and rehearse this fundamental feature so that we, as Christians, might be prepared to live out this command in the world. Simply saying hello is not the kind of practice that I need. Simply shaking hands is not the kind of practice that leads to the ability to forgiveness in the rest of life. Seeking out the individual who you have hurt, who has wronged you, and exchanging words of peace and reconciliation within the confines of the congregation can assist in being able to forgive the things in life that really hurt.

The "turn the other cheek" passage, although perfectly applicable, seemed a little cliche and I think it would fall on deaf ears in what I'm about to say. I chose the Galatians passage because I've been in a course on it all semester, and I see Paul's actions in writing a letter to be in line with his teaching in Gal. 6:1.

In closing, the death of Osama Bin Laden has kept me up tonight. I jumped into conversations on twitter and facebook and got a little "riled up." If you'd like to view those, you can follow me on twitter (@russbo) or friend me on facebook.

What I have to say about the death and the reaction of Christians is this: perhaps if churches did a better job of teaching, congregations did a better job of learning, and individuals did a better job of practicing the Passing of the Peace, then we would not be debating whether it is Christian or not to rejoice in Osama's death. It wouldn't be necessary because it would have been easy to forgive because churches had been practicing forgiveness in such a way that it just happens because "that's what we do." We could learn a lot from those who have recently embodied this grace and forgiveness: the Amish community of Nickel Mines. My coaches used to tell me that I would play how I practiced. I need to practice better. Forgiveness is more difficult than revenge.

Fullness Part 2: Well Rested

It's spring and baseball is in full-swing (punny, I know). Major League Baseball has been cranked up for about a month now. Teams and fans are beginning to get into a rhythm and set their lineups. One position always seems to change though- starting pitchers. Well, perhaps "change" isn't accurate, rotation is more correct terminology. MLB teams typically operate with 5 starting pitchers. This gives each pitcher at least four days of rest between each start. The hope is that with enough rest, their arms will be able to perform at a high level as often as possible for a long season- 162 games (divided by 5 = about 32 games). This, and a book by Dorothy Bass got me to thinking about the concept of rest.

"For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy." Exodus 20:11

In her book Receiving the Day, Dorothy Bass argues for much more than Sabbath. She is concerned with Christian time keeping...or what she expresses is a concern for Christians being kept by time: the next appointment, the panic until the deadline, the filled calendars, etc. But what I found most convicting was the section on Sabbath and rest. I used to be good at taking days off. In fact, I used to say (and still feel this way) that my favorite thing to do is nothing. However, I was usually only able to do this for long periods of time once a month or so.

But Sabbath is more than "doing nothing." It is intentionally breaking to remember who you are - a being made in the image of your Creator, who we believe made all that exists and then took a day of rest, knowing all things to be good. I was convicted by Bass' language of fear as the motivator for our busyness: we're afraid that things will fall apart without us, or that we will fail if we don't spend more time, or that the... The list goes on, and it reveals our flaw of thinking we are self-sufficient, independent beings. God created us to live in this creation. This creation rests, most notably at night and in the season of winter. But as I sit here at 9:55pm, the sun's been down for over 2 hours, I know that I'm about to go back to work on a final paper for the semester, and I realize I still have a lot to learn about the concept of rest and the practice of Sabbath.

The class I read the book for closed every session with evening prayer at 5pm. While I never did live it out, I still love the way one sentence of the prayer puts to words what I'm trying to say: "[God] made the day for the works of light and the night for the refreshment of our minds and our bodies." United Methodist Hymnal, page 878

Related to this failure to rest is my tendency to doze off in chapel or church during prayers or even sermons (I know, it's hard to believe that it happens to seminarians as well!) I also zone out. Bass again points to lack of rest and absence of Sabbath as things that make us easily distracted...or in my case, prone to catch up on them during worship (oops!). So what I suggest (and mostly for myself) is a practice of rest and Sabbath-taking in order to make your (again, my) worship experiences "fuller" and more attentive.

Fullness Part 1

It's a familiar scene: the Sunday service is going on. The congregation has gathered and participating in the act of worship. But then, a whimper. Followed by a cry. Heads turn. The child is gathered up after a few futile attempts to hush, and the nearest exist is found. The noise fades slowly as the door closes, and worship resumes.

"I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears." Psalm 6:6

One thing I owe to my studies in divinity school is the extra attention given to implicit messages. That which is communicated through the way we do (or don't do) in worship and other church activities. Much of this I owe to reading Elliot Eisner's chapter on "The Three Curricula all Schools Teach" in his work The Educational Imagination. Without getting into too much detail, Eisner argues that we are teaching in everything we do, the way we do them, and the things that we don't do. Eisner's argument makes me wonder about what we teach when we remove crying children from worship and what that implies.

Now, I'm not a parent, so I've never had to deal with the situation I describe above. But I fear that what we are teaching (implied) is that crying has no part in worship. Or, to use a more divinity school phrase: we no longer see lament as a part of worship. Again, I'm sure that most children crying in church are not lamenting...but I think it still sends the message that we are not to give voice to those emotions in worship and conversation with God.

I fear in many congregations we no longer feel comfortable approaching God in worship with honesty about our problems. I don't have a solution to the problem I describe: I'll admit to being extremely distracted by crying babies. But, I wonder if we might discover a fuller kind of worship if we are willing to embrace the fullness of our being in worship: joy, sadness, praise, lament, elation, sorrow... The Psalms reflect a wide variety of emotion as they speak to God. We might do well to allow ourselves and others to be less than content at times.

What are your thoughts on this?