Friday, December 9, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The liturgy of Jesus
Prompted by an excellent post at Liturgy, itself stimulated by other posts on the internet, I have been thinking a little about worship and where we are going in our services as Anglicans, given that we do indeed want to achieve a lot from our liturgies: advance in mission, teaching the faith, mini-parish meetings (as sometimes our "notices" become), incorporating families (perhaps especially aiming at children, at youth, at young adults, at parents), evolving ourselves into deeper alignment with Anglicanism or (sub-)consciously moving away from that form of Christian life, as well as, lest we clergy forget, collecting the offertories to maintain stipend payments, dispensing pieces of paper, themselves sent by church and para-church officials with ambitions about what they will achieve from our congregations, building fellowship, offering hospitality. Quite a list! Oh, and had better mention the aim of worshipping God.
Rather than slate or promote this or these aims beside worshipping God, I think it useful to reflect a little on what a liturgy of Jesus might look like, i.e. if he were both the vicar and the chair of the worship committee.
We could think, for instance, of the way in which Jesus was at ease among groups and crowds of people, readily imbibed food and offered hospitality, never lost an opportunity to teach, often looked up to the Father to praise and to pray, quoted Scriptures frequently, often the Psalms, was regular at the synagogue, and at temple festivities.
Which makes me think whether one question about liturgy is wrongly framed: rather than ask whether we expect too much of liturgy, could we be expecting too little of ourselves as a fellowship of believers?
That is, make liturgy the reason primarily why we gather together, then tack various things on to the liturgy, then we may grumble that we are losing sight of what liturgy is primarily about.
What if we met together Sunday by Sunday (indeed more frequently than that) because we think meeting together is important in its own right. Then in the course of our meeting together we could talk, discuss, eat, drink, plan, prepare for other activities, and, yes, intentionally worship God through liturgy.
Rather than slate or promote this or these aims beside worshipping God, I think it useful to reflect a little on what a liturgy of Jesus might look like, i.e. if he were both the vicar and the chair of the worship committee.
We could think, for instance, of the way in which Jesus was at ease among groups and crowds of people, readily imbibed food and offered hospitality, never lost an opportunity to teach, often looked up to the Father to praise and to pray, quoted Scriptures frequently, often the Psalms, was regular at the synagogue, and at temple festivities.
Which makes me think whether one question about liturgy is wrongly framed: rather than ask whether we expect too much of liturgy, could we be expecting too little of ourselves as a fellowship of believers?
That is, make liturgy the reason primarily why we gather together, then tack various things on to the liturgy, then we may grumble that we are losing sight of what liturgy is primarily about.
What if we met together Sunday by Sunday (indeed more frequently than that) because we think meeting together is important in its own right. Then in the course of our meeting together we could talk, discuss, eat, drink, plan, prepare for other activities, and, yes, intentionally worship God through liturgy.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Bosco Peters' extraordinarily helpful e-NZPB page
Bosco Peters' is offering anyone who goes to this link the possibility of downloading important parts of NZPB electronically. The digital NZPB is slowly coming into being. It is grace on Bosco's part to offer this to the church; but the grace rests, in this instance, on a lot of work.
Deo gratia!
Deo gratia!
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Who to vote for this coming election: a sermon
Just occasionally I will publish a sermon here which I have written and preached. On the two passages in this morning's readings, Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24; Matthew 25:31-46, I used the following as my text. Some aspects of it will only make sense to Kiwis who have followed the news re our forthcoming election and our post-quake struggles in Christchurch.
From Ezekiel, let me re read a few words: v. 16 “I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice.”
And from Matthew I want to re read a few words: v. 35 “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me ... Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers you did it to me.”
What is at the heart of God’s message to us? What is God’s will for the world?
Justice, could be one word to sum it up. Justice and mercy, would be three words to put it in a phrase.
The gospel, the good message is that justice is possible. It can happen in life, not just in our dreams.
First, God shows mercy to us in Jesus Christ and forgives all our debts to God.
Secondly, God creates us to be a new people of justice.
Christians carry with them the story of God from Ezekiel: our God is merciful and works for justice.
Our hearts beat with the simple challenge of Jesus: someone is hungry, we feed them, thirsty we give them a drink, strange we welcome them, naked clothe them, sick we visit and in prison we go to them. The least significant is Christ in our midst.
Or that’s the way things should be.
Justice is a hot subject. Work for justice in the church and people are liable to look sideways at you; wonder if you are one of those left-wing types, or, these days, a greenie. Yet no one says we have no business with justice, that we should have nothing to do with works of mercy.
Mike Coleman is one of our priests. He is trying to give voice to the folk in the red zone. Their quest is for justice and for mercy from our government.
Jolyon White is one of our deacons. This week he has been in the news. Quite a few people, as far as I can tell, are mad with him.
His particular protest has been referred to the police by the Electoral Commission. Whatever we feel about what has happened, Jolyon’s heart beats for justice, his protest asks whether a brighter future for New Zealand is a just future or not.
In less than a week we vote in our election. It feels like a strange election to me.
A cup of tea seems to have dominated it.
Winston Peters might prove that resurrection can happen in this life.
But these are distractions.
Our votes are choices we make as Christians.
With today’s passages in mind dare we cast them in the interest of ourselves?
Dare we cast them in order to make sure our lives are better?
Of course not.
We can only vote for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick and those in prison.
We can only vote for those who will work with the grain of God’s shepherd heart
A heart which seeks the lost, the strayed, the injured and the weak.
Which party,
who is the prime minister,
what are the policies which will make our country strong in order to support the weak,
which will make our country healthy so we can bind up the injured,
which will make our country a safe haven for the lost?
That is our question this week.
If we are not ‘stirred up’ on this ‘stir up Sunday’ we should be stirred up.
Stirred up knowing that when Christ comes again he comes as judge,
yet right now he is in our midst
as the one who is hungry (200000 children below the poverty line),
who is thirsty (we have issues about the quality of our water),
who is alien (we have refugees struggling to settle here),
who is naked (well we had a naked rugby star in the news this week but what a lost young man he seems to be),
who is sick (we will know many).
and who is in prison (still many there though we can be thankful the numbers are falling).
This Saturday let’s vote for Christ!
From Ezekiel, let me re read a few words: v. 16 “I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice.”
And from Matthew I want to re read a few words: v. 35 “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me ... Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers you did it to me.”
What is at the heart of God’s message to us? What is God’s will for the world?
Justice, could be one word to sum it up. Justice and mercy, would be three words to put it in a phrase.
The gospel, the good message is that justice is possible. It can happen in life, not just in our dreams.
First, God shows mercy to us in Jesus Christ and forgives all our debts to God.
Secondly, God creates us to be a new people of justice.
Christians carry with them the story of God from Ezekiel: our God is merciful and works for justice.
Our hearts beat with the simple challenge of Jesus: someone is hungry, we feed them, thirsty we give them a drink, strange we welcome them, naked clothe them, sick we visit and in prison we go to them. The least significant is Christ in our midst.
Or that’s the way things should be.
Justice is a hot subject. Work for justice in the church and people are liable to look sideways at you; wonder if you are one of those left-wing types, or, these days, a greenie. Yet no one says we have no business with justice, that we should have nothing to do with works of mercy.
Mike Coleman is one of our priests. He is trying to give voice to the folk in the red zone. Their quest is for justice and for mercy from our government.
Jolyon White is one of our deacons. This week he has been in the news. Quite a few people, as far as I can tell, are mad with him.
His particular protest has been referred to the police by the Electoral Commission. Whatever we feel about what has happened, Jolyon’s heart beats for justice, his protest asks whether a brighter future for New Zealand is a just future or not.
In less than a week we vote in our election. It feels like a strange election to me.
A cup of tea seems to have dominated it.
Winston Peters might prove that resurrection can happen in this life.
But these are distractions.
Our votes are choices we make as Christians.
With today’s passages in mind dare we cast them in the interest of ourselves?
Dare we cast them in order to make sure our lives are better?
Of course not.
We can only vote for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick and those in prison.
We can only vote for those who will work with the grain of God’s shepherd heart
A heart which seeks the lost, the strayed, the injured and the weak.
Which party,
who is the prime minister,
what are the policies which will make our country strong in order to support the weak,
which will make our country healthy so we can bind up the injured,
which will make our country a safe haven for the lost?
That is our question this week.
If we are not ‘stirred up’ on this ‘stir up Sunday’ we should be stirred up.
Stirred up knowing that when Christ comes again he comes as judge,
yet right now he is in our midst
as the one who is hungry (200000 children below the poverty line),
who is thirsty (we have issues about the quality of our water),
who is alien (we have refugees struggling to settle here),
who is naked (well we had a naked rugby star in the news this week but what a lost young man he seems to be),
who is sick (we will know many).
and who is in prison (still many there though we can be thankful the numbers are falling).
This Saturday let’s vote for Christ!
Saturday, November 12, 2011
The eucharist as a seamless robe of words and movements, i.e. ...
... do not, repeat NOT, put any instructions between the Great Thanksgiving//Breaking of Bread and Distribution of the Elements.
So many do this!?!?
Instructions for a meal take place before the meal not during it.
The profound fellowship with our Lord during Holy Communion is brought through the interplay of word and action, of Word and Sacrament. To intrude into the middle of the sequence instructions about wine or juice, chalice or small cups, standing to the left or moving to the right should be anathema!
Instruct (if required) before the Great Thanksgiving and let the great prayer and reenactment of the Lord's Supper be a seamless robe of words and movements.
No instructions in the middle.
So many do this!?!?
Instructions for a meal take place before the meal not during it.
The profound fellowship with our Lord during Holy Communion is brought through the interplay of word and action, of Word and Sacrament. To intrude into the middle of the sequence instructions about wine or juice, chalice or small cups, standing to the left or moving to the right should be anathema!
Instruct (if required) before the Great Thanksgiving and let the great prayer and reenactment of the Lord's Supper be a seamless robe of words and movements.
No instructions in the middle.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Never comment, never draw attention to yourself
If I could control the world of worship leading, here are two things I would control (after inventing a means of making worship leaders do what I programmed them to do):
(1) Never comment on stuff happening before or during leading (like, "I have lost my notes so I do not know where I am" or "It hasn't been a very good week, the choir had a bad practice on Thursday night so tonight will be a bit problematic.")
(2) Apart from introducing oneself by name, never draw attention to oneself while being the leader (like, "It's my first time leading tonight" or "I am feeling a bit nervous.")
Of course another way forward here is for me not to be in control and not to invent the means to programme leaders to do what I want them to do, rather, worship leaders take responsibility for not doing these two things!
Positively: "Just lead, and lead people to God."
(1) Never comment on stuff happening before or during leading (like, "I have lost my notes so I do not know where I am" or "It hasn't been a very good week, the choir had a bad practice on Thursday night so tonight will be a bit problematic.")
(2) Apart from introducing oneself by name, never draw attention to oneself while being the leader (like, "It's my first time leading tonight" or "I am feeling a bit nervous.")
Of course another way forward here is for me not to be in control and not to invent the means to programme leaders to do what I want them to do, rather, worship leaders take responsibility for not doing these two things!
Positively: "Just lead, and lead people to God."
Monday, October 17, 2011
Transitions are more important than you think
If I were Robbie Deans and (another big "if"), if it was timely to have a review with the Australian players this morning about how the game went last night - I can imagine they just want to get on the plane and go home - then I would talk about 'transitions' in the game. For instance, the transition at the beginning, from nothing happening to the first interaction between players and the ball: Quade Cooper kicked off in the first second and got it wrong because he kicked the ball out on the full, handing the initiative over to the All Blacks.
But we can say similar things about liturgy, in which 'transitions' are crucial to the flow of the service.
The obvious transitions in the eucharist are at the beginning, the Peace and at the end. The less obvious transitions are from sermon to intercessions, and from breaking of the bread to the post-communion.
Rather than me say how I think these transitions should go, I encourage constant review of how transitions in your services are going. In particular, I note that some transitions are handled the same way, week after week after week, so that the transitions become embedded traditions in the liturgical life of the parish. If the transitions are, in fact, not done well, then it can become quite difficult to improve them because , like any tradition, such transitions can be all but impossible to change.
Here are some review questions:
Do the transitions serve visitors and strangers in our midst well? Transitions can be moments for 'in house' stuff (chat, jokes, notices with first names of people to see after the service) which may be brilliant for the regulars and unnerving for visitors.
Do the transitions serve God and our worship of God well? Transitions can be (so to speak) secular moments in a sacred space. For example, a notice about how to receive communion may intrude into the moment prior to receiving communion as the culmination of the grand narrative of salvation recited in the Great Thanksgiving.
Do the transitions serve the dynamics of the service well? A long transition, for instance, can destroy the flow of the service, especially if the next movement in the service does not 'pick up' the service.
But we can say similar things about liturgy, in which 'transitions' are crucial to the flow of the service.
The obvious transitions in the eucharist are at the beginning, the Peace and at the end. The less obvious transitions are from sermon to intercessions, and from breaking of the bread to the post-communion.
Rather than me say how I think these transitions should go, I encourage constant review of how transitions in your services are going. In particular, I note that some transitions are handled the same way, week after week after week, so that the transitions become embedded traditions in the liturgical life of the parish. If the transitions are, in fact, not done well, then it can become quite difficult to improve them because , like any tradition, such transitions can be all but impossible to change.
Here are some review questions:
Do the transitions serve visitors and strangers in our midst well? Transitions can be moments for 'in house' stuff (chat, jokes, notices with first names of people to see after the service) which may be brilliant for the regulars and unnerving for visitors.
Do the transitions serve God and our worship of God well? Transitions can be (so to speak) secular moments in a sacred space. For example, a notice about how to receive communion may intrude into the moment prior to receiving communion as the culmination of the grand narrative of salvation recited in the Great Thanksgiving.
Do the transitions serve the dynamics of the service well? A long transition, for instance, can destroy the flow of the service, especially if the next movement in the service does not 'pick up' the service.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
