I love liturgy. I love the church year. I love incense and crosses and lovely churches built from stone, quiet and cool in summer. I love prayers written by others, written for me and others to pray. I love to stand and kneel. To confess collectively. To respond collectively. The communion of the saints.
Some people feel like that's not real worship. That a pre-written prayer is no prayer at all, but I assure you it is. Liturgy arrived in my life just when I needed it, simultaneously broadening and deepening my prayers and my experience of God.
Every year at Easter I miss this most desperately. What's the celebration of Easter without the preparation? Without Holy Thursday and Good Friday? Without spending some real time remembering -- as a community -- that Jesus washed his disciples' feet, was betrayed by someone in his inner circle, and suffered beatings and indignities and a gruesome death? I feel that the joy of the resurrection is cheapened when all that preceded it is not collectively acknowledged.
When I was in college I found a church that was just the right place at just the right time. That spring I attended my first Holy Thursday service. Part of the service was something called the veneration of the cross. The priests carried in a large wooden cross and placed it on the floor. After communion we were invited to go up to the cross and sit beside it and pray or place our foreheads directly on the cross. I did the latter. I can't even tell you what happened that night. I can only say that it was an experience that profoundly affected me. I think I cried for hours afterwards.
There are times when the liturgical prayers or the Nicene creed just flood my mind and come alive. I love these words because they illuminate truths that I would not have thought of on my own, express thoughts and feelings I didn't know I had. Remind me of the real ways I'm falling short. Here is part of a prayer of confession for Holy Thursday.
Merciful God, we confess that so often our discipleship has been weak...
when we have failed to serve as Jesus served;
forgive us.
When we have failed to love one another as Jesus loves us;
forgive us.
When we have been happy to proclaim our devotion to Jesus with
our lips and then denied him by our actions;
forgive us.
Merciful God, empower us by your Spirit to be steady and true
to you in every time of trial; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
Peace be with you.
10 comments:
And with you, too! I agree with you Nina. I miss the liturgy most at Easter and Christmas. I miss the confession of sins. For some people, I'm sure, those prayers are very rote (please let that be the proper use of that word), but I find that they are very centering and real.
Now that I have been away from liturgy for decades, I have a certain fondness for it. But I have mostly been disappointed when I have taken part in the liturgy of congregations. Not that I seek them out, much, anymore - too many distractions to be pursued.
I find that liturgy is most significant when done in a small group and everyone wants to be there and is engaged in what is going on. Just like our non-liturgical services.
Nothing says that we can't do our own liturgical services. I would love to mark Maundy Thurday or even Good Friday with you sometime over a grave liturgy and a common cup of real wine.
"God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, Begotten, not made, Of one being with the Father, By whom all things were made, Who for us men and our salvation, came down from heaven..."
this was beautiful, Nina; thank you for writing it. It was just what I needed to read.
I am with you too. I love the idea of putting my forehead on the cross. I love the ornate churches and rituals. I often wonder why I don't go to a more formal church every now and then. I do not want a communal cup of wine, though. I don't like germs and don't tell me the alcohol in the wine kills them.
I'm so glad to see some liturgy lovers here. Who knew?
Michele -- Rote is the right word, and for me those prayers are centering too, and they also remind me that we're all in this together. It's sort of humbling.
Peaj, I'll take you up on your offer. Next year, I'd like to do our own service, and yes to the real wine. Grape juice is just not right.
Thanks Jess...I would think one of the great things (but also one of the difficult things) about traveling is the opportunity to experience different churches and different forms of worship -- if you can get motivated and drag yourself out of bed.
Merry -- That cracked me up. As a certified germaphobe I'm no fan of the communal cup of wine unless it's just my family or close friends. I can't tell you how many times Brian has tried to convince me that the alcoholic content of the wine kills the germs and not to worry about that dirty-looking fellow who is ahead of us in line. Ugh.
For the Liturgists out there, myself being baptized in the One, True, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, I say we grab our crucifixes and weekly readers and let's do mass. Well... maybe that's too severe. But I do love liturgy and iconic ritual. The familiarity of the creeds -- and the spiritual freedom that comes from memorizing them -- is comforting and familiar. The declaration of God's benevolence and omnipotence as a congregation in the form of prewritten verse is freeing because it is easy... it gives way to a deeper communion with him for me. Often I struggle to find the right words or the right pitch to a rockin praise song and end up thinking about lunch. The recital of prayer and led response helps me stay on track. Gothic imagery of suffering has always impacted me. I love that the Catholics believe in transubstantiation. The carnality of that makes it very real for me.... which is why I am still attracted to Goth. In my humble Irish Catholic opinion (which is the only right one to have) I wish we did have a little bit of ritual and creed. And maybe some somber imagery that isn't animated. But... please understand, I am not complaining about our church or our worship. I love it. It has transformed this wayward Alter bOi! I am unbound and free to commune with the Lord the way I want. And to that end, I say we liturgists-at-heart do something new. I am up for a Maundy Thursday or celebrating the Stations of the Cross or an Ash Wednesday.
Nina, this post moved me deeply. Not only what you said, because although I've known you for years, I didn't know any of this -- but your writing and how you captured and expressed the importance and meaning of the liturgy. Thank you for sharing it.
This is one of the many reasons why I love where I am fellowshipping. There is liturgy, finely woven in with modern day praise and worship and prayer. This experience of liturgy and hymns and creeds and responsive readings has deepened my faith in a way that I don't think could have happened otherwise. I am incredibly grateful for this. And I'm grateful that you put your thoughts into words here Nina, because it has helped give me a better understanding of why I get so much from the liturgy at church.
I so understand... on Sunday we went to a different church with family, and while in general it was not my favorite thing, the benediction at the end made me so happy, and I really felt blessed by it, that the Lord truly did "turn his countenance upon" me. I grew up in a Lutheran church, so it was very ceremonial, and it is something that still comforts and warms me.
Beck, when is there time to discuss these deeper things when we're always being interrupted by certain young people? :) I am glad you're enjoying your church and I agree that it is surprising the ways in which liturgy can deepen faith. And I love responsive readings!
Emily, that is a beautiful idea...the Lord turning his countenance upon you. Maybe what makes liturgy even more striking now is that the words are not the ones we use daily, so they bring new life to our thoughts about God.
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