Book notes, A Sense of the Sacred, pt. 2 of 4

A few interesting notations re: liturgy.

In many churches (and in the older tradition) the baptismal font is either in a separate space, or somewhere near the entrance to the worship area... symbolic of baptism being an entrance into the community. At a baptism, the congregation would start the worship by gathering around the font, then move deeper into the space as worship progressed. It was moved to the front by many protestant congregations, esp. in America, so that people could more easily remain in their seats and watch.

Seasoltz adds this neat tidbit: "Certain aspects of the baptismal ritual symbolically enacted the Adam and Eve typeology. The ritual often included a renunciation of Satan while facing the West, after which the initiates faced the East, the direction of Eden, to proclaim their faith" (p. 116).

This bold gesture is liturgical "orientation" - literally, to "find east." The sun rises in the east/orient, so that looking east is also a reminder of our salvation, and our final destiny with God. The above movements mean that the baptismal party renounces the devil and evil as they face west: the back of the church, or the old life from which they are coming. Then, they they turn toward the east; they are orient-ed toward the front, the traditional space of the altar and the promise of resurrection, in order to proclaim their faith in God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.   

(In our congregation, the altar in the sanctuary is nearest the south wall but, when you step into worship spaces, the direction the congregation tends to face when looking at the altar becomes the "liturgical east.")

Speaking of altars, I didn't realize it was this early, but the altar was moved to the further end of the east apse and hidden from the congregation by means of a rood ("cross") screen as early as the 700's, beginning in France and Spain. During communion, the priests would disappear to the altar to quietly pray over the elements before coming back out for the distribution. The words of institution, blessing and raising of the elements "became veiled in special mystery... [The priest] alone was deemed worthy to enter into the mystery, while the rest of the people were left to pray silently at a distance from the sanctuary" (p. 122).  

Hmmm... can you imagine if someone got the giggles in that atmosphere?

About this time "was the introduction of the communion rail...[and] the gradual change from the use of leavened to unleavened bread and the decline in communion under both kinds [i.e. they might distribute the bread only]. The increased sense of unworthiness among the faithful, together with a growing sense of reverence for the Blessed Sacrament, brought about the use of small, thin, round wafers, which could be distributed without crumbs. They could easily be placed directly on the tongue, rather than in the hand of the communicant. Later, ...the faithful began to receive communion while kneeling rather than standing" (p. 123).

It does show, however, "the way we've always done it" was--at one time--an innovation, and "new" practices are frequently a return to even older traditions!

Sabbatical, Day 61

Isn't this a neat quote?

"The Savior comes in various forms to each person according to need. To those who lack joy, he becomes a vine; to those who wish to enter in, he is a door; for those who must offer prayers, he is a mediating high priest. To those in sin, he becomes a sheep, to be sacrificed on their behalf. He comes to be 'all things to all people' remaining in his own nature what he is. For so remaining, and possession the true and unchanging dignity of Sonship, of physicians and caring teachers, he adapts himself to our infirmities."

-300's AD, Cyril of Jerome, Catechetical Lec., 10.5.

In yesterday's morning worship, our worship leader asked to picture Christ as she read a number of his Biblical titles. Later, in painting class, we covered the canvas with dark paint. Then we lifted up parts of the paint with rags in such a way that the canvas would show through. The more you lifted, the brighter the "reflection." The goal was to create faces that appear to be coming in from the dark. In my mind I had the face of a kindly old shepherd, and was a little surprised to uncover a bit of my paternal grandfather, at least in the eyes.

(Once I get home, I hope to have a chance to scan some of the things I'm doing, and will post them... maybe. Not being an artist, I hesitate to put it out there...)

Book notes, A Sense of the Sacred, pt. 1 of 4

I've made mention of it in the previous blogs, but I'm just over two-thirds through R. Kevin Seasoltz's A Sense of the Sacred; Theological Foundations of Christian Architecture and Art. It's a challenge, especially for someone like me who has never really studied art or architecture, and a poor head for retaining history on top of it. Regardless, I have simply slowed down, reading one-two chapters and day, and am learning quite a bit about the shifts from Romanesque to Gothic to Renaissance, Baroque, etc. Even more helpful have been the connections Seasoltz makes between these general artistic and architectural styles to the shifts in theology, which affected the liturgy, the emphasis on clergy or the community, and the participation (or lack of it) of the congregation.

Some things worth noting...

From the start and in most periods, when illustrating or making Biblical images, artists did not try to imagine and dress the people and environs "as they must have been." There has rarely been a concern re: "historical accuracy." They usually drew from their own environment and life. An important exception would be the periods of renaissance when artists would return to study and imitate the classical Greek and Roman styles. In the earliest Greco-Roman Art, "Daniel was represented as a heroic nude; the prophets were shown in philosophical garb; and the altars in the scenes of Abraham sacrificing Isaac were typical Roman altars" (p.91).

What can we draw from this? Perhaps, we would have an easier time seeing ourselves, involving ourselves in scripture if we made the effort (as many artist are) to cast these stories and imagining them in our time, modern dress and environment. Of course, much religious abstract or representative art has this in mind, but--unless trained in or sensitive to abstract art--many people are left out, and they return to the more romanticized realism of the late 19, early 20 C. 

Some people have an initial negative reaction to a clearly oriental Jesus coming from eastern art, or the African images of Mary coming from S. Africa or African American culture. We tend to so closely associate "truth" with "historical accuracy" that we dismiss the more important truths which come out of metaphor, symbols, stories. (In truth, none of the images we hold or cherish are historically accurate!) Re-imaging isn't so much about trying to re-make or pretend that Jesus, or Mary, or others actually looked like us, as it is learning and trying to see them embodied, or applied to our life and situation. Or, we may be trying to cast ourselves and world into the Bible story. How is this story or image still true for us?

Seasoltz mentions some of the early fauna used in funereal and churches to represent resurrection, "including the dolphin, the phoenix, and the peacock ...[which] do not appear in any specific bible texts." Instead, these came from popular myths and stories applied to the Christian perspective, i.e. stories of dolphins carrying drowning victims to safety (p.112). In the Northwest, how might the salmon and its life-cycle or native stories about the salmon do the same? How does the rhododendron compare with traditional Christian images and use of flora? What if Mt. Rainier and locals were used for the scene of Jesus and the disciples returning from the Transfiguration?

Sabbatical, Day 59 cont.

Earlier today, I made use of the triple swirled prayer labyrinth here at the Grunewald Guild.

I've sometimes seen this journey toward deeper spirituality as a pilgrimage that would help me "arrive" at some new state or consciousness. Certainly, there is movement, but like the labyrinth, it seems to be a movement that carries us deeper or shallower. The hope is that the deeper moments somehow change us as we move outward from the center.

These prayer labyrinths look a little like mazes, with an important difference. Modern mazes tend to be puzzles where you try to draw a line from a "start" position to an "end" position, without running into dead ends. They are a bit goal-oriented and self-focused. I think that if we try to approach our prayer life and spirituality this way, we will likely (if honest) become very frustrated.

If life is like a labyrinth (& it is), it suddenly occurred to me as I stepped out of the labyrinth, that it is a journey that doesn't necessarily have a clear beginning or ending, at least in this: it is not that I invite God into my journey and life, but that he has allowed me to step into his.

These are some thoughts that coincide with Kevin Seasoltz's comments about sacred places: There is a tension, a "dialogue between landedness and landlessness, between a people settled in a place and a people in exile... The God of the promised land is also the God of the wilderness" (A Sense of the Sacred, p. 70).

Jesus assured the Samaritan woman that a day would come (is here) when God would be worshiped, neither on Mt. Gerizim nor in Jerusalem, but in spirit and truth. He said he would be where two or more gather in his name. His central message was, of course, the establishment, or the fullness, of God's Kingdom. This Kingdom would not be identified with places but an Encounter that results (finally) in reconciliation and peace with God, and love among God's people (ibid. p. 71). This Encounter happens in place and time, but always points beyond that place and time, and then moves on.

Spirituality is a journey, to be sure, but it is God's ongoing journey that his grace invites and welcomes us to intersect and even to influence. That is our salvation, which has already been moving in and with us, now and indefinitely. If there is a goal--it may be to arrive at a peace with God and his creation--so that we are no longer consumed with trying to control or convince him through our prayers to do things our way, or to follow us. Instead, a spiritual goal might be to trust him enough (or more and more) to see him in the encounters, places and times: to feel him cry with us, to hear his little jokes and wondrous laughter. Can you sense his loving frustration and anger with us, and with the self-righteous piety, arrogance, the fearful self-indulgence, and the hatred that divides people and rends creation...all for whom and for which he has asked us to care?

The second greatest commandment is like the first (that is, it supports and reflects the truth of the first) to "love your neighbor as yourself." How we care for creation and our neighbors is the primary way we obey the greatest commandment; it is the primary way of worshiping God. Like the labyrinth I walked today, our liturgical worship is meant to be an artistic and ritualistic expression of these two greatest commandments.

So, again, even without a marked "goal" or spiritual "achievement" liturgy, worship and life are--at their best--movements in and deeper, and then back out as renewed, ...no, as changed people.

In art class, I painted a coffee cup today--practicing the grey-scale.

Sabbatical, Day 59

Yesterday, I got to the Grunewald Guild just in time for dinner and an orientation for the coming week. I was surprised by the relaxed set up, people and buildings. We were introduced to our teachers, weekly and daily schedule, and warned about the wildlife. There seems to be about 30 students, some from near by, others--like me--from Seattle-Tacoma, a few from around the states, and even three from England. 

Five of us are taking the beginners' "Fearless Oil Painting," and others are divided between "Woven Peace" (weaving), fabric painting, "Soul of the Book" (illustrating sacred art with collage), and calligraphy...all with the intent of exploring faith-art connections and expression.

These and many other classes in the arts extend through each week of summer and are open to anyone with an interest. There are morning and evening worship, and meals are served family style around the tables.

In spite of the friendliness, beauty, and spacious room--I am a bit anxious. Perhaps by this evening I will be more "fearless," but this is as can be expected, I'm trying something new, and art can be a bit intimidating, especially when you don't know the language or the tools. And i am using this week as a kind of sacred space, a pilgrimage... Fits with what I just read last night: Victor Turner's three phases in "religious transition." 1) person/s are separated from roles in normal society, 2) to enter a "marginal, liminal, or transitional" place or stage, 3) in order to be re-incorporated into the same/normal society, but with new roles.

I hope that this week provides to me time, focus, and means to gather some of the notions and stirrings that are just starting to congeal. As I drove over Steven's Pass yesterday, I sensed a new surge of assurance that God's Spirit is speaking, leading... I pray for listening ears and obedience.

This really isn't just about painting, or an art study for me. It's not just about becoming more aware of the use and role of art in faith and worship. It is about listening to God, seeing and hearing where he is... and where he wants me... and my church to go.

The art and architecture around us is meant to express, teach, inspire, accommodate, and direct that movement. Why create a new kitchen alongside a wide and high gathering, dining, cafe area? In order to feed people: with food and the presence, bigness, and beauty of God's Spirit--Visible Words!

Holy God, welcome me into this new place, wash me with renewing experiences. Let me be welcoming, a cleansing person, caring for the well-being, dignity, and health of others.

Holy God, feed me with new learning and people. Free me to take part, to be open. Free new leadership from me. Let me be a feeding, teaching person who frees others with your grace!

Trevan's first steps

Oh... and I shouldn't forget to mention that Trevan (turned 1 the end of last month) took his first steps on his own yesterday. And now that he discovered all the attention he gets, he's been having fun taking a few steps and clapping for himself as he listens to our praise. Sweet boy!

Sabbatical, Day 57

This morning we attended worship at a nearby Lutheran congregation. I supply-preached there a little more than ten years ago and remembered it as a warm welcoming congregation... much like their pastors at the time. They have since called another senior, and recently an new assistant pastor.

The entrance was clear. There was an entrance to the nursery just off of the narthex, but the functional entrance and check-in was around the bend from their fellowship hall; we just followed the young family in front of us. The nursery attendant seemed very sweet; I think she held Trevan the entire time he was there.

The sanctuary is attractive...not overly crowded, 'tho I would have used fewer banners. They made good use of natural light which also emphasized the simple wooden cross in front. The altar was up a couple steps behind the altar rail, a simple table with clean lines. The font was at the foot of the altar and held a shell with water. A few people used it to remember their baptism as they came up for communion.

This was their "contemporary" service. The liturgical parts (confession and absolution, prayers, etc.) were drawn from several settings from the new and older hymnals, but arranged in a different order. The song choices included everything from "Just a Closer Walk with Thee," to "Here I Am, Lord," and "Lord, Reign in Me." (We also sang "Face to Face" one of my favorites written by Steven & Jill Olson.)

If there was any energy, most of it came from a group of teens who had just returned from a trip. Everyone else, leaders and congregation, all seemed a bit tired, but polite, and not entirely cold. The 25-minute message almost had a couple strong images and points. Mac lead our little family up for communion and held out his hand for the bread; they didn't know what to do at first, but--after learning from Pauline that "Yes, he communes," they did give him the bread and wine. A couple people said a few welcoming things during the greeting and after the service, but no one asked whether we were visiting, or who we were...

hmmm...

Later, Mac and I took his tricycle down by the waterfront. As we went, I tried to keep him on the path, "Look at that, Daddy! See that bird? Look at that funny puppy! Look at that boat go; Wow!"

We pulled over for a long break to throw pebbles in the water. Mac got into it and Katy was relieved that none of them landed on her. As Mac preached and presided, this was my true worship and communion for the day.

Tomorrow, I head to the Grunewald Guild (http://www.artfaith.com/) near Leavenworth for a week. I will be taking a beginners class in oil painting. I am looking forward to the retreat time. I'm a little nervous--to be honest--about learning to paint. I've enjoyed sketching, but haven't really done any painting since acryllics and silk-screening in high school. I better like it, besides the class, the supplies already cost me quite a bit.

Sabbatical, Day 53

Pauline had meetings all day today, so I had a good excuse to take the boys to VBS today, and loved seeing all that's happening there. So good to see all the kids. Christ's Spirit is the lifebreath of the Church, but much of it is flowing through them. It was "wacky-Wednesday" so Mac went in his wetsuit. Luckily, he had a shirt and shorts to change into during the games--he got pretty hot. Trevan went in a cow costume.

Sabbatical, Day 51

Over half-way!

Saturday, among other things, we ran up to Auburn. We snuck a peak at construction. Wow! Can really see the new shape now! Looks like there's a lot to do before August's ribbon cutting...
Then, we went for a walk on the Inter-urban Trail, with Mac making quite a journey on his tricycle. I irritated him by stopping frequently to take pics of bees and flowers with my new close-up lens. Not bad for a little Canon "PowerShot A85!" Here's a couple:



Yesterday we worshiped and had a good experience at Christ Lutheran, Lakewood WA. Before the service started, we really liked the large narthex/gathering space; easy to find everything like the nursery and library. People were gathered around tables, or standing in groups, but a few went out of there way to welcome us and introduce themselves. The coffee was slightly blocked by one group. Looks like they sometimes have trouble breaking up conversations in order to get worship started; when it was about time, a woman came out and walked through the crowd ringing a handbell. It did take people awhile to settle down even after worship started; I think they would have responded to a brief period of silent prayer before launching the confession and forgiveness.

They advertized it as their one "blended" summer service; they normally have traditional and contemporary during the program year. The liturgical order was fairly trad., but the music--except for the opening gospel tune, "Blessed Assurance"--was mostly '80's-'90's cont.-style. Some periods of "silence" were kept, esp. before prayers--though it always included a softly playing piano, which also played during the prayers. I usually like that, but would prefer some actual silence before the music comes in.

The Spirit was certainly present in the worship and message. The pastor is doing a series on Romans. They had just finished a week of VBS, so the Children's Message was some of the kids singing songs that they had learned, one of which was all about "choosing"... Choose Jesus, Choose to believe, Choose to obey/follow...etc. That was the VBS theme, apparently... ah well.

Mac loved the large nursery and attendants. He made sure to say goodbye to them and promised to return to play with them. When I signed Trevan in, they made sure to collect my info, including whether there was another adult who was allowed to pick him up. They collected my cell number and asked me to keep it on vibrate--and used it once when Trevan had a fit (apparently set off when a little girl started crying).

The library (with a volunteer attendant) is probably the best I've seen in a church of that size. The worship space is very attractive, in the round. The baptismal font is located at the entry, but was dry--Mac was disappointed as he wanted to dip his finger and wet his head. Worship is lead from the hexagonal Table which is central in the worship space.


Today, Pauline took Mac to MLC for his first week of VBS. Trevan and I are having fun playing instruments; (he's napping at the moment).

Pictures added...

Now that I'm back in the states with my own computer, I've downloaded and added pictures to many of the previous blog entries... Mostly to those titled "Sabbatical, Day__." If you want to see them, the easiest way is to go to the end of a blog entry--such as this one--and click the label "pictures." That way, all the postings that I labeled as having pictures will come up (most recent posts first).

Sabbatical Reflections - Nat'l Cathedral & General

Late entry:

On Sunday, July 13, we considered going to worship at the National Cathedral, but instead, we returned to Luther Place Memorial Church, Washington D.C. Here's a couple pics:

Why? Because we wanted adequate facilities (i.e. a nursery) for our children, so that they could be with us up to the children's message, and then join us again for Communion. The Nat'l Cathedral isn't geared for this! hmmm...

I'm glad, actually. It was good to return and see what was consistent from our first visit, and also to hear the intern pastor (the "vicar") preach. Very good! One consistency, and something worth noting: both times, each preacher used characters featured in their stained-glass windows. When we first visited, it was Dietrich Bonhoeffer; last Sunday, it was the young joyful looking sower of the seeds. It's a reminder to preachers: use the art and elements that the people see around them every week to help shape their spirituality. It's also a reminder to leaders and churches, surround yourself with classical, biblical, and contemporary images so that the Bible, the message and the people can see and make use of these connections.

After lunching, we visited the National Cathedral (click) as tourists. Denominationally, it is an Episcopalian church. What I really liked was the fact that--as suggested above--the stained glass, the art, the memorials, statues, and even the gargoyles placed classical, Biblical, and contemporary images, figures and art alongside each other. It featured some of our national history, images of creation. (One of the stained glass windows features an actual small moon rock from the Sea of Tranquility - click to see.) There were beautiful long banners of contemporary art in simple colors flowing down the main support columns in the nave.

I enjoyed touring with Mac (3.5 years old) and asking him what these and other art looked like to him, i.e. "An airplane blasting off." When we went way up to the east altar(s), he knelt at each and then turned and stood like a tour guide, as he explained to everyone around him how the bread and the wine are given out here, and how you should walk and hold your hands and receive, and how that guy up there is Jesus and over there is an angel, and what she is doing, etc.
On the downside, I noticed accessibility wasn't great for people in wheelchairs or parents with strollers. The ramp access wasn't clearly marked, around the side and a relatively unattractive entry compared to the entrances welcoming the "normal" folk. The ample gift shop was down some steep stairs. Moreover, many of the separating markers for sacred spaces, or special seats were all there and modeled after the preceding cathedrals of Europe. Still, it was a very impressive and enjoyable visit!

Some things that I'm becoming more convinced of --

Respect for our worship spaces is a good thing. Inaccessibility is not; it needs to be eliminated. Granted: many of the spaces we've been visiting are--not only churches--but also historical and tourist sites; they need the protection of ropes and signs that say, "off-limits" because of those who don't care, or don't know how, to be respectful of sacred spaces. On the other hand, so many of the European cathedrals separate their "real" altar from the people by a chancel rail and pulpit platform, followed by a gate behind which are the choir stalls, followed by another gate/rail, followed by the seats reserved for the royalty. This is a long way from the design of the original church basilica, which were modeled after secular shopping halls and public buildings, ideally built for progression.

Yes, there was an intended movement in the original cathedrals toward greater mystery (respect, awe). Speaking generally, before 1000 AD, but after Constantine made it the national faith, worship began near the entry, around a large baptismal font. Before worship started, this was an appropriate place for conversation, greetings, welcoming one another, catching up.

The worship might begin with a general welcome by the presider, and an indication of what was to follow.
Around the font, an actual Baptism, or a reminder of the meaning of these waters began the worship and progression, with music or songs to help lead them throughout the progression.
Usually, instrumentation included lute strings (what we might call guitars) and/or flutes--a sort of "praise-band"--with singers. (It would be a long time before adequate organs or pianos would be built!)

The assembly would then literally move from around the font, or at least turn, deeper into the hall where the Bible was read and the preacher would respond with a message--usually from a small scripture table (not a podium/pulpit. In many ways it was meant to reflect the table of Holy Communion, i.e. the Word-feast of scripture and sermon, followed by the Word-feast of the sacrament).

The Creeds, though well-known, and used and recited in catechesis, were not commonly a part of worship until well after 1000 AD. Rather, this was the time when people would offer the exchange (kiss) of peace--in reference to Christ's guidance that before bringing their gifts to the altar, they should make sure there was no enmity between them. As they exchanged this peace, they were moving further toward the Communion Table, bringing and presenting their gifts of food and money for those in need, as well as the bread and wine which was all placed on or near the Table. They would gather in a semi- or full-circle around the Table. (It was--in the earliest stages--purposefully modeled after a "table" and not a sacrificial "altar," even though the connection of Christ's sacrifice which fulfilled all altar sacrifices was made... So, the quick progression toward a more substantial "altar" is understandable.)

Over all these gifts and elements, the presider would pray--on behalf of, and possibly including/leaving room for, the people's prayers. After recalling Jesus' own words, commands and promises over the meal, the bread and wine was distributed to all initiated Christians.

After this, they quickly disbursed. Some worshipers (the original acolytes) were charged by the presider with bearing the food, gifts, and/or the remaining communion elements to those needy, sick or unable to attend that Sunday morning's worship.

This progressive movement dissolved in the Western churches. The separation of the masses from the Communion altar and eastern end was modeled after the special favors and division of the royalty from the masses, and modeled after the kind of dignity they felt would honor the King of kings. More and more, church interiors began to resemble castles and homes in which your access to the private royal rooms depended on your social standing.

AND (as Dr. Sam Torvend mentioned a few months ago in our adult forum) there was the addition of PEWS! which successfully "nailed people to their seats," whether standing or sitting at appropriate times. If you were unlucky enough to be a "normal" person, you could hardly hear, or see, or be a part of what was actually happening around the altar during what was supposed to be--at the same time--BOTH mysterious AND intimate. (Praying the rosary, and a number of other traditions, began as grass-roots ways of worshipfully biding-time during the Communion!)


The point of all this is--we should respect our sacred spaces--but, in my opinion, inaccessibility to the building, the font, the scripture table and pulpit, and the Communion Table should be eliminated wherever we can (with proper education, patience, time, understanding, etc.). Many churches are reconfiguring their seats around all these elements to do this.

A good example we saw was St. Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh, Scotland. They reconfigured themselves in the 1800's! The font was at the entrance, with enough space for the congregation to stand around during a baptism. Both pews and chairs were placed in a horseshoe pattern around the lectern, and massive pulpit and the large covered Table, which was under the main dome and just about dead-center in the sanctuary.


Liturgically, there should be good use of appropriate time and permission for people to talk and greet, and then--using gestures, silence, and helpful words--we progress through these four simple parts of the liturgy: Welcome (an explicit time to gather, converse; it's not normal to walk into anyone's house--not even God's--without a time of welcome!), Wash (confession and baptismal promises of absolution, or an actual baptism), Feast (the Word-feast of Scripture, Sermon, Offering, Prayers and Communion), and Freedom (the sending of God's renewed disciples into the mission field of the world).

Sabbatical, Day 46

Reiner and Geiger in SiMPLE CHURCH suggest that you can begin to arrive at your church's purpose by finishing this statement with 3-4 action or descriptive words: "Disciples at Our Church are..."


Or, use them to describe your purpose (what we do): "The purpose of Our Church is to..."

Or as a vision (how we do it): "Our Church, where people are..."

Instead of having multiple statements of purpose, vision, discipleship, etc., the same 3-4 descriptors are used, and these same 3-4 descriptors are used to define and direct all of the ministry of the congregation.


I was reflecting back on this, but also the several other books I've read, Re-Pitching the Tent, Liturgy and the Arts, and now A Sense of the Sacred, and in these books, they often spoke of how the central elements and sacraments of worship should have a primary role--not only in shaping the building, spaces and art of each church--but in motivating and forming the church's social outreach, evangelism, and discipleship.


If so, the central sacraments are, of course, Baptism and Communion. These welcome us into the worshiping body, they wash us, feed us, and finally they proclaim our freedom from sin. They provide the ability, motivation and model for our response in the world.


This might be the simple outline of every liturgical service: At Our Church, we are 1. Welcomed (into the presence of the Triune God), 2. Washed (by a reminder of the promises of Baptism, i.e. a confession and proclamation of forgiveness), 3. Fed (by the Word in scripture, sermon and communion), and 4. Freed (by all of these for generosity and service in the world).

I don't intend this as the answer, but part of the discussion that some of us are having about our vision or purpose.
It is my hope that disciples at our church are welcomed (& welcoming), washed (& washing), fed (& feeding), freed (& freeing).


Below is a sketch I made as I thought about this.



We should provide a place of welcome, of hospitality. People are welcomed not only to worship and in our liturgy, but to our facility, our activities and programs (like ALPHA, Family Events, VBS, Music Camp, concerts, musicals, neighborhood dinners?). Like so many roots, people come from many different paths into the main stem.

We could provide a place to wash. Literally, we provide a place for people to take a shower, to clean themselves (& their clothes?). Through our mission work around the world, we provide soap and other means for people to feel clean, dignified, housed, clothed and warm. In our worshiping community, Christ's Baptism and every time we receive forgiveness, we are reminded that we have been washed clean of sin, life's sludge. In truth, every Sunday, we hear how God has drowned the old and raised us new. We carry that promise of grace, humility, and forgiveness into our community and world. This is the water of grace that flows from the Source, our Baptism, and through our lives.

We are a place where people are fed. MLC has many social events around food. Community groups have access to our kitchen and dining facilities. We provide a weekly lunch to local high schoolers, and a place for them to bring their lunches. We provide free groceries through our food bank, as well as a place to sit for a cup of coffee (soup/sandwich?). Cookies are sent to prisons, and care packages to college students. Meals are often provided to members and friends in crises. Spiritually, people are fed by the Word of Scripture, the Sermon, and Communion. Our small groups feed deeply on the Word of scripture and mutual prayer. Christ's Table is extended through our generous giving in our offering, gifts to Emergency Needs in our Community, Lutheran World Relief and Lutheran Disaster Relief.

We provide a place where people are freed. We proclaim freedom from sin, that Christ has freed us from worrying about our salvation. (Grace alone!) We express our freedom through our generous and loving service. Our ministry groups include choirs, women's group, quilters, and much more. We provide hands on service through Christmas Hampers, local clean up work, mission trips. Our goal is to help others who are held down to experience some of the love, compassion and care that Christ has given us. These joyful expressions of our freedom are the fruits of our faith.


I could simplify it even more--we are here as a connection to the Source of Life. What is life-giving? A place of harbor, water, food. But it is freedom, the freedom of Christ, that truly makes us alive and life-giving! To be a source of life in our community!

As a personal purpose, I pray that people will sense the source of life in and through me!

Book notes: Walking As He Walked

I had started reading Arthur C. Zepp's Walking As He Walked some months ago--and even quoted him in a sermon. I finally finished it during the flight to the States. He published it in 1912 as a reaction or response to two groups of relgious leaders: 1) those who stormed into town with fiery, motivated sermons, but then stormed away to the next town without suggesting or making the connection to a believing, worshiping body, and 2) the believing worhiping bodies who seemed to think that faithfulness is only about attending church once a week, reciting or canting the words put in front of them, and listening passively.

Zepp was a part of the multi-denominational "Holiness" movement which sometimes took the notion of sanctification to a uncomfortable, legalistic level--i.e. If you ain't livin' like thus-n-such, then you ain't really in it, and the Spirit ain't alive in you. Nonetheless, I often find great kernels of wisdom and a better sense of faith and trust in God's grace by challenging myself, because it's true, salvation aside since that is based on God's grace alone, I pray that the Holy Spirit's fire can be fanned within me, that it will change me and that I can be a better agent in his world!

Here's a few good quotes:

"A fanatic, at his wife's funeral, arose and said: 'I want to testify, I have gotten so far along I do not feel grief now.' The pastor dropped his head, as if in brief meditation, then suddenly looked up and said, 'Brother, go home and ask God to forgive you!' Amen. God wants none to get so far along!" (p. 22). Jesus was a man of sorrows; he walks with us and hallows our sorrows.

"Aggressive Evangelism Committees, Conferences, and Forward Movements...get together and discuss, discuss, 'how,' and 'method,' and 'ways' and 'means' of doing his work... The power of God would be present if half as much time were spent in humiliation, heart searching, surrender, and prayer, and faith for it, as is spent in discussion, suggestion, and debate" (pp. 73-74).

"An old minister once said...to a young preacher, 'Young man, you are called to this church, not in the first place to make so many pastoral calls, or to preach so many sermons, but to live among the people the best life you can" (p. 127).

Sabbatical, Day 42

Wow, how to catch up on the last several days?

After Edinburgh, Scotland, we took the train to Stratford-Upon-Avon, to stay overnight in one of the oldest inns: the White Swan. They have a neat painting preserved on the wall of their dining room that dates to the mid-1500's and illustrates the Apocryphal story of Tobit. That evening we watched the Royal Shakespeare Company perform the Merchant of Venice. So cool! The costuming suggested early 1900's. The stage and props were minimal, but so well-used and exact. Like the three chests of gold, silver and lead from the story, they were made with what looked like ice blocks, which all shattered at an appropriate dramatic moment. They used the rims of crystal glasses for some of the music, and in ways that added to the stage art and affects in several neat ways. The actor that played the difficult role of Shylock was very good; you could almost understand his anger and desire for revenge.

Anyway, we also visited Shakespeare's birthplace, and Holy Trinity Church where he is buried with his wife and several family members up in front of the east altar.

We returned by train and underground to our London hotel. Before flying back to the States, we visited the National Gallery of London, Trafalger Square, St. Martin's in the Fields, Speakers' Corner, the Sherlock Holmes Museum, and walked by Buckingham Palace during the changing of the guard.

Yesterday, it was so nice to see the boys at the airport. They have been having a great time with their godparents in D.C.--the zoo, a waterpark, visiting their godfather's workplace, and many other activities. We will visit the National Cathedral tomorrow, and on Monday we will drive up to visit Pauline's godparents near Baltimore.

Book notes: A Sense of the Sacred

I'm about a quarter into R. Kevin Seasoltz's A Sense of the Sacred; Theological Foundations of Christian Architecture and Art. I'm a little surpised--happily. As the title suggests, it's a more scholarly book, and I was a bit intimidated. There are some pretty heady sentences like this one:

"The model takes the incarnational principle seriously; it seeks to draw out the implications of Christ's consubstantiality with human beings in terms of intersubjectivity and the personal encounter between human beings and Christ" (p. 44). Wow. I'm glad he takes time to explain and unpack statements like that!

Luckily, there is much that this historical look at art and architecture helps explain.

In positive terms, here's how he describes these generations' approach to growing in faith: "This strain in postmodern culture is characterized by humility, which acknowledges that the human grasp of truth is always partial. Both human persons and communities are fragile and finite; hence, their discourse about themselves and about God must be tentative. This does not mean that truth is relative; it means that the human grasp of any revelation about God is open to the possibility of further revelation, understanding, and clarification" (p. 31).

Taking the example of documents that came out of the Second Vatican Council, he writes, "The church is described in terms of a rich complex of images...It is the people of God, a holy communion, the body of Christ, and the sacrament of salvation. What is important for architectural purposes is that the emphasis has shifted from a pyramidal image of the church dominated by a clerical elite to an image of the church as an assembly" (p. 43).

He writes about how liturgy and liturgical art can come together, responding to the deep longings and searchings in postmodernism:
"Jesus died to the human tendency toward isolation, self-centeredness, and self-preoccupation. He inserted himself into the human community and entered deeply into the healing and corrective dimensions of human life. Through the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, he empowers us to do the same" (p. 55). These connections between each assembly and God, and between each assembly and the community in need must be made explicitly and incarnated through their liturgy, their sacraments, their art and their architecture. "There is an essential link between the celebration of the liturgy and social justice and ethical behavior" (p. 59).

The struggle with liturgy and art, Seasoltz realizes, is that it often calls people to dig deeper and to reflect on more than the surface. "Living in a technological environment, people do not easily develop a contemplative disposition that enables them to interpret experience on deep levels and to look beneath the surface of events" (p. 59). It is the the church assembly's responsibility to provide the adequate time, space, words, gestures, silences, images, art and architecture to encourage and guide people to this reflection, for there we can find healing and the motivation for meaningful activities. We must teach people to be open to transformation: "They must be willing to enter into the symbols and to expect transformation to take place...Liturgical celebrations must be accompanied by a reflective or contemplative disposition and a life of personal prayer on the part of those who participate. The dawning of understanding and the disclosure of fresh meaning usually come gradually and often unpredictably to those who do involve themselves in the symbols and who spend time with them" (p. 61).

Book notes: Canterbury Tales

I enjoyed re-reading Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, even though we decided not to take the day trip out to Canterbury...just not quite enough time. Several of the stories are pretty bawdy, but his intension was to offer it in satire and irony.

His feelings about women's social roles and rights are surprising, given that he was writing in the 1380's and '90's. Through the character of the Wife of Bath, he lifts up and criticizes all the mixed conflicting messages that are expected of, written about, or preached to women.

After the Cleric tells a tale about Griselda, who allows herself to be tested and tormented by her husband for many years, Chaucer breaks into the flow of the tales through the words of "Chaucer's Envoy" who says, "Oh, noble wives, full of high wisdom, let no humility nail down your tongue...Don't be hoodwinked in your innocence; take the control into your own hands. Engrave this lesson deeply in your memories, for it will work to the common profit of mankind. You wives, strong as big camels, stand up for your own rights; don't allow men to do injustices to you. And weak wives, feeble in battle, be fierce as a tiger yonder in India."

To bring all these characters and stories together, Chaucer used a pilgrimage from London to Canterbury. It provided a time and place for 20+ people of vastly different social & economic circles to come together on relatively equal footing, to tell their stories and--more important--to interact with and affect each other, primarily over the issue of fidelity and relationships. For examply, once the Wife of Bath finishes her prologue and story, nearly everyone that follows somehow references her or begs her pardon. Various characters are given opportunity to air their grievances (or insults) against the other, and then are forced to hear the other side. Normally, most of these people would not be seen interacting with one another, but here they all come under the "Host's roof and rules"--even as they journey.

This relates to something R. Kevin Seasoltz suggests as a goal of a church community: "The pilgrims leave their familiar lives behind and join for a time an egalitarian community on a liminal journey toward a sacred space or place. Following their journey, ...the pilgrims reenter society as new persons who have been changed by the experience" (A Sense of the Sacred, p. 73). Think of going to a youth or women's gathering, to a Promise Keepers' event, a mission trip, or the 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk. Besides the stated social goal/destination of these events, the real "agents of change" for each individual are the friends and strangers with whom we enteract along the way or during the event.

Seasoltz goes on, "[Similarly,] a sacred space [like a church building or sanctuary] puts people in a place that is 'bewixt and between'; it is distinct from the secular spaces that people occupy most of their lives, but it is not the final resting place where people hope to find their lasting home. While in the sacred space they leave behind the structures that often pit them against one another...Christians are gathered for penitential purposes, to acknowledge their need for the saving presence of God, and to be transformed so that they might be able to live in the secular structures of society in a way that is consonant with their calling to be faithful disciples of God and brothers and sisters to one another in Christ and through the power of the Holy Spirit" (ibid.).

Poll results: UK sites

Top 4 picks for the UK sites were (highest first)...

Westminster Abbey (yes, we went),
Canterbury Cathedral (we had to miss it),
Edinburgh Castle (yes, we went),
& St. Paul's Cathedral (yes, we went).

Sabbatical, Day 37

A few days ago, on the 4th, before our trip north to Scotland, we took a day trip to Battle, England. The town lies alongside the Battlefield of Hastings. The audio tour was great, and also lead us through the remains of Battle Abbey, much of which are still standing.

We spent much of the 5th on the train to Edinburgh, Scotland.


Yesterday we worshiped in St. Giles Cathedral (High Kirk) of Edinburgh, Scotland, and toured Edinburgh Castle, and spent a lot of time walking around to find the right bus back to our (very nice) B&B.

Today, we visited the Palace of Holyrood (where the Queen spends part of her summer)
and the adjoining remains of the Holyrood Abbey. Then, we saw the Queen's Gallery, which is a constantly changing display of the Royal collections. The current display features a number of Italian Renaissance paintings and sketches. We also visited Canongate Kirk, or the Kirk of Holyroodhouse, which was built sometime after the destruction of the Abbey. I may talk more about these in a later post, but it has been almost sensory overload these last two days...almost.

Book notes: Liturgy and the Arts

Last night I finished reading Albert Rouet's Liturgy and the Arts (translated by Paul Philibert). Besides describing the relation between the two, it gave me some insight into the struggle I've seen in many artists' relationship to the church. Liturgy needs art, contains and uses art; our Lord is the true Lord of the Dance, after all. In fact, Rouet spends an entire chapter on the struggle that the church has historically had with dance (pp.123-151). Religious piety often has a suspicion of the arts--unless "properly restrained." Meanwhile, the artist values freedom of expression and is often suspicious of the constraints of liturgical or "religious-pious" expectations. "The artist is free to inovate, but not the celebrant" (p. 32).

But if the liturgy attempts to function without art and new innovation:
"A scrupulous obedience to rubrics will lead to a ritual materialism...legalistically perfect and humanly deadly, because their performance leaves no place for the present--this particular people, these human circumstances, this moment of time" (p. 11).
"We might make fun of some popular liturgical songs, but are they not a reflection of present day sensibilities?" (p. 10).
"Each celebration calls for preparation, and even requires some new composition, or else it will fall into categories of mere habit, boredom, and finally insignificance" (p. 2).

On the other hand,
"Music for the Church, whether by Rossini or by a rock group, only becomes liturgical by taking a certain distance from secular music" (p. 41).
& vs. the common comparison of liturgical worship to theater:
"Theater moves from the stage to the outside, toward spectators, whereas liturgical action comes from the outside (like a procession) to move progressively closer and closer to mystery" (p. 44).

It is within the desire for grace that we find "a convergence between the arts and liturgy" (p. 38). "If the arts...express a transcendence of the human and an attraction toward the infinite, liurgy brings to humanity a healing of its deformities and gives it the image of a splendor glimpsed" (p. 40). "The liturgical act goes 'from God's people to God's more deeply rooted people'" (p. 5).

Re: the frequent struggle with time limitations imposed on our celebrations--
"Liturgy does not go along with horizontal time. It follows the depths of time; it looks for the intensity of time" (p.63). "Busy people...[often] waste time because they don't enter deeply into the things that they do" (p. 79). "The real liturgical problem is not whether or not to do away with [clergy robes], to reduce the sermon to twelve minutes, or to finish Mass within fifty-five minutes...The real problem is how to dwell within time so as to make it exist for us as strong time. The pastor has to look for a rhythm of celebration that establishes a good usage of time" (p. 80).


Rouet is presenting a kind of theological thought process, and doesn't often give specifics. In one chapter he writes on how liturgy with art tries to help us with orientation. This was the first time I noticed that the word "orient-ation" means to "find east," or where the sun rises - the great daily natural symbol for resurrection. The art of our spaces can help us to spiritually move toward that opening that lies somewhere "just beyond" or over the altar. That's why such areas around and over the altar are often surrounded by empty space and height, a silent prayer for God to come and fill it. Other traditional sacred spaces include places where a spring flows, or once flowed, a natural symbol for the source of life, a good place for a baptistery or font.


Speaking of the font, Rouet does offer these two concrete opinions regarding the placement of font and altar:
"How can we make it clear that baptism belongs to a Christian's entrance into the life of the Church if the baptistery is found at the foot of the altar? It belongs at the place where one enters the church building!" (p. 45).
"We should be able to move about [the altar], to rest in meditation near it, to make a circle around it" (p. 44).

I think this summarizes many of the elements Rouet says are needed for beautiful, meaningful, deep liturgical celebrations:
"Liturgy is harmonization of gestures and words bound up in silence--gestures, words, and silence--shape liturgical time. Time within liturgy is not only a dramatic action, it is prayer" (p. 72).

I enjoyed the translator's bold statement: "Arts are not for ornamentation, but for evocation...to map out the location of God's presence and to detonate the sacramental potential of the world" (p.ix).

Sabbatical, Day 33

We killed our feet today...

especially since two of the major Underground lines weren't operating and we had to patch together others to get whre we wanted.

We made it to Westminster Abbey & St Margaret's. Wow, hope they don't have to stack to many more sarcophagi in there... It's getting crowded with kings and queens remains...and floorspace is prime real estate! Saw plenty of beautiful art, including images of nature.

We had lunch in the British Museum where we looked through the Egyptian, Assyrian, and Greek sculpture displays. Notably, we saw the Rosetta Stone (click) and pieces from the Parthenon. Afterwards, we had just enough time to get back to the hotel to change for high tea at the Georgian Restaurant in Harrod's (click). We then looked through quite a few of the shops, but spent most of our time in the Food Halls where we purchased items to take home for a late evening meal.

I took a jog around Kensington Park as the sun was setting...very beautiful.

Dinner in the hotel room included 2 cheeses: Red Chesire English and a Berkswell, and 3 different kinds of Prosciuto: Tivoli-Fiourrcci, Parma Ham, & Extra Seasoned Parma Ham. This was washed down by a Claret bottled for Harrod's by Maison Sichel, Bordeaux, France. All-in-all a rather European-eccletic (EU) meal.

I put aside the Borchgrave book; the illustrations are beautiful, but the writing was a bit flowery and low on history. Now I'm reading Liturgy and the Arts, translated from Albert Rouet's original French.

Sabbatical, Day 32

We are safely in our London Hotel after a number of delays and transfers. One bag managed to travel with us; we are hoping the second arrives today. Yesterday, after dinner at an Italian restaurant we walked around Kensington Park where we saw many swans, and Kensington Palace - from a distance (some kind of formal dinner going on) - and many people playing futball or rugby.

We are enjoying some of the directions/phrases:
at the airport, asking people to come to the counter to "make yourself known."
if the bathroom is being used, it is "engaged."
at the underground, as you step into the train you are to "mind the gap."
or "mind your head" if the ceiling is low.

Today we are visiting Westminster Abbey and surrounding sites.

I am about a third through Chaucer's Canterbury Tales and reading A Journey into Christian Art by Helen de Borchgrave.