This has been a powerful three months.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude for this tremendous gift from Mount Olive, and the board of directors and singers of the National Lutheran Choir. As I traveled, I often had to explain what I was doing, and people marveled at the fact that Mount Olive and the choir would allow such a thing. (I think it is not only something they "allow", they would probably insist on it - one NLC singer told me he selfishly wanted it to happen - he knew it would energize the next few years...). I have to say, it really made Mount Olive and NLC look good, although that would not be important to either, or the reason for the sabbatical leave.
Susan has learned through her research, that the quickest path to creativity is a break in the pattern. This opens up new pathways in the brain. This has occurred.
For me, the path to learning which goes deep and lasts long in my memory is through experience. Certainly I can read books and (shudder here) complete degrees, but there's something about my brain cells that causes things I see, hear and experience to be remembered far more effectively. This has occurred.
To those of you who helped this sabbatical occur: Thank you from the inner most depth of my being. I feel like I have made the most of this time. I did not sit on my hands and sleep these three months, although I did enjoy forgetting what day it was. I got up and went everywhere I could afford to go. (and perhaps more than we could afford....) I wanted to experience the best of the best, and did that. I also learned through (sorry to admit) negative experiences. I learned again what it's like for the visitor. I learned how important, valuable, and hospitable historic liturgy is. I was reminded about how many places exists where there are profound and wonderful things going on. I was reminded about how many hard-working folks there are who care deeply and do their best, and often without much attention for it, and sometimes are met with slaps in the face. This includes both church musicians and pastors to be sure, but I often thought of that with the airline people: flight attendants, pilots, service agents - who have been bumped around a lot lately, treated poorly by the airline yet still can smile at and with us passengers. I even kind of grew to appreciated those business super-travelers who hover at the gates to be the first to board in first-class cabin: they too are loved creations of God!
Mostly, I am grateful and excited about what we GET to be and do as Lutherans. We get to combine the wonderful imaginative organ playing I heard in France with the outstanding Choral music I heard in St. Thomas Church, New York, and we GET to sing our hearts out as a congregation, which in my experience (which now is broader) is uniquely outstanding at Mount Olive - although we do not hold exclusive rights on that. We GET to use the historic/hospitable liturgy - through which we GET to highlight something other than ourselves: God.
And this extended absence has also proven the old cliche: "absence makes the heart fonder." I have truly fallen further deep in love with the two organizations with whom we GET to share our selves: Mount Olive and the National Lutheran Choir. I am completely committed, and eager to return with many new ideas ready to go.
Luckiest guy alive.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Monday, April 7, 2008
Thoughts/experiences as "THE VISITOR"
For most Sundays of this time on Sabbatical, I have attended many services as the venerated "visitor." Recognizing that some of my thoughts about this may be more related to my personality style I offer them for ponderage. (FYI: I rode the fence on the Meyers/Briggs introvert/extrovert chart. I do have strong extrovert tendencies, but I also gain energy through solitude. I know some of you are choking right now: "Introvert?! I don't think so!!" I actually can gain energy both ways) With that in mind, consider my thoughts about my experiences with a grain of salt, with a raised eye-brow, or ignore them. I can admit that there is the possibility that some visitors look for different things than I. Sigh.
I do NOT like attention when visiting a church. The main thing is: I'm there for the same reason everyone else there is: to worship God. To sing the faith, to hear God's word, to participate in the Holy Meal. We're all there as equals: long time "member", visitor, young, middle-aged, older, single, coupled, gay, straight, balding, thick hair, over-weight, under-weight, extrovert, introvert, all the same: all part of the much bigger picture - God's people living creatively in creation.
What comes off in many places (intentionally or unintentionally ) is that many congregations think the visitor is there BECAUSE OF THEM. There is a tendency to regard visitors as a piece of meat for the "financial and human resources" of the church membership rolls (I actually heard that phrase used in a church some time ago). Not once did I attend a church liturgy because I was thinking about membership. Not once. Yet in some places I was bombarded with commercials about membership. Makes me want to run. If someone is "interested" in that, would it not be obvious to them what to do about that and not be something that warrants mentioning all over the place?
Also - I got so tired of hearing and seeing the word "welcome" and wanted to say out loud: "If you have to say and write it so often, seems like there may be a problem". Just DO it, and do it with the sense of we're all there for the same reason. This was poignantly illustrated by a two-day experience in France. One evening at the faith community in Taize France - overwhelming efforts to say and print the word "welcome" yet I could participate very little in the liturgy, to the next evening in Vezelay France, doing evening prayer with the monks and sisters who never once made eye contact with me, but I was overwhelmed with a sense of welcome into the liturgy. Even the man with the irritating cell phone was not shunned - he too was welcome - evident because no one batted an eye at the rings of his phone or his noisy exit because the focus was God, not him, or the monks and sisters themselves. (Ok, I'm guilty. I noticed him. I need to learn a lesson from the Monks and sisters)
I loved the places where I felt one with everyone there. We all did what was planned (on our behalf) for us to do - no "target" group singled out with any special attention beyond God. Sermons were not laden with insider stories or personal "know me" stories - but were about God. Musical style was unified and expressible by all and not "audience targeted," but rather God targeted, and had purpose in the flow of the entire liturgy, and was truthful to who was there.
Most surprising were my experiences with places that simply did the historic order of liturgy, whether it was a prayer office or the Eucharist. (I know - my Lutheranism is showing!) I could participate - I knew what came up, when, why, and could do ritual with everyone because I felt the larger picture and not a local one. And I could add my practices to theirs without grand-standing. This was especially noticeable when I was in a foreign country and couldn't understand the language very well. It's at places where they "make it up" that things quickly becomes more about them - intentionally or not. And to those who claim following the historic liturgy excludes the visitor, how should one respond? Take the liturgy away from EVERYONE? If a visitor doesn't know what's coming up or understand what's going on, is the response to remove it from everyone? And why assume they don't? We should focus on understanding the power of example, or re-examine what we do and why and evaluate if this is still meaningful.
I feel it will take some years for the Church (ecumenically) to learn what happens when the church puts all the evangelism eggs into one basket: worship, which was such a huge effort in the church during the 1990's. It's a mixed agenda that can harm the body. My personal suspicion is that where this has "worked" (and define "worked" as you wish) there is something else that was also present that really made it appear "successful" (again, define "successful" as you wish - I'm not so sure it was).
True worship can only be that.
I do NOT like attention when visiting a church. The main thing is: I'm there for the same reason everyone else there is: to worship God. To sing the faith, to hear God's word, to participate in the Holy Meal. We're all there as equals: long time "member", visitor, young, middle-aged, older, single, coupled, gay, straight, balding, thick hair, over-weight, under-weight, extrovert, introvert, all the same: all part of the much bigger picture - God's people living creatively in creation.
What comes off in many places (intentionally or unintentionally ) is that many congregations think the visitor is there BECAUSE OF THEM. There is a tendency to regard visitors as a piece of meat for the "financial and human resources" of the church membership rolls (I actually heard that phrase used in a church some time ago). Not once did I attend a church liturgy because I was thinking about membership. Not once. Yet in some places I was bombarded with commercials about membership. Makes me want to run. If someone is "interested" in that, would it not be obvious to them what to do about that and not be something that warrants mentioning all over the place?
Also - I got so tired of hearing and seeing the word "welcome" and wanted to say out loud: "If you have to say and write it so often, seems like there may be a problem". Just DO it, and do it with the sense of we're all there for the same reason. This was poignantly illustrated by a two-day experience in France. One evening at the faith community in Taize France - overwhelming efforts to say and print the word "welcome" yet I could participate very little in the liturgy, to the next evening in Vezelay France, doing evening prayer with the monks and sisters who never once made eye contact with me, but I was overwhelmed with a sense of welcome into the liturgy. Even the man with the irritating cell phone was not shunned - he too was welcome - evident because no one batted an eye at the rings of his phone or his noisy exit because the focus was God, not him, or the monks and sisters themselves. (Ok, I'm guilty. I noticed him. I need to learn a lesson from the Monks and sisters)
I loved the places where I felt one with everyone there. We all did what was planned (on our behalf) for us to do - no "target" group singled out with any special attention beyond God. Sermons were not laden with insider stories or personal "know me" stories - but were about God. Musical style was unified and expressible by all and not "audience targeted," but rather God targeted, and had purpose in the flow of the entire liturgy, and was truthful to who was there.
Most surprising were my experiences with places that simply did the historic order of liturgy, whether it was a prayer office or the Eucharist. (I know - my Lutheranism is showing!) I could participate - I knew what came up, when, why, and could do ritual with everyone because I felt the larger picture and not a local one. And I could add my practices to theirs without grand-standing. This was especially noticeable when I was in a foreign country and couldn't understand the language very well. It's at places where they "make it up" that things quickly becomes more about them - intentionally or not. And to those who claim following the historic liturgy excludes the visitor, how should one respond? Take the liturgy away from EVERYONE? If a visitor doesn't know what's coming up or understand what's going on, is the response to remove it from everyone? And why assume they don't? We should focus on understanding the power of example, or re-examine what we do and why and evaluate if this is still meaningful.
I feel it will take some years for the Church (ecumenically) to learn what happens when the church puts all the evangelism eggs into one basket: worship, which was such a huge effort in the church during the 1990's. It's a mixed agenda that can harm the body. My personal suspicion is that where this has "worked" (and define "worked" as you wish) there is something else that was also present that really made it appear "successful" (again, define "successful" as you wish - I'm not so sure it was).
True worship can only be that.
Easter 3 - Wausau, WI
Another hymn festival...another shot in the arm for those hard-working leaders of the local chapter of the American Guild of Organists in Wausau, WI.
The event was held at First Presbyterian Church, downtown Wausau. It was a great event - good choir, good turn out for the congregation and community, good singing, good response. All this is mostly due to the hard work of the local planners. They really work hard for these events, and it sometimes doesn't seem fair for me to show up Friday and do the weekend in a whirlwind, and get a lot of the credit. Sigh. Anyway, it was a great experience.
It also surprised many of them for me to attend worship there. It is always a good thing to experience liturgy in contexts other than my typical place. The service was thoughtful, carefully planned and thematic - very nice to see thoughtfulness put into the mix. One practice I keep forgetting exists: for Communion, the bread and wine are brought to the people IN THEIR pews! All eat the bread right away, and wait to all drink the shot-glass (or grape-juice) at the same time. Reminded me of the "Love Feast" we experienced in a Moravian Church in Bethlehem, PA - where they did this kind of distribution with Sweet rolls and coffee (for real!! in a very ritualistic way!!), all drinking the coffee at the same moment - as the music came to its climax (and no words! Hmmmm...)
Nevertheless, it is always wonderful to witness how meaningful a congregation's worship is to them. They really do love God!
The event was held at First Presbyterian Church, downtown Wausau. It was a great event - good choir, good turn out for the congregation and community, good singing, good response. All this is mostly due to the hard work of the local planners. They really work hard for these events, and it sometimes doesn't seem fair for me to show up Friday and do the weekend in a whirlwind, and get a lot of the credit. Sigh. Anyway, it was a great experience.
It also surprised many of them for me to attend worship there. It is always a good thing to experience liturgy in contexts other than my typical place. The service was thoughtful, carefully planned and thematic - very nice to see thoughtfulness put into the mix. One practice I keep forgetting exists: for Communion, the bread and wine are brought to the people IN THEIR pews! All eat the bread right away, and wait to all drink the shot-glass (or grape-juice) at the same time. Reminded me of the "Love Feast" we experienced in a Moravian Church in Bethlehem, PA - where they did this kind of distribution with Sweet rolls and coffee (for real!! in a very ritualistic way!!), all drinking the coffee at the same moment - as the music came to its climax (and no words! Hmmmm...)
Nevertheless, it is always wonderful to witness how meaningful a congregation's worship is to them. They really do love God!
Easter 2 - Hymn Festival, WA/DC
Washington DC (er, Springfield, VA, actually)
The weekend of Easter 2 was spent at St. Mark's Lutheran Church, Springfield VA with Susan, providing a workshop all day Saturday, and a Hymn Festival Sunday afternoon. Again, these are important. The choir and the music leaders form a very active facet of this congregation's life - and these events are always a good shot in the arm for things that are so meaningful and important to them. The workshop Saturday was about choral vowels, rehearsing music for the hymn festival, accompanying hymns of varying styles, and Susan led a workshop on poetry and hymn texts. They had tremendous participation all day - a very high number from their own choir, and also area church musicians. Their own pastors attended as well, which was really nice to see.
The three music staff people there are very hard working (I'm guessing way beyond their "employment status") and committed. They were very involved all day as learners themselves as well as coordinators.
What really struck me about this place was their recent journey. (As in the past five years or so). Susan and I have been to this parish before - in fact, twice before offering hymn festivals. They have always been a place which made use of a good variety of musical style, but predominately "traditional" liturgically and musically - and were excited about that. They had, for example, put in a very good pipe organ in the past 15 years and were extremely happy with this and all it represented. A few years ago, however, a "consultant" from the ELCA came and spent one weekend with them and told them they needed to change everything by offering a contemporary service at the prime hour (11 am), and hold simultaneous Sunday School and worship. Being eagerly faithful, they took the advice to heart, implemented it, and just about destroyed the congregation. They had always been excited about high quality music and liturgy and this process sent many of their long-time members OUT THE DOOR, looking for depth in liturgy and music, feeling wounded about all the years of effort, energy, money and pieces of their heart being sent out the door with them. In the end, the "contemporary service" fizzled out and was very recently abandoned. Things are slowly coming back to life, but may never return to the fervor that was. This is more than tragic. It seems criminal.
What bothers me about this is the notion that the people there (and their journey, their contribution to what goes on there) are not of significance as they consider how to live as God's people. There may indeed be places where the recommended schedule of offerings connects with additional folks, but it's obviously not the case in places like this. And I continue to grow stronger with the feelings that: WHAT WILL DRAW THE VENERATED "VISITOR" IN will not so much be the style of what is done, but the witness of the depth and meaningfulness of those doing it. As Eric Routley said: "People won't leave saying 'what great music (or preaching) this congregation has," but rather "What a great God these people have!"
Memory is a critical part of a community's life. It needs to be in balance with vision. Take memory away and what remains is a congregation with Alzheimer's: bodies with increasingly empty souls as the memory fades. Church music can never be like the radio - because it refuses to be boxed in, delegated to an electronic speaker with participation limited to dialing until we find what we as individuals uniquely prefer, then using our ears only. We get to use our voices, with others. And the voices sing memory - the collective song. The songs of the church are people's faith journey, adopted by a the entire community.
This parish is testament to how this is true: the song will not disappear. Even after an assault, it returns to life and will bring new shoots from the old roots.
The weekend of Easter 2 was spent at St. Mark's Lutheran Church, Springfield VA with Susan, providing a workshop all day Saturday, and a Hymn Festival Sunday afternoon. Again, these are important. The choir and the music leaders form a very active facet of this congregation's life - and these events are always a good shot in the arm for things that are so meaningful and important to them. The workshop Saturday was about choral vowels, rehearsing music for the hymn festival, accompanying hymns of varying styles, and Susan led a workshop on poetry and hymn texts. They had tremendous participation all day - a very high number from their own choir, and also area church musicians. Their own pastors attended as well, which was really nice to see.
The three music staff people there are very hard working (I'm guessing way beyond their "employment status") and committed. They were very involved all day as learners themselves as well as coordinators.
What really struck me about this place was their recent journey. (As in the past five years or so). Susan and I have been to this parish before - in fact, twice before offering hymn festivals. They have always been a place which made use of a good variety of musical style, but predominately "traditional" liturgically and musically - and were excited about that. They had, for example, put in a very good pipe organ in the past 15 years and were extremely happy with this and all it represented. A few years ago, however, a "consultant" from the ELCA came and spent one weekend with them and told them they needed to change everything by offering a contemporary service at the prime hour (11 am), and hold simultaneous Sunday School and worship. Being eagerly faithful, they took the advice to heart, implemented it, and just about destroyed the congregation. They had always been excited about high quality music and liturgy and this process sent many of their long-time members OUT THE DOOR, looking for depth in liturgy and music, feeling wounded about all the years of effort, energy, money and pieces of their heart being sent out the door with them. In the end, the "contemporary service" fizzled out and was very recently abandoned. Things are slowly coming back to life, but may never return to the fervor that was. This is more than tragic. It seems criminal.
What bothers me about this is the notion that the people there (and their journey, their contribution to what goes on there) are not of significance as they consider how to live as God's people. There may indeed be places where the recommended schedule of offerings connects with additional folks, but it's obviously not the case in places like this. And I continue to grow stronger with the feelings that: WHAT WILL DRAW THE VENERATED "VISITOR" IN will not so much be the style of what is done, but the witness of the depth and meaningfulness of those doing it. As Eric Routley said: "People won't leave saying 'what great music (or preaching) this congregation has," but rather "What a great God these people have!"
Memory is a critical part of a community's life. It needs to be in balance with vision. Take memory away and what remains is a congregation with Alzheimer's: bodies with increasingly empty souls as the memory fades. Church music can never be like the radio - because it refuses to be boxed in, delegated to an electronic speaker with participation limited to dialing until we find what we as individuals uniquely prefer, then using our ears only. We get to use our voices, with others. And the voices sing memory - the collective song. The songs of the church are people's faith journey, adopted by a the entire community.
This parish is testament to how this is true: the song will not disappear. Even after an assault, it returns to life and will bring new shoots from the old roots.
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