Learning the dance

Mom sent me to Miss Vernetta's Dance Studio when I was four. I couldn't walk across a room without crashing into something at that age. Mom figured Miss Vernetta (and I studied under her) could teach me tap and ballet so I'd be a little less klutzy. I'm not so sure it worked ... but I did have my moment of playing Shirley Temple (at least in my mind) when I danced at the San Diego County Fair in 1970.

Beloved Husband and I have tried to do some basic ballroom dancing. I suck at it. I'd probably be better at it if I didn't try to lead. I know that must come as quite a shock for those of you who know me ... OK, you don't really have to fake the astonishment ... it's more like a page out of the Book of DUH! I really do like dancing. Really ... even when I really suck at it. I don't know why because sometimes it feels so alien.

The same is true of music. I play guitar ... kind of. As a "lefty" it was hard to find teachers. I don't play that often and I really don't have a natural talent for it. I love music and I play from time to time but I have to work at it. Mostly I sing. That I can do ... but I still have to work at it.

The same is true of worship for me. I love the liturgy of the Episcopal Church, but it's not easy. Learning it takes some work and, well, hanging out with it. When new people come to Grace Church, we hand them a bulletin and then they sit in a pew with two books in the rack in front of them: a red book with a cross on the cover and a blue book that says "The Hymnal 1982." Bulletins ... prayer books ... and hymnals ... OH MY! And, we ask you to juggle them in varying configurations while standing, sitting and kneeling.

As my oldest daughter used to say when she was four: "Oh MAN!!" It's complicated at one level ... like learning a dance and you feel awkward at first. Or learning that fingering run and thinking you'll never get it. Or learning a new mad skill in soccer and falling on your face a few times (or maybe a lot of times).

There is always talk in the church about how to make our worship "more seeker friendly" or "more approachable." I think this is a constant question we need to be asking to prevent the church from becoming an "insider club" of those who are in the know and those who are not. However, I think we can make a terrible mistake in assuming that visitors and newcomers are actually put off by our "Episcopal aerobics." There are people who are drawn to our liturgy and want to learn it like they might want to learn to dance or play an instrument.

"Insiders" can tend to make assumptions that because our liturgy can be challenging it somehow equates to meaning that newcomers can't figure it out and we are driving people away from the Church. I'm not sure this is a valid conclusion. What if newcomers are challenged but drawn to learning about the liturgy? What if they are inspired to learn more about it because it is a bit complicated?

Too many times, I've seen churches print absolutely every word and every note of every music score in a bulletin each week (and burning through a lot of paper) in an attempt to be more "seeker friendly." But instead of pre-digesting the liturgy into a more "accessible form," what would it look like if we gave better "stage directions" in our bulletins, be more clear about how to find hymns and service music, put bookmarks into our prayer books and hymnals, and yes ... even put pauses into our liturgy and listen for the rustling of books to calm down as people find the page before speaking a word of the liturgy?

I'd love to hear from people new to the "dance." What brought you into a liturgical church? What was challenging for you about the worship? What was easy? Was the challenge of liturgy off-putting? Did you stay ... or did you go? If you stayed, what was it that kept you coming?

Pilgrimage ... Part II

Well, it's "Back to School" time this week. Our girls are back in school - one in 4th grade and one in 7th. Hard to believe it's only been 2 weeks since we were in England.

I confess I do miss the worship in England. I guess partly because I could sit back and enjoy it instead of having to do it all myself. But partly because I do like traditional worship and my environment right now is anything but traditional. I miss the music most of all. Me and my guitar just don't hold a candle to the men and boys choir of St. Thomas the Apostle in Leicester!

Which reminds me of the "thinnest" place on our trip. We spent the last 3 days in England up in York. The spirituality of York is more Celtic than Roman (even though the Roman Basilica's northwest corner is under the York Minster's tower!). Roman ruins are everywhere, but the ecclesiology of this part of England was shaped by the Celtic spirituality of people like St. Cuthbert, St. William, James the Deacon and Hilda of Whitby (the last of whom is depicted on the covering to the font at York Minster carrying a crozier!). Anyway, there's a more mystical spirit in York than I found anywhere else.

The night before we left England, we went to Evensong at York Minster. The choir of St. Thomas the Apostle were singing the service and it was August 15 - the Feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary ... so it was "smells and bells" all the way! The procession entered the quire where we were seated and the choir was vested in classic Anglican style - ruffled collars, red cassocks and white cottas. When the cantor intoned, "O LORD, open thou our lips," the choir responded in exquisite harmony "And our mouth shall shew forth thy praise!" Our youngest daughter's eyes were like saucers. She poked me in the side and whispered, "Whoa!" Whoa is right!

The service was gorgeous and our girls were caught up in it. Our 12 year old was blase (but that's all part of the "being 12" thing), but our 8 year old said afterwards, "I so TOTALLY felt God there!" That's the point ... worship is supposed to transport you outside yourself and connect you with the divine.

I guess that's why I can't really be a full-throttle Protestant. Of course, a true Protestant would point to my need for this kind of worship as proof of my weak faith - after all, such "popish" things are only spiritual crutches. Perhaps that's true, but my experience of Protestant worship is that it spends more time intellectualizing about God than experiencing God. Now that's just one woman's opinion, but that's how I feel. There's a heavy emphasis on Scripture and preaching, but the sacraments and liturgy are more spartan. In fairness, my Protestant brothers and sisters do have some great preaching ... but after the sermon, then what? Don't get me wrong, preaching is important, but it cannot stand alone for me.

The whole of the liturgy stands outside time and space in a way that preaching alone doesn't. It transcends me and my milieu. It connects me with those who have gone before ... and those who will come after I'm long gone. It shapes me, even if I'm not aware of it.

Someone once said of the Anglican liturgy, "You work the words and the words work you." It's an experiential spirituality rather than a dogmatic one. It's a thin place for me ... and my family too.