Liturgy

Connect

8 comments Written on February 22nd, 2013     
Filed under: Culture, Dangerous Worship, Formation, Liturgy

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS.

Have you ever considered how worship gatherings fit into the context of discipleship?

The connection is actually quite strong. To be honest, I had never really thought about it much until I was at a conference a few months ago, and Mindy Caliguire spent a great deal of time talking about discipleship (it turns out that’s what she does at Willow Creek). One of the things she mentioned was that discipleship, while it’s often looked at as a small group or one-on-one sort of responsibility, can be a large group practice. We learn and grow together not only as we read or have conversations, but also as we engage corporately, as the combined voices and minds and hearts of many.

It’s a perspective that should change the way we approach crafting worship gatherings.

For one, the music takes on a new significance; it’s a part of the process of forming all of us into the image of Jesus. These are not a random assortment of songs we enjoy singing; they must be carefully chosen and rehearsed. Furthermore, every part of the music – not just the words – must be carefully thought through; lyrics incorrectly paired with style or flavor changes the way we tell the story. The order of music – and of the whole gathering, from music to liturgy to message, even to the announcements – matters because in the environment that we choose to create people will have a better chance (or not) of connecting with the Creator.

Connections.

What we are doing is helping people make connections, because that’s what a good story does. In the process of crafting a worship gathering as story, we can help our congregations connect what they learned last week to the next week; we can help them connect to creation and to each other; we can help them connect to their Maker and Redeemer.

The thing about connections is that they don’t happen to us; we have to participate in them. Nobody can connect me to God without my permission and conscious engagement – nor to my neighbor. Connections – true, meaningful, lasting, deep connections – happen in the midst of discovery. On some fundamental level, we do not own those connections unless we discover them for ourselves.

Which begs a question: what story are we telling?

Does the story we are telling in and with our gatherings help make those connections, that discovery? To help others to make discoveries, should we be giving answers, or asking more questions? Is it possible that by providing simple answers (how complex could those answers possibly be with only an hour or less to give them?) we’re robbing those in our care of the joy of discovery?

More to the point, what is the nature of the content? If the gospel we preach is so revolutionary and could change the world, it’s a dangerous story to tell. Do we tell dangerous stories or sing dangerous songs? Since God is always advancing towards us – the gospel is always advancing – our gatherings are one of the places that heaven and earth can intersect, overlap, collide.

Connect …

… if we let them.



Nova

3 comments Written on December 28th, 2012     
Filed under: Culture, Liturgy, Style of Worship

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS.

“And the one sitting on the throne said, ‘Look, I am making everything new!’ And then he said to me, ‘Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.’“ [Revelation 21:5]

Tradition and Novelty have, at best, a tenuous relationship in the Church, especially at Christmas (yes, it’s still Christmas, liturgically speaking). It’s a stress point for many creative-types, myself included. The sentimentality of “what we’ve always done” (a stark contrast to the rest of the year in our culture, by the way) tends to dominate our lives for at least the four-ish weeks of Advent; we are judged by the way we can keep to the traditions of the season, and if we lament this at all, we’re called a “scrooge.” While some of the traditions have lost any meaning for us beyond sentimentality (insert the one that annoys you most), some of these traditions continue to inspire most of us towards worship of the Creator (even the most “scrooge-ish” person will have a hard time arguing with candles in a dark room singing … well, anything, really).

It’s a matter of perspective.

Most years, I’m the guy who can’t wait for Christmas to be over; I couldn’t stand the same music in the same way, couldn’t stand the extra work, and couldn’t stand the materialism, consumerism, all the ‘isms. Bah humbug for me. This year, however, I decided at the beginning to try and experience it in a way that might lead me to grow. It changed a lot; many of the songs still annoyed me (though I did change a few chord progressions to make them more interesting), but I found that going into it with the question, “Where is Jesus here?” brought new meaning to things that had, in my mind, become zombies. “O Holy Night,” for example, suddenly came alive, when before, all I could hear was a terrible recording I heard in college of a guy who couldn’t hit the high G.

One of the traditions of our church at Advent is to have a new(er) church family light the candle for us, read the scripture for the week, and share some of their own family traditions with the church. This year, the guide I created for one particular Sunday asked the question, “Share with us: what are you doing this Christmas that’s new? Have there been changes in your family that have prompted a new approach to an otherwise familiar holiday? Have these been easy or difficult to adopt?” The family’s response has stuck with me the last few weeks and, though this is a clumsy paraphrase, I thought I’d share it.

They described how one little trip they didn’t usually take took the whole season and threw all of their traditions off, and yet, in the midst of all the change, they discovered through their kids that this might not have been a bad thing. Instead of relying on their family traditions to get them “into the spirit of the season,” they had to focus instead on the story itself – the Savior Himself. Over time, the traditions had clouded that for them. But the kids got it; for them, Jesus was still the center of the story. Jen said,

“I realized that this is what we are constantly trying to teach our children, and through the hurriedness of life, I was the one who had lost perspective. I simply needed to see Christmas through the eyes of my children. So when you ask, ‘What are you doing new this season,’ our answer is ‘Everything, and maybe that’s just what we needed.’”

What do we really need?

God is a God of faithfulness to His promises, to His traditions as it were. He is true to His character, and works within the flesh of a culture to make Himself known. But so too, God is a God of creativity – He is the Creator; He makes everything new.

With God, there are but constant beginnings, even for tradition.

With God, the old is given new life, every time.

With God, the ancient of days becomes a newborn baby.

With God, even death gives way to resurrection.

What are you doing new this year?



When tragedy strikes…

2 comments Written on December 14th, 2012     
Filed under: Culture, Current Events, Leadership, Liturgy, News

Today’s post is written by Geoff Twigg, Adjunct Professor at North Park University in Chicago. Geoff is a pastor, singer/songwriter, worship leader and ministry consultant, and serves the ECC as a member of the denomination’s Commission on Worship.

Someone posted on the Better Together Facebook group: “It’s Friday morning, December 14th, and  the world just changed. Do I alter my worship plans for Sunday morning, or carry on singing ‘Mary’s Boy Child,’ ‘Joy to the World,’ and ‘What Child is This’?”. It seems that someone got into a school in Connecticut this morning, and though the news is not yet clear we have heard that 27 people are dead including 18 children. The question posted to our Facebook community is a very good one.

Anything we say can sounds trite at a time like this. Emotions are raw, and the shock we experience, together with the current media style of repetitious, slowly evolving news cycles, means that we are fatigued by the terrible things we hear.

The Church exists, in part at least, to help in situations like this. The world is asking the “why” questions now, today, and perhaps we should be ready to answer them with God’s truth. That’s a lesson we can learn and grow from – to be ready with an explanation of the hope we hold dear. Even now, it’s worth trying to put our thoughts into prayer and take them to the Throne of Grace… Lord, why does this happen? How can we bring comfort to those bereaved and devastated? What, Lord, do you want us to bring to the society in which we live?

In our own hearts, we should be sure that the God who was worthy of praise and adoration yesterday is the same Lord today, still worthy, still expressing grace, mercy and comfort. We’re still God’s people, and the hands and feet of Christ on the earth.

If anyone can stand with those who mourn, it’s the followers of Christ. If there’s anyone who sees the big picture of God’s love for the world, of death and resurrection in Christ, of the sheer hopelessness of a world that lives in the shadow of sin and needs comfort – it’s us. We can stand among our friends and neighbors in the midst of suffering, and gently hold their hands as we grieve together.

Years ago now, our third child died as an infant, just before Christmas. The holidays were forever changed, of course, as we will always remember and be grateful for Andrew’s short life.

Just a few weeks later I was back leading worship at a large event – as a freelance musician I didn’t get paid unless I worked – and I felt like a hypocrite, so I went to the Leadership Counseling that was offered.

The counselors – a couple who had suffered much, and shone profoundly with the light of Christ – were very helpful. They prayed with me, and their kind and wise words brought much peace. Among the things I remember was a challenge; this is a time, they said, to mourn, but also to praise God for the hope you have in the resurrection.

It is not hypocrisy to praise God at a time like this, but it is a sensitive time to draw close to the God of all comfort and speak comfort to our neighbors on God’s behalf.



Leftovers

3 comments Written on November 16th, 2012     
Filed under: Culture, Leadership, Liturgy, Local Church, Music, Order of Worship

Today’s post is written by Jo Anne Taylor, Director of Music and Worship at Bethlehem Covenant Church in Minneapolis, MN.

During our weekly staff meeting, the senior pastor always asks, “What’s left over from last Sunday?”

He asks this question every week, so it really shouldn’t take me by surprise, but it almost always does. My attention is already so focused on what needs to happen before next Sunday that I struggle to remember what happened last Sunday. My wise senior pastor reminds me that we must always have a sense of the past in order to move into the future. Our roots support our branches. “What’s left over from last Sunday?” might be the most important question we discuss as a staff.

Remembering last Sunday is, in itself, an act of worship. We honor God by reflecting on the congregation’s response to a particular song, an idea from the sermon, or the way all the elements fit together in a whole that was greater than the sum of their parts. We also honor God when we take the time to examine what didn’t work in worship: the song that was in an impossible key, or the elements that distracted more than they glorified. Maybe it was an anonymous critical note left by a disgruntled worshipper, or a suspicion that we crossed the line between staying relevant and selling out to the culture around us. Maybe we were so busy minding the details, we failed to see God’s big picture, and we missed out on the transformative work of God in our own lives.

As we savor the leftovers, we identify four components of worship that move us through that transformation God promises his people. Adoration brings us into the presence of God with praise and thanksgiving. Praise and thanksgiving are inextricably linked throughout the psalms. Our adoration reminds us of the vast gulf between God’s goodness and our sinfulness, which brings us to Confession. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9), and so we move immediately to Forgiveness. As God’s forgiven people, we are then Commissioned to go out and share the Good News, making disciples and baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and teaching them Christ’s commands (Matthew 28:19-20).

Adoration
Confession
Forgiveness
Commissioning

As you prepare for this week’s worship, what’s left over from last Sunday?
Taste the sweet and the bitter in the leftovers.
Savor the goodness of the Lord.
Let us prepare to worship God.



Turkey with the “O’s”…

1 Comment » Written on November 9th, 2012     
Filed under: Culture, Liturgy, Stories

Today’s post is written by Geoff Twigg, Adjunct Professor at North Park University in Chicago. Geoff is a pastor, singer/songwriter, worship leader and ministry consultant, and serves the ECC as a member of the denomination’s Commission on Worship.

I will never forget. It was the Fall of 1992 and I was in Pennsylvania, working on a CD of Christian music with a singer named Chris Cowgill. I had met Chris and her husband Craig in England, where he had been stationed with the US Air Force, and we had already made two successful albums together when Craig was transferred back here.

A young couple, Neil and Joan Ostrander, knew that Chris and Craig were new to the neighborhood, and invited us all over to Neil’s parents’ house to celebrate Thanksgiving. Earlier that week I had seen wild turkeys for the first time in my life; they were wandering around the yard near the Cowgills’ rental house, and Craig joked that they obviously didn’t know what week it was. Oddly enough, they weren’t around on the Thursday morning when we set off to visit with the “O’s.”

I was delighted when Neil’s Dad Russell Ostrander and his wife Virginia greeted us like long-lost family members. This was my first experience of Thanksgiving, and I was eager to learn about the holiday and its background, as well as experiencing the day with a real American family – and I was not disappointed.

The house was beautifully decorated with Fall fruits and reminders of the season; a fire blazed in the hearth and we had to dress up with scarves and extra sweaters as we went outside to play football. I was still fit enough to play sports in those days (I caught the heart virus the following summer) and so I learned where to run, how to throw the ball and some basics of the game. Later we sat and watched Emmitt Smith and Troy Aikman give a masterful demonstration in the televised game, in what later turned out to be a Superbowl-winning season for the Dallas Cowboys.

I watched as Neil’s Mom taught a young cousin to make Cranberry Sauce, and saw Neil as he watched his Dad carving the turkey. This was more than just interest; in so many ways I saw the elders passing on the vision and values, the treasures and traditions of America. I learned to appreciate the grateful, generous and inclusive celebration of principles on which this country set its foundations.

Thanksgiving is the one day in our calendar that reminds me of what I, still an Englishman, truly love about America. What brings a tear to my eye when I hear or sing the Star-spangled Banner; one day that seems to me to be the most Christian of all our National Holidays. And for this I am truly grateful.

I’m also struck by another thought. We use a metaphor of ourselves as ‘ambassadors of the kingdom of God to a dark world’ to understand our outreach. This is based on scriptural principles, for instance in 2 Corinthians 5; in that passage, we are described as ambassadors of reconciliation, imploring our neighbors to be reconciled to God.

When we’re in worship together, however, we are coming home. Even if we’re not local, shouldn’t it feel like Thanksgiving?



Silence; golden, but not useful.

Post a Comment » Written on September 14th, 2012     
Filed under: Arts, Formation, Liturgy, Visual Arts
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Today’s post is written by Geoff Twigg, Adjunct Professor at North Park University in Chicago. Geoff is a pastor, singer/songwriter, worship leader and ministry consultant, and serves the ECC as a member of the denomination’s Commission on Worship.

Last week, some of us celebrated a centenary. September the fifth was the birthdate of John Cage, a composer of music and a considerable influence on art in general during his long life. He died in 1992 but his reputation has grown, if anything, and he continues to be talked about and considered by the world of “art music”.

Cage was often bold in creating music that made one think. He took the lead in creating musical processes, and the systems which ran inside his music were quite audible and predictable. Some of it is very beautiful, and some quite obscure. One of the pieces Cage ‘wrote’, probably his best known, is a silent piece (for any instrument or group) called 4’33″ (pronounced “Four Minutes, Thirty Three Seconds”). I won’t bore you with the details, but it’s part of a musical philosophy called automaticism, heavily influenced by Zen Buddhism, and the ‘piece’ really consists of the ambient sounds you hear while the instruments are not playing.

I’m quite sure that 4’33″ will not become a popular choice for Special Music in our worship services. Of course, there are many reasons for this, but the one I want to point out today is that we need to find the art in our services useful, or we can’t really justify it.

We use music to accompany singing, or to cover ‘gaps’ which would otherwise be silent. Or to mask the sound of people walking among us with collection baskets and communion trays. We use pictorial art for bulletin covers and sermon illustrations. We use drama to reinforce our teaching or make people think about a moral dilemma. We use sculpture mostly in memorials or to mark graves. We use architecture to make the building more flexible and useful as a banqueting hall or sports environment, because these days we can’t seem to justify spending money on sacred space.

Looking back on many years in the Evangelical tradition, I can think of very few examples of art, of any form, that was employed for its own value. Of course (back in the day) we had Warner Sallman’s art which I personally enjoy. Walking through churches I often see pictures and statuettes that remain, remembered but hardly ever featured, because they were a gift from a member or a favorite of a previous incumbent.

And so we come to silence. Calculated and scored, like Cage’s work, or announced (maybe even justified?) “because we’re thinking about Psalm 46″. Silence may be golden, but it’s not useful.

Thinking just a little more about this, I’d love for us to revisit Exodus chapters 35 through 39. While the objects that were created were undoubtedly useful and justifiable, there seems to be an extraordinary amount of sheer art going on. God seems to have required it of his people, and encouraged them to employ the artists to create art, to train up younger artisans and generally beautify the whole place. What does this mean? Can God really value art for its own sake?

Then of course, there are those moments – highlights – high and holy moments, throughout the Bible where the presence of God is tangibly felt; in silence. Not Cage’s timed, framed silence, but the eternal silence of the ages, of true stillness.

Not useful, but golden nevertheless.



Milestones

1 Comment » Written on August 16th, 2012     
Filed under: Church Year, Leadership, Liturgy, Local Church

Today’s post is written by Jo Anne Taylor, Director of Music and Worship at Bethlehem Covenant Church in Minneapolis, MN.

This week marks the twenty-fifth time I have attended teacher workshops to begin a new school year. Over the years, I have worked hard to develop lessons and materials that would help my students learn important skills and concepts. Some lessons have been total failures, but many became part of my teaching repertoire, and I love coming back to those lessons each year. They are like old friends.

But this year, I’m starting over. I’m going back to the drawing board, and planning my year as if it were my very first. All my treasured, “favorite” lessons have been put away, and I’m looking forward to developing new learning experiences for my students.

This month marks my tenth anniversary as music director at Bethlehem Covenant Church. For ten years, I have worked hard to choose music that supports the proclamation of the Word. Our repertoire has grown to include a variety of musical styles, while reflecting the flow of liturgical seasons. We’ve marched through the Revised Common Lectionary three and a third times, and I know which anthems, hymns, and songs will fit which readings in that cycle. Coming back to them every three years is like visiting an old friend.

But this year, we are embarking on a new liturgical journey. To fulfill part of our Strategic Plan, the scriptural focus of our worship will be based on a new Narrative Lectionary, and I’m looking forward to adding to our repertoire songs and anthems that draw our congregation deeper into the story of God.

This year, this month, this week … they are milestones along the way, and also markers of new beginnings. What milestones are you celebrating in your ministry? Which treasured traditions are ready to be put aside – if only for a season – while you seek new ways to bring your congregation into fuller worship and deeper relationship with God? How is God calling you to grow?



What do you believe?

2 comments Written on July 20th, 2012     
Filed under: Better Together, Liturgy

Today’s post is written by Jo Anne Taylor, Director of Music and Worship at Bethlehem Covenant Church in Minneapolis, MN.

This week, thousands of high school students gathered for CHIC 2012. The theme was FIVE, and as the week progressed, the theme unfolded as five questions Jesus asked during his ministry. While CHIC attendees were considering the second of these questions, “Who do you say that I am?” the Better Together group was discussing a similar question: “How do we, as a ‘non-creedal’ denomination, use creeds in worship?” In other words, how do we say who Jesus is when we come together to worship our Lord?

Saying what we believe has been part of Christian worship for centuries, and the history of the Church is punctuated with heated arguments over what constitutes orthodox faith and what constitutes heresy. Two statements of faith that developed from these heated arguments are what we now call the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed. Some Covenant churches include these statements in regular worship (often as part of the Communion liturgy) and others rarely recite them. But they stand as reminders of what we say we believe, in unity with Christians throughout the world.

Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?”

Together, we respond, “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord …”

Saying who Jesus is means more than giving lip service to our Lord, however. It means living so that others see Christ in us. The Chorister’s Prayer comes to my mind as I think about how we can, as worship leaders, help our congregations continue to connect faith to practice on a daily basis:

Bless, O Lord, us Thy servants,
who minister in Thy temple.

Grant that what we sing with our lips,
we may believe in our hearts,

and what we believe in our hearts,
we may show forth in our lives.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

How do you use creeds in your church? Do you say the Apostles’  or Nicene Creed? Have you developed a practice that your congregation finds meaningful? How do you explain the Covenant’s “non-creedal” position and its embrace of these statements of faith? When those high school students come home from CHIC, how will you help them continue to answer Jesus?



Have a Grape

3 comments Written on May 18th, 2012     
Filed under: Better Together, Liturgy

Today’s post is written by Jo Anne Taylor, Director of Music and Worship at Bethlehem Covenant Church in Minneapolis, MN.

Each time we offer Holy Communion at our church, a third element joins the Bread and Cup at our Table: a plate of grapes. When a child comes forward who is not yet ready to receive the Bread and the Cup, the pastor offers a grape, as a reminder of the seed of faith that is growing in that child.

How is your seed of faith doing these days?
Is it growing in you?

Growth brings with it a lot of discomfort. Remember what it was like as a child to get ready for school each August? Remember how your shoes felt when you tried them on after a summer of running around barefoot? Tight, right? Kind of like new wine in old wineskins – ready to burst at the seams. Growing does that to you. It makes the old comfortable ways seem suddenly uncomfortable.

How is your growing faith making your life uncomfortable right now? And if you aren’t feeling some discomfort, how do you know you are growing?

This week, my husband marks a major milestone birthday. Next week, my son graduates from college. The week after that, I receive my Master of Divinity degree. Within a couple of weeks, three members of my family will have looked in the mirror and wondered, “How have I grown?” And immediately after that question comes an even bigger one: “What now?”

Growing into Christ-likeness is not easy. Growing as part of the Body of Christ can be downright uncomfortable. A friend of mine keeps a sign above her desk that reads, “Change is inevitable. Growth is optional.” When we opt for growth, we embrace the discomfort of moving into new territory. The question, “What now?” brings joyful anticipation instead of fear, for we know that the One who loved us enough to die for us is with us. Our growing faith is evidence of the Kingdom of God here and now, bringing us closer to the Kingdom of God that will be.

How’s your seed of faith doing these days? Is it growing in you? Can you embrace the discomfort that comes with growth? What do you see as evidence that God’s Kingdom is working in you and in your church right now?

Here, have a grape.



Paschal Greeting

1 Comment » Written on April 8th, 2012     
Filed under: Better Together, Church History, Church Year, Holy Week, Liturgy, Writing and blogging

Today’s post is written by Matt Nightingale, Director of Worship Ministries at Redeemer Covenant Church in Tulsa, OK.

It’s my turn to write the Better Together blog post. I didn’t get to it on Friday because I was neck-deep in Good Friday prep. So here I sit. It’s all over, this huge weekend we worship folks anticipate for months… What should I write about?

I could write about the camaraderie I experience as part of the Better Together group on Facebook. These busy seasons tend to draw us worship leaders even closer together as we navigate the highs and lows of ministry life. Continue Reading »



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