Liturgy or no liturgy?

Credo; Sergei Rachmaninoff, Krzysztof Penderecki, Igor Stravinsky, Sir Andrzej Panufnik, composers; Choir of King's College, Cambridge; Stephen Cleobury

When I took up with Presbyterians in 2004, I did so with a leap of faith. I had seldom worshipped the living God without the security of a liturgy. For almost forty years, I walked the weekly Lutheran garden path of careful praise, sensible adoration and abstemious reverence, imparting the all too familiar nod to the Kyrie, Sanctus and Gradual stones that lined the trail.

Although, I must confess that, during the last few months leading up to my new commission at Wallace Presbyterian Church, my mind wandered easily as I sang the same music, muttered the routine prayer response – even concentrated on concentrating during the Lord’s Prayer so that I could mean what I was saying … praying. It got to the point where I frequently thought to myself, Does church need to be this difficult? Is it this exhausting for everybody else? Are the believers that surround me truly honoring God the way that they think they are, or are they merely taking another rough and tumble through the habitual Sunday morning routine that follows toast and juice?

At the bottom of my leap of faith was a refreshing pool of candor in worship and revitalization of my exercise in praise and devotion to God. Last week, we called for worship with a Psalm and confessed our sins corporately. This week, Isaiah gave us reason to convene and we disclosed our transgressions in silence. What will happen next week? I don’t know. But I haven’t catnapped in a liturgy-induced Christian coma for quite a while.

King’s College Choir in Cambridge, England, in their CD titled “Credo”, presents a power-house eclectic Eastern European “Dream Team” liturgy experience. Bookending the virtual church worship ceremony with selections from Sergei Rachmaninoff’s “Vespers” and the “Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom”, director Stephen Cleobury chose plainchant to separate Krzysztof Penderecki’s “Cherubic Hymn” and “Agnus Dei”, Igor Stravinsky’s “Ave Marie” and “Credo” and Sir Andrzej Panufnik’s “Song to the Virgin Mary”. I can hear, in these pieces, the reverence that each of these composers hold for their God. But the music isn’t always for everyone. Sometimes one man’s praise is another man’s misery.

I know better than to completely buck the Lutheran liturgy. Although there is only one true God, there are various ways to praise Him. C.S. Lewis wrote in favor of a liturgy-laced service, claiming that worshippers

go to use the service, or if you prefer, to enact it. Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament, or repent, or supplicate, or adore. And it enables us to do these thing best – if you like, it “works” best – when, through familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don’t notice. Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling. The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God.

After an absence of six years from regular Lutheran Sunday morning services, I find that I can, indeed, concentrate better during the occasional visit to a Lutheran church. The hum-drumness has evaporated and certain words and phrases, that formerly slid out of the corners of my mouth without meaning, are sharp, two-edged sword words that now find clarity outside my refreshing pool of candor and revitalization.

Credits: To Clive Staples Lewis, for writing a treatise for the ages on the concept of Christianity and calling it “Mere”. Thank you for “Narnia”. What a magical place!