Last night the Chicago Emergent cohort, Up/Rooted, hosted a panel discussion on the topic "the emerging church critique of evangelicalism." On the panel were Scot McKnight, Wayne Johnson, and David Fitch. The entire evening's discussion should eventually be available as a podcast and I'm sure someone with more patience than I will post a nice summary somewhere. (update - sorry no forthcoming podcast, something about it not recording and there is a decent summary here) For now, I will point you to Dave Fitch's blog where he posted a few of the ideas he covered last night. Scot also hinted that he will be blogging about the ideas he presented as well. Needless to say it was a stimulating discussion that did a fairly decent job of summing up most of the emerging critiques of evangelicalism. But of course the conversation didn't stop there as the presenters worked in their critiques of emerging/emergent as well.

I heard a lot I liked last night, a number of things I disagreed with, and a few things I didn't understand. I of course didn't ask any questions there, because, well, I hate asking questions in that sort of setting. One can't engage in real dialogue and the question generally gets misunderstood anyway (as evidents by the "let's see who can ask the most convoluted and confused question" game the audience seemed to be playing last night). But given the joyous freedoms on the blogworld, I can post my thoughts, disagreements and questions here and, in good emerging/postmodern fashion, engage with dialogue with anyone who is so inclined. So I'll try to post my random thoughts on this panel discussion here over the next week or so. That said, let's jump right in and talk about...

Worship. In his initial presentation on the emerging critique of evangelicalism, Wayne Johnson focused on the aspect of worship. While he thought that the EC has done a good job in it's critique of consumer, seeker driven worship, he also pointed out a few weaknesses in the EC in regards to worship. In setting up his discussion on worship, he defined the concept of worship as "our response to God's revelation in the world" (not a direct quote, but close I think). I like that definition, but not his subsequent assertion that primary forms of worship should then be the Word and the Table. Sure those are important aspects of God's revelation, but the God I worship is a lot bigger than just those two things. But I digress... What I really had issue with in his talk was his critique of the emerging emphasis on authenticity.

I know that "authentic" has become a buzz word in the EC and I fully agree that that which is trendy often has no real substance or meaning. And I fully agree that to push one idea of what it means to be authentic (informal, organic...) onto a person who is not those things to begin with kinda misses the point of authenticity. I get that. But then Dr. Johnson claimed that to be authentic is to promote an individualism that hinders the communal act of the body of Christ entering into corporate worship. If we so fine-tune our services into that which is an "authentic" worship experience for us, we run the risk of heightening ethnic, cultural, and generational divisions. We care too much about ourselves and not enough for others.

Don't get me wrong, I am all for diverse churches and I think our self centered myopic worship wars have caused more harm than good in the church; but, I'm not ready to throw out the concept of "authentic." If authentic is defined as that which is "true, real, and genuine," would not the opposite be that which is "false or a lie"? In emerging critiques of evangelical worship (and in evangelical critiques of traditional worship for that matter) there has been a lot of talk about "just going through the motions." In other words, participating in a false and meaningless form of worship - lying to God. I don't think anyone wants to promote lying in one's response to God as a good thing, but the question arises of if lying to God is justified if it helps build community. Is it okay to be inauthentic and false in how one responds to God if it helps build up a diverse body of Christ?

I honestly have no idea if that is at all what Dr. Johnson was intending with his thoughts, but it is what immediately popped into my mind. Does serving others involve making weighted moral choices like that or am I way off base here? Maybe I'm just too seeped in the evangelical definition of sin as personal choice as opposed to a wider more emerging view that involves the community as a whole. Maybe I just really have an issue with the whole concept of the submission of my will to that of other people. But I can't bring myself to say that it is okay to engage in false acts of worship solely for the good of the community. I see no problem with remaining silent and not making a scene about it if one can't participate, but I can't justify engaging. But maybe that's just me. What are your thoughts? What's your take on this whole issue of authenticity and worship?

Labels: Emerging Church, Worship

Kneeling
by R. S. Thomas

Moments of great calm,
Kneeling before an altar
Of wood in a stone church
In summer, waiting for the God
To speak; the air a staircase
For silence; the sun’s light
Ringing me, as though I acted
A great rôle. And the audiences
Still; all that close throng
Of spirits waiting, as I,
For the message.
Prompt me, God;
But not yet. When I speak,
Though it be you who speak
Through me, something is lost.
The meaning is in the waiting.


In reflecting on prayer recently I have been drawn to this poem. Prayer in my life at the moment is something that is in many ways undefined. I pray, but often in ways that seem contrived or hollow. It is when I sit in those moments of silence that my communion with God seems most authentic.

To hear from God and to be inspired to speak words of truth and encouragement from God is often something I rush into. My ideas stumble over each other in the burning passion to have something to say. I might throw in a perfunctory prayer - a ritual to be performed - out of obligation rather than intentional worship. Real prayer, real communion, goes much deeper than that and is full of silence.

Silence is nebulous. It is uncomfortable. It can't be quantified. I can't check off that I spent x number of minutes for my "Quiet Time" and prayer. I can't go through the mental checklist of praying the ACTS (or CATS) acronym. It was easier when I could, but it still felt hollow.

So I'm learning to accept silence. I don't understand it. I don't "do it" well. But I have learned that there is meaning in the waiting. And so I wait in silence.


For other contributions to this synchroblog on prayer check out Lyn or Erin's blogs.

Update - here's the list of participants.

Cindy Bryan Teach Me to Pray…Again?
Lyn Hallewell God, Prayer and Me
Erin Word Prayer=Sex with God
Rick Meigs Prayer Helps that Get Me Deeper
Alan Knox Pray without Ceasing
Julie Clawson Prayer Synchroblog
Heather Synchroblog Prayer
Alex (Heather’s Husband) Prayer Synchroblog II
Lydia How Do You Pray
Che Vachon My Thoughts…
Paul Mayers Praying and Learning to Pray Again
Sonja Andrews The Appearance of Holiness
Jon Peres How Do I Pray?
Paul Walker One Congregation Experiments with Emerging Prayer
Susan Barnes Synchroblog: How Do You Pray?
Brother Maynard Fear Not the Silence
Nate Peres How Do I Pray?
Barry Taylor Synchroblog:How Do You Pray?
Emerging Grace Clearance Sale on Intercession Books
Jim Lehmer Synchroblog - How Do You Pray?
Lew A How Do You Pray? - Synchroblog
Jon Hallewell When I’m Spoken To
Deb Prayer Synchroblog
Barb Prayer without Throwing Things
Patti Blount How Do I Pray
Doug Jones How I Pray
Glenn Hagar Prayer Phases
Pam Hogeweide The Art of Blue Tape Spirituality
Mary How Do I Pray?
Rhonda Mitchell Prayer SynchroBlog
John Smulo Praying Naturally
Rachel Warwick How Do You Pray?
Barbara Legere How to Not Pray
Jonathan Brink Posture - Sitting With My Daddy
Andy How Do I Pray
Cynthia Clack How Do I Pray
Makeesha Fisher The Mystery of Prayer

Labels: Reflections, Synchroblog, Worship

To address a question from one of the comments below. Is the emerging church just a generational thing? Is it just something for young people?

When the first stirrings of what has turned into the emerging church began, it was just about generational ministry. It was obvious that the church was missing an entire generation (which implied that the next generation would be missing as well). So people began to ask why Gen Xers had left the church and what it would take to bring them back. As usually occurs with such strategic plans, the initial answers were surfacy. Change the style of church to be relevant to that demographic. So churches abandoned the choirs and organs of the grandparents, the praise bands of the boomers, and went alternative. They added coffee and candles, brought art back into the church, and re-introduced liturgy to the low church. It helped bring some Xers back in, and really pissed off a lot of Boomers and older folks that church wasn't being done the way they liked anymore. Since when church becomes all about what one particular demographic likes it becomes about consuming a commodity and not about being the body of Christ. So went the ongoing worship wars that divided churches into generational clubs based on personal "worship" preferences. It wasn't intergenerational. It was selfish. And yes some "emerging churches" stayed in this realm and are just about relevant worship. Others perhaps get labeled that, but are really much much more.

But some of the initial voices in the EC soon realized that there was a greater cultural shift occurring in our culture. People were moving from the dominant philosophy of modernism to the dominant philosophy of postmodernism. It wasn't about choosing the believe in such a thing, it was the general air that we were breathing - the culture that shaped who we were. Granted, higher percentages of younger people were more immersed in postmodern thought than older people, but it was a culturally pervasive thing. That made a lot of people think about how our assumptions about how we do church were influenced by our cultural philosophy. And then even to think about how our theologies were influenced by such philosophies. So yes, church eccessiology started to be questioned. The habits and trappings of church were questioned. And many began to take a historical perspective on the interpretation of scripture and examine how culture has influenced how we read the bible. Things started to change and it involved people of all generations.

So for example, in our small church plant we have representatives from 8 different decades (and aren't too heavy on the under 35 group either). Church isn't about reaching a certain demographic, but we still do things differently than many churches. We "worship" with hymns, praise choruses, art, dance, liturgy, lectio divina, walking labyrinths, and prayers of saints ancient and modern. We understand that the sermon is the least effective form of teaching. So we open the teaching time up to discussion. People ask questions, challenge interpretations, and contribute examples. So instead of the pastor contriving examples that generally work for middle age men (golf, sports, retirement plans...), the church becomes involved in understanding how the scriptures fit into their lives. "Elders" and intergenerational learning isn't contrived or hierarchical, but just part of what it means to all interact together and be a church family. Of course its not perfect and really freaks some people out. Some show up expecting to just sit, watch a show, and "be fed." We don't think that is what church is about at all. And apparently people of all ages seem to think similarly.

So yes, there are emerging churches that consist of college students being college students. Just like there are seeker sensitive churches full of Boomers and traditional churches full of the elderly. Then there are churches with people of all ages that look new and different. There are traditional mainline churches that are embracing emerging theology and worship ideas. For many it is about new way of doing church, exploring theology from a broader perspective, and being the church as opposed to having church imposed upon oneself. And it involves people of all ages. I would recommend that the stereotype of the EC being just for gen Xers be dropped, and people take the time to see what is occurring within this very diverse movement.

Labels: Church, Emerging Church, Worship

During the Midwest Emergent Gathering, I got to attend most of Lilly Lewin's workshop on creative worship. I am fascinated by what she does and how she uses art to help people connect with God. I wish more churches could learn from her and incorporate experiential worship into their services. We learn more and make deeper connections when we are engaged in experiences that engage our whole self instead of just passively sitting and listening to a person preach. And she helps people enter into experiences where that can happen.

All that said, as she spoke I found myself torn between conflicting ideals. One of the most common elements of experiential worship is that of giving a person a physical object to touch that relates to whatever the point of the lesson is. So as Lilly suggested, let people eat Swedish fish or goldfish as you talk about Jesus providing the disciples with fish. Or hand out cotton balls or foam cut outs - whatever can be tied into helping people remember what they are hearing. It works - it generally works quite well. The physical objects drives the abstract thought home and serves to help a person remember what they have heard. Of course that isn't the only (or best) form experiential worship takes, but it is an easily employed technique. What bothered me was how it seemed at odds with simple living.

I guess what I am wondering is if one is striving to live simply and ethically (i.e. not over consume, respect the environment, buy fairly traded items) would being able to better understand and remember a concept be a sufficient enough excuse to collect piles of junk. As Lilly mentioned (and as a former children's pastor I can attest) all those little take aways collect on your desk, the bottom of your purse, or in the back of some drawer. Lilly saw that as a collection of good memories and meaningful lessons, but try as I might I have a hard time seeing them as anything other than clutter and junk. I don't want my life filled with items made from petroleum products in a sweatshop in China that take up space and increase chaos (I have way too much of that already). I don't think that I can see something like that as an aid to worship.

But then the question gets raised - where do I draw the line? So perhaps a little plastic cross is unnecessary, but what about a stained glass window, or a cloistered garden, or an art installation? I take pleasure in such things and often see them as an aid to worship. Or what about having children making bricks as they learn about the slaves in Egypt or building a manger for a Christmas play? What about the Christmas tree itself? What is really necessary? What can be justified? Should it have to be justified?

I have never considered myself an iconoclast. I have no problem with the idea of letting art and beauty move us into worship. But I am beginning to feel uneasy with the consumeristic nature behind such things. I guess I am seeking a balance for myself here. I am not ready to throw out art or other aids to worship in favor of barren striped down intellectual encounters with God, but I am seeking a form of justification. I love music and art (and most other new forms of experiential worship), but I am struggling with supporting the expense (in the broad term). Is there a way to enjoy and employ such things justly? I know this issue has been a constant struggle for the church as a whole, for while some found the great cathedrals to lift them into rhapsodies of worship, others saw the golden trappings next to the starving masses and walked away from the faith. Is it all worth it? Can it be justified? And where is the balance?

I have no answers. I am just beginning to ask the questions. Have others struggled with this? What have you learned in that struggle?

Labels: Emerging Church, Worship

As I continue to ponder the idea of sacred places and a longing for home, I keep coming back to the Celtic idea of "thin places." CAOL AIT - spots in the world where the physical world and the spiritual world come close, the barrier between them is thin. This idea often refers to holy sites, but also refers to in-between places and times (dawn, dusk, forest edges, the seashore). Apparently in these landscapes that are not quite one thing or another the spirit world has an easier time breaking through. As much as I find the concept of thin places appealing, I'm not entirely sure what I really think.

I remember hearing a very evangelical pastor say in a sermon once that dusk was useless. At dusk one has neither the light of day or the darkness of night, so its obviously useless. My reaction to his words was to invoke the Celtic ideas of thin places - dusk is an in-between time, the time when the fey and fairies enter our world, a time when magic can happen! Not that I necessarily believe in faeries, just in the beauty of the concept. I like the idea of there being specific places or times where one finds it easier to connect with spiritual things, but I also have some theological issues with it.

If I don't believe in a gnostic dualism that separates the physical and the spiritual and I think that God is present everywhere, how can there exist "thin places"? Would not all places and all times be equally as conducive to spiritual experiences? That is what I've always been taught - one can pray whenever and wherever. Pray in the car, pray while you run. One can even apparently find God in a state of the art, aesthetically empty, contemporary church. God truly is everywhere. But even with that theologically concept firmly in my mind, I still see evidence of "thin places."

Certain circumstances and specific places are known to help people connect with God. Is it all just psychological, and if so what does it really matter? If escaping from the ordinary to a special place helps one put aside the clutter in one's mind that crowds out God, then yes, God is more accessible in that place. If a person feels more at home - more at peace- in a certain physical location, then yes, they will mostly likely be able to experience God there. So is it just the results of our collective unconscious or consensual imagination that have us all naming the same places as functional "thin places" for us all? Is that how sacred places are formed?

I know I'm just thinking aloud here. And that these are only lighthearted musings in my attempts to reconcile my theology with my romanticism. But there is too much truth in both approaches for this to be a clear either/or. I see this in the resurgence of contemplative practices and experiential worship practiced in many emerging churches. The answers are more complex than many of us protestants were taught to believe. So I will continue to ponder and occasionally think aloud.

Labels: Emerging Church, Reflections, Theology, Worship

So I started reading the newest book in Thomas Cahill's Hinges of History series - Mysteries of the Middle Ages - The Rise of Feminism, Science, and Art from the Cults of Catholic Europe. I love his books. I fully realize that he writes pop history and I'm usually itching for more extensive footnotes when I read him, but I enjoy it nonetheless. Reading Cahill is a good reminder that all history is interpretation (as is all theology, but we've been there on this blog already...). Half the time I'm just envious of his vocabulary and command of language.

His book are full of fun little details, sidenotes, and commentary about history. Like the origin of the term "bugger" or commenting how the lack of a sound system or buildings with decent acoustics prevented women and non-alpha males from regularly addressing large groups of people in the ancient world - it just wasn't physically possible. Anyway, I thought I'd blog on some of the details I found most interesting.

Cahill includes the following verses from the late Medieval Christmas Carol "My Dancing Day" (read the full song here) -

Tomorrow shall be my dancing day;
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to my dance;

Chorus
Sing, oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love!

In a manger laid, and wrapped I was
So very poor, this was my chance
Betwixt an ox and a silly poor ass
To call my true love to my dance. Chorus

Then up to heaven I did ascend,
Where now I dwell in sure substance
On the right hand of God, that man
May come unto the general dance. Chorus

Of course I liked the imagery of the dance, but reading the song and its history amused me by its similarity to today's praise songs. "My Dancing Day" was sung as part of the mystery plays - dramas that told (interpreted, elaborated, and contextualized) bible stories to the common folks. And the chorus is from a secular love song which probably because of its popularity was "baptized" and conjoined with the Christmas story. So here we have a version of the "Jesus is my boyfriend" songs from the late Middle Ages - popular because its familiar tune and down-to-earth images the common folks could understand. A song that celebrates the incarnation and its implications for our lives. So for the number of times I've heard complaints about praise and worship music (or done the complaining myself) it is interesting to think about what the implications for incarnation are for those songs. How do they connect people with out world or teach us how to be the incarnation of love? Do they invite us to join the dance no matter how simple their lyrics? Do songs have to be theological masterpieces to be meaningful or useful?

Just some thoughts and fun reflections sparked by history...

Labels: Book Reviews, Worship

So I’ve been thinking about worship as a communal act. In scripture we are told that true worship involves loosing the chains of injustice, setting the oppressed free, to feed the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless (Isaiah 58). All of those things are done in community. But in our churches we are so focused on worship as singing that it has come to be an individual act. Yes singing to God is a form of worship, but perhaps we go to far when we make the worship time just about us personally connecting to God.

What got me thinking about this was what happened at church this past Sunday. There was the regular worship song selections led by the band and pretty much only by the band since the powerpoint was off the whole morning. We had a great sermon about the life Christ has called us to, but what stood out was what occurred after the regular church service ended. After most people had left, the band started jamming and ended up playing a great rendition of Sweet Home Alabama. It was obvious that the people in the band were enjoying themselves as were those of us just standing around. We were clapping and dancing and cheering them on. There was an energy in the room as we all experienced something that we all really enjoyed. We were a community at that moment – participating in a mutual experience and enjoying it for what it was.

I’ve felt that same energy a few other times before. Strangely enough it has been among groups of strangers. I felt it at the Bristol Renaissance Faire when at the close of the day the crowds gatherer into the drum circle and dance to the beat of the drums. It is a wild, tribal, pagany gathering – buts it’s alive and full of energy as we dance as one entity full of the joie de vivre. Similarly I’ve felt that same energy in a crowd of 5000 at the National Youthworkers Convention as caught up in singing with the David Crowder Band the joy overflowed into dancing.

Some may say it’s a mob mentality – a large group of people being swept up into some communal mind. It happens at concerts all the time. But I think there is something deeper there as people are moved to express the energy and joy that is welling up inside of them alongside others. It is community experiencing joy together and having no choice but to let it loose. Too often we fear what others think instead of encouraging them to give into the joy that God fills us with. To me that is worship. To share joy with others. Be that through energetic displays of passion or through helping those who need help. Something big and wondrous can happen when we join others in worship – when it moves past just us and involves all of God’s children.

Labels: Reflections, Worship