It’s what we have experienced for several years now. No geckos chirping around our rented condo. Only a few sparrows begging for food at the lanai. That means no bugs. That means lots of pesticide spraying. Hawaii is in the tropics, and that means bugs, especially BIG cockroaches. But tourists don’t like bugs in their rented condos, especially BIG cockroaches, so that means lots of pesticide spraying, and that means no geckos and no birds except a few begging sparrows. It’s too bad. The beauty of these manicured grounds seem the worse for it. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t much like cockroaches no matter what size they come in. But I do like the diversity of nature that depends on a few bugs here and there to get things going. And, I greatly appreciate that one of our favorite hiking trails now has an abundance of signs asking people to stay on the trail in order not to disturb the native ground nesting birds; that invasive species of shrubbery have been taken out to make room for native plants; that a popular trail trespassing on sacred ground has been taken off the trail maps. It’s called stewardship.
Month: February 2010
Liturgy as Theater
I treasure our Anglican liturgy as expressed in the Episcopal Church, and I’ve rejoiced in other liturgies in Lutheran and Roman Catholic churches as well. I realize it’s not for everyone, but I find liturgy done well to be a sure and certain pathway to worship in all its complex meanings. That’s one reason why I am so disappointed when liturgy is not done well. It is not a matter of the candles being lit or the proper vestments worn. It has much more to do with liturgical leaders, clergy and lay, engaging in it with care, dignity and reverence.
Right away I know I’m in trouble because care, dignity and reverence conjure up images of stuffy, rigid, do it right or don’t do it at all, liturgical snobs and autocrats. That’s not what I mean. Liturgy done with care is liturgy that is not taken for granted. It is liturgy treated as if it was being performed in God’s presence for God’s joyful pleasure because it is. Obvious joy is a part of liturgy done with care. Liturgy done with dignity is liturgy that recognizes that you don’t just drag in any old performance to lay before God. This is time for the best that we can bring out. Whether paper plates or fine china, it must be our best. Liturgy done reverence is liturgy that honors all who are present in the pews, choir, at the pulpit, around the altar, God above all, and those who are not present for whatever reason.
Perhaps that sounds a bit theatrical, and it is. Liturgy is a form of theater in the sense that it is a performance before the congregation, and with the congregation before God almighty. Think of it as a long running hit play on Broadway. How would you like to go for a performance where the actors performed with an air of boredom, going through the script by rote in monotone disinterestedness supported by a chorus that appeared to be searching for the right play to be in? To put another turn to it, I like to think of liturgy done well as a friendly, relaxed dress rehearsal (if there is such a thing) than an opening night. A friendly, relaxed dress rehearsal is full of anticipatory joy, and so should liturgical worship. It assumes and trusts that everyone knows what to do and is eager to do it well. If a little something goes wrong or someone forgets a line, there is no shame in making adjustments on the run or even stopping to get a better start. And when the same liturgy is used to lead worship a few days later, it should be as if for the first time ever.
And that’s not all I have to say about that, but it’s all for now.
Thinking Mindlessly
I’m on Maui trying to have coherent thoughts about theology, economics or politics but so far all I’m coming up with is sushi, whale watching and snorkeling. However, I did bring along my ancient copy of The Nature and Destiny of Man that I last read in 1993 and intend to do so again over the next couple of weeks. We’ve been coming to these islands for almost thirty years and, for me, it is my spiritual retreat, my place of restoration. So maybe I’ll write about that. Or maybe I’ll write about my favorite church here, Holy Innocents in Lahaina. Not many years ago it was a struggling congregation limping along from one temporary clergy to another. Today it is a vibrant, spirit filled and growing congregation. The story of how that came to be is worth telling. Or perhaps I’ll write about how I came to love a place and culture not my own and with which I can claim no kinship. We shall see.