Liturgical Life is NOT an Intellectual Exercise
Merry Christmas (almost)!
We are less than a week away from that holy night; the night of stars, long journeys, and a crying infant. Seriously, we are less than a week away from the birth of Christ! OK, maybe that happened a little over 2,000 years ago now, but it’s still exciting isn’t it? It’s the birthday party of all birthday parties. It’s the celebration of the year, each and every year. The question is: Is that enough?
You see, each year in the life of the church, we follow the liturgical calendar. Each and every year, we celebrate the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, highlighting the major events: birth, Baptism, calling disciples, miracles, Last Supper, arrest, Crucifixion, Resurrection, and Ascension. We go even further and celebrate the birth of the church and the coming of the Holy Spirit.
Liturgically, each and every year, we act out the Christian drama. Why? Well, we hope to learn something from it. We hope to glean some sort of wisdom, perhaps even some faith, from the stories. We seek to feel some of the emotions that the characters must have felt. And, too often, that is the extent of our interest. We go through the motions, year after year, replaying a story that happened long before Pisgah existed (did we know that there was anything before Pisgah?), but never actually living the story. Liturgical life is not an intellectual exercise.
On Sunday, I preached about peace and power, being invariably connected. At the end of the sermon, I invited encouraged challenged each of you to not just witness the peaceful power in the manger, but to open yourselves to let it in, that you might show it to others. I said that Christian Peace is: Accepting true power, and speaking truth to lesser power.
On Saturday evening, we will gather for our Christmas Eve services (Shameless plug: 5:30- Families and Candlelight; 11:00- Communion and Candlelight), and we will liturgically go to the manger. Is that all? Is it just pretend? Is it really just a birthday celebration that is over 2,000 year old? I think there’s more…
Liturgical life is not an intellectual exercise. For Christians, liturgical life IS life. It permeates our very being. During Christmas, we celebrate holy birth in our lives, we prepare for the coming of the king, the everlasting God, the wonderful counselor, and yes, the Prince of Peace.
Again, a blog is supposed to insight comments, so, consider this:
- How does liturgical life inform your day to day existence? If the answer is, “It doesn’t”, how might you change that starting this week?
- Look at the definition I asserted for Christian Peace (Accepting true power, and speaking truth to lesser power). Does that work with your understanding? Those there for the sermon Sunday might have some commentary:)
- What do you seek at the manger this year?
Go to the manger this year, not as an intellectual exercise, and not to gain some piece of wisdom, but go to worship and come away changed.
Merry Christmas!
As Bobbi points out, the birthday party approach to children’s initiation is controversial, but I embraced it when my girls were toddlers/pre-school. Every Christmas Eve, we invited family in for a Birthday Party for Jesus and went through the story of the nativity. We looked at a nativity set and all its pieces as we told the story, which I like to think helped with the story. We sang “Happy Birthday, Dear Jesus” at the tops of our lungs, looking heavenward when we hit the “Dear Jesus” part. This is a surface response to the questions, however.
I’m the most caught up in, “How does liturgical life inform your day to day existence?” Specific to this time of the liturgical year and looking forward to what will be read this weekend, I think of how the most precious gifts of biblical time were apparently frankincense, gold and myrrh. Gold may still be considered a precious gift, depending on how friendly the markets are on a given day. (smile). What, though, would be modern-day frankincense and myrrh? Money/tithing might be one. So might be a vested interest, engagement and commitment to programs sponsored by M&E (time). I’m struck by how much time has become a commodity, of how precious it is.
Thought of something else. When rising to the challenge to “not just witness the peaceful power in the manger, but to open yourselves to let it in, that you might show it to others,” I think of a man I saw earlier this fall at the corner of South Limestone, in front of UK Albert B. Chandler Hospital. He was offering copies of The New Testament to anyone who cared to accept one. I did not; I have multiple copies, which is an acceptable reason to decline the offer. Something about my observing him having no takers has left me sad in a way that I have not shaken, even though others, too, might have had equally good reasons not to accept. Still, there’s something haunting about the inability to even give away The New Testament.
Ahhh…the things we could accomplish if we had the time! It’s certainly the case for me: time is the rarest of commodities! Good point, Susan.
Christmas Eve 1977 found us and our 3 year old daughter at the 1st Presbyterian Church of Wheaton, IL. My parents were our guests. We expected a holy night of music, candle light and worship…when suddenly the youth group came bounding up the main sisle with ballons labeled “Happy Birthday Jesus”, singing Happy Birthday at the top of their voices. The new, young, female west coast associate pastor brought up the rear, holding high her own infant. The service continued as a birthday party with games and cake for the youth group. As a conservative Presbyterian new parent trying to impress my own parents, and my former Catholic husband, I was mortified. Embarrased. Disappointed. I felt that the birthday party was a mock on the simple, yet majestic birth of Christ in a manger.
Of course, I wrote a letter to our pastor, stating my “disaproval” and asking if we were in the wrong place? Reverend Paul Stravakos immediately called on me in response and suddenly I found myself involved & getting to know and love the new associate pastor! When I was a deacon, she was our moderator. She counseled me thru a childhood friend’s suicide at 35. She initiated the Stevens Ministry training at our church. She guided me as the youngest member on the nominating committee. When we moved far out to the countryside in Wayne, Reverend Cindy Simmons and several other elders came to our new home for lunch. They toured our home and we all stood, holding hands in the master bathroom where Cindy gave a blessing for our home and family…and it didn’t bother me that the prayer was in the bathroom and not another room!
I will not have ballons, but I do rejoice anew over baby Jesus’ birthday!