A Contrast

The 2009 Lutheran Church Extension Fund calendars have arrived, and they are titled "Seasons of Life," which always makes me think of the song from the musical Rent "Seasons of Love"; at which point I start singing that song. This is not the most annoying part.

I glanced through the calendar today, as I am always curious to see if there is anybody I know in the pictures (there is). The picture for July was more vexing than the line "How do you measure a year?" running incessantly through my brain.

I know the picture comes from one of the National Youth Gatherings;and to put the best construction on things, maybe the photo was taken at a Lost and Found mini-concert where they were singing "His Banner Over Me is Love" complete with motions. In which case, why are there only two or three people doing the motions? And what is up with the guy in the background with the oddly peaceful look? It didn't help that the Bible verse to go with it is I Timothy 4:12: "Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity." I'm not sure this is what Paul had in mind. . .

Ironically, the latest issue of Higher Things magazine came in the mail today. I read through it, seeing all the people I know or sort of know or wish I could know and what they wrote. In it there was no dumbing it down for the kids. Was there fun? Absolutely (just read the masthead)! Was there content? Of course! There were articles about parables, how to keep one's faith strong, tips for how to defend the Real Presence in the sacrament, what mission work is, and how to listen to a sermon. I learned something while reading, and I'm not even the target audience for the magazine.

Let me pose this elongated question: If Pastor Preus says (and I paraphrase as best as I can), "At Higher Things we work when we work, we play when we play, and we worship when we worship," then what are the people doing in the picture--working, playing, or worshipping--and what does that say for the contrast between the two gatherings?

Maybe those who dare to be Lutheran don't know how to have fun; but judging from Pastor Borghardt, I think we have a pretty good grasp of fun.

Old School

The church at which I am playing tomorrow still uses The Lutheran Hymnal (TLH). My home church, by which I mean the congregation of my childhood and youth, also uses TLH. I have a feeling neither of them will switch anytime soon or even not-so-soon. That does not matter, however.
There’s been much talk of one’s grandfather’s church. I admit that the Missouri Synod of today does not look like the Missouri Synod of my grandfather’s day; then again, neither does the world of today look like the world of my grandfather’s day. What then? Should we make the church of today look like the world of today? Well, did the church of my grandfather’s day look like the world of my grandfather’s day? I can’t say positively, as I was not alive then; nor is my grandfather alive now to ask, but I’m guessing the answer is no.
My grandfather fits into “The Greatest Generation”, while I am a Gen Xer. The Gospel is still the Gospel for me as it was for him as it was for the disciples. Do times change? Sure. Does worship change? Sure. Do we have to throw everything from the past out? Sure—uh—wait—no, we don’t.
The disciples did not throw out the practices of their fathers, Luther did not throw out the practices of his father, nor should we toss out the liturgy. Here’s the rub: too many people (especially the Baby Boomers, sorry guys) are too eager to either hang on to tightly or toss. I think it’s a throw-back from the sixties (again, I was not alive then, so I can’t positively say). In the sixties it seemed to be either “question authority” or its antithesis. Carry that forward to the church.
History without understanding is as ignorant as no history at all. Worship practices without understanding is similar. When I was a youth and there was no Higher Things to set me straight, I thought that the church WAS my grandfather’s church and not for me; therefore, it should be scrapped. Bring on the drums, the guitars, the praise choruses, get some verve and vigor in the door. I didn’t understand the liturgy, even if I had had it memorized since I was five or six.
Today I hope I know better. I have more understanding about liturgy and worship. I can recognize the difference between Christocentric and egocentric texts. I vaguely comprehend the lack when it comes to the theology of glory. I’m not saying I’m a know-it-all (although others might assert that, but that’s another story). I guess all I’m saying is that to be pointlessly stuck in the past is little better than being pointlessly stuck in a place that’s “relevant”.
God’s Word is always relevant. Worship is always relevant. It is the reason we practice what we practice that is the issue. If we don’t know why we do what we do, we run the risk of being stuck somewhere we don’t want to or should not be. This is why some congregations are opening themselves up to any whim of worship to coerce people in the door. This is also why there are some congregations who “have always done it that way” and always will. Even Shirley Jackson warned us against this in her story “The Lottery.” We need to move beyond the rock throwing.
Consider Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof. He knew when to hold to tradition and when to budge. It was adiaphora to allow his daughter to circumvent the matchmaker. It was not when his middle daughter married outside the faith. I know I sound as though I sit solidly on the fence. Let me assure you: I know on which side I am. Christ crucified is what I confess; the doctrine of the church is to what I subscribe; the liturgy as it has been handed down to us from our forebears is what I practice. I am trying to say in a prolonged, sort of way (which will probably get misinterpreted because I’m not as pithy or witty as some) that there are some churches who want nothing more than to claim to be on the conservative/confessional bandwagon, when really they merely like their old hymnals just fine, thank you. It’s not the same. Even McDonalds adjusts to the time without compromising their heritage. Just teach your people the truth.

Sunday Singing

It frequently happens that when I visit a congregation that is not my own on a Sunday morning; I get complimented (or commented) on my singing. Sometimes it comes in the form of the child in front of me who covers the ears and looking in my direction wears a scandalized grimace. So if I happen to show up at your church on Sunday; no, I don’t want to join your choir; yes, I sang in choir at a Concordia.
The reason for my volume and verve is simple: I’ve been conditioned.
I grew up in a congregation where, conflicted though they were, they sang. It was a hotbed of Garrison Keillor material (both good and bad). The organ was pipe—it was an old movie-theater organ—and it was sometimes hard to hear because of the strong singing around me. I merely matched volume and have not come down since.
I realize that not everyone has been, um, trained as I was. No, not voice lessons (although I did have a few years of such); a home congregation that sang.
Since leaving for college I have visited a plethora of churches around the country. Some sing, some don’t. The church we were at north of Spamtown did not sing. You think it is hard finding your place coming back from communion? Think of the poor organist who loses count and can hear only a faint mumble coming from below. Fortunately, I was tipped off—listen for the strongest sound in the English language: /s/. Works every time.
The place we’re at now? They also don’t sing. Of course, this is the place where, back in the late ‘90s we visited and the person in the pew ahead of us was apparently disgusted with the Hymnal Supplement ’98 and brusquely flung it down on the pew.
I don’t know if it is because people just don’t communally sing as they used to. We still get weird looks at the Muny when we sing along with the orchestra when they play "The Star Spangled Banner" before every show. Maybe it is something else. I don’t know.
The point is not to rail on anyone or build myself up. What I’m trying to say is that it is not the style but the delivery which is part of the problem with Sunday morning music. Doing a remix of a modern pop song with Christian lyrics is not a solution. Okay, so it worked for Whoopie in Sister Act, but that’s Hollywood. One thing to do is educate—why do we sing Psalms, hymns, and liturgy? What makes a hymn a “good” hymn? Some of this stuff I didn’t learn until I was past 18. Why didn’t someone tell me sooner?
Another thing to do is do what you do well. Don’t sing like Jesus stayed dead. Encourage your organists/pianists/accompanists to continue learning how to play the hymns well. So what if you’ve heard the same song as a postlude for three months, as long as the hymns are played well? Better yet, encourage your organists/pianists/accompanists. They have a job that’s pretty difficult, especially when many churches have musicians who are volunteers or not trained as church musicians, per se. They need to be thanked.
Encourage a youth to take up organ or piano and to train as a church musician. Send your youth to a Higher Things conference or worship conference to learn more. Send your church organist and interested congregation members to a worship conference, a church music conference, a workshop—there are tons of resources out there.
As for me, I plan to keep learning, singing, and making use of teachable moments whenever I can. And you’ll know when I show up at your church—I’ll be the one singing loudly—I hope your congregation drowns me out. . .

Texas Youth

I was going to post something else here, but I'll get to it later, I guess. I saw this post which bothered me. What are they thinking? I suspect this is what they're thinking: "Let's push the envelope and wait for people so say something so that we can tell them how ignorant and unloving they are; and if they say nothing than take their silence to mean that everyone's okay with it, and keep in the same direction."

It's the whole emperor's new clothes concept. Everyone is loathe to say anything lest the be deemed stupid. We need a few more perceptive children to call the thing what it is, which in this case is plain WRONG.

I saw a bumper sticker the other day which said, "Somewhere in Texas a village is missing its idiot." Maybe there's something about Texas we don't know. . .

Worship, HT Style

One conference down, two days of the second conference down, and two days left of this one plus one more conference to go.

I was invited by some Higher Things bigwigs (I mean that in the nicest way, guys) to stop by for worship, since there was a chair or two available. I enjoyed the HT conferences back in the day when we used to be chaperones. I felt as though I learned just as much as the high schoolers.

I stopped by for two worship services, Evening Prayer and Morning Prayer. It is amazing to hear hundreds of Lutheran high schoolers singing the liturgy. Those who truly believe that kids can't do the liturgy should stop in sometime and see how wrong they are. It was a glorious sound of singing the hymns and chanting the Psalm and praying the liturgy. It is truly beyond description.

I could go off on my soap box here, but why ruin the moment. Let's just suffice it to say two things. 1)Kids--teens-tweens-et al--can do whatever they are expected to do. Why not hold them to a significant standard? 2)For all the HT naysayers, may I point out that the students who went to HT conferences were more regular in their own worship attendance and more involved in the life of the church than many of the adults?