learning from one another

Liturgically and musically, I am more at home with our parish's traditional service than with "the 8:45" (see the previous post for definition). It involves choir and organ, which is what I do. I took it personally when the committee which designed 8:45 repeatedly maligned the work of the parish choir and organist (that is, me), and made it clear that they wanted no part of either. It took some time to get over it, and I think it took some of the committee a long time to accept me as their musician.

We were greatly helped by the presence of a talented pianist and church musician, one T.W., who initially led the music at 8:45. In those days, I generally sat in the back corner of the church and participated as a member of the congregation. When T.W. moved to another state, the mantle fell onto my shoulders as pianist and songleader. I have done my best. The musical center of gravity of the 8:45 service was initially that of Roman Catholic "renewal" music -- songs such as "Here I am, Lord" and "On Eagle's Wings." These and similar songs remain important, but we also sing a lot of music from the Iona Community and from Taizé, a as well as a good bit of "world" music. For a while, we were blessed by the presence of a Congolese refugee who sang like an angel. When he sang (mostly in Swahili), it was like a voice from heaven. But I have tended to resist the frequent calls for more "special music." It would be easy for the 8:45 music to become more performance-oriented rather than congregational. For reasons of time, there is precious little music at 8:45 as it is. I would hate for the congregation to lose the opportunities that they have.

As I mentioned the other day, the traditional congregation needs some of this sort of congregational music, in balance with the hymnody they already sing. And they would resist it, I think. Some of them become thoroughly allergic when asked to sing a Taizé ostinato on an occasion such as Maundy Thursday, when people from all three "congregations" are present. I am certain that they would rebel were I to schedule "On Eagle's Wings" for their service.

The great strength of the 8:45 congregation, one that the other two congregations need in larger degree than they possess, is their tolerance for the unexpected. We are blessed with a large number of preschool children. They make noise. They go in all manner of unexpected directions. And the 8:45 people mostly accept it.

St. Paul writes: "Let everything be done decently and in order." True, and important -- but that "decency" and "order" must include room for young children and others. In another congregation that I served, there was a large Sunday School class of special-needs adults. They would sit together in church, about twenty of them, and participate joyfully. When there was a song or spoken prayer (such as the Lord's Prayer), they would go at their own speed, and generally finish up well after the rest of the congregation. And it was all right. It was more than all right; it was a palpable blessing. Mind you, this was a very traditional service in a very traditional and conservative Presbyterian congregation, with choir and organ and clergy in black Geneva gowns and thirty-minute expository sermons and the dourest and most Presbyterian-looking ushers you ever saw. But they knew enough to accept and love these young (and not-so-young) men and women with Down's Syndrome and other challenges, and fully include them in worship.

How does one balance commotion with the desire -- indeed, the need -- for people to listen attentively and thoughtfully to something of great seriousness, perhaps a choral psalm or anthem, or a sermon, or an organ prelude, or the Eucharistic Prayer, or (above all) the Holy Scriptures? I do not know. I suspect that two things must be balanced:

-- the congregation as a whole needs to be seriously attentive with full inward and spiritual participation in every aspect of the service. Adults can provide a good example to children in this, and they can, by their example, teach the children. I have seen excellent examples of this, such as parents getting their small children to lay aside what they are doing, stand on the pew so they can see, and face the Deacon as she reads the Gospel. Without saying so in words, it communicates the message that "This is important. It is so important, we all must listen to it." The saying goes "Liturgy is caught, not taught." The children will never learn how to do liturgy unless they are present with the full community from birth, doing it insofar as they are able. They will learn not so much from what we tell them, but from what we do.

-- at the same time, the congregation must be flexible and accept a level of disorder and randomness and noise. The congregation needs a sense of humor about itself, and a sense of family. This is hard for some people, especially those who have never been parents. But they -- we, for I fall in this category -- are the ones who most need the presence of children in the worshipping community. "Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." (Mark 10:15)