Liturgy, the Husk and the Worm
The postmodern winds of change are blowing. Postmodernism is nothing if not an utter rejection of the utilitarian ethic of the last few centuries. It looks at contemporary services, and even the Evangelical “traditional” service, and yearns for something more. It yearns for the ancient. It is intellectual, yes, but it wants the emotional, spiritual, sacred connection to the communion of the saints that comes out of the ancient words of the Church. It values tradition even as it tramples it, finding an odd synergy with the Glori Patri and Doxology, with the liturgical year and the cathedral.
The amorphous thing that postmodernism is, I think, is well represented by two bands I like: Engima and Evanescence. Both are notable for their combination of somewhat disjointed, even existentialist themes intermixed with Classical influence. Engima pulls in the Latin chants of the medieval period, for example; Evanescence draws influence from composers such as Mozart.
This is not a rapid, radical shift, but rather one that has been coming for a century. It is shown in Karl Barth's engagement with the Church Fathers and Catholic theologians unlike almost anybody else in the modernist era. Barth's work is engaging in part because he holds a conversation with the Church historic rather than acting as if his own time was so enlightened as to render it moot. Likewise T.S. Eliot's powder keg of “Modernist” poetry (which fits into cultural postmodernity) is constantly hungry for tradition, rejecting the realist ideals of the pre-War era.
As postmodernism continues to encroach on the popular psyche, I expect that what these “prophets” of the change saw fifty, seventy or ninety years ago is now being felt — even if people do not have the vocabulary to explain it — in the inner depths of the average person. Not, perhaps, in the Baby Boom generation or even that following, but in the ones succeeding from there. Cut “free” from the benefit of having been nurtured by tradition, many are willingly returning to it.
We need more of the richness of St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Francis and less of Rick Warren and Pat Robertson. We are an malnourished church, starved of that which fortifies us in the midst of an orgy of information. Worse, like the Corinthians, we parade around thinking we are being spiritual and ascendant as we slowly pummel our culture to death.
The Journey is a St. Louis-based church that has a tendency to shake things up. It has grown astronomically in the few years it has existed. It is notable in that it seems to have an awareness of what the culture needs so as to be ministered to that is incredibly accurate thus far. They just launched a liturgical service.
The past 30 years in American evangelicalism have seen the rise of the contemporary, non-denominational church. Because of the noted success of these churches in reaching Baby Boomers, many church leaders today automatically equate being “relevant” or “missional” with a hip service with a rock band that sings contemporary choruses instead of hymns, complete with swirls of tie-dye eye candy decorating large screens instead of stained glass, crosses, and icons. What many have failed to grasp, however, is that these slick contemporary worship gatherings that meet in big auditoriums are often unsuccessful in connecting with newer generations. Churches like these build their philosophy of ministry on the fact that “we are not like your parent’s church.” In a post-Christian culture, however, people don’t generally care as much about not going to a church like their parents, simply because they didn’t grow up going to church at all. In addition, when newer generations do in fact venture out to try a Christian worship service, they look for and expect many of the elements that ironically the seeker churches have taken out of their services… Christian symbols, sacred spaces, and liturgical forms.
Does this invalidate those who want a contemporary service? No, of course not. What the postmodern air we are now breathing suggests, however, is that the era of the one-size fits all modernizing project has ended. The carcass of the Enlightenment Project needs finally to be tossed into the ocean. In a disconnected, disjointed world, many people want to worship God in a way that is set apart from the world, that is a sanctuary from the world. Not to escape the non-Christians, rather, this is precisely the thing that the unchurched yearn for. They don't need another rationalist explanation of anything, what they feel is missing is the sacred. The church does its duty when it provides that which the world cannot, not when it tries to provide precisely what the world can.
Matthew Arnold, in mourning the loss of faith that he felt as a modernist, wrote:
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
His poems, in a sense, offer insight from someone who was aware of the sacred but felt it was lost. He did not rejoice in that loss; it was not a loss that was merely the enlightened progression to perfection in human nature. In successive decades, we have forgotten that this loss was one that many early modernists felt was worth mourning even as they chose to abandon it. We seemed to think we ought to eliminate the sacred rituals too, even if we clung to the kernel inside that husk; those of us who had the theological structure to justify keeping that which Arnold mourns ironically rejoiced as we threw away what others would give everything to possess.
Maybe we need to realize that the husk is not always good to discard. Arnold, Tennyson and others — whatever conclusion they arrived at concerning faith in general — may have been better attuned than we to what even the faithful were discarding. They had the sense of the majesty contained in a true encounter of God through the sacred rituals of the Church. The rituals were not the cause of lost faith — the idea that rituals are what kill faith is absurd. Rather, those that abandoned the rituals did so because the church did not adequately hold on to the basis for those rituals.
Later, people misplaced the blame and felt it praiseworthy to discard the husk that “obscured” the the true kernels of faith, unaware that the true problem has not been that husk, but the worms eating away at the very kernels. But stripping away every husk only exposes the kernels to more and more worms.
Maybe the husk is worth reclaiming.
Gripping Reading
I always feel bad complaining about N.T. Wright's work — he's not only prolific, he's perhaps one of the best examples of a scholar who fits somewhere within Evangelical ranks. I like that Wright is willing to question the status quo while remaining strong on the essentials. He's not merely someone who can sound scholarly, he's a major mover and shaker. So, the benefits to reading his works are fairly obvious.
Yet, his scholarly level works can be tedious at times. I'm reading Jesus and the Victory of God for class right now. Some of it is actually quite engaging, and all of his work feels profound. I expect people will be reading these relatively new books still in 100 years. But, it can be slow going. For quite possibly the first time ever — or at least in a very long time — a book put me to sleep. Literally. I'm not sure how long I was asleep, but for a few minutes, I suppose, the second chapter of Wright's work faded into dreamland.
Wright can write quite well, so I'm not sure why he can't try to give his scholarly works a bit more of the life that the great theological writers of the past did. Barth can be hard, but he doesn't put me to sleep. Be that as it may…
I'll likely be writing more on Jesus and the Victory of God in the coming weeks.
Whirlwind
This week has been a whirlwind. Today, on the other hand, was quiet. That can be both good and bad. The good is that with seminary being snowed out, I spent my time getting ahead in the readings. I'm now about a week ahead on one class and on track with another. I'd like to keep trying to get ahead, because there is a good likelihood one or more classes may expedite things next week, given the missing day (and the fact that two of the classes that were canceled are once-a-week classes).
I spent too much time thinking, though, and that can be a dangerous thing. I shouldn't think and drive. Or something like that.
So, how's the weather in your neck of the blogosphere?
Late Night Haiku XXIX
LXXXI. My head is spinning,
I can't seem to hold it still,
Thoughts rush by.
LXXXII.Flushing, rushing by,
A stream runs in parallel,
Unconcerned with me.
LXXXIII. A great joy in mix,
The current tugs unknowing,
A twig floats away.
The Importance of Right Theology
As someone who aspires to the title of theologian (though has in no way earned the right to it), I certainly believe theology is important. Clearly when we are talking about God, there can be few things more important than understanding him and his will as well as possible. But, the greatest gift from God is not teaching of doctrine or something along those lines, but love (1 Cor. 13.13).
What does that mean for us in general? We as Christians put too much emphasis on right doctrine as if it could save us. We are functionally working as those saved by doctrine alone — the specific doctrine a given person favors is of little consequence. The other day, my wise professor Dr. Jay Sklar was relating to us a story about another faculty member at Covenant who was in Scotland. That person observed that when Christians are only a two in a hundred statistically, suddenly our little dogmatic skirmishes seem less important and simply finding someone else with whom one shares the Apostle's Creed seems enough.
In many ways, it is.
That is not to say all the minutiae is unimportant, many things within the realm of Christian dogmatics are utterly important. But not as important as the core truth of the Gospel: that the one, sole creator God of the universe was incarnate among us, died for us and restored us into a body of which he is the head. That's the heart of our story. It is not the end of our story, but the beginning which convicts us and leaves us with no choice but to make every theological confrontation within the bounds of historic Christianity one of brotherly or sisterly love.
If only we lived this principle, if only the world would truly “know we are Christians by our love,” then we would be doing the will of God. Let us not mistake doctrinal purity as our mediator with God; our ancient predecessors learned the dangers of misplaced mediation after they failed to head the prophet Jeremiah's warning, “Do not trust in these deceptive words: ‘This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD’” (Jer. 7.4 ESV).
What does God truly desire of us? Micah tells us (v. 6.8)
He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the LORD require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?
I would rather serve all day alongside a Christian full of love for God and for those around him, but with messed up doctrine, than an hour with a Christian of great doctrinal strength and a condescension for all those with less perfectly constructed theological constructs.
Palm's Got It
I plan to publish a piece on the Palm Pre soon, but for now, my title will suffice. Assuming the device lives up to the hype around it today — and early tests from Engadget give me hope — I think somebody actually figured out how to make a true iPhone competitor (something that has been sorely lacking). And, I couldn't be happier that this somebody is Palm.
It'll be exciting to see how Palm webOS shapes up. Of course, I sort of wish they'd kept the old Palm OS name. Maybe they should have called it Palm OS X.
Uncle Jay Explains 2008
This is worth a listen (and a laugh).
Let's Try Unconscious Mutterings Again
From Unconscious Mutterings:
I say … and you think … ?
- Confirmation :: Class
- Verse :: Shakespeare
- Authorize :: Starship Autodestruct
- Blog :: More
- Thirty :: A few years from now
- Heir :: Apparent
- What are you doing? :: Answering a meme.
- Complaint :: No word from A.G.
- Leave :: A message after the tone.
- Tune :: The Star's Song by Erin Bode
Keep on Rolling Forward
Well, I've survived day 1 of 10 in the accelerated Hebrew course. That feels good. So far it is living up to the predicted time frame for study, but not exceeding it. That's good. It means I may keep my sanity after all.
In the mean time, my AT&T article over at OFB continues to plow away. It's showing up in more and more places, which is exciting. It's certainly the biggest piece I've written in half a decade and it is aimed squarely at becoming the most read OFB article ever. Count me as excited. I'm working on a follow up, trying to gather new material in what little spare time I have right now. Fun, fun, fun!
Abandon All Hope...
Tomorrow I begin a two week intensive Hebrew term. Somehow in two weeks, students are suppose to become masters of the Hebrew weak verb. I'm not entirely sold on this idea, but it is a required part of my degree, so come tomorrow I'll be trying to plow back through new parts of Hebrew… and thinking about Dante.
