I went to a conservative non-denominational high school that was a loose association of families (mostly from the same church) who home schooled their children but wanted them to have certain types of classes available. I won't explain the long story of why I was in this setting (maybe another time) but I remember a really funny conversation I had with a classmate the Wednesday after Easter. My family was attending a Lutheran church at the time, and as you know from my recent post on the subject, Holy Week is a Big. Freaking. Deal. for Lutherans. So we were understandably tired the day after Easter and skipped school, and so my classmate was inquiring about that. After I had explained about the week-long church marathon, my classmate looked at me and asked quizzically, "Why would go go to church that many times? Are you Catholic or something?" I was really offended! Not because there's anything wrong with being Catholic but because as kind of the original protestants which made their non-denominational worship a thing at all, I felt like people should recognize that there are protestant traditions that are deeply ritualistic but which also profess a different doctrine than Catholicism. I didn't want to be lumped in with another denomination whose theological commitments were different than mine! I felt so very misunderstood.
Aside from demonstrating what a dork I was even in high school, I'm telling you this because that was the first moment when I realized that liturgy is not well understood by a lot of people. What is the point of all those calls and responses and all that jazz? To non-liturgical traditions, it can feel stuffy or formal. To non-Christians it's just strange. It's a shame that it looks that way, though, because to those of us who know what it's all about, the rituals of worship are deep and beautiful expressions of our Christian identity. And so, as usual, my goal here is to explain a little bit about it.
Now, when I say liturgical, I don't necessarily mean a denomination that is formal with incense and robes and organs and such. Liturgy can be formal or informal, but it is basically the form of the worship service, or the things you do and say in it. For some, the parts are set and everything is the same each week (or depending on the season), and for some the parts can be moved around and change slightly from week to week. A Lutheran worship service will vary quite a bit in the order but generally has the following things: greeting, confession & forgiveness, prayers, readings, sermon, confession of faith (creed), holy communion, and benediction. There will be hymns interspersed throughout. Again, this can be formal with organ and lots of bowing and robes to super informal with t-shirts and rock bands. Liturgy refers to the things you do and say as part of the worship service, not how you do and say them.
So what's the point? These things can look silly, especially everybody reading the same text in a monotone, and if you do them week after week you can slip into not thinking about it. Why not keep it simple and have music, a scripture reading and sermon, and maybe some prayers? The answer is that liturgy gives shape to the service. It tells a particular story, and we go through these motions to remind us of what ties us together as a people, and what the important parts of our faith are. Skip Sundberg is a professor at Luther Seminary, and he contends that a worship service is itself an act of confession and absolution. Through the liturgy we acknowledge that we are broken creatures, and then we have forgiveness declared to us again and again, through the reading of the gospel, through prayers, and especially through communion. The real beauty is that regardless of what exactly you believe (and there is a lot of variety), you have an awareness of being called to a community.
The importance of the community can't be underestimated, and for me this really answers the question of why you go to church at all. It's not because God will be mad at you if you sleep in (trust me, I sleep in sometimes and I do this church stuff for a living!), but because being part of a community ties you with other people who can have faith when you are too weak, hurting, or scared to do so. I remember being a teenager and questioning the whole Jesus thing, and at that time I couldn't bring myself to say the creed. I just couldn't do it. But people stood all around me declaring it, and it was okay for me to not have faith then, because somebody else had faith for me. Going through these motions as a community can also help you to recognize your sin and humble yourself when you're too prideful, because you're saying the words and that practice transforms you even if you're not aware of it. And most importantly, through these rites and rituals we declare to one another, profess publicly before one another, and hold for one another the truth of the gospel that despite our sin, we are forgiven, and despite our brokenness, we are healed. We worship together and do so in particular ways because we are all tied together by Jesus who came for the world, and gives a formful expression to the things we believe, so that our faith can feel tangible even when God feels distant, and so that we remember who we are and to whom we belong.
There's no right way to worship, and liturgies come in all shapes and sizes from a jazz service to the highest high church you can imagine. But for those of us who love this style of worship, there is something deeply moving about standing next to people you may not know at all, but knowing that we, as Mother Theresa said, "belong to each other" and that their confession is mine and my forgiveness is theirs, because we are all Christ's.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Thursday, May 1, 2014
The Physics of Bread and Wine
I happened upon an interesting article about time and the laws of thermodynamics today. I don't claim to be knowledgeable in the realm of math or physics by any means, but my understanding is that these scientists are conjecturing that despite our traditional understanding of time, entropy, or the chaotic state toward which all things tend, exists regardless of the direction that time is flowing. In other words, if you have a room full of particles moving around, their arrangement will, over time, become more chaotic, but according to these scientists, if you run time backwards the arrangement will be equally as chaotic. This presents a really interesting problem, because the big bang was theoretically a moment of extremely low entropy, but how can that be if, in reverse, the universe would un-bang into an equally chaotic arrangement as it is heading toward now? Furthermore, if it's true that we are moving toward entropy in our universe (and we think it is, as we see the universe expanding and becoming less organized), how do we explain cosmological changes that result not in more disorder, but in order--for example, the birth of a star. Maybe that's not a good example (again, not a physicist!) but we also see examples of increasing order in our lives.
In some ways, we always become disorganized. I think I have written before about how I think that this ever increasing state of entropy is a symptom of a world which is fundamentally broken. Stephen King's Dark Tower series writes about a 'winding down' of the world, where time doesn't move as it should and things that should work or have order don't. It's a beautiful metaphor for how we live. It feels like the world has "moved on." We lament the way things were, when it seemed like they made more sense. But in some ways, it's not the world that's becoming more off. Objectively, the world is getting better in a lot of ways. MLK said that the arc of history is long and bends toward justice, and we can see that all over the place from the introduction of child labor laws to women's suffrage and civil rights. Yet some people would see recent progress (such as marriage equality or sexual freedom) as a sign of increasing societal decay. So we have this strange paradox between entropy and order, which varies based on our perception.
There's an interesting episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine where Captain Sisko meets aliens who exist in non-linear time. They have difficulty understanding Sisko's grief over the death of his wife because for them all moments exist simultaneously and are accessible. Sisko is a linear creature who can't go back in time, but he's also stuck in the moment of his wife's death. These aliens struggle to grasp the problem of human entropy--our lives heading toward death, having an awareness of it, but being bound by it at the same time. Whether he went back or forward, his life was still trapped in a moment of the ultimate entropy of death. And yet these aliens existed outside of this time. It got me thinking about how these scientists mentally experimented. Is it possible that the problem isn't entropy in all directions, but our perspective on things?
The story of the walk to Emmaus is a perfect example of this. Two disciples are walking along the road toward this town of Emmaus three days after Jesus' death, where they encounter a man on the road. They have lost all hope, buried in a moment in time in which the man they thought would redeem Israel had died, stuck in a moment of grief and an irreparably altered future. However, it turns out that this man on the road is actually Jesus, though they aren't capable of perceiving him as they knew him. On this road, Jesus walks with them, teaches them, and ultimately they beg him to stay. He goes with them to eat, and it's only through the meal that they are released from the trap of their linear, finite reality and opened up to the resurrected Christ sitting across the table from them.
We are stuck in this reality where whether we go forward or backward we face pain, decline, helplessness. The parallel between infancy and old age has been pointed out by many people, and it's true. In this world, we are largely helpless either way. This article on time made me think, though, not about our own constraint, but the way that God breaks into it. Although time's arrow moving both backward and forward looked like increased entropy in the minds of those scientists, I suspect that in the mind of God who created all things, it makes a lot more sense. The arc is truly too long for us to perceive. And yet we have a little puncture hole into that reality, when we are met by the presence of a being who is both divine and mortal in bread and wine and water. Through the sacraments, and through our daily encounters with the Spirit of God in the world, we are introduced to a glimmer of the reality that defies our understanding of thermodynamics. Often our existence does look and feel pretty chaotic, but I think that is only because "now we see dimly, as in a mirror." (1 Cor. 13:12) When the reality of a defiant, grave escaping Jesus returns to us in fullness and we see him face to face, I expect that things will look mighty different to us as well.
In some ways, we always become disorganized. I think I have written before about how I think that this ever increasing state of entropy is a symptom of a world which is fundamentally broken. Stephen King's Dark Tower series writes about a 'winding down' of the world, where time doesn't move as it should and things that should work or have order don't. It's a beautiful metaphor for how we live. It feels like the world has "moved on." We lament the way things were, when it seemed like they made more sense. But in some ways, it's not the world that's becoming more off. Objectively, the world is getting better in a lot of ways. MLK said that the arc of history is long and bends toward justice, and we can see that all over the place from the introduction of child labor laws to women's suffrage and civil rights. Yet some people would see recent progress (such as marriage equality or sexual freedom) as a sign of increasing societal decay. So we have this strange paradox between entropy and order, which varies based on our perception.
There's an interesting episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine where Captain Sisko meets aliens who exist in non-linear time. They have difficulty understanding Sisko's grief over the death of his wife because for them all moments exist simultaneously and are accessible. Sisko is a linear creature who can't go back in time, but he's also stuck in the moment of his wife's death. These aliens struggle to grasp the problem of human entropy--our lives heading toward death, having an awareness of it, but being bound by it at the same time. Whether he went back or forward, his life was still trapped in a moment of the ultimate entropy of death. And yet these aliens existed outside of this time. It got me thinking about how these scientists mentally experimented. Is it possible that the problem isn't entropy in all directions, but our perspective on things?
The story of the walk to Emmaus is a perfect example of this. Two disciples are walking along the road toward this town of Emmaus three days after Jesus' death, where they encounter a man on the road. They have lost all hope, buried in a moment in time in which the man they thought would redeem Israel had died, stuck in a moment of grief and an irreparably altered future. However, it turns out that this man on the road is actually Jesus, though they aren't capable of perceiving him as they knew him. On this road, Jesus walks with them, teaches them, and ultimately they beg him to stay. He goes with them to eat, and it's only through the meal that they are released from the trap of their linear, finite reality and opened up to the resurrected Christ sitting across the table from them.
We are stuck in this reality where whether we go forward or backward we face pain, decline, helplessness. The parallel between infancy and old age has been pointed out by many people, and it's true. In this world, we are largely helpless either way. This article on time made me think, though, not about our own constraint, but the way that God breaks into it. Although time's arrow moving both backward and forward looked like increased entropy in the minds of those scientists, I suspect that in the mind of God who created all things, it makes a lot more sense. The arc is truly too long for us to perceive. And yet we have a little puncture hole into that reality, when we are met by the presence of a being who is both divine and mortal in bread and wine and water. Through the sacraments, and through our daily encounters with the Spirit of God in the world, we are introduced to a glimmer of the reality that defies our understanding of thermodynamics. Often our existence does look and feel pretty chaotic, but I think that is only because "now we see dimly, as in a mirror." (1 Cor. 13:12) When the reality of a defiant, grave escaping Jesus returns to us in fullness and we see him face to face, I expect that things will look mighty different to us as well.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Doubting Thomas / Faithful Christ
This past Sunday was the first Sunday after Easter, and since the lectionary is in John this year for the season, we got to hear the tale of "doubting Thomas" found in John 20. I actually hate that phrase, because I think it misses the point of the story, but I'll say more about that in a minute. It was also "recovery Sunday" at my church, so we had some folks who were in the recovery process from alcohol and other addictions speaking and reading the Psalms for us, which was pretty cool. Although at a glance this story, in which Jesus appears to his disciple Thomas, who then demands proof that Jesus is truly who he says he is, doesn't necessarily tie with recovery, I thought it was particularly appropriate.
First of all, Thomas gets a really bad rap. Unlike Peter, who denied Jesus three times, at least Thomas had the gall to be straight forward about his feelings. But think about the situation. Thomas has spent the last three years following Jesus around, putting all his energy into learning from this radical guy who is talking about bringing about a new kingdom and the like, and then his teacher and friend is put to death. His life is kind of a mess. He's just spent three years on a job hiatus putting all his eggs into the Jesus basket which is now buried six feet under, or so it seems. Not to mention everything Jesus was preaching about can't be true if he's dead, so now what does Thomas have to believe in? He's probably in a pretty bad place emotionally.
This is kind of the position that addicts get to be in. They're at the end of their rope. Things aren't working out and they don't know what to do or how to go forward. But that's not just the story of addicts, but also maybe our story after a major disappointment like a job loss or a failed marriage, or maybe it's the pieces of your life after an unexpected illness has claimed your health and mobility, or even a death. We often find ourselves in this place of despair, where our lives feel so shattered that we're not even sure where to start looking for all the pieces, let alone picking them up and putting them back together. If we think about it, we've all got a bit of Thomas in us from time to time.
After Jesus has been crucified and raised from the dead, he appears to the disciples in a locked room, except poor Thomas isn't with everybody else. Maybe he's drowning his sorrows in wine or maybe he's looking for work, but he's not with them. Later they bump into him and tell him what has happened, but he can't believe it. And why should he? He just spent the last three years misplacing his faith in a dead guy, so why should he cling to what's gone? He is trying to put his life back together and get on with things. Thomas tells his buddies that unless he touches the wounds in Jesus' hands and feet from where he was hung on the cross, he won't believe it. He's still friends with the disciples, though, and so a week later they're all together and Jesus appears again. This time after greeting them with peace he walks right up to Thomas and offers his hands as proof of who he is. Thomas is awe struck and professes that this is God. Jesus says: "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe."
And thus Thomas is ever thereafter identified not by his three years of committment to the gospel but by his moment of weakness and disbelief. Except, Thomas is never identified that way by Jesus. He's identified that way by us, and that's how we do things, isn't it? We often identify ourselves and others by their weaknesses: that's an addict, that's a victim, that's a criminal. It's never 'that's a person who recovered, that's a person who survived, that's a person who reformed.' Jesus doesn't meet Thomas with accusations, but with outstretched hands saying 'okay, you don't believe? Then let me help you.' His response to Thomas' failure to trust in God's word of promise is not a silly moniker or chiding but an invitation to taste and see the reality of the risen Christ standing in his living room. He never says 'shame on you for not believing' but merely points out that he believed because he saw, and others will be blessed because they may believe without having the opportunity to see for themselves.
This says two things to me. First, it means that whatever the broken remains of your life, Jesus is reaching out a hand in the midst of it to offer an encounter that will change your heart, open your eyes, or heal you. Christ meets our failure, disaster, sin, addiction, injury, and illness with the open arms of love. Therefore we shouldn't be identifying others, or ourselves, with the wrong we have done but with the good Jesus offers. Are you a sinner, addict, victim, or criminal? No, you are beloved. We have an amazing God who identifies us not by our worst but with Jesus' best! Secondly, this tells me that you are blessed. You are blessed in your doubt and unbelief and failure, because although you can't see him, you have been given an opportunity to encounter God. The apostle Paul is all about being made strong through our weakness, and that's exactly what happened for Thomas: he was offered Christ not in spite of but because of his doubt! It's through the ashes of a fallow field that a new crop grows. In other words, Jesus takes your worst and transforms it into an opportunity for faith and an encounter with the sacred.
The point isn't that Thomas was a doubter, but that Jesus is a savior who is present and loves us enough to meet us where we are, not demand we get to someplace higher in order to be worthy. We're all sifting through the ashes of our burned out lives in one way or another, whether it be an eating disorder, a broken relationship, or just a sense of apathy about our neighbors and world in need, and Jesus doesn't tell us to get out of the ashes, but hops in and starts digging with us until we can put it all back together. That's the power of God who becomes one of us; it's so that through his weakness, we can be made strong, and through his death, we can be brought to life because he's standing right beside us with open, nail-scarred hands offering faith, hope, and a new future in the middle of the worst life has to throw at us.
First of all, Thomas gets a really bad rap. Unlike Peter, who denied Jesus three times, at least Thomas had the gall to be straight forward about his feelings. But think about the situation. Thomas has spent the last three years following Jesus around, putting all his energy into learning from this radical guy who is talking about bringing about a new kingdom and the like, and then his teacher and friend is put to death. His life is kind of a mess. He's just spent three years on a job hiatus putting all his eggs into the Jesus basket which is now buried six feet under, or so it seems. Not to mention everything Jesus was preaching about can't be true if he's dead, so now what does Thomas have to believe in? He's probably in a pretty bad place emotionally.
This is kind of the position that addicts get to be in. They're at the end of their rope. Things aren't working out and they don't know what to do or how to go forward. But that's not just the story of addicts, but also maybe our story after a major disappointment like a job loss or a failed marriage, or maybe it's the pieces of your life after an unexpected illness has claimed your health and mobility, or even a death. We often find ourselves in this place of despair, where our lives feel so shattered that we're not even sure where to start looking for all the pieces, let alone picking them up and putting them back together. If we think about it, we've all got a bit of Thomas in us from time to time.
After Jesus has been crucified and raised from the dead, he appears to the disciples in a locked room, except poor Thomas isn't with everybody else. Maybe he's drowning his sorrows in wine or maybe he's looking for work, but he's not with them. Later they bump into him and tell him what has happened, but he can't believe it. And why should he? He just spent the last three years misplacing his faith in a dead guy, so why should he cling to what's gone? He is trying to put his life back together and get on with things. Thomas tells his buddies that unless he touches the wounds in Jesus' hands and feet from where he was hung on the cross, he won't believe it. He's still friends with the disciples, though, and so a week later they're all together and Jesus appears again. This time after greeting them with peace he walks right up to Thomas and offers his hands as proof of who he is. Thomas is awe struck and professes that this is God. Jesus says: "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe."
And thus Thomas is ever thereafter identified not by his three years of committment to the gospel but by his moment of weakness and disbelief. Except, Thomas is never identified that way by Jesus. He's identified that way by us, and that's how we do things, isn't it? We often identify ourselves and others by their weaknesses: that's an addict, that's a victim, that's a criminal. It's never 'that's a person who recovered, that's a person who survived, that's a person who reformed.' Jesus doesn't meet Thomas with accusations, but with outstretched hands saying 'okay, you don't believe? Then let me help you.' His response to Thomas' failure to trust in God's word of promise is not a silly moniker or chiding but an invitation to taste and see the reality of the risen Christ standing in his living room. He never says 'shame on you for not believing' but merely points out that he believed because he saw, and others will be blessed because they may believe without having the opportunity to see for themselves.
This says two things to me. First, it means that whatever the broken remains of your life, Jesus is reaching out a hand in the midst of it to offer an encounter that will change your heart, open your eyes, or heal you. Christ meets our failure, disaster, sin, addiction, injury, and illness with the open arms of love. Therefore we shouldn't be identifying others, or ourselves, with the wrong we have done but with the good Jesus offers. Are you a sinner, addict, victim, or criminal? No, you are beloved. We have an amazing God who identifies us not by our worst but with Jesus' best! Secondly, this tells me that you are blessed. You are blessed in your doubt and unbelief and failure, because although you can't see him, you have been given an opportunity to encounter God. The apostle Paul is all about being made strong through our weakness, and that's exactly what happened for Thomas: he was offered Christ not in spite of but because of his doubt! It's through the ashes of a fallow field that a new crop grows. In other words, Jesus takes your worst and transforms it into an opportunity for faith and an encounter with the sacred.
The point isn't that Thomas was a doubter, but that Jesus is a savior who is present and loves us enough to meet us where we are, not demand we get to someplace higher in order to be worthy. We're all sifting through the ashes of our burned out lives in one way or another, whether it be an eating disorder, a broken relationship, or just a sense of apathy about our neighbors and world in need, and Jesus doesn't tell us to get out of the ashes, but hops in and starts digging with us until we can put it all back together. That's the power of God who becomes one of us; it's so that through his weakness, we can be made strong, and through his death, we can be brought to life because he's standing right beside us with open, nail-scarred hands offering faith, hope, and a new future in the middle of the worst life has to throw at us.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Warm Days and New Life
Today was the first warm day in a long, long time. It got up to the mid-70s for the first time in what feels like ever, but in reality was probably just about six months ago. It had been a long winter! In fact, here in Minnesota it's been a record breaking one--the harshest, most persistently cold winter in 35 years. We had several weeks of nothing above zero, and during those days when we wore two layers of long underwear, wool socks, snow boots, multiple sweaters, scarves, hats, gloves, and still felt cold, it seemed like the end would never come. Actually, the worst days were probably in March when it seemed so tantalizingly close, and those of up who grew up in warmer climates started to get really, really fed up with the continued drizzly-snowy 20s-30s. When the weather is that bad for that long, our moods start to reflect it. "How are you?" somebody would ask. "Cold. Tired. Depressed. Ugh."
But today was perfect, and not just because of the glorious, breezy mid-70s weather. For me, it started out with a quick warm up followed by two amazingly awesome Easter services. It probably sounds funny to describe a church service as "awesome" but it was. Despite being buried under a robe that I'm pretty sure heated up all those who wore them to about the point of combustion, and despite standing on sore feet for prayer after prayer and hymn after hymn, and despite the crowds, the exhaustion of holy week, and all that's wrong in the world, somehow, for me, it lightened everything. The same way that the warm weather finally melted the last, stubborn bits of snow, Easter services where we sang lots of high notes and heard a great sermon and sat together with friends to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus, today somehow melted away for me a lot of what's wrong in the world and my life. It melted away a lot of uncertainty, for what the future might hold once I graduate from seminary in a couple months, and it melted away the anxiety, at least for a little while, of the situation in Ukraine. Today served as a reminder that, as Jason Gray writes in one of his wonderful songs: "Winter can make it seem like spring was never true, but every winter breaks upon the easter lily's bloom." In other words, the lily opens, the snow melts, we figure out who we are and what we're doing in our lives, and bad political situations do get resolved. Tragedies are grieved, and new life comes from them. That's what this day is all about. It was a perfect little snatch of the paradise we are promised in God's future. It's here, or at least it was today, for me.
My perfect day is not everybody's. Families in South Korea are currently grieving for the loss of possibly as many as two hundred or more lost in the ferry accident, and residents in the cities in eastern Ukraine are trying to go about their lives while armed men hold down their government buildings, and depression is real, and grief is real, and frustration is real, and that may have been today for you. But the thing is, even though it seems like the last time you had a perfect day was far away, it was there, as Jesus stood outside his own empty tomb, it was there. And at the same time, those lovely days, those good and beautiful days are promised to us. Jesus is with you in your winter, and Jesus will bring you to Easter again. As sure as he stood there before his puzzled disciples who touched the wounds on his hands and feet, you will also feel warmth on your face and a sense of love and well being in your heart. Happy Easter to you. Know that wherever you are in this journey of your life, Christ is leading you to Easter right now in your day to day grind, and in the life to come. Winter can never remain because Christ is risen! Alleluia!
But today was perfect, and not just because of the glorious, breezy mid-70s weather. For me, it started out with a quick warm up followed by two amazingly awesome Easter services. It probably sounds funny to describe a church service as "awesome" but it was. Despite being buried under a robe that I'm pretty sure heated up all those who wore them to about the point of combustion, and despite standing on sore feet for prayer after prayer and hymn after hymn, and despite the crowds, the exhaustion of holy week, and all that's wrong in the world, somehow, for me, it lightened everything. The same way that the warm weather finally melted the last, stubborn bits of snow, Easter services where we sang lots of high notes and heard a great sermon and sat together with friends to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus, today somehow melted away for me a lot of what's wrong in the world and my life. It melted away a lot of uncertainty, for what the future might hold once I graduate from seminary in a couple months, and it melted away the anxiety, at least for a little while, of the situation in Ukraine. Today served as a reminder that, as Jason Gray writes in one of his wonderful songs: "Winter can make it seem like spring was never true, but every winter breaks upon the easter lily's bloom." In other words, the lily opens, the snow melts, we figure out who we are and what we're doing in our lives, and bad political situations do get resolved. Tragedies are grieved, and new life comes from them. That's what this day is all about. It was a perfect little snatch of the paradise we are promised in God's future. It's here, or at least it was today, for me.
My perfect day is not everybody's. Families in South Korea are currently grieving for the loss of possibly as many as two hundred or more lost in the ferry accident, and residents in the cities in eastern Ukraine are trying to go about their lives while armed men hold down their government buildings, and depression is real, and grief is real, and frustration is real, and that may have been today for you. But the thing is, even though it seems like the last time you had a perfect day was far away, it was there, as Jesus stood outside his own empty tomb, it was there. And at the same time, those lovely days, those good and beautiful days are promised to us. Jesus is with you in your winter, and Jesus will bring you to Easter again. As sure as he stood there before his puzzled disciples who touched the wounds on his hands and feet, you will also feel warmth on your face and a sense of love and well being in your heart. Happy Easter to you. Know that wherever you are in this journey of your life, Christ is leading you to Easter right now in your day to day grind, and in the life to come. Winter can never remain because Christ is risen! Alleluia!
Friday, April 18, 2014
Monday, April 14, 2014
What is lent, holy week, and easter?
For Christians around the world, the six weeks beginning with Ash Wednesday and leading up to Easter Sunday is a tradition and ritual that we know well. However, a friend of mine told me about the guy he had been seeing, how after Ash Wednesday this fellow laughed at my friend's ashes on his forehead. I think probably this person didn't mean any disrespect, but having heard even a lifelong Christian friend admit she didn't really understand the symbology of the ashes, I thought maybe I should write up a post on the whole shebang explaining it all. Christmas has the benefit of being a huge commercial holiday that's celebrated almost universally these days in some form or another, so the basic idea of the story ("Jesus is the reason for the season") has at least been circulated. I think people are less familiar with the significance of this season, so let me try to summarize the major features as briefly as possible.
The season of lent, which comes directly after the season of epiphany, kicks off with Ash Wednesday. Most people have probably heard of it mostly in relation to Mardi Gras or "Fat Tuesday" ("Shrove Tuesday," to some), which is the celebration before people start giving things up.
Ash Wednesday
This day marks the official start of the lenten season. To understand it, you have to know that the next six weeks (or 40 days, which excludes some days in case you figured out that the math doesn't work) is all about a journey toward Jesus' death on the cross. In order to sort of prepare our hearts for this long remembrance, we have a service where ashes are imposed in the shape of a cross on people's foreheads while saying "you are dust, and to dust you shall return." The point is to acknowledge our mortality. We know we're part of a fallen creation and understand that the result of that brokenness is death, for us, for those we love, and for the world. It's really easy to get caught up in life and forget about why we are Christians at all, and this is a reminder of why we need Jesus, why we need the cross, and most importantly why we need resurrection.
Lent
As I said, lent is the whole six week season. In this season, we journey toward the cross, recalling the life of Jesus through various stories like the raising of Lazarus and healing narratives. Traditionally, people will give up an indulgence for lent like coffee, chocolate, or even meat, while others will pick up a spiritual discipline like prayer or devotions. Personally, I don't think quitting coffee is going to bring me closer to Jesus. I attend mid-week services and stay engaged with my usual study. It's different for everybody. A lot of churches will have a Wednesday evening service which is meditative.
Palm/Passion Sunday
Palm Sunday, now also known as Passion Sunday is the Sunday right before Easter. In the story of Jesus, right before the passover, Jesus returns to Jerusalem knowing what is going to happen. People have heard of him and greet him like a king or prophet, waving palms and laying down their coats on the ground. This very kingly treatment is ironic for two reasons: first, the plot to kill him is already in motion, and second, because Jesus is really not the kind of king they expected! My understanding is that Palm Sunday used to stand alone but it became "Passion Sunday" because people weren't really attending the holy week services as much, so they kind of mashed up the whole story of the passover, betrayal, and crucifixion into one day.
Maundy Thursday
This is the celebration of the passover, where Jesus has the "last supper" with his friends/disciples. At this dinner, Jesus humbles himself to wash the feet of his disciples, something that is considered below his station as their teacher, but which symbolizes his humbling himself for the world. Jesus also institutes the words of the last supper (Eucharist or Communion): "This is my body, given for you; this is my blood, shed for you, do this in remembrance of me." Finally, during this Thursday service, we recall the betrayal of Christ which leads to his arrest. The service usually ends with the church alter being "stripped" and laid bare as Christ was. There is no benediction at the end of this service because it is seen not as an ending, but as the first part of a story which will end Easter Sunday.
Good Friday
Good Friday is the day of Christ's crucifixion. This is the most solemn service of the church year, and is often variable between traditions. One feature is a reading of the crucifixion story. Some churches do a "stations of the cross" where they lead meditations on each of the different things that happened during the crucifixion like the people casting lots for his clothes and the carrying of the cross to the hill Calvary where he dies. There is no communion at this service and usually the altar and cross are covered in black cloth. There is no benediction.
Vigil of Easter
The Easter Vigil is one of the coolest services out there. Historically, this was literally a vigil--people would come to church on Friday and then keep vigil in the church all night through Easter morning in prayer and meditation. Now this turns out to be a rather long (2-3 hour) church service where certain traditional readings are given. These readings include creation, the flood, the exodus, exile, a Romans passage, and a gospel passage, among others. The idea was to recount the whole life of God's people while awaiting the fulfillment of the promises God made way back to Abraham. This service often includes baptism, and is technically the conclusion of the other services and the beginning of Easter, so it generally ends with a celebration. A lot of churches have totally dropped this service even if they do the others, but if you ever have a chance to go I highly, highly recommend it!
Easter Sunday
The reason the other services didn't have a benediction is because as Christians we know that the end of the story is NOT death, but Christ defeating death and through that defeat raising us all up to life. The color of this service is white, the signifier of life and newness, and usually the church is filled to the brim with flowers! This is probably the most celebratory service that anybody will ever experience in a church, because this is what we're all about. This is the central profession of the church--that although we walk in the shadow of death, although we all submit to the grave, that the reality of power over the weak, of sin, of illness, of hatred and pain is NOT the reality that we will always live in. Instead, we look forward to our own resurrection with Jesus, the healing of all things. We celebrate Easter because we know that we are ultimately not subject to death anymore, and so we can look forward even in the midst of all our struggles with hope, because the God who made us and cares for us is for us, with us, and among us, raising us up every day.
So that, my friends, is what this season and its church services are all about. Personally, Easter is my favorite holiday! I love getting gifts and eating tasty food as much as the next person but for me, nothing beats the joy of waking up on Easter morning and singing "Jesus Christ is risen today!" knowing that I, along with millions of Christians around the world, truly believe that life is more powerful than death. Blessed holy week and happy Easter to you all! He is risen!
The season of lent, which comes directly after the season of epiphany, kicks off with Ash Wednesday. Most people have probably heard of it mostly in relation to Mardi Gras or "Fat Tuesday" ("Shrove Tuesday," to some), which is the celebration before people start giving things up.
Ash Wednesday
This day marks the official start of the lenten season. To understand it, you have to know that the next six weeks (or 40 days, which excludes some days in case you figured out that the math doesn't work) is all about a journey toward Jesus' death on the cross. In order to sort of prepare our hearts for this long remembrance, we have a service where ashes are imposed in the shape of a cross on people's foreheads while saying "you are dust, and to dust you shall return." The point is to acknowledge our mortality. We know we're part of a fallen creation and understand that the result of that brokenness is death, for us, for those we love, and for the world. It's really easy to get caught up in life and forget about why we are Christians at all, and this is a reminder of why we need Jesus, why we need the cross, and most importantly why we need resurrection.
Lent
As I said, lent is the whole six week season. In this season, we journey toward the cross, recalling the life of Jesus through various stories like the raising of Lazarus and healing narratives. Traditionally, people will give up an indulgence for lent like coffee, chocolate, or even meat, while others will pick up a spiritual discipline like prayer or devotions. Personally, I don't think quitting coffee is going to bring me closer to Jesus. I attend mid-week services and stay engaged with my usual study. It's different for everybody. A lot of churches will have a Wednesday evening service which is meditative.
Palm/Passion Sunday
Palm Sunday, now also known as Passion Sunday is the Sunday right before Easter. In the story of Jesus, right before the passover, Jesus returns to Jerusalem knowing what is going to happen. People have heard of him and greet him like a king or prophet, waving palms and laying down their coats on the ground. This very kingly treatment is ironic for two reasons: first, the plot to kill him is already in motion, and second, because Jesus is really not the kind of king they expected! My understanding is that Palm Sunday used to stand alone but it became "Passion Sunday" because people weren't really attending the holy week services as much, so they kind of mashed up the whole story of the passover, betrayal, and crucifixion into one day.
Maundy Thursday
This is the celebration of the passover, where Jesus has the "last supper" with his friends/disciples. At this dinner, Jesus humbles himself to wash the feet of his disciples, something that is considered below his station as their teacher, but which symbolizes his humbling himself for the world. Jesus also institutes the words of the last supper (Eucharist or Communion): "This is my body, given for you; this is my blood, shed for you, do this in remembrance of me." Finally, during this Thursday service, we recall the betrayal of Christ which leads to his arrest. The service usually ends with the church alter being "stripped" and laid bare as Christ was. There is no benediction at the end of this service because it is seen not as an ending, but as the first part of a story which will end Easter Sunday.
Good Friday
Good Friday is the day of Christ's crucifixion. This is the most solemn service of the church year, and is often variable between traditions. One feature is a reading of the crucifixion story. Some churches do a "stations of the cross" where they lead meditations on each of the different things that happened during the crucifixion like the people casting lots for his clothes and the carrying of the cross to the hill Calvary where he dies. There is no communion at this service and usually the altar and cross are covered in black cloth. There is no benediction.
Vigil of Easter
The Easter Vigil is one of the coolest services out there. Historically, this was literally a vigil--people would come to church on Friday and then keep vigil in the church all night through Easter morning in prayer and meditation. Now this turns out to be a rather long (2-3 hour) church service where certain traditional readings are given. These readings include creation, the flood, the exodus, exile, a Romans passage, and a gospel passage, among others. The idea was to recount the whole life of God's people while awaiting the fulfillment of the promises God made way back to Abraham. This service often includes baptism, and is technically the conclusion of the other services and the beginning of Easter, so it generally ends with a celebration. A lot of churches have totally dropped this service even if they do the others, but if you ever have a chance to go I highly, highly recommend it!
Easter Sunday
The reason the other services didn't have a benediction is because as Christians we know that the end of the story is NOT death, but Christ defeating death and through that defeat raising us all up to life. The color of this service is white, the signifier of life and newness, and usually the church is filled to the brim with flowers! This is probably the most celebratory service that anybody will ever experience in a church, because this is what we're all about. This is the central profession of the church--that although we walk in the shadow of death, although we all submit to the grave, that the reality of power over the weak, of sin, of illness, of hatred and pain is NOT the reality that we will always live in. Instead, we look forward to our own resurrection with Jesus, the healing of all things. We celebrate Easter because we know that we are ultimately not subject to death anymore, and so we can look forward even in the midst of all our struggles with hope, because the God who made us and cares for us is for us, with us, and among us, raising us up every day.
So that, my friends, is what this season and its church services are all about. Personally, Easter is my favorite holiday! I love getting gifts and eating tasty food as much as the next person but for me, nothing beats the joy of waking up on Easter morning and singing "Jesus Christ is risen today!" knowing that I, along with millions of Christians around the world, truly believe that life is more powerful than death. Blessed holy week and happy Easter to you all! He is risen!
Easter is coming.
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