[note to the reader: the virtue of Christian charity has temporarily left me due to the vices of annoyance and criticism, otherwise known as liturgical wrath]
Today I went to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, which is of course a worship gathering of the three theological colleges wherein we compete to see who can be most creative with the order of service while still maintaining a semblance of tradition and decorum.
Today’s theme was “When in Our Music God is Glorified: a celebration in music and praise.” The idea was great, actually: that there would be a service crafted around the singing of hymns all centered around the theme presented in the first hymn, whose refrains were sprinkled throughout the order of service as a structuring meditational aid, bringing you always back to the main message. A+ for actually crafting a service that looks like what it intends to celebrate.
Unfortunately, the first hymn was “When in Our Music God is Glorified,” whose refrain is “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”…during Lent. I’m not sure if I was the only person who didn’t sing those words, since of course this word is supposed to disappear from the liturgy, since it’s Lent. In the pre-Vatican II rite, the omission of the word actually began on Septuagesima; do we have to go shortening that liturgical period even more by ignoring it entirely?
Because this was the first – the central – hymn, the whole order of service was sprinkled with reflection phrases saying “Hallelujah!,” which I admit sort-of ruined the mood for me.
Music is important to me. Liturgy is important to me. I feel like I’ve been horribly betrayed on both counts here. Ironically, the third verse of the song reads, “So has the church in liturgy and song, in faith and love, through centuries of wrong, borne witness to the truth in every tongue.” Um, hello? What exactly do liturgy and song witness to if not the birth, ministry, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ, each in their own season, following an ever-flowing rhythm? Today’s service feels something like being betrayed by Harry Potter – as if something so loyal and good were broken, leaving a trail of broken pieces that make it difficult to recapture that pure magic again.
The refrain of the closing hymn, “Go to the World,” reads, “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” So the whole worship service, expressing our praise through song, is framed and filled with liturgically improper worship and praise. Wow. Nothing this total has ever happened to me before. Oh sure, sometimes people add “Alleluia” to the closing blessing during Lent (which also happened today, and which already pisses me off enough), but an entire service? Wow.
I admit that, during the blessing, I actually rolled my eyes. This probably makes me a bad Christian, since that’s not exactly worshipful, but I couldn’t help it. I think I may not actually have been in a frame of mind for any of the service to count as prayer. What with the disposition of the heart being important and all.
After the service, people actually clapped for the organist! Dear Lord, why would anyone clap after prayer? I’ve never seen anyone break into applause after evening prayer. This is probably because a) you were all praying together so you’re congratulating yourselves, which is weird, and b) because laudatory applause directed at a musician makes the whole thing seem like a show, put on either for you or for God Himself. Prayer is not a show. Nor is it to be congratulated. The ‘well done, good and faithful servant’ belongs to God alone to give. Prayer resides in the heart and, though expressed in music, liturgical gesture and word, is not composed of them.
After the clapping, I confess that I started to laugh. Couldn’t help myself, and actually it took a while for the feeling to subside. I still kind of feel it right now. My levity makes me feel strangely joyful about it all…perhaps my heartfelt mirth counts as prayer?
Or is my sin of pride / intolerance / wrath / annoyance / and criticism in dire need of repentance and reconciliation?
Only the great Tri-Wizard Cup can decide.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Yeah, the liturgical inappropriateness bothered me too. I decided to think of it as a fast. As an Anglican, I chose to fast from "Alleluias" during Lent, much like I chose to avoid other things (such as various foods) - but if I am invited into someone else's house (in this case, into a UCC service) and offered food from which I am fasting, I will eat it if to refuse would cause offense. The fast is for my own spiritual growth, after all.
ReplyDeleteI found it easier, healthier, to accept that I'd moved into a different space and to be willing to go along with what was appropriate in that space, rather than attempting to cling to my own traditions. I suppose this is about being a gracious guest, not just a gracious host.
But it would have been nice if they had been welcoming enough to avoid the liturgical faux-pas - I suspect they didn't realize how significant the symbolism can be, and how much they were asking of their guests.
Hmmm...I guess the Tri-Wizard cup has decided on repentance. That's an excellent point. I sometimes wonder about whether or not I'd eat meat at someone's house if I were a vegetarian. Maybe if I just eat everything else it would be okay?
ReplyDelete