The Old, Old Story

It seems that the older I grow, the less sure I am in my assessment of life, in my spiritual faith.  I recognize this tendency because I find that I ask more tentative questions that I offer certain answers.  And recent questions as I sat in church include these.  Why did we invent liturgy?  Why do we have lectionaries of ordered scriptural readings to guide us through the church year?  And the simple answer is that we are selective beings, and left to ourselves we will surround ourselves with that which makes us comfortable, or content, or secure.  We will edit and redact until the spiritual story and setting suits us perfectly.  And in that comfort zone we will stagnate or decay; worse yet we will solidify and become set in concrete, unchanging, and losing the ability to effect change in our world.

Liturgy insures that each time that we gather in the name of Jesus, we do those things that are important to our spiritual wellbeing and growth.  Paul told the church that "all things must be done properly and in an orderly manner."  (I Corinthians 14:40).  Without a sense of what should be present, what priority it holds, and how it should be participated in our church services could become a hymn fest, or an all-night preaching service, or extended silence and contemplation, or concerts of prayer...whatever suits our fancies.  We see the hints of liturgy  in Acts 2:42, "They were continually devoting themselves to the apostle's teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer."   The elements of liturgy unfold in that passage, the word, shared life, the sacraments, corporate prayer; a skeleton around which diversity and variety can still be accommodated so as to be fresh, meaningful, and relevant.

 Liturgy is the moment in time in which we express our spiritual reality, Lectionary is the context. Using a lectionary helps us to avoid telling only part of the story of God's threefold action in our world, creation, providence, deliverance. And it guards us against losing the center of the story, Jesus. As the old hymn tells us, the repetition and cycle of the lectionary help us to tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.  

And in that hymn we find the key elements of why lectionary preaching remains, in my opinion, one of the most powerful tools to fostering life in our church congregations, and raising up the next generation of churchmen and women.  Simply put,
Tell me the old, old story of unseen things above....
Tell me the story simply, as to a little child...
Tell me the story slowly, that I may take it in....
Tell me the story often, for I forget so soon....
Tell me the story softly, with earnest tones and grave....
Tell me the story always....
Tell me the same old story....
Tell me the old, old story, Christ Jesus makes thee whole.

Marking Time

I thought it was appropriate to title this post marking time, since I have obviously not marked any time on this blog since March.  I chalk that up to grandchildren, the short but glorious summer in Vermont, and life in general. But as the changing of seasons approaches once more, I thought I should get on with it and start writing again since, in a way, these words will one day be the only legacy I leave behind.

Several questions continue to plague me for answers...Why do we go to church, or said another way, Why do we even need church?  And while there have been many answers given that have some validity, I think ultimately the answer is somehow related to the historic church concept of marking time.  It is not surprising that our lives as well as history revolves in cycles.  At creation God set planets and stars in the heavens to mark times and seasons.  Even the creation of light placed two distinct periods of time into every day.  And when He gave the law on Sinai, He built into the ten commandments one that required observance of a sabbath, one day in seven, observed in holiness because of the work of God Himself.  To that He later added the sabbatic year, one year in every seven years for the land to rest, the jubilee year, one year in every seven of sevens of years for the release of debt, and the seven holy convocations for the nation (as the scripture calls them the times appointed by the Lord).

And the purpose of those times was to remember the works of God's deliverance and providence, and to become partakers in those graces, to make them present in the moment (we might say renew covenant with Him).  We are no longer under the Jewish laws, but old habits (or divine principles) die hard and so the Church marks time in its own way, ordering its year and celebrations around the two great anchor feasts of Christmastide and Eastertide.  And that's why our church year begins in December with Advent and not on the civil New Year's Day.  That's why the cycle of readings contained in the lectionary has remained so important to me and to the church.  We need that annual remembrance and covenant renewal in the grace and work of God.  Just as Moses commanded the entire law to be read in the hearing of the Israel when their gathered for their convocations, so too we need to hear the whole story again and again to keep it fresh, to make it ours, to give it to our children.  I tend to be crotchety this way; don't recite to me Paul's theology and doctrine, just tell me the old, old story of Jesus and His love.  It's only the latter that truly renews the covenant of grace in my heart and soul.

One last thought about marking time and going to church.  The New Testament states the principle of the tithe just as well as the Old Testament did when in Romans 11:16 it declares that if the first fruit is holy, then the entire batch is holy.  I think that gives a perfect reason for observing Sabbath, for going to church.  If we dedicate the first day of our week to God and His purposes and participate in the way in which our conscience guides us, then the offering of that tithe or first fruit makes the balance of our week consecrated, set apart also to God and His purposes.  We need to do that, because in the midst of business or school or home, our weeks sometimes seem far from God and His influence.  But that is the power of the tithe, even if we do not feel it, even if we are not aware of it, the transaction has been made, the offering has been given, and God will remain faithful to do His part in every moment of time.  I go to church to dedicate my week to the God I serve and to His purposes, I may not always fully succeed throughout the week, the I am confident that failure would only results without that first good beginning.

Re-Vision

I love the dictionary, it is so circular at times.  I was recently thinking of the word revision and what it means.  The dictionary, in its perfectly obtuse way, told me that revision was the act of revising.  Needless to say I finally found the formal meaning buried layers deep in my search through noun and verb forms.  To revise means to "look over again to correct or improve; to make a new, amended, improved, or up-to-date version."  Now where this all started out at was my thinking about spiritual vision, and the need occassionally to revisit vision, or to re-vision.  The notion that "God said it, I believe it, that settles it" is not the type of direction the church or I need in this time and age.  In the Old Testament the cloud and glory of God dwelt in the camp of Israel as they came out of Egypt.  It was an awesome wonder, a place of revelation, of glory, of spiritual visioning, a people being formed by the hand of God.  But in a day, a week, the cloud moved on and so did the camp.  To stay in the old place would be to remain in the wilderness and never enter into the promise.  God moves and our task is to track that movement and be present.  Too many of our congregations remain stationary in past encampments.

A lot of churches have written visions, those spiritual blueprints that try to say where a congregation believes it should be a year out, five years out, ten or more years out.  The problem with any attempt to develop a vision "cast in concrete" is that it is based on a present understanding that may be outdated in a year or five years.  The Spirit of God moves where He wills, we can't see where He originates, we can't see where He is going, we only feel Him passing in the present.  Too many church visions are concerned with building up the church.  But there is a big difference between "building up the church" and "being built up as a spiritual temple".  One is our idea of what needs to be done, the other is the exclusive movement and action of the Spirit of God.  I remember reading something about the kingdom of God, and the author said something to this effect; there is no reference in the scriptures to building up the kingdom of God, we are only called to receive it, to enter into it.  We do "church" very well, we've had years to perfect our organizations.  But I wonder if it is not time to "re-vision", to lay aside what we think we should be about and start looking again for where the Spirit of God is moving.  To borrow the words of Revelation, let the one with ears hear what the Spirit says to the churches, in this time, in this location.  God moves, it's time to get in step with Him..

What's the Point?

I used to think that church on Sunday sometimes was uneventful at best.  The people are great, but the entire congregation is stuck in a confederation that is 50 or 60 years old and no longer fits their current demographics, and they have inherited a liturgy that is sacrosanct and not easy to change.  So there is a lot of up and downs in the pews, and 200 year old songs stuck here and there, and forms that can never be wavered from.  It makes one think "What would happen if the Holy Spirit really did show up as everyone prays and blew wherever He chose to do so?"  But there is the benefit of reflection, both inward and Godward, and I get my best questions in the pews, rarely answers, just many, many questions.  And I find that the closer I get to asking the right questions, the closer I feel I am getting to laying hold of who God is, who I am because of Him, and what my life is intended to amount to.

So last week's questions included this one.  What is a better starting point for trying to live the Christian life, absolute truth or sincere doubt?  Anything needs a foundation to build on and I have always been told that the truth of God's word was the very best foundation for my life.  And because it was my foundation I defended it to any length necessary, because if the foundation starts to get shaky, so does what is built on it.  But I found, as I have aged and journeyed, that when people exhort you to build your life on the solid rock of God's word they usually have an implied version of interpreting God's word that they are foisting wholesale on you.  And that is when good solid granite gets mixed in with cheap brick to fill in those inconvenient areas, and that leads to a foundation with gaps, weak spots, places where water tends to seep in.  So I ask the question again, what is a better starting point?  Should we cling to our version of absolute truth and defend it to the death, often against common sense or the witness of life itself?  Or should we have the decency and honesty to say, "I don't know" and come to God with the prayer of the honest man who said "Lord, I believe, but would you help my me where I cannot believe"?  My life has tended to follow the latter path.  By now I should have amassed a wondrous amount of wisdom but instead I have a notebook of questions that one by one I wrestle with.  Some I bring to resolution, others I set aside for a time.  The sad fact is that is is far easier to learn something right the first time then to have to unlearn something that habit and time have reinforced.  Renovations, rebuilding, correcting structural defects are always more expensive in terms of time, resources, and energy.  But I've stayed the course this far and I don't intend to abandon the journey.  Rather fixing my eyes on Jesus, I press forward.  He is the one that started what faith I have inside me and He is the only one that can bring it to any fulfillment.