I just wanted to pop in and drop two observations and then run:

1) I agree that we should be outraged about an apparently stolen election in Iran. But where was the outrage when there was voter intimidation in this country (caught on videotape), in Philadelphia and other places? Poll “security” armed with night sticks keeping people out of polling places. And then the Justice Department refuses to pursue them. Left, right, center, or wherever you may be on the political spectrum: it doesn’t seem right to me.

2) Considering what’s going on in Iran, not to mention here at home (Government stake in GM, anyone?), why in the world are these yahoos staging a protest over a TV SHOW??? I agree that the original joke was in bad taste and that the first apology left something to be desired, but he went back and apologized, and his apology was accepted by the persons he targeted in the joke! (FWIW, I, like Dave, assumed the daughter in question was the older one too. I don’t follow the Palins’ travels with rapt attention, and I daresay I’m not in the minority there.) If the approximately 15 people involved in this protest think they represent the “Christian right,” they’d better think again. “Right” (as in right wing, not as in “righteous”) maybe. “Christian,” no. Again, Palin forgave the man, people. You should do the same. After all, the Golden Rule is not “do unto others as they have recently done to a politician you idolize.” Again, it’s a TV SHOW, people! My TV has more than one channel. TV lives and dies by ratings. You don’t like a show, don’t watch. Enough people don’t watch, it gets canceled. These yahoos need to realize that, in TV, there is no such thing as bad publicity. Letterman’s ratings have gone up significantly because of this whole thing. All attention has been on Conan O’Brien as the new kid on the block. Dave was seeming pretty stodgy to a lot of people. Now, people are reminded of the old Letterman who used to take swipes at the “pinheads at NBC” while he was still working there: the edgy, unpredictable Letterman, and they’re tuning back in.

Ascension gets overlooked.  It gets overlooked by liturgical churches because it’s lost between the “big” days of Easter and Pentecost.  And it gets overlooked by non-liturgical churches because most events in Heilsgeschichte (the History of Redemption) are not celebrated by non-liturgical churches, except for the Nativity and the Resurrection.  Of course those two events are important, but they do not tell the complete Story.

We don’t need to overlook the Ascension.  The Ascension story reminds us that all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Christ (Matt. 28:18).  It reminds us that Christ now rules and reigns as King of kinds and Lord of lords.  The reign of Christ is not a future reality:  it is a present reality.  Without the Ascension, we lose sight of that.

The Ascension story that is read today in many churches and on this coming Sunday in many others (Acts 1:1-11) also reminds us that the ascended, reigning Christ is also the Christ who will one day return.  The Ascension directs our attention to a glorified Christ, one who is worthy of all our worship, and one who will one day return as the judge of all.

Sonnet No. 7 from La Corona

Salute the last and everlasting day,
Joy at th’ uprising of this Sun, and Son,
Ye whose true tears, or tribulation
Have purely wash’d, or burnt your drossy clay.
Behold, the Highest, parting hence away,
Lightens the dark clouds, which He treads upon ;
Nor doth He by ascending show alone,
But first He, and He first enters the way.
O strong Ram, which hast batter’d heaven for me !
Mild Lamb, which with Thy Blood hast mark’d the path !
Bright Torch, which shinest, that I the way may see !
O, with Thy own Blood quench Thy own just wrath ;
And if Thy Holy Spirit my Muse did raise,
Deign at my hands this crown of prayer and praise.

John Donne (1572-1631)

1) Adam is incredibly talented and I enjoy watching him perform, but not everyone does.  I like Axl Rose and Geddy Lee too (who have similar singing styles to Adam), but not everybody does.  A lot of people don’t like to listen to it.  There are others who enjoy watching Adam perform but who say they wouldn’t necessarily buy a record by him.  Kris proved himself, I think, to be more marketable as a recording artist.

2) Danny’s fans were very passionate.  Many of them were very vocal in their hatred of Adam.  On the top three show, only 1 million votes separated Adam and Kris.  With Danny gone, his fans switched their votes to Kris.  How many were voting for Kris or simply against Adam is impossible to tell.

3) I don’t think the young women who constitute the majority of Idol voters were ready for a non-traditional eyeliner-wearing pop idol.  Kris has the look of a pop star.  Looks have played a role in the pop idol business going all the way back to Frank Sinatra and his bobby-soxer fans.

Kris will be a bankable recording artist for the producers of AI, which is what they want.  Adam will be hugely successful too.  He will have a career on the stage à la Clay Aiken or go on tour for the next 1,000 years like Cher.  Or maybe with Cher.  Or maybe as Cher . . .

I get several updates on Twitter that tell me about a “crash on I-59,” etc.  On the news everyday, we hear about some “car crash” on the highway somewhere.

When I read “crash on I-59,” my mind’s eye envisions an airplane that has made a crash landing on the interstate.

I say wreck.  Car wreck, train wreck.  Plane crash, yes, because a plane plummets from the sky and crashes to the ground.  But it has always been for me car wreck and train wreck.  I used to hear “car wreck” from the media too.

When did all the wrecks become crashes?

I know some churches don’t, but I’ve never been in one.  I’m really starting to rethink this whole “pass the plate” thing.  It all started this past Ash Wednesday, as I read the appointed Gospel for that day:

[Jesus said,] Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.  So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.  But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.  And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.  But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.  And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.  But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.  Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.  (Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21, NRSV)

Now of course I read this every year on Ash Wednesday, and I typically encourage the worshipers at my church to wash their faces before they leave the service:  the imposition of ashes is a reminder to us who have received the ashes of our own mortality and our own repentance, not a means of displaying our piety before others, as Jesus plainly points out in the lesson.  This year, just a few days before Ash Wednesday, I had seen someone in one of those “iPray” T-shirts (a Christian ripoff of the iPod logo).  Such shirts are common in the evangelical subculture.  Some people think they are cool, or at the very least cute.  To me they range from tacky to downright revolting, especially when they are of the “Godweiser:  This Blood’s for You” ilk.  (I’m not making this up.)

But beyond my sartorial tastes, how Christian is it to parade around in a shirt that proclaims to the world that I pray, whether it’s a play on a popular brand or not?  Such shirts are marketed as “witnessing tools,” but witnessing means being a witness to what we have heard and seen, not bragging that we are more spiritual than others!  Jesus says go into your room and close the door to pray.  How is the “I Pray” shirt any different from standing on a streetcorner and praying aloud in order to be seen in the act of praying?

But Jesus doesn’t just talk about washing our faces when we fast (such as on Ash Wednesday) or not advertising that we pray (T-shirts notwithstanding):  he says that our giving should likewise be in secret, hence my recent, growing discomfort with passing the plate.

(As I said, it’s not always a plate.  In some churches it’s a basket.  In others it’s a velvet bag with wooden handles, which I admit are kind of cool to pass along in the pew.  The worst, though, are the bags with one long handle that the usher holds under your nose until you put something in it.)

I know the theology behind the Offertory, and I fully believe that the Offertory should be a part of the liturgy.  I’ve read Dom Gregory Dix.  I know that the Offertory is the “hinge” between the Synaxis (the liturgy of the Word) and the Eucharist (the liturgy of the Table).  But what are we chiefly offering in the Offertory?  Two things:  1) the Eucharistic gifts (bread and wine), and 2) ourselves as “living sacrifices” (Romans 12:1).  That’s what the Offertory is there for, liturgically.  Adding the passing of the plate to the Offertory makes pragmatic and logical sense, but is it biblical?  Does it fit with Jesus’ clear instructions in the above Gospel lesson?

Inevitably, when the plate is passed, people will see who is giving and who is not giving.  This is inevitable, as hard as they might try not to look.  At the presentation of the offering, I inevitably see how much is in the plates and, as hard as I might try not to think about it, I do.  It is a tremendous distraction.

Many of the “emerging” or “emergent” churches (there is a distinction between those two terms, but I don’t know what it is) have eschewed the passing of the plate in favor of an alms box in the back of the church.  Many Roman Catholic churches have always had alms boxes in the back and have never passed the plate.  Perhaps we should emulate them.

I can already hear the objection:  “But if we don’t pass the plate, giving might decrease.”  As the church, we proclaim the words of Jesus:

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. (Matthew 6:25-33, ESV)

Shouldn’t we practice what we preach?  If we are afraid not to pass the plate because giving might decrease, aren’t we engaging in just the kind of worrying that Jesus tells us here not to engage in?  Why not set up an alms box, let people know that it’s there, and trust God that people will use it or will do as others already do and mail their gifts in or surreptitiously put them in the treasurer’s box in the office?

These are just my preliminary thoughts:  I’d like to know what you think.  Are there any reading this whose church does not pass the plate?

Well, Chris Daughtry came in fourth and did well.  Much better than the winner that year:  Taylor Hicks.  If Danny goes through and wins this thing, I predict a similar outcome:  Adam, Kris, and Allison will all be more successful than he will be as recording artists.

As this weekend is the Aaron’s Dream Weekend at Talladega, sportscasters around the country will do doubt be telling America about the goings-on in “Talladayga.”

It has never, never, never been “Talladayga.”  The only people who pronounce it “Talladayga” are the people who have never been to Talladega.

That third vowel in that name has a range of pronunciation from long e as in “keep” to short e as in “pet” to short i as in “trip.” Most often, it is the middle one, so it sounds like “Talladegga,” although “Talladeega” and “Talladigga” are said by locals fairly commonly.

But never, never, never “Talladayga.”

Thank you for your time.

Luther Seminary Communion Bread

We had this one today.  I wanted to try a new one since we have a new wooden paten and a new wooden chalice.  My Roman Catholic and Episcopal friends are scratching their heads right now and asking themselves,”Did he say wooden?  Aren’t a paten and chalice supposed to be gold or silver?”  I’ll post about wooden Communion vessels in the Reformation tradition another time.  Right now, here’s something I think (I hope) we can all agree on:  this is really good Communion bread!

We’ve looked at the church that tries its hand at liturgical worship to try to appear more suave and sophisticated, and we’ve also looked at a sort of general cluelessness that pervades too many services.  That’s our story so far.

Scenario 3:  The Overly-innovative Church

Sometimes when pastors and others involved in planning and leading worship get interested in liturgy, they get into innovation a little too much.  The philosophy behind liturgical worship is participation, both in the sense of affording maximum participation on the part of as many members of the assembly as possible (inclusivity), and in the sense of participating in the worship of the church at large, both down through the ages and around the world (catholicity).  Over-innovation can often serve to eliminate participation, both inclusivity and catholicity, from worship, and then, what’s the point?

On losing inclusivity:  I’ve had pastors, especially Reformed ones, tell me they think it’s a good idea to have a completely different liturgy every week, “so it doesn’t become routine.”  They miss the point that parts of the liturgy need to become “routine” so that the body of worshipers may enter into them enthusiastically.  C.S. Lewis famously said, “Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament, or repent, or supplicate, or adore. And it enables us to do these things best…when, through familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don’t notice. Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling. The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God. But every novelty prevents this. It fixes our attention on the service itself; and thinking about worship is a different thing from worshipping.” (Letters to Malcolm, Chiefly on Prayer, p. 4.)

Besides Lewis’ observation that we cannot really dance to the music until we have learned the steps, pastors need to consider who they are excluding through too-frequent changes in the liturgy.  Those with poor eyesight (such as the elderly) and those who cannot read (young children and those with disabilities) will be left out of a service that is completely different every week.  I once worked with a pastor who got rid of the Doxology (which had opened the service) and the Gloria Patri (which had been sung after the Creed) in favor of singing a new “Ascription of Praise” every week.  When I mentioned that those two elements of worship were the only two elements that some in our congregation were able to participate in (for the reasons listed above) he seemed particularly unconcerned.  Inclusivity was important to the one who said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.” It should be important to those who worship him, too.

Innovations that remove catholicity from our worship are just as common, and they come both from right-leaning worship leaders as well as left-leaning ones.  The overly-innovative right-wing liturgists tend to fall into the “cult” category.  By that I don’t mean that they have started religious cults, but that the liturgies they produce tend to give off a cultlike vibe.

When I arrived at my current church, my predecessor had borrowed some parts of the liturgy from some of the overly-innovative churches.  (I don’t mind mentioning this now, as he is now in the Church of England and is now do doubt embarrassed by some of the things he experimented with while he was here.)  One of them was the following versicle.  I will step on some toes by printing this, because it is now in use in a handful of churches that I am aware of.  Allow me to try to absolve myself in advance by saying that I have absolutely no idea who came up with this first and who copied whom, so it is not my intention to malign any particular individual.  At any rate, here is the versicle.  It was used at the presentation of the offering.

Minister:  What gifts have you brought for your Lord?

People:  We offer ourselves through confession, praise, and thanksgiving; we give our prayers and alms for the sake of the world, and we participate in this Supper as a memorial of Christ our Lord.

Now, there’s nothing egregiously amiss with the theology expressed in those words:  the Offertory is a giving not only of our gifts (both the Eucharistic gifts and our money) but also of ourselves.  The offertory is an expression of Romans 12:1:  “Present your bodies as living sacrifices to God, holy and acceptable, which is your spiritual worship.”  Having the congregation answer this question on the part of the minister (”What gifts have you brought for your Lord?”) first of all places an enormous, unhealthy chasm between clergy and laity (”what do we bring to our Lord” would be a thousand times better).  Secondly, the people’s required response reminds me of one of those speeches Thumper’s father required him to recite in the movie Bambi (”Eating greens is a special treat/It makes long ears and great big feet”).  It’s a good thing to educate people as to why we do what we do in worship, but to attempt to do so through an exchange such as this is pedantic and smarmy.  It always made me feel like David Koresh leading the Branch Davidians in worship.

But overzealous innovation is not only the territory of conservatives.  There are plenty examples on the left too.  In recent years, this has been most noticeable in prayers of confession.  If you consult some contemporary books and web sites on worship, you won’t have to look too long to find prayers of confession in which we confess the sins of not using compact fluorescent bulbs and not bringing our own bags to the grocery store.  OK, I’m exaggerating, but most of you have experienced what I’m talking about.  (For the record, I do use compact fluorescent bulbs and I do take my own bags to the grocery store.)  There’s a reason we call it the “general confession of sin.”  Not only is it general in the sense of being used by everyone collectively, but also it should be sufficiently general in content that everyone can use it.  No committee on worship in New York, Grand Rapids, Chicago, Louisville, or anywhere else should pretend to know what the specific sins of any congregation are.  Besides, that’s why we have a time of silent confession either before or after the general confession:  so people can confess (silently) their specific sins.

Besides, putting too many current issues into the confession of sin guarantees that the liturgy will become really dated, really fast.  Trying to make the liturgy too contemporary consigns the liturgy to a very short life.  Presbyterians, any of you still use the 1970 Worshipbook?  I didn’t think so.  Episcopalians, do you find it hard to listen to the Star Trek prayer (Eucharistic Prayer C in Rite II) without hearing William Shatner reading it in your mind?  There’s nothing bad about worship being timely, but it should also be timeless.  Sometimes when we try to make it too timely, we just ensure that it will be hopelessly dated in a short while.

The urge to tinker with the liturgy endlessly is neither a conservative nor a liberal urge, it seems.  It’s human:  we always think we can improve something.  Some things can be improved.  From time to time, things don’t need improvement but they do need updating for the sake of understanding.  (One thinks of modern translations of the Bible versus the 1611 King James Version in this context.)  Generally, I think, when it comes to innovations in the liturgy, less is more.  Our attempts at improvement to the liturgy should keep these two facets of participation in mind:  inclusivity and catholicity.

I can’t believe we have to listen to Matt again next week.  Aaargh!  The American people had the good sense to vote him off.  Why, oh why did the judges save him?  He is really starting to grate.

If for no other reason, they should have let him go home for saying he was going to sing the song “the way it should be sang.”  Yikes.