Pondering the unconventional in worship
Ruth Meyers
Since a
weeklong stay with the Iona community in Scotland, I’ve been pondering the use of symbols in worship.
Not the primary Christian symbols used in worship—bread, wine, water, oil—nor
even the cross. Rather, I’m thinking about non-sacramental worship.
Worship at Iona
occurs twice a day. Morning worship has an unvarying daily structure—a service
centered on scripture and intercession. Evening worship has a different focus
each day, so that pilgrims who participate in the community’s weekly programs
move through a set sequence of services. Monday is a “Service of Prayer for
Justice and Peace,” and Wednesday brings an “Act of Commitment Service.” The
week I was there, both of these services focused on unconventional symbols: a
tea bag and a door.
At the
service of prayer for justice and peace, the officiant asked the assembly to
consider the cost
of tea. She explained that workers on tea plantations in India make just 12
pence an hour, and girls are regularly sold into slavery because their parents
need the money and can’t afford to feed them. After a gathering and
introduction of the theme, we heard the parable
of a dishonest manager. Three readings followed: first, from an 18-year old
girl who had been sold into slavery by her parents at age 14; then, from a
trafficker; finally, from those attempting to address the problems of unjust
wages. Together, these readings highlighted the complexity of the issue; even
“fair trade” tea is implicated. After the readings, worshipers were invited to
take the tea bag that had been placed on each seat and ponder possible
responses, then come forward to tables set near the altar/table, where we could
leave our tea bag in a bowl and pick up a slip of paper about “The Cost of
Tea.” The service concluded with an affirmation of faith, prayers, and a sending.
Two days
later, I participated in a service of commitment entitled “Boundary Crossing.”
When we entered the Abbey church, we found a door propped up against a chair at
the west end of the nave (near the place where the officiant customarily sits).
After opening sentences and a song, the assembly was seated, and a man moved
from his place to stand next to the door. Six other people came from different
places among the assembly—one in a hooded sweatshirt, hood up, wearing dark
glasses; another in coveralls splattered with paint; a person wearing an apron,
and another wearing a clerical collar; another with a baseball cap, and one wearing
a dark shirt. As they emerged from their places, they stared intently at the
door and moved slowly toward it.
Once they
had arrived at the door, the person standing next to it pushed it over so that
it landed with a loud “thud.” He picked it up and dropped it again, slowly
moving through the aisle to the altar/table at the east end. The only sound we
heard was the sharp banging of the door as it was moved end over end. The six
characters followed it, still staring intently at the door, and after it was
propped upright against the altar/table, they slowly backed away to the west
end, eyes still fixed on the door.
Finally, the
silence was broken. The first watcher came to a microphone and spoke words of
accusation against Jesus because he had transgressed. When she finished
speaking, she walked deliberately to the door with a handful of 4-inch spikes
in her hand. After placing them on the door (from where I was sitting, I
couldn’t see exactly where), she turned her back on the door and walked quickly
away. The next speaker spoke her accusations, then came forward with a hammer,
which she placed on the door as well. Next came a rope coiled in a circle that
looked something like a crown of thorns, then, one by one, two actors brought a
4x4 beam, one placed upright, the other across the upright. Finally, a card
inscribed INRI. Each actor turned away from the door and walked away once their
object had been placed. Once the tableau was complete, we sang a song called
“Look Out,” with the refrain “Jesus, beware.”
Then, one of
the worship leaders talked about crossing boundaries: Jesus as one who
challenged the status quo and crossed the line; the limits and boundaries we
face. The leader invited us to step from our places to make an act of
commitment. Lines of yellow-and-black-striped caution tape were on the floor of
the center aisle in the nave, and if we chose, we could stand on one side of a
line (facing toward the altar/table and the tableau propped in front of it) and
decide whether to step across it. We stood to sing “Lord Jesus Christ, Shall I
Stand Still?” During the third and final verse, we could move to make the act
of commitment. At first, few did so. Seated near the altar, standing at a line
myself, I couldn’t tell whether anyone was moving. So when I turned to go back
to my seat I was deeply moved to see a number of people in the center aisle.
The service concluded with an affirmation and the South African song “Ewe
Thina/ We Walk His Way,” during which the entire assembly processed out of the
church into the cloister. There, the singing continued for several minutes.
Two very
different symbols: a door, and a tea bag. How did they “work”? What meanings
did they evoke? Time at the Iona community offered both informal and structured
opportunity to ponder with other worshipers.
The tea bag
was confusing. Not a symbol with resonance in Christian tradition, it was used
to make concrete the issue that we were considering—unjust wages for tea
workers and the consequent human trafficking. I didn’t see the tea bag in my
seat until directed to pick it up, and from the hunting around I observed, I
suspect that most worshipers didn’t see it. (There was a tea kettle on each of
the two tables where we eventually placed our tea bags, but the meaning was
opaque at the beginning of the service.) What were we doing by placing the tea
bag in a bowl with others? It wasn’t our own offering, since we hadn’t brought
it to the service. It probably couldn’t be used to make tea, given health
regulations, so weren’t we actually contributing to the problem by wasting the
tea? I learned later that some worshipers chose not to give up their tea bags,
though the officiant didn’t offer this as an option. Some people thought the
tea bag would be more effective as a take-away object, one that would call to
mind the issue when they happened to find it in their pocket.
Though I
could understand the issue, it may have resonated more with those from the
United Kingdom, where tea is an integral part of the culture. Overall, worship
that evening instilled in me a sense of guilt, along with frustration that
there was no solution nor even any action I could take that might lead to
justice.
The door was
also puzzling, at least at first. The extended movement—actors toward the door,
the door end over end from the west end to the east, actors backing away, all
the while gazing intently at the door—drew the assembly’s attention to the
door, even though we didn’t understand what was happening. Gradually, as actors
spoke accusations against Jesus (never by name, always “you”) and created the
tableau, meaning became evident. I thought about Jesus as the gate
for the sheep, and Jesus’ command to enter by the narrow
door. I remembered the stained-glass window in the chapel where I worshiped
as a child, a door with no handle, because, my mother explained, we had to open
the door for Jesus. I pondered what it is to cross a threshold. As I
listened to the actors’ accusations, the one that resonated most profoundly was
the priest who criticized Jesus for daring to change worship practices.
We discussed
our responses with Jo Love and Graham Maule, part of the Wild Goose
Resource Group who designed the worship. Would the door be effective with
people who don’t know the Christian story? It might lead them to wonder and so bring
them into the story, while those who know scripture have more specific
references to help them interpret it. Graham and Jo explained that when they
design worship, they take a lot of time to think through symbols they consider
using. What will enable the assembly to focus on the symbol? How exactly will
the symbol be used? Might there be unintended meanings evoked that would be
confusing or even counter to what the leaders hope to convey?
At Holy City in Glasgow, Scotland,
which meets monthly for non-sacramental, ecumenical worship, they begin with an
hour-long workshop, giving them opportunity to introduce concepts or symbols
that will be part of that evening’s worship. A group meets after the service—on
Thursday, following a Sunday gathering, so there is time to reflect
individually rather than reacting immediately in a group process—to discuss the
experience and begin planning next month’s worship.
What is your experience with the use of
unconventional symbols in worship? What has been highly effective, and what has
been problematic? Why? How do you determine what to use as a symbol in worship,
and how to use it? What processes do you have in place for reflecting on your
experience? Can we identify some principles for the use of symbols in worship?
Ruth Meyers is the Hodges-Haynes Professor of Liturgics
and Dean of Academic Affairs at Church Divinity School of the Pacific, and author
of Continuing the Reformation: Re-Visioning Baptism in the
Episcopal Church. She is currently working on a book about liturgy and
mission. She is the chair of the Episcopal Church’s Standing Commission on
Liturgy and Music and an associate member of the Council of The Associated
Parishes for Liturgy and Mission.
We as a church people will often make more of the images of faith, then the culture, climate and will of being together. I am finding more individuals have questions which are good valid indicators of their wish to be part of the love of trinity. Jesus demands us to love with all our mind, soul, strength and spirit, as he taught. When a church door is more important then a single person praying and seeking forgiveness, that institution has a definite challenge to deal with.
ReplyDeleteYes I agree organizations are essential for good reasons, but the scripture and tradition assures all who worship as a larger community of what the blood and body of Christ means and gives us, grace mercy and peace through balance in this world and certainly beyond. I look forward to my mission role with all who share life because of the eucharist, devotional time, shared throughout each event of Christian life.