I went to Evensong last night at a local church; not Nearest Church, where I've been attending morning services, but another one.
It was good to have some sung psalmody, and indeed the Magnificat and the Nunc dimmitis sung congregationally as well. I'm not very good at singing these without music dots and it's hard to do in a huge church with 10 people dotted around it (any English person walking into a church full of strangers will sit as far from all the others as seems reasonably possible and this is horrible for singing together), but I went, and it was good.
What I didn't like was the sermon.
I cannot tell how much the priest was preaching to the evangelicals I know exist among that congregation, and how much he believes of what he said. The main thrust of his sermon was that we should value, cherish and care for all of God's creation, because the awe and wonder it can inspire in some people is an important tool for evangelism. His view of human arts -- architecture, music, poetry, and flower-arranging (his example, not mine) -- is also that these are to be kept, to be honoured, because they may be useful in evangelising the unchurched. Before the service, during the announcements, the same priest was talking about friendship and community outreach in the same terms, stating that the hire of the hall to a local group was good not only because it brought in income, but because it facilitated a new set of relationships which might be a fruitful field for evangelism.
I am not one to put a huge stock in literal interpretation of the Bible, as any long-time reader will know. But the Old Testament reading, Genesis 1.1 - 2.3, seems quite clear to me. The passage contains the words "God saw that it was good" no fewer than six times, and then adds "God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good." Not "it was good because it made people see God" or any of that. Just, plain and simple, God saw that it was good.
Do we need more reason than that?
It seems to me that means and end have been confused.
It's true enough that people may be drawn to faith through their wonder at the beauty of creation. Surely the sun and moon are beautiful and may remind us that God is God; much of my sense of the holy is grounded in sheer awe at the natural world. But surely also the centipede is created by God and therefore is also good, even if to most humans it seems repulsive. Surely even the rat and the louse are God's creatures, regardless of our revulsion. Are they less good than a waterfall, in God's eyes rather than in our human context? Truly the stars sing of God's majesty, but so do the grasshoppers. Either might bring someone to consider the Creator behind the creation, but they do not somehow fail in their createdness if they don't. God made them and saw that they were good.
It's true enough that people may be drawn to faith through the observation of human-created artefacts...grand cathedrals, concert halls and the concerts within them, shuttles that fly to the moon, poetry that sticks in one's mind, a child's scribblings on the back of old envelopes. Indeed, music has been and, I suspect, always will be an important part of my own journey to and in faith. It's a lot more complex than "listening to or singing the music leads to belief in this or that doctrine" and I suspect that most paths are winding, most journeys are complex. There's no denying that the creations of human beings can glorify God and that sometimes people may be receptive to that. But if a cathedral fails to inspire someone, should it not have been built? If a piece of music falls on deaf ears, either spiritually or literally, should we condemn it as bad because we cannot conceive of a use for it? Context is important, purpose is important, but to reject all that does not fit our human-defined contexts would be a grave error.
It's true enough that people may be drawn to faith, or to church, through their relationships with others. Again, this has certainly been the case for me. Where would I be today without a kind word here, a bit of quiet understanding there, the hands that caught me as I stumbled, kept me from hitting the ground and helped me keep my balance until I found my feet again? Where would I be today without those who continue to offer me support and guidance? I have encountered people who somehow bring light, and I have wondered what makes them shine so brightly. But are those who help me, those who show me love, somehow more worthy in the eyes of God than those who are indifferent, or may even hurt me in their fear and brokenness? I don't think so. Taking a less personal approach, is a bishop a better person than someone who works at a supermarket? Is a hardworking father who pays his taxes, donates to charity, spends time with his family and volunteers at his local church somehow more Godly, more valuable, than the homeless, frightened refugee who sneaks in halfway through the service to pocket as many biscuits as she can before the wardens notice? No! All these are made in the image of God. All these are God's dearly-beloved children.
I attempt to serve others not because I wish to influence them into thinking or behaving more like I do, but because I love them, or because even if I cannot find it in myself to love them I believe that God loves them. I am human and this is complicated and difficult but I do try to eliminate in myself any expectation of reward for this: love does not entrap.
I pray, not so that others might see or know of me praying and feel that they should too, but because I have something to say to God (usually "Help!" or "Thanks!" or "I don't understand!" or "I love you!") and I believe God just might have something to say back, if I can but listen. I sometimes delight in praying together with others and sometimes find it difficult, but my prayers are prayers, not some sort of social propaganda.
I write and play music as part of service to others but also so that God might hear it, and so that others might explore their faith through music as I have done, or if they so wish, join me in the most authentic form of prayer available to me. As a musician involved in church liturgy I do hope that others will use music as a route to worship and prayer, and I aim to facilitate that, but never to force it. As a teacher I try to give people the tools of my art, to empower them to find their own creative voice, but I know full well that I cannot make anyone choose what to do with those tools or whether to use them.
I sing of my sorrows and joys, frustrations and triumphs, struggles and wonders, complaints and gratitude. I sing my confusion and pain, and my love and praise, not to change others to do my will, but to reconcile my human will to God's divine love and mercy, justice and majesty.
"Natural" wonders, created artwork, and the love we can feel for one another -- these are all precious gifts from God, and they are to be valued and cherished. To my mind, using them with the intent of manipulating others to be more like ourselves is not worshipful, but idolatrous.
Showing posts with label evangelism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label evangelism. Show all posts
Thursday, 4 February 2010
Monday, 28 December 2009
Outward signs
I've been thinking about this one for a while.
When I was actively avoiding anything to do with Christianity -- remember there was around a decade of this -- it was easy to feel inundated by it. Frankly, I find it hard to have much sympathy for people who feel Christianity is becoming a minority faith, pushed to the sidelines. Just try keeping a faith where all the religious holidays mean you have to take time out of your allocated holiday, rather than having convenient Bank Holidays to help out with the major ones. Try having your strictly-kept Sabbath a day earlier than that of the established religion and finding that some of your local shops don't open on your other weekend day because of Sunday trading laws. The "secular" world in this country is still very Christian, from the perspective of anyone trying to follow Jewish law. And while I think changing public service adverts so that they don't have the word "Christmas" in is rather silly, I find the assumption that everyone is Christian very grating, too.
My experience of Christianity growing up was not the worst I have heard of, but it did lack the space for me to ask questions. My exposure to people who talked about their faith anywhere other than at church was limited to those who were quite evangelical in a "going around trying to save people" sort of way.
Something I've noticed recently is that my reactions have changed.
There was a time when seeing various Christian posters and advertisements -- you know the ones, they come in varying degrees of fundamentalism but tend to contain a passage from scripture and seem to be meant to encourage people to convert -- made me feel hounded or shouted at. Now I'm a lot calmer, and sometimes even take some comfort from the passages quoted.
There was a time when seeing someone wearing a cross or crucifix around their neck would make me feel quite uncomfortable, quite wary of that person. That was certainly a prejudiced reaction on my part, but one based on my previous experiences. Seeing someone wearing overtly Christian jewelery made me feel I had to brace myself for the possible barrage of being told what I ought or ought not do to be saved. I felt defensive. Again, I'm now a lot calmer; when I see someone wearing Christian jewelery, even the "let's go convert heathens!" fish, I mostly take comfort from the idea that this is someone trying to follow a set of values, someone trying to be kind and do what is right, and they may not always have the same interpretations as I do but at least they're trying. Or sometimes the cynic in me despairs that they may only be wearing a cross because it's fashionable.
The odd thing is that I've never much had trouble with clergy wandering around in collars, cassocks or whatever else their particular tradition asks that they wear. I suppose my stepdad being both clergy and in the military got me accustomed to the idea of "uniform" pretty early. As a musician, too, there are specific and distinctive working clothes I'm expected to wear on some occasions. But jewelery, bumper stickers, posters... these all seem optional, and when I was avoiding Christianity I found them intrusive and threatening because of the implied criticism I imagined they carried, the perception on my part that anyone who subscribed to this faith would set out to convert me.
I don't wear much jewelery myself. For several years I had a necklace an ex-boyfriend had given me, and I wore it always; eventually it broke and was lost. As a teenager I had a series of very simple rings, always for the middle finger of my left hand, but these too broke or were lost. I have a pearl necklace my mother gave me, a pendant and chain Intrepid Anthropologist gave me for a graduation gift, and a lovely glass snake that Sweetie gave me; I don't wear the first two often because they seem too special for every day, and I don't wear the third because I don't have an appropriate chain for it. My ears were pierced when I was 11 but it is several years since I even owned a pair of earrings; my skin tends to be quite sensitive so I had to stop wearing the earrings I had.
I've been thinking I'd quite like to wear something which reminds me of God... something I can wear all day most days, which I can feel, something symbolic... but I don't necessarily want it to be something which will mark me out as Christian. Why not? Well, partly because of my own experiences of feeling defensive. I don't want anyone to feel that way around me and I realise that many people would, including some of my students. But it's also because I still balk at labels, I still balk at being called Christian -- not only because I do not wish to be associated with the more harmful interpretations of Christianity, but because representing Christ on earth is a huge task, one at which I would almost certainly fail. I don't want to be associated with the negative aspects of Christianity, but I also don't want Christianity to be stuck with my mistakes. When I forget myself and act unkindly, when I am tired and make poor spending choices, when I am selfish -- I don't want the stranger on the street to lump that in with Christianity.
I can think of a few different symbols that will mean something to me but aren't so overtly Christian as to cause anyone any distress. There's no rush.
But I don't know whether this shyness on my part is right. I don't know whether my reluctance to label myself "Christian" despite increasing involvement with the Church is right. I don't know whether my reticence to identify my faith in a public and outward way is a symptom of fear, in a society which increasingly derides all theist religion and expects people to parcel up their faith and keep it private, or whether it is in keeping with the respect for others' experiences and beliefs that I value so much.
When I was actively avoiding anything to do with Christianity -- remember there was around a decade of this -- it was easy to feel inundated by it. Frankly, I find it hard to have much sympathy for people who feel Christianity is becoming a minority faith, pushed to the sidelines. Just try keeping a faith where all the religious holidays mean you have to take time out of your allocated holiday, rather than having convenient Bank Holidays to help out with the major ones. Try having your strictly-kept Sabbath a day earlier than that of the established religion and finding that some of your local shops don't open on your other weekend day because of Sunday trading laws. The "secular" world in this country is still very Christian, from the perspective of anyone trying to follow Jewish law. And while I think changing public service adverts so that they don't have the word "Christmas" in is rather silly, I find the assumption that everyone is Christian very grating, too.
My experience of Christianity growing up was not the worst I have heard of, but it did lack the space for me to ask questions. My exposure to people who talked about their faith anywhere other than at church was limited to those who were quite evangelical in a "going around trying to save people" sort of way.
Something I've noticed recently is that my reactions have changed.
There was a time when seeing various Christian posters and advertisements -- you know the ones, they come in varying degrees of fundamentalism but tend to contain a passage from scripture and seem to be meant to encourage people to convert -- made me feel hounded or shouted at. Now I'm a lot calmer, and sometimes even take some comfort from the passages quoted.
There was a time when seeing someone wearing a cross or crucifix around their neck would make me feel quite uncomfortable, quite wary of that person. That was certainly a prejudiced reaction on my part, but one based on my previous experiences. Seeing someone wearing overtly Christian jewelery made me feel I had to brace myself for the possible barrage of being told what I ought or ought not do to be saved. I felt defensive. Again, I'm now a lot calmer; when I see someone wearing Christian jewelery, even the "let's go convert heathens!" fish, I mostly take comfort from the idea that this is someone trying to follow a set of values, someone trying to be kind and do what is right, and they may not always have the same interpretations as I do but at least they're trying. Or sometimes the cynic in me despairs that they may only be wearing a cross because it's fashionable.
The odd thing is that I've never much had trouble with clergy wandering around in collars, cassocks or whatever else their particular tradition asks that they wear. I suppose my stepdad being both clergy and in the military got me accustomed to the idea of "uniform" pretty early. As a musician, too, there are specific and distinctive working clothes I'm expected to wear on some occasions. But jewelery, bumper stickers, posters... these all seem optional, and when I was avoiding Christianity I found them intrusive and threatening because of the implied criticism I imagined they carried, the perception on my part that anyone who subscribed to this faith would set out to convert me.
I don't wear much jewelery myself. For several years I had a necklace an ex-boyfriend had given me, and I wore it always; eventually it broke and was lost. As a teenager I had a series of very simple rings, always for the middle finger of my left hand, but these too broke or were lost. I have a pearl necklace my mother gave me, a pendant and chain Intrepid Anthropologist gave me for a graduation gift, and a lovely glass snake that Sweetie gave me; I don't wear the first two often because they seem too special for every day, and I don't wear the third because I don't have an appropriate chain for it. My ears were pierced when I was 11 but it is several years since I even owned a pair of earrings; my skin tends to be quite sensitive so I had to stop wearing the earrings I had.
I've been thinking I'd quite like to wear something which reminds me of God... something I can wear all day most days, which I can feel, something symbolic... but I don't necessarily want it to be something which will mark me out as Christian. Why not? Well, partly because of my own experiences of feeling defensive. I don't want anyone to feel that way around me and I realise that many people would, including some of my students. But it's also because I still balk at labels, I still balk at being called Christian -- not only because I do not wish to be associated with the more harmful interpretations of Christianity, but because representing Christ on earth is a huge task, one at which I would almost certainly fail. I don't want to be associated with the negative aspects of Christianity, but I also don't want Christianity to be stuck with my mistakes. When I forget myself and act unkindly, when I am tired and make poor spending choices, when I am selfish -- I don't want the stranger on the street to lump that in with Christianity.
I can think of a few different symbols that will mean something to me but aren't so overtly Christian as to cause anyone any distress. There's no rush.
But I don't know whether this shyness on my part is right. I don't know whether my reluctance to label myself "Christian" despite increasing involvement with the Church is right. I don't know whether my reticence to identify my faith in a public and outward way is a symptom of fear, in a society which increasingly derides all theist religion and expects people to parcel up their faith and keep it private, or whether it is in keeping with the respect for others' experiences and beliefs that I value so much.
Sunday, 21 June 2009
What would you take with you?
I wrote a little about changes in the church, here, a while ago.
There's a wonderful conversation going on over at Leave It Lay, all about what the church is and should be and where it is going. Great stuff! And in the comments there, people have started talking about a journey, and what trappings of 'church' as it is now they would take with them on that journey.
I don't consider myself part of the small-c church, the church as humans see it, because I don't say the Apostles' Creed and I don't take communion. I don't know whether I'm part of the Church as God sees it; I leave that judgement to the only One who can judge these things.
All the same, here's what I would take with me:
I would take the best of the church-run homeless shelters, the ones that don't try to dish up doctrine with dinner but just focus on making sure those who need it have a place to sleep and a meal. I would take the interest-free community loans that can sometimes stop people becoming homeless in the first place. I would take the coffee mornings, the visiting schemes, the support groups. I would take all of these examples of the church unconditionally loving and endlessly serving the wider world.
If I had lots of space I would take the Daily Office, which seems to be necessary for some people... it's certainly a part of my life in ways I hadn't imagined. I'd take Choral Evensong, I'd take every sort of sung psalmody I can find. I'd pack some Eucharistic services, because although I myself don't partake (more out of respect for a human institution than anything else, at this point) I recognise that that is, for most of you, important, far more important than the words and music are.
But I think that the Church exists to spread the Gospel, I think the Church and people in the Church spread the Gospel by living it, and I think all the trappings of liturgy and ritual and prayer and what we call sacrament--the candles and canticles, the incense and the oil, the bread and the wine--exist to enable us to live it better, and to respond to it with praise. And if the Gospel, if the news we have to spread, is that God loves us, the only way to live that is to rejoice in loving one another. I'd pack anything that helps us do that, and I'd jettison anything that acts as a barrier.
Maybe that's simplistic, but it's absolutely fundamental to my approach to this faith or any other. Why yes, I am a big old hippie.
If I didn't have room for much, I'd take the Summary of Law (to remind me what to do) and the Lord's Prayer (to help me be able to do it) and start again from those.
There's a wonderful conversation going on over at Leave It Lay, all about what the church is and should be and where it is going. Great stuff! And in the comments there, people have started talking about a journey, and what trappings of 'church' as it is now they would take with them on that journey.
I don't consider myself part of the small-c church, the church as humans see it, because I don't say the Apostles' Creed and I don't take communion. I don't know whether I'm part of the Church as God sees it; I leave that judgement to the only One who can judge these things.
All the same, here's what I would take with me:
I would take the best of the church-run homeless shelters, the ones that don't try to dish up doctrine with dinner but just focus on making sure those who need it have a place to sleep and a meal. I would take the interest-free community loans that can sometimes stop people becoming homeless in the first place. I would take the coffee mornings, the visiting schemes, the support groups. I would take all of these examples of the church unconditionally loving and endlessly serving the wider world.
If I had lots of space I would take the Daily Office, which seems to be necessary for some people... it's certainly a part of my life in ways I hadn't imagined. I'd take Choral Evensong, I'd take every sort of sung psalmody I can find. I'd pack some Eucharistic services, because although I myself don't partake (more out of respect for a human institution than anything else, at this point) I recognise that that is, for most of you, important, far more important than the words and music are.
But I think that the Church exists to spread the Gospel, I think the Church and people in the Church spread the Gospel by living it, and I think all the trappings of liturgy and ritual and prayer and what we call sacrament--the candles and canticles, the incense and the oil, the bread and the wine--exist to enable us to live it better, and to respond to it with praise. And if the Gospel, if the news we have to spread, is that God loves us, the only way to live that is to rejoice in loving one another. I'd pack anything that helps us do that, and I'd jettison anything that acts as a barrier.
Maybe that's simplistic, but it's absolutely fundamental to my approach to this faith or any other. Why yes, I am a big old hippie.
If I didn't have room for much, I'd take the Summary of Law (to remind me what to do) and the Lord's Prayer (to help me be able to do it) and start again from those.
Thursday, 16 April 2009
On Evangelism
Various people say that Christianity is on the verge of extinction in Europe. Hat tip to TitusOneNine for the link.
I'm a bit bemused by the amount of "Oh noes, Christianity is on the way out!" alarmism that I see, especially in England. When I was observing Judaism it certainly didn't feel like that. If you think it is difficult to practise Christianity in this country, try a faith with much more ritual: it gets hard quite quickly. Try a faith with a different calendar and you'll be left in no doubt as to whether the customs of this country stem from Christian traditions.
I do think that one thing that is happening is that people are no longer defaulting to being church-going Christians. A lot of people are disillusioned with the Church for one reason or another. They're exploring other faiths. They've realised they don't need to go to church for social or community reasons, so they don't. If not having a large portion of the population going to church just because that's what you do, isn't it? means a decline in Christianity, then I suppose that's true enough--but I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, and I don't know for sure that it's actually a decline in Christiantiy as I might define it. Are a bunch of people mumbling through the Apostles' Creed without thinking about what they're saying actually Christian? I suppose, yet again, it depends who you ask.
Much is being made of change in worship format, much is being made of deliberate evangelism. That's not necessarily a bad thing. But I think we need to be careful.
Changing worship formats too much can alienate those people who have stuck with church even though it seems less relevant; it can turn away those who need the consistency and familiarity of tradition. I think it's important to be sensitive to that. I know it's partly a result of my musical training, I know I'm a bit of sad geek in some ways, but I'm 28 years old and I'm far more likely to want to go to a traditional choral Evensong than to any 'rave in the nave', especially if the latter has been arranged by people who clearly have no idea what is actually relevant to "young folks" today.
Direct evangelism simply makes me squirm, in most cases. Someone telling me I'm not saved is not going to get me to go to church, folks. Someone telling me that Christianity is the only true path to God is not going to get me to go to church and it is not going to get me to believe that God is loving. Someone telling me about resurrection and eternal life when I'm not ready to hear it is going to make me run screaming away. It's not that simple, and trying to present it as such is unlikely to be effective to a generation that is asking questions. Combine that with contrived, happy-clappy worship patterns that haven't stood the test of time, and the unfortunate tendency of evangelical activity to lead to a sort of sickly-sweet cliqueyness, and as far as I'm concerned you're creating obstacles.
What has got me going to church again, and interested in Christianity again after about a decade, has been the lovingkindness with which I have seen some people act. Being on the receiving end of unconditional acceptance, care, and yes, love, is a very powerful experience. Having an open invitation without expectation is a very powerful experience. The idea that I might pass on some of what I have received, the idea that I might be part of bringing about heaven on earth, is extremely compelling. Nobody has forced me to go to church, nobody has forced me to use Christian prayer structures, certainly nobody has forced me to think about Christian theology, and yet for me to turn around and start going another direction now would require active effort on my part.
The Church as an institution has less political power than it once did, less social power than it once did. I don't propose that this should change: I think it will just have to get used to not having the privileges that are often assigned to the default majority. But I don't think it will be extinct, I don't think it will be extinguished--not while there are people within the Church who are committed to working for the good of all humanity, people who consistently take responsibility for showing the whole world the abundant love of God.
I think evangelism that seeks to convert or save people rather than to love and serve them is rather misplaced.
I'm a bit bemused by the amount of "Oh noes, Christianity is on the way out!" alarmism that I see, especially in England. When I was observing Judaism it certainly didn't feel like that. If you think it is difficult to practise Christianity in this country, try a faith with much more ritual: it gets hard quite quickly. Try a faith with a different calendar and you'll be left in no doubt as to whether the customs of this country stem from Christian traditions.
I do think that one thing that is happening is that people are no longer defaulting to being church-going Christians. A lot of people are disillusioned with the Church for one reason or another. They're exploring other faiths. They've realised they don't need to go to church for social or community reasons, so they don't. If not having a large portion of the population going to church just because that's what you do, isn't it? means a decline in Christianity, then I suppose that's true enough--but I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, and I don't know for sure that it's actually a decline in Christiantiy as I might define it. Are a bunch of people mumbling through the Apostles' Creed without thinking about what they're saying actually Christian? I suppose, yet again, it depends who you ask.
Much is being made of change in worship format, much is being made of deliberate evangelism. That's not necessarily a bad thing. But I think we need to be careful.
Changing worship formats too much can alienate those people who have stuck with church even though it seems less relevant; it can turn away those who need the consistency and familiarity of tradition. I think it's important to be sensitive to that. I know it's partly a result of my musical training, I know I'm a bit of sad geek in some ways, but I'm 28 years old and I'm far more likely to want to go to a traditional choral Evensong than to any 'rave in the nave', especially if the latter has been arranged by people who clearly have no idea what is actually relevant to "young folks" today.
Direct evangelism simply makes me squirm, in most cases. Someone telling me I'm not saved is not going to get me to go to church, folks. Someone telling me that Christianity is the only true path to God is not going to get me to go to church and it is not going to get me to believe that God is loving. Someone telling me about resurrection and eternal life when I'm not ready to hear it is going to make me run screaming away. It's not that simple, and trying to present it as such is unlikely to be effective to a generation that is asking questions. Combine that with contrived, happy-clappy worship patterns that haven't stood the test of time, and the unfortunate tendency of evangelical activity to lead to a sort of sickly-sweet cliqueyness, and as far as I'm concerned you're creating obstacles.
What has got me going to church again, and interested in Christianity again after about a decade, has been the lovingkindness with which I have seen some people act. Being on the receiving end of unconditional acceptance, care, and yes, love, is a very powerful experience. Having an open invitation without expectation is a very powerful experience. The idea that I might pass on some of what I have received, the idea that I might be part of bringing about heaven on earth, is extremely compelling. Nobody has forced me to go to church, nobody has forced me to use Christian prayer structures, certainly nobody has forced me to think about Christian theology, and yet for me to turn around and start going another direction now would require active effort on my part.
The Church as an institution has less political power than it once did, less social power than it once did. I don't propose that this should change: I think it will just have to get used to not having the privileges that are often assigned to the default majority. But I don't think it will be extinct, I don't think it will be extinguished--not while there are people within the Church who are committed to working for the good of all humanity, people who consistently take responsibility for showing the whole world the abundant love of God.
I think evangelism that seeks to convert or save people rather than to love and serve them is rather misplaced.
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