Historical Liturgy at the Mega Level
We read the Nicene Creed together. Yeah, was not expecting that.
According to the Sunday Night service’s website,
“The gatherings at New Life Sunday Night demonstrate our desire to be rooted in history while making room for mystery in our faith and worship. Each week in worship, we seek to engage God with our whole being through modern worship expressions and historic practices. . . . There are several reasons for incorporating liturgical elements into our worship. The most significant reason is that a rhythm is how we reinforce a desire. For example, because we have a desire to have healthy teeth and gums, we have developed a rhythm of brushing our teeth daily. Or because a husband and wife have a desire to keep their relationship strong they might develop a rhythm of “date nights”. So, in a similar way, because we have a desire to grow up in our faith, we develop rhythms in our worship that helps us pay attention to God and His work in us. ”
The website also explains that the repetition of the liturgy is a very effective way to combat our obsession with novelty and the need to feel constantly active. Repetition of the liturgy forces us to slow down and be contemplative. Rev. Aaron Stern would later elaborate in his sermon that, while most nondenominational churches do not use traditional liturgy, New Life seeks to affirm that the creeds and prayers are not dead or archaic; rather, they are profound and rich, and there is good reason that they have stood the test of time. Aaron also explained that the church isn’t just falling into some cool, retro fad; they’re shunning spontaneity as being slightly arrogant and seeking to let God lead them through words written in the earliest days of the church.
Whoa. A church that is simultaneously hyper-contemporary and hyper-traditional without feeling schizophrenic-- I have never seen anything like that. I’m not saying it’s good or bad; I’m just saying it’s unlike any approach I’ve ever seen. As big as we are into the nonproductive repetition of the liturgy (to use the official jargon), I think Duke Div needs to have field trips to this service. Again, let me repeat:
A nondenominational, ultra-trendy, contemporary megachurch without a soul over 40 is a staunch advocate of traditional liturgy.
I’m still processing that.
We collected the offering in plastic buckets, and then a younger guy named Matt and his little sister Lauren came up to read the Scripture. Matt noted with humor that he was reading the Psalm off of his iPhone:
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.
Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.
Deliver me from bloodshed, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance.
O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.
For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.
The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.
(Psalm 51:10-17)
Even though we all shared a laugh over the iPhone thing, Lauren read the epistle reading from a traditional Bible: “Since, then, we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:14-16) Both readings were followed up with the standard: “The Word of God for the People of God,” with the traditional congregational response of “Thanks be to God.” Again, I was pleasantly surprised by New Life’s high liturgy.
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| Rev. Aaron Sterns (all New Life staff get headshots) |
Aaron Stern is New Life’s pastor to college students and 20-somethings, and at 38 years old, he has been a member of New Life since age 12. I did a little math right there in the service:
38 2011
- 12 and - 1984
26 27
New Life was started in 1984, and Aaron said that he had only just had his 38th birthday, so that puts him joining the church within its first two years of existence. This guy was a lifer, and he had experienced the church’s entire history firsthand. Yep, he had experienced the church’s whole history, and now he was going to be preaching on confession. Uh oh. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Surely he wouldn’t mention that confession, right? I mean, that’s got to be a major taboo at New Life, right? Honestly, I had had my fill of Ted Haggard for one day, so I kept my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t bring it up. Of course, since Aaron actually wrote a book on confession, I’m sure he had plenty of other subject matter from which to draw. Clad in attire quite similar to my own (slightly-ratty untucked dress shirt, jeans, and what appeared to be Converse All-Stars from where I was sitting toward the back), Aaron’s demeanor was very casual, and the unrehearsed feel of his sermon helped keep the atmosphere conversational even if he wasn’t as dynamic as some of the other preachers I’ve heard this summer.
Aaron explained that the image of the traditional confession booth at the back of a church is a little misleading, as confession booths in this style were not actually introduced until the eve of the Protestant Reformation. Confession had existed previously, but over the years, it had become attached to penance, and eventually, it also became tied to indulgences. While the Reformation sought to rid the church of mediator-priests and instill a notion of all believers’ direct connections to God, Aaron suggested that perhaps it also did the Protestant church a disservice by ridding us of confession. “Have we become a community of secret keepers?” Using language similar to the light and dark seen in John’s gospel, Aaron explained that secrets have a way of growing in the dark and must be exposed to the light so that they may be dissipated. He did throw out a little comment about secret keepers at high levels in our society: “We know of pastors who have had secrets, and also CEOs and politicians.” There were no murmurs or whispers at this remark, but I took it to be a reference to New Life’s earlier history that went mostly unnoticed by the Sunday evening crowd.
Aaron mentioned that confession brings healing and that repentance is the heart of spiritual formation. Regular confession enables us to move away from analyzing our sinful actions and to go deeper into analyzing our sinful mindsets and the fears that drive them. Confession is a way to acknowledge inadequacy and to enforce humility. It is a recognition that we are a needy people in need of God’s mercy. Aaron also explained that the most important part of confession is not so much our action, but Christ’s reaction, as confession enables us not just to feel conviction, but also to experience grace. Of course, the problem with confession in our society is that we tend to be so strength-fixated, and Aaron criticized this by alluding to Paul’s comment, “In my weakness, He is strong.” There is a need to reshape our view of the world so that we can treasure what it means to be weak and to need Jesus. Aaron’s phrasing was that we need to listen for the Spirit speaking grace and mercy within us, and he evoked the Hebrews reading, saying that we can then go boldly before the throne.
But why confess as a group? As the church is one body, confessions must affect us all, and we must share in burdens and joys alike. Confession is a way to fight secrets, because secrets have a way of unhinging and fragmenting a community. Aaron mentioned Frank Warren and the “Post Secret” phenomenon as a step in the right direction, an indicator of people’s secret desire to confess all their secrets, but he also said that confessing anonymously isn’t quite what is advocated in the Bible. James 5 tells us that confessing our sins to one another is the surest way to bring healing, so why not confess a weakness to a group of people who can really lift you up and hold you accountable like a church family? Aaron encouraged not just transparency (which is just the admonition of data), but full vulnerability (which includes a surrender to others and a request for their help).
We become the secrets that we keep, so sharing a secret really means sharing ourselves. Confession to one another builds up our relationships, and to use Aaron’s words, “Relationships grow in full disclosure.” Aaron told us that there would be a time of silent confession before communion, followed by a chance to confess to one another during the communion service itself. He encouraged us to acknowledge our weakness in that time and to bring our secrets out of the darkness and into the light.
Confession and Communion
Following a time of silence and a prayer of confession (with the keyboard playing quietly behind it), we turned to our neighbors and said, “Your sins are forgiven in Jesus’ name.” Well, actually, no one said it to me. I was sitting in the back after all, and I’m going to chalk this up as another point in favor of my theory that people tend to be less outgoing in the back.
After very traditional words of institution (in keeping with the traditional liturgy of the service), we were encouraged to go to the communion stations around the room. The elements were 2” cubes of bread, and there was a ring of plastic cups with grape juice surrounding each basket, awaiting intinction. There were no ushers cueing us to go to the stations. There was no one serving or distributing the elements. We just walked up in small groups and dipped the bread. Afterwards, we were encouraged either to go to one of the prayer stations around the room to pray with a volunteer, or we could return to our seats and pray with friends and family members or whoever happened to be nearby. The band sang,
Lord, You have my heart,
And I will search for Yours
Jesus, take my life and lead me on.
And I will praise You, Lord,
And I will sing of love come down,
And as You show Your face,
We’ll see Your glory here.
A silhouette of a cross appeared on the screen as we said the Lord’s Prayer together, and we were dismissed with a simple “You’re dismissed, but feel free to stay and hang out.”
I didn’t stay and hang out for long since I wanted to get back to Pueblo and spend a little more time with my aunt and uncle (not to mention starting this write-up and maybe getting in a little skype time with a certain special someone). New Life’s focus on traditional liturgy made for a fascinating service, so even though I didn’t hear a lot about local community efforts, my Duke-acclimated curiosity was piqued. While I understand that megachurches are using small groups to stay plugged into their communities, I have to admit that there is something that’s starting to unnerve me about this model. When Aaron greeted the worshipers at New Life, he referred to them as “the Sunday evening congregation.” I wondered if perhaps it was just a slipup on his part, but it sent the message that this was a wholly separate church from the one that meets on Sunday mornings. While multiple services and small groups may be effective for growth and local outreach in the megachurch, I wonder how this affects the overall relationships within the congregation(s). Do these groups simply become their own churches after a while? What holds them together? This has given me more to ponder, but I’ve got some serious ground to cover this week before I can devote too much more time to it. In fact, this will be the longest leg of my drive-- from Colorado Springs all the way to Seattle. It’s roughly 1,500 miles through six states, and I’ve only got four days to drive it. Audiobooks and Mountain Dew, I need you now more than ever.
Peace and Blessings,
Tom
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