Archive for the author ·

Pierre

·...

6 ways to avoid doing the intercessions

no comments

Church services usually include times of prayer, where someone will come to the front and make a few petitions. In liturgical settings, there will be a call and response such as “Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer”; in more charismatic settings, there will simply be shouts of “Amen!” coming from the congregation.

These prayers of thanksgiving and of petition for the world can be more formulaic than liturgy. Some churches recommend that they follow a pattern: pray for the world, for the church, for potential mission partners, for the Queen, for local leaders, etc. While such guidance is useful, it can lead to intercessions becoming a checklist.

intercessions

Background photo: Ben Harris, reused under CC license

When it turns into something that has to be “done”, it also turns, for the congregation, as something that has to be gone through. The perverse effect can be that, on top of making intercessory prayer something deeply unattractive, “doing” the intercessions will mean, for some in the congregation and maybe even for the person doing them, that chore is done for the week ahead.

I believe intercessory prayer is something deeply personal, because it must come from the heart.

So, should we stop having a time for intercessions at church? By no means! But rather than “doing” intercessions, whoever’s in charge should lead the congregation into intercessory prayer. This means:

  • being aware of this. When you’re leading the intercessions, you’re not in charge of interceding on behalf of the whole church. If there are bits you forget, then it’s not the end of the world.
  • slowing down. Prayer is not an exercise in wordiness (nor is it one in brevity). But by slowing down, you are giving the congregation the opportunity to take in the prayer and make it their own.
  • not being afraid of silence. In pauses, people can think of specific situations or people that they wish to pray for personally.
  • being explicit about the congregation’s role. This can be done through more or less explicit instructions (“As we call to mind …”), through the use of call and response, etc.
  • prayerful preparation. We do not know how to pray as we ought – that’s a given. And rambling prayers are good prayers, but they’re unlikely to lead others into prayer.
  • realising that there is a movement in intercessory prayer. Particularly, if intercessory prayer is an alignment of our will with God’s will, then contemplating God at the start explicitly can help.

If you’re not called to lead intercession (and if you are, too!), I’d also like to encourage you to re-read these points: when the leader should give opportunities, you should take them. Maybe, even if someone is doing the intercessions rather than leading you into them, you can then still participate.

Stop doing the intercessions. Start leading people into intercession.

A graduation

2 comments

Last week, somewhere around 4,000 students graduated from Warwick University. At the same time, I know a few people who are moving on from their current place of work to a different place of work when the new academic year starts. It so happens that I belong to both groups of people. After 4 years in a PhD programme, and 8 years at Warwick university, this period of my life is finally over, marked in pomp and circumstance in a ceremony where I got to wear a silly hat. (James, if you’re reading this, it’s a bonnet, not a beret)

graduation

It could feel like the end of an era. 8 years are, after all, a long time. But that feeling – like a new chapter was about to begin – happened last year, when I plunged into the real world and became a teacher. That’s when I was worried and upset about closing a chapter of my life – because that felt like losing part of my identity. If you’re at this stage, I can only recommend reading these three previous blog posts (given in chronological order):

  • A New Chapter – to state clearly that this is not the end of an era, not the loss of your identity, and that the change in the seasons of life is simply natural.
  • A life lost for a life gained – to nuance the bold statements of the previous post and point out the continuity in the traits of your identity.
  • Transitions – to round it all off and look firmly towards the future, towards the new chapter.

After three posts on the topic, you may wonder why I bother writing yet another one, or what more can be said about changes, but bear with me.

There is a stark difference between this graduation and what I felt – the fear of the unknown, of losing my identity etc. – when I actually moved. Beyond the hindsight that everything turned out for the best, I also realise something I hadn’t at that stage.

I have momentum.

That is to say, I am not stopping everything and starting something wholly different. I have practices, ways of living and ways of dealing with situations that I am inheriting from my degree.  More importantly, I have a direction. I have a fundamental feeling for where I’m going; that was nurtured in my years at Warwick and beyond.

This momentum is not decreasing, on the contrary. Even though I am changing schools come September, I am keeping the same direction. Yes, there may be obstacles that will slow down the implementation of this (getting to know the new staff, etc.) but they are not changing the direction in which I wish to go, nor my determination towards it.

In addition to momentum, I have rooting.

I am keeping in touch with people at Warwick. In doing so, I realise that some of the things that came naturally at Warwick were actually deliberate, if subconscious acts, that I can keep on doing wherever I go. This rooting fuels my momentum.

Sadly, I can’t keep in touch with everyone I have met, and I am missing a fair amount of people, including most of my students. But the memories I have of these people also remind me of both successes and failures, and keep me looking forward (cue song from Oz)

With both momentum and rooting, this graduation ceremony is neither the closing of a book, nor the opening of a new one. It is simply a gateway I went through: with speed that is essential to keep on going afterwards, with footprints left behind and with dust on my feet.

And so to all of you who graduate or are changing jobs or situations: it is also simply a gateway.

God the Father

no comments

A few weeks back, it was Trinity Sunday, also known as the occasion for heretical analogies. It is extremely difficult to grasp, intellectually, how one God can be three persons, and all the analogies that I know are flawed in some respect. This hilarious video points some of them out. Before going any further into the topic of the Trinity, I should point out that, in matters such as this (the mysteries of faith), we shouldn’t ever expect to fully understand; however, this does not mean we should not keep contemplating it. Indeed, as we do, we get closer and closer to God, in our understanding and in our lives. But as we do, we should not try to explain the Trinity, as though it were something we can grasp fully; rather, we should try to describe it.

trinity

Painting in the public domain (full image on Wikimedia)

There are three persons (three “hypostases”): the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. A lot of our worship focuses on the Son (with the help of the Holy Spirit), and it is Christ we’re following. And so we focus more on the Son, and end up neglecting the other persons of the Trinity. While we tend to be aware that we don’t know that well how to picture the Holy Spirit, the same does not necessarily hold for God the Father. Yet, who is He?

There are three things to know about God the Father:

1. He is indescribable. Saying it right off the bat actually relieves the pressure, as we know we can’t reach the perfect description. He is greater than all of creation, and even if we had measured the mountains and the seas, we could not describe Him.

2. He cares for us, even though we are nothing before Him. This, in turn, implies two things: as our actions are naught too before Him, that this caring love is not dependent on what we do. Secondly, that His promise is greater than anything we could achieve ourselves. He will make us soar on wings like eagles.

3. We are called to be His children and to behave as such. This call to action is not one of obligation, but a mere expression of our identity as loved children of God the Father.

You can listen to the sermon, which (like the above summarising points) is based on Isaiah 40 and Matthew 28, by using the player below, or you can download the audio or read the sermon notes.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Continuous discernment

no comments

A while ago, I described my calling to ordained ministry. I explained how, through prayer and conversation with close friends and a variety of Elis, I gained assurance in that calling – to the point that I have stopped questioning it.

I also explained that I did not have a clear picture of the particulars of my future ministry, and that, at one time, I did struggle with this lack of clarity. Whilst the shape my ministry is to take is not much clearer, though, I have found that I was okay with that.

And so, trusting in my calling to the ministry, I ploughed on. I set my sights on this end goal, and worked towards it. I preached a few sermons. I got involved in a variety of ministries. I picked the liturgy for a service. In short, I’ve been busy. And since I started down this path, I have thought that doing this work was obeying God, because it was pursuing the calling I felt.

continuousdiscernment

Photo: Vladimir Kramer, public domain(Unsplash)

I still think this is true: I still think that it is extremely important to follow my calling, and to do everything that I can to fulfill it. But I fear that, in focusing on this, I have separated my calling from God. It has become “something to achieve”, for the glory of Christ, yes, but first and foremost an end in itself. So I was concentrating on my personal future, at the expense of both my present actions and the greater picture.

It is especially easy to fall into this trap when the vocation we follow is somehow religious. If the calling we pursue is secular (and let me stress here that secular callings are just as worthy as religious callings), then we don’t risk much to mistake it for its source. For better or for worse, the working out of a secular vocation will always be slightly distinct from religious activity, no matter how pervasive our faith is. But if the calling is a calling to a religious role, then it is easy to set the fulfillment of that call as the primary purpose of all our doings  – religious and secular. Therefore, focusing on what we are called to rather than on the one who is calling us has particularly far-reaching consequences in the case of religious vocations.

This is why we need discernment, continuously. Even when we think we got it all figured out – what ministry we are called to, and a five-year plan to get there. Not because we necessarily need to further fine-tune this five-year plan, but because of what discernment means: constantly looking to God, and constantly being reminded that He is greater than the vocation we feel called to. Not because we doubt our vocation, but because God is present throughout our calling, not just at its end; and because we cannot reach this end on our own.

Let us not believe that we can sort out our vocation entirely; but let us, instead, turn to and trust in God for everything, including our calling and its fulfillment.

A Tale of Two Congregations

2 comments

In a growing church, there once were two congregations, each of them thriving in its own way. The building could have accommodated both groups at once – in fact, there were sometimes joint services. But you couldn’t have that too often. Oh, no: the styles of worship were too different. The late morning group was quite pedantic about following proper liturgy and was used to smells and bells; but the early morning group was of the happy clappy persuasion. And let’s not talk about the evening service, designed for those who couldn’t or wouldn’t get up early on a Sunday. After all, it is meant to be a day off, right?

taleoftwoPhoto credits: Wikimedia users Rafael Faria and Luis Miguel Bugallo Sánchez, used under CC license

And so joint services, when they happened, were a matter of compromise: we’ll have some modern music, but we’ll also read off Common Worship. And we’ll robe up, but we won’t use the kneelers for communion. Elements for the high church congregation, elements to give a spiritual high to the late morning group. And while everyone could see the other group needed to be accommodated in joint services, it didn’t mean they liked it. Or that they could engage with worship very well.

While each congregation was left to enjoy its particular way of worship, they experimented more and more into each direction, until visitors would believe there were two different churches meeting in the same building.

It is easy – relatively speaking – to satisfy the expectations of a congregation in terms of how the service is ordered, when those expectations are broadly similar across the board. It is even easier to avoid the particular tidbits that you know will annoy a specific individual within your congregation – for instance, blacklisting a hymn on non-theological considerations. We don’t sing about the wrath of God because so and so doesn’t like it and will kick up a fuss if we do.

It is much harder to satisfy the expectations of a mixed congregation.

But if that’s what we’re trying to do, our focus is wrong: it’s a primary focus on the congregation. Of course, the congregation is important, but what matters more is who we worship. Hopefully, this is a given and the purpose of the services and the ways in which they are ordered all point to that; but where disagreements arise, they lead to the largest headaches and end up, inevitably, becoming the focus of attention. Instead of Christ. The same Christ, who is both fully human and fully divine, is not a compromise between humanity and divinity. He is not taking this part of humanity at the expense of that one, he is not accepting this attribute of divinity at the expense of another one. He is both at once, in a kiss between heaven and earth.

If we can accept this meeting place, then our services can also reflect that. We can order a service drawing elements from both styles of worship – not in order to try to please both, but in order to enrich our worship of Christ. Not in order to be inclusive, but in order to reflect this joining of the human and the divine.

Then, it won’t matter whether it’s more high or more low church. The joint service will be a celebration of the diversity of God’s people, meeting together as Christ’s body, and becoming fully high and fully low at the same time. And slowly, all services will be joint services, and the unity of the Church will be made visible.

Of course, this is easier said than done. There are specific rules that should be followed for high church services under canon law (as far as I know, but do correct me if I’m wrong), and until there is a change in how we view Common Worship and other ASBs, it will not be possible to incorporate elements from all congregations in a meaningful way.