Years ago, when I worked as a chaplain at Central College, I had a colleague who used to get together with me regularly to pray for our students. We did so not only because we believed it would make a difference for them, but because we knew it made a difference for us. Praying for Jennifer and Scott as they worked through the pain of their parents’ divorces in anticipation of being married themselves, praying for Kim as she struggled with anorexia, with Mark as he battled addiction – these prayers helped remind us that though we are to be faithful and diligent in the ministries God has given us, in the end the sun does not rise, and the crops do not grow, and people are not made whole, and the kingdom does not come by dint of our own effort.
No, the world belongs to God. It has been entrusted to us, yes, but it is ultimately in God’s hands. What a good thing for type A people to remember every day!
I let this lesson guide our evening prayer a few weeks ago as I led worship at the hard-working General Synod of the Reformed Church in America. We decided each night to let a particular song shape and direct our evening prayers. So we would sing a verse and then let that verse prompt particular petitions and thanks. So, for example, one evening we sang verses from Bless the Lord, My Soul, the setting of Psalm 103 from Taizé. Another evening we sang four verses from All Praise to Thee, My God, This Night. But my favorite was the evening we began and ended with the old gospel favorite “He’s Got the Whole World In His Hands.”
Planning the service, I wanted to get rid of the repeated masculine pronoun, and thought to change the lyric from “He’s” and “his” to “You’ve” and “your” (a far less clunky tweak than alternating genders or using “God’s” throughout). This had the surprising – and wonderful – effect of altering the character of the song altogether. It shifted it from testimony to prayer; from speaking about God’s providence to speaking to God, rooting our petitions, both spoken and silent, in a confident declaration of God’s power and love: “You’ve got the whole world in your hands.”
Musically, I played a James Taylor-esque accompaniment (think “Secret of Life” -- Key of A, capo III), and even wrote a couple extra lines, riffing on the old hymn “Sing Praise to God who Reigns Above” as a break leading into the final chorus.
For the shape of the prayer itself, we allowed the song’s verses to suggest thematic areas for prayer (“tiny little baby” = family concerns; “wind and the rain” = creation care, etc.) I then augmented those verses, following my own advice to speak with emotional specificity for the lost and the lonely, the weak and the wounded, the whole and the hopeful.
Full text of the prayer, lead sheet (click on the thumbnail), and MP3 demo after the jump.
SUNG: You’ve got the whole world in your hands…
Gracious God, we pray today for this whole world,
created good and beautiful,
lost and broken by our sin,
loved and redeemed by you in Jesus Christ.
*** silence ***
Creation
Creator God, we bless you tonight for your care of the natural world –
for the wind and the rain,
for the sunshine and water that sustains the earth,
for the food that sustains our bodies,
for your presence that sustains our souls.
You’ve got the wind and the rain…
*** silence ***
Family
On this special day of worship and rest, we pray for our families at home –
spouses and children, grandparents and tiny little babies;
You know their particular needs…
Bring us back to those we love later this week,
sustain them in our absence, and us in theirs.
You’ve got the tiny little baby…
*** silence ***
Grief and Loss
We pray tonight for those who grieve losses,
the hurt and helpless, the lost and the lonely—
for fading friendships and the diminishment of aging,
for those mourning broken promises and crushed hopes.
We pray for the comfort of your Spirit.
You’ve got the lost and the lonely…
*** silence ***
Anxiety
We pray tonight for those who live in fear,
for the weak and the wounded--
for those who are anxious about their churches,
for those who are afraid of losing their job,
or worried about the results of medical tests;
for those who do not know, or are afraid to embrace, the work you have given them to do;
for those who never feel safe;
for those threatened by violence, cruelty, illness, poverty.
We pray for rescue, and for peace.
You’ve got the weak and the wounded…
*** silence ***
Joy
We pray tonight for those who know joy, the whole and the hopeful –
for all those who are given healing and good health;
for all those with friends and families, for satisfying work and consoling rest.
We bless you as the source of all good things
and pray that you will use us to sow and reap joy in this world.
You’ve got the whole and the hopeful…
*** silence ***
General Synod
We pray tonight for the work of General Synod and for the RCA, for everybody here.
For strength to continue our work tomorrow,
For patience and courage to really listen to what others are saying,
For discernment to hear the prompting of the Holy Spirit
For confidence in your providence,
For the particular needs each of us has…
You’ve got everybody here…
You’ve got the whole world in your hands...
Sung break: You’ve got the whole world -- sing praise to God who reigns above
The whole world -- the God of power, the God of love
You’ve got the whole world in your hands.
**********************************************************
Click on the thumbnail for the leadsheet,
and right here for a rough MP3 demo to hear what it sounds like.
Pastors’ Gathering Explores Worship Issues
Worship was the topic of Fuller’s semiannual President’s Breakfast for Pastors held Thursday, November 9, with speakers Todd Johnson and Ed Willmington, both of the Brehm Center for Worship, Theology, and the Arts. More than 100 attended the event in Payton Hall.
“What and who is our worship for? Why do we worship?” These must be central questions we ask in our churches, said Todd Johnson, the William K. and Delores S. Brehm Associate Professor of Worship, Theology and the Arts at Fuller. In his talk “Worship Choices: Going Beyond the Categories,” Johnson discussed what we can learn from early church worship history, and then went on to offer pastors some “neutral terms to help you evaluate what you are doing in your worship, and why.” Professor and author Lester Ruth offers three helpful questions we can ask, he said: First, whose story is being told in your worship—God’s story, or the individual’s story of coming to faith? Second, who do you understand your church to be when you worship—one part of the larger corporate church, or a more autonomous, homegrown congregation? And lastly, where do people find God in your church’s worship—in the Word, table, or music? It is helpful to understand who you are as a church and work to strike a balance between these different elements, Johnson said.
“A Pastoral Approach to Local Church Worship” was the topic of a second talk given by Ed Willmington, director of the Brehm Center’s Fred Bock Institute of Music. First considering how pastors and worship leaders relate to each other, Willmington emphasized the need for a strong level of trust and communication between the two. When bringing worship leaders and musicians into your church, “look past the talent—look for a servant heart,” he urged, and also noted the importance of providing spiritual support and direction to worship team members. “Who is walking alongside them?” he asked. Moving to the pastor-congregation relationship, Willmington stressed the importance of studying and preaching specifically about worship. Congregants need to understand, he said, that “worship is a verb—something you do, not something that is done to you!” Involving the congregation in worship-centered seminars and formalizing a congregational statement about worship are also helpful practices, he noted.
A time for questions and answers with both speakers followed the talks, led by Brehm Center Academic Director Clayton Schmit. “However we conduct our worship,” Schmit said in conclusion, “let us serve the One who is worthy. Then we will be on the right track.”
As we plan weekly worship here at Fuller Seminary, the worship interns and I have been talking quite a bit lately about three persistent and related problems.
The first problem is theologically inspired boredom: we are growing weary of planning and leading the same twenty minutes of “opening exercises” every week. The dominant feature of our pre-sermon worship time is a significant chunk of music interspersed with words of welcome and perhaps a prayer or two. In the past months we’ve worked hard at intentionally selecting congregational songs that have cultural breadth, theological depth, and liturgical clarity. Still, the logistics of the service (including the architectural shape of our space) leave us with a default organizational ordo with which we are increasingly uncomfortable. It is an order that feels not blessedly simple but distressingly simplistic: songs (led by a group from the right hand side), followed by a sermon (preached by a professor from the left hand side).
The other problems we’re struggling with are thematic coherence and sacramental expectation.
The seminary professors who are asked to preach each week are notoriously tardy in selecting the Scripture and theme for their sermons. Thus, the chapel staff is left to plan the preparatory worship time (singing) with no clue about what we’re preparing for. This is problematic because for some in our worshiping community, the sermon is perceived as the primary locus for encountering God. The musicians, then, feel this burden: the music we sing must serve that encounter or risk total irrelevance. Or something even worse.
For others in our community, music itself has taken on sacramental qualities. For these folks the primary means by which the gracious promises of God in Jesus Christ are made tangible and real is in congregational song. Like it or not, that is a lot of freight to haul with two guitars and three chords. We are keenly feeling the need to find a better way to manage expectations for meeting God in worship.
In response, we have begun to experiment with an alternative ordo for our weekly gatherings. It is an arrangement that better reflects the history of campus-based worship, and one for which sacramental expectations are spread out over a broader palate of liturgical actions. What we are considering, essentially, is abandoning the songs/sermon ordo in favor of a more complex, though no less mnemonic pattern. Rooted in the structure of daily prayer followed for centuries by the precursors of academics, the medieval monks, it has four parts rather than two: praise/psalm/proclamation/prayer.
Services begin with an acknowledgment of who God is, and the natural response to that knowledge, praise. Of course, praise can be fittingly expressed in a number of ways; music is just one of many options. The psalm and proclamation follow. In them we are seeking neither scriptural ground for our expressions of personal piety, nor applicatory fodder for individual exercises of Christ-like devotion. Scripture isn’t a devotional McNugget. Instead, we hope as a community in the Word to receive a God’s-eye view of universal truth, a horizon-broadening articulation of the world the way it really is: broadly broken, desperately beloved, and radically redeemed. Finally, we focus on prayer as the place where God and God’s people speak to one other, heart to heart. We do so, as far as we are able, without preconditions and without pretense.
What is so liberating about this structure is that music, along with every other art form, becomes neither absolutely central nor peripheral to worship’s purpose. In our communal worship , art is not inherent but instrumental. That is to say, both the band and the liturgists retain their positions of leadership throughout the entire service. Music—and for that matter, dance and graphic art and drama and so on—are freed to serve the liturgical purposes of each component part of the service: praise, psalm,proclamation , or prayer. Songs of praise may be fitting, along with antiphonal psalms, scriptural hymns, or musical prayers. Or none of the above. Or all. Furthermore, the sacramental burden is shared by all the portions of the service; any portion, in its own way, can help worshipers to encounter the living and triune God.
* * * * * * *
In his book on emerging or progressive Christianity, The Heart of Christianity, Marcus Borg questions whether "sin" is the best term for describing our human condition before God. His argument isn't merely theological, but liturgical: "The nearly universal liturgical element of 'confession of sin and absolution' might be replaced or complemented by a 'declaration of what ails us and God's promise to us'" (p. 170). He continues in a note: "I am not suggesting these exact words as 'liturgical headings.' I would hope more elegant phrases could be found, but I am suggesting the notion that lies behind these words" (p. 185, n. 8). Following is one attempt at more elegant phrasing for several of the images Borg mines from the Bible to describe our condition.
Confession of Blindness and Promise of Illumination
God of Light, we confess that our vision is impaired. Your presence is lost to us in the shadows of our world and the darkness of our hearts. We look, yet we do not see, blind to the daily opportunities to praise you and serve others. Restore our sight, we pray, in the name of Christ whose vision of your kingdom come, led him on the path of salvation.
God who commanded light to shine out of darkness has sent Christ as the light of the world. He remains with us in the Holy Spirit, and promises that those who seek will surely find. In Jesus Christ, our eyes are open. Amen.
Recognition of Exile and Hope of Restoration
God, alone in whom our hearts find their rest, we have awakened to find ourselves far from home. Our paths have led us away from you. We feel lonely and fear we are abandoned. Here, your word seems foreign to us, and we struggle to sing the songs of heaven. In your faithfulness, show us your presence once again, that we, too, may rejoice with all who call upon your name.
We have a good shepherd who searches for lost sheep. The Spirit of God still blows through the wilderness and prays for us. The sacred testimony gives us this hope; God delivers us in Christ. Amen.
Admission of Bondage and Words of Deliverance
Listening God, hear our cries. We are not free. We have enslaved ourselves and others to debt and despair. We are bound by vain desires, and our liberty to love is curtailed by bad habits. Our emotions hold us hostage to wrongs, real and imagined. In our bondage we are less than what you call us to be. Hear and answer us, we pray, in the name of him who came to set prisoners free.
The God of the Israelites has shown us the way of exodus. Forsaking what lies behind, we follow our liberating Lord. When we are weak in faith and strength, the Holy Spirit provides daily bread and springs of living water, that we may complete our journey in the land of promise. Thanks be to God. Amen.
I listened to a number of CCM artists recently for an article I was writing for The Hymn, and what surprised me was how often they quoted the words of well-known hymns. Jars of Clay, Kirk Franklin, Selah, DC Talk, Newsboys, all slip easily from pop vernacular into the heightened language taken directly from Isaac Watts, Charles Wesley or Fanny Crosby.
At first, I found it odd, even though I knew the work of some of them. Where does this come from? Isn't the idea of “contemporary” music to be, well, contemporary? Aren't contemporary artists supposed to be exploring a contemporary language of worship along with the contemporary musical idiom they are exploring?
There's a cynical take on this. CCM artists are putting out hymn “product” In the same way that any commercial act will produce a Christmas album. Let's face it: Christmas piety sells. A Christian audience responds, at least in part, to the familiar cadences of traditional hymnody.
But the cynical take will only take us so far. For one thing, there is a huge segment of the Christian church for whom hymns have no nostalgic connection. They were raised on contemporary pop music on their car radio, CCM on their CD players, with praise and worship music forming a large part of their worship.
It could be partly the depth and resonance that history brings. The words of historic hymn writers have survived the test of time. If you want a quick lesson on what that test means, look at an old hymnal at the hundreds of hymns. They are full of words that you could never sing today without wincing, groaning or laughing out loud. The hymns that have survived this test offer more than re-assurance and stability. In fact they are as full of the recognition of uncertainty, struggle and pain as they are of steadfast assurance. What they do is to give us perspective on our own agonies, and let us know that others have faced them before us. The cloud of witnesses still bears witness.
But I think there remains a hunger that, successful as it is, contemporary music has not been able to satisfy. That is the hunger for common song - for lack of a better word, congregational song.
At the time I was listening to CCM artists, I watched the documentary “Bob Dylan: No Direction Home.” I was amazed to watch everyone singing. And not doing live karaoke during a concert, when the lead singer pointed the mike at the audience, but sitting around actually singing a song from beginning to end. It felt very much like a worship service, secular perhaps, but still able to inspire, encourage and offer vision for that generation.
And how strange it seemed, how anachronistic. I have little nostalgia for the supposed good-old days of the sixties, but I found it interesting that the generation noted for its activism on the public front was also active in its group singing. Could it be that the two are connected. Could it be that if we are spectators in our worship, we might be also be spectators in our lives?
Hymns continue to attract us with great power, whether we are ordinary singers, or performers. Even when the sound system has been switched off, and the spotlights packed away, we can still sing a hymn together. Hymn (like folk songs) depend, not on the personalities of performers, but on our ordinary voices to bring them to life. But once we do, they offer a unique power to transform.
What do you think?