The standing desk, meet the standing church

There’s a little revolution at work. My colleagues are taking their laptops or monitors and keyboards, and are propping them on boxes and low tables to making standing desks of their ordinary chair-based models. And I might be next. It seems that sitting may be bad for your health. (Perhaps you’ve been sent this article, or one like it.)

Now, the church. If you’re Orthodox Christian, standing may not be so strange an idea. Seats (or leaning!) for those unable to stand, but most people stand. I’ve only ever been to one standing Orthodox service (a memorial) but even there I could see how a standing posture leads to more natural movement in worship — and nobody dozed off. Of course, the church itself is a distraction from the world, towards heavenly realities. So if my 41-year old self (or my remembered 5-year-old self) would get lost looking at an icon, or step over to light a candle and pray — well, what’s the harm. It makes a stiff, straight pew pointed to one speaker seem downright autocratic. So long as I wasn’t actually at attention I think most people could stand for a church service.

The proof of concept: Think about how long people stand for coffee hour and how active they are then.

Oh, and this is my 3,000th blog post.

 

Imagining the lovefeast as a universal feast

Tonight and tomorrow night, millions of Jews will observe the Passover: a celebration of God’s deliverance from slavery. I’ve never been to one, tempting as family associations and food are. (I have, in my college days, had leftovers shared with me.) I’m OK having never attended a seder, and I would be just as happy to be invited into a Jewish home for it. I’m happy to be welcomed as a guest it and not be offended if it should never happen (my interest in haggadot and horseradish notwithstanding) because it isn’t my feast. I’m a Christian and not a Jew.

As a Christian, I recognize the liturgical and spiritual dependence of the Lord’s Supper on the Passover, and — at the risk of sounding anything but matter-of-fact — that’s good enough and close enough for me. And this is especially close to my heart as we approach Maundy Thursday, the one time in otherwise no-longer Christian Unitarian and Universalist churches that you might find it.

But it makes me think, too, the responsibilities Christians have when we do have, or share, or receive — the verbs are difficult — the sacrament at the table. A phrase I’ve seen Universalists use historically to invite others to the table is that it is open to all who see it “a privilege or a duty” so to do. Communion, at a basic level, is a matter (among other things) of Christian discipleship, and this is obscured when an invitation is made very broadly in the spirit of inclusivity. I’m not suggesting the table be fenced, but rather that the facts are disclosed to participants don’t practice something they didn’t intend. There’s a lot of subtext in worship, and that’s not a fair burden to put on the innocent. Especially if there are members of the congregation who have been attentively evangelized (see above.)

Better, I think, to revive or institute a service that, while coming from a theological point of view, is intended to be of equal access to all-comers. I think Unitarian Universalists like and create these services, but frankly they are often strangely named — anything with communion comes to mind, as my husband will tease me — or are liturgically awkward. Let me pitch for the Lovefeast, which has a quasi-eucharistic character, but has stronger focus on blessing and a real meal. (The Universalist drew from some of the Lovefeast-holding German sect, and in 1790 made its observance optional on all Universalists.) And which is not so owned widely known (except perhaps in areas with many members of Church of the Brethren) as to confuse newcomers. Or, use an agape meal form, but cast it as a Meal of Universal Blessing, where the form is one of blessing we ask to be given to ourselves and all others, and objectively state it is in addition to, and apart from the Lord’s table. Knowing I wasn’t overstepping, over-reaching or over-promising might be the real welcome some people need.

The new order of service (at the grocery store)

Ever since Gaddafy blamed the Libyan revolt on drag-laced Nescafé, I’ve been drinking a lot of instant coffee. (But so far, I haven’t found the jar with the democratizing hallucinogens.)

And I ran out of powder just in time to buy some Maxwell House — and get the free haggadah. For three generations, the coffee company has distributed the Passover service book as a promotional device (to overcome concerns that coffee not a legume, and thus forbidden at Passover) and it has become an established cultural feature, both affirmatively (used by Obama! and grandma!) and as a by-word of the conventional and stodgy. But this year Maxwell House has come out with a new edition, and so there’s some buzz associated with it.

I’m not Jewish and have never been to a Seder. I’m just a liturgical magpie, and so I’ll keep my observations brief.

  1. I’m kinda tickled that in this day a major company would still issue a squarely religious publication.
  2. But you can’t find out a thing about it at the Maxwell House or Kraft site. Not even a press release.
  3. If there would ever be a Christian publication of a similar scope, it would have to be a collection of Christmas carols. I can’t think of anything else that would be home-based, relatively uncontroversial and desirable in multiple copies.
  4. The text itself is notably gender-inclusive for God and human beings, which I gather is one of the changes in the new edition. Having seen the “gender wars” in Christian liturgy, I’d gauge the edits as moderately euphonious and customary.
  5. On the other hand, if you’d like a freely-licensed haggadah, got to Haggadot.com or OpenSiddur.org.

The better order of service

Today’s customary printed worship order of service is a triumph of technology that’s been left too long without a serious revisit. I forgot where I read  — and this is not a thought original to me — that the development of the spirit duplicator was a watershed for local liturgy, because it gave ministers the tools to make their own weekly bulletins at little cost, thus allowing introductions and innovations that a long-use printed liturgy (or job printed order of service, pasted into the front cover of a hymnal) could not accomodate easily.

And there it rests. Swap the word processor and photocopier for the typewriter and duplicator, and really little has changed in many church — in terms of format — since. The assumption of lifelong denominational loyalty has changed, the liturgical literacy of congregations has changed, and consumer-driven demands for quality have changed. The order of service, not so much. Not in its shape and format. And where it shines with good directions, lovely typesetting and good paper, you can bet there’s a hearty staff, perhaps some print shop magic and a significant budget for the effort. And that’s a hard sell for most.

I think it might be time to abandon the format, for some churches anyway. Here’s an idea I’ve been mulling over. In place of a weekly order of service, publish a quarterly (or so) booklet of 40-64 pages. Have it include an outline church calendar and leadership/contacts directory. Have it include a thumbnail church history and outline of governance. Have it include how to join and how to leave a bequest. Have it include a order of service — it needn’t be listed as usual, but should have descriptions of what’s done in worship, and so far as possible, the reasons why the service has this or that element. It should include most of the usual responsive readings, psalms or litanies. Also the hymns most commonly sung in that quarter, to help build familiarity. Directions on how to use the booklet at home, or prayers for spiritual emergencies or table graces for extra credit. Have it also include a readable excerpt from a good sermon, faithful proverbs or both.A bit of art, a well-chosen poem or even a recipe can finish the work. It should be more handbook than service leaflet.

A special edition each for the Christmas and Holy Week-Easter arcs might make sense, since those tend to get more attendees.

The  church handbooks can be reused from week to week for a season, but the church should encourage them to be taken by guests or used at home by members. It should feel like a gift and a useful tool. It would require advance planning and seeking licenses, or the use of public domain or liberally-licensed works. But the discipline, if there’s capacity, might focus attention on the importance of planning worship in places where “the minister does that” or “that’s not my concern.”

It would need a weekly tip-in — for a special hymn, liturgical fragment and timely notices. And perhaps not even that if a hymnal is used or retained, and a there’s good announcement discipline and a well-mananged communications plan.  But after the first couple of issues, it might not take any more time to produce than all the publications it would effectively surplant. And it would make a grand statement to members and guests: we have something good here, and this is how we do it.

For the Humanists: a United Nations calendar for themes

I’m not really kidding here. I’ve written in 2003 and last year about the prospect of a sanctorial calendar — commemoration of saints — for liturgical purposes in Universalist and Unitarian churches, Christian or not.

Here, I’m thinking not. It isn’t so far a stretch from saints-as-faithful (not demigods) to thematic communities (commons) of saints to themes in worship. Follow me here.

The United Nations has a very full calendar of themes of concerns and commemorations that would fill the year for one of those cool, lean Midwestern kind of Unitarian humanist societies (I almost typed churches) that I have a certain odd affection for.

Perhaps not the International Day of Solidarity with Detained and Missing Staff Members (this Friday) or World Rabies Day, but International Book Day, International Day for the Right to the Truth Concerning Gross Human Rights Violations and for the Dignity of Victims (if repackaged), World Interfaith Harmony Week and others have worship hooks.

And I’d totally be there for International Day of Cooperatives.

Interesting worship tidbit from Chicago

This is a follow-up from that post about posts that I intended to get around to — so I’ll keep this brief and get it out the door. Last June, I noted that two more Universalist worship books appeared at Google Books.

St. Paul's Universalist Church, Chicago 1927 builiding
St. Paul's Universalist Church, Chicago 1927 builiding. Now a school. Photo: reallyboring (Flicker, BY-NC-SA Creative Commons license)

One, from 1891, is from the then long-defunct St. Paul’s Universalist Church in Chicago. The interesting thing is its use of creeds and a catechism, which I doubt much impressed the “Western” Unitarians headquartered in the same city.

The answer to the first question of the catechism anticipated the Universalist “Five Points” Declaration adopted by the Universalist General Convention, meeting in 1899 in Boston, but proposed at the 1897 convention in . . . Chicago. It reads:

I believe in one God, the Creator of all things, and the Father of mankind; in Jesus Christ his Son, who is the true Teacher, Example and Saviour of men; in the Holy Spirit, the Comforter; in the certainty of retribution; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of all men from the dead; and their final holiness and happiness in the immortal life.

And as for creeds, the worship book included two biblical ascriptions, the Apostles’ and Nicene Creed.

Really.

On using that prayerbook

You could have knocked me over with a feather when I read that Quaker minister, blogger and friend Micah Bales had bought an Episcopal prayerbook. Let’s hear it for experimentation.

I think I’ve said that I be an Episcopalian, provided I could find a liberal Morning Prayer parish. Oh, and no bishops. (So goes that Venn diagram.) So I’ll instead remain a Universalist with a free catholic point of view, the meaning of which I’ll get into in a blog post or two. Suffice it to say right now that I’ve learned my way around a prayerbook, and it takes some work.

Let me offer to the reading public a series of blog posts I wrote in 2004 for a very small church beginning to use prayerbook resources. Then I imagined a long-standing church in decline, but I think there are helpful ideas for people not from prayerbook traditions.

Software for that comparative liturgy project

A few days ago, I suggested a common dependence on Frederick Henry Hedge’s translation of the Liturgy of St. James for Unitarian, Universalist and Free Christian communion practice. Rashly I said would create a parallel text showing this development if I could find the software to typeset it.

I think I found what I was remembering: the parcolumns LaTeX package, in part because it can handle more than two columns in parallel. Shall test it, sooner or later, but I thought this tool would be helpful for others making liturgical comparisons.

As I proceed, I’ll also note which LaTeX graphical user interface (GUI) I’ve chosen, ’cause there’s no way I’m doing this in a plain text editor.

Borders furniture: a reuse for churches

I hate to see any bookstore die, even a chain store like Borders that caused other bookstores to fail. (For the record, I’d first learned of Borders from a Unitarian Universalist seminarian ages ago; her husband worked for them.) One of three stores has already closed in the District of Columbia — that’s when this idea was first born — but now we’re losing our other two, and scores more are closing across the country.

Table and bookstand

I went by one today; the line of bargain-hunters was so long that I didn’t bother to buy the handful of computer books I had selected. But again my eye turned to the display pieces. As you see from the photo, they’re not for sale — yet. But I think a creative if cash-poor church could use this. This idea will take a bit of imagination, so follow me here.

This is made of two pieces: a square table and a double-faced book stand. Imagine the book stand pushed to the edge of the table. Put your sermon manuscript — perhaps in a three-ring binder — on the bookstand. On the other side, place an open Bible — or that membership book so many people love. In front of it can go flowers. Am I suggesting turning this bookstore display piece into a pulpit. Yes, I am. (It’s a little low for me, but I’m pretty tall. I could cope with it, and have preached from shorter.)

Version two. There are also longer tables for sale, with the shorter end the same width as these square tables. Again, keep the book stand in the “pulpit” position, leaving the rest of the table like a thrust stage towards the congregation. Put the communion ware, or a basin for a baptism, on it. Or what have you. Candles?

Or alternately, turn the book stand 90 degrees so its length runs the length of the longer table. Place matching copies of the communion liturgy on either side, and welcome communicants to the table after the end of the main service. (Having communion after the main service was once a common, since it’s never been terribly popular in Unitarian and perhaps Universalist circles, and gathering up a communing rump-congregation dates to Elizabethan England. And not a bad way to negotiate its resumption in non-Christian UU churches today, I think.) Other services can likewise be held ’round the table, if the congregation is small enough and the service is short enough for people to stand.

Or, say in a very small (“one room”) congregation, remove the pulpit piece — it could use its own shelf in this case — and serve refreshments from it after the service. Or use it at other times as a work surface. Board meeting?

Just thinking out loud.