Last Sunday I had a conversation with folks about how much has changed at church. This included a sharing of memories of a time when the experience of worship included far more movement from the congregation: sitting, standing, kneeling, standing, kneeling, standing, sitting. Pre-COVID at St. Paul’s, we generally stood to sing, knelt for prayer, stood for the benediction and, of course, were far more engaged in the passing of the peace through shaking hands, fist pumps, and offering hugs.
What our bodies do in worship can hold meaning and purpose. Kneeling is a sign of respect and humility. It is something that was often done in the presence of rulers. Thus, it was adopted for worship to show humility to God especially in moments of prayer and confession.
Standing opens our body to larger movements that are appropriate to praise as, for example, when singing. Sitting invites us to quietly listen and creates space for learning and reflecting. Physical connections in the passing of peace remind us of the connectivity within our community.
To be fair, I could give you more suggestions about what to do in worship and when to do it. I do know clergy who continually provide instruction throughout the liturgy. Some might see this as establishing and proclaiming a kind of “law”, that is the expectations, and rules for engaging in worship.
For the promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through the righteousness of faith.
We are familiar with the concept of ‘law’, those rules that serve to maintain order and keep people safe. Laws are often created when something goes awry. Some seem rather intuitive – like don’t harm, don’t kill, and don’t steal – and yet these need to be formalised to ensure that these can also be enforced. The law can be seen as imposing rules and structures on people. To follow the law doesn’t require reflection or self-examination. We don’t have to think about why the rules exist. Indeed, some may only follow them to avoid punishment.
There are no laws about how we worship here at St. Paul’s. I choose not to tell you how to engage your body, mind, and spirit in this journey we share. My hope is that you will choose to do what makes sense for you and that will be accepted without judgment by those gathered. In essence, I hope that you are doing the work to determine what is meaningful in your expression of faith. I hope that you will find patterns and practices that resonate for you. I hope that whatever you do helps you find what you need when you come into this space.
For the promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through the righteousness of faith. If it is the adherents of the law who are to be the heirs, faith is null and the promise is void. For the law brings wrath; but where there is no law, neither is there violation.
There are no ‘laws’ for worship in this space so that no one need worry about violating something. Instead, the ideal is to create spaces for each person to reflect on their own journey and embody their faith in a way that makes sense for each person.
Imagine what life might be like if we also didn’t need laws to maintain order and keep each other safe. Imagine what might happen if everyone continually did the work of contemplating the implications of our choices, attitudes, and actions. Imagine if we thought twice about actions that might benefit us and harm others or creation. Imagine what might happen if we focused continually on practices that embody love for God and love for our neighbour instead of having to follow rules to avoid punishment. Is it possible for us to continually live righteously, caring for one another in profound and meaningful ways?
For the promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through the righteousness of faith.
There is something righteous about meeting people where they are at and creating spaces for each to share their gifts. There is something righteous about inviting people to walk with us in our journey of faith. There is something righteous about letting people know that they belong, that we will make space for them, and that we know we are better when we embrace the diversity of God’s Beloved Children and God’s Creation. We don’t need laws to tell us these truths. We know through experience that love creates profound opportunities and makes a difference in our lives and the lives of others.
Let us pray that we continually seek to move beyond proscribed laws enabling righteousness to perpetually guide our choices and the ways we embody our faith through love for God and all that God values. This we pray as we sing: (VT) 412 My Soul Cries Out