Some years ago, teaching the introductory Christian theology course around the theme of liturgy as theology, I required students to read Evangelical Is Not Enough. It's a beautiful little book, that challenges the prevailing distrust of liturgy among evangelicals. There exist, even in the Anglican tradition, those sorts of folks who believe that repeated exercises rob the exercise of its power. In psychology, it's
known as the Law of Diminishing Returns. As the novelty wears off, the
activity seems to produce less response in our brains. This is usually
understood when it comes to things like addictions, in particular. But,
it can be applied to other areas as well.
Yet the aversion to liturgy among Protestants goes even deeper. Just mention Luther's treatment of the abuses of a Church that had become so enamored with rituals that it seemed to walk away from its Christological center. Thus, we conclude, rituals are to be avoided because they might somehow compromise what is most important.
Here, it might be helpful to move to a different realm of life to explore this idea. Every year my wife and I celebrate each other's birthdays. We celebrate holidays (i.e., holy days) with family and friends. We tell each other "I love you" every day -- sometimes even when we don't "feel" it. We both show each other love by doing things the other loves, sharing time with each other, and talking about things we've talked about together a million times before. If ritual and routine were seen as something less than genuine, we might conclude that we don't have a relationship at all. But, then again, that would be silly. Our love is demonstrated to one another through the traditions and routines we have constructed together and some that we have inherited together. Love is played out in the routine, normal, everyday occurrences that make up our lives. It is the mundane moments of our routines together that continue to shape our love for one another. If either one of us were to stop these routines in our relationship, it would communicate something less than care for the other. It might even be received as rejection.
Now, there can come a moment when those "rituals" that construct our lives as a married couple cease to be heartfelt or genuine. They can become opportunities to go through the motions. But, that doesn't mean, again, that we should conclude that the rituals are bad. I will continue to tell Kendra I love her because there is value in that routine. As such, the routine may not need to be discontinued. Rather, it may need to be re-engaged with intentionality on our part. The attitude with which we act upon those routines can make a significant difference. And, in addition, I will find that those routines help continue to shape my love in tangible ways -- even if, as I mentioned before, my heart is "not in it" at the moment.
When it comes to rituals, it's also important to admit that not every one of them needs to be revived. But in the Church, most the rituals we've received -- that have been passed down to us through generations of faithful prayer and worship -- have the capacity for the Spirit to use them to mold us.
It's always seemed a bit odd to me that those traditions that scoff at regular practice of the Eucharist, for example, are the same ones who are vehement about practices of church attendance, Bible reading, and prayer. They recognize the value of rituals and routines, although they would debate as to which are important and necessary. But, I think it's a good start to recognize that EVERY church has routines and rituals -- some good, some bad, some ugly. The question is to then discern which traditions, rituals, and routines are true "means of grace".
We also should address the Law of Diminishing Returns for things like the sacrament of communion. Many fuss over the loss of meaning if one should take communion too often. If the sacraments are something that we do, then I would agree that's correct. Our experience would diminish given enough repetition. However, if the sacraments are something that God gives and imbues with God's grace and something that we receive, then the argument doesn't hold much water for the very simple reason that we cannot exhaust God's grace! This is the very basis of the sacraments and the means of grace. They are God's gift to the Church as ways of growing in grace.
John Wesley often encouraged his parishioners and ministers to take communion as often as possible. He even called it "the duty of constant communion". Sometimes he took it multiple times a day because he understood it to be a means of grace and not something that we accomplish. Wesley recognized that it was a practice that shaped us in profound ways, even if one could not "feel" or "sense" a difference in that moment. Yet, even in the mundane moments of communion, Wesley believed God was at work.
Practice makes perfect -- not because we are achieving something, because we are cooperating with the grace that God is giving us. Practice makes perfect for the very reason that we are equipped by the Spirit to be what God calls us to be (this is the Aristotelian over the Platonist view of perfection), not because we are without flaw. Further, practice makes perfect because we are being trained to love God and neighbor with a greater depth than we could before.
I once heard a story -- I believe it's one Fred Craddock used to tell -- about a man that came to fully appreciate the practices of the Church. Every Sunday that church he attended would receive communion. It's the sacrament that constantly reminds us of the forgiveness which we have received and also of the ways that we participate in the very life of Christ as his Body. This man's son began to act out and in ways that were damaging and detrimental to his life. It went on for some time and there was nothing the man could do but watch the destructive path his son had decided to take. However, there came a moment where the son came and asked forgiveness from his father for all the things he had done to him. The father recalled all the times he had taken communion and how he had received God's grace and forgiveness at the Table. Those times of practice and routine now shaped his loving, forgiving response of reconciliation with his son.
Practice made perfect.
Yet the aversion to liturgy among Protestants goes even deeper. Just mention Luther's treatment of the abuses of a Church that had become so enamored with rituals that it seemed to walk away from its Christological center. Thus, we conclude, rituals are to be avoided because they might somehow compromise what is most important.
Here, it might be helpful to move to a different realm of life to explore this idea. Every year my wife and I celebrate each other's birthdays. We celebrate holidays (i.e., holy days) with family and friends. We tell each other "I love you" every day -- sometimes even when we don't "feel" it. We both show each other love by doing things the other loves, sharing time with each other, and talking about things we've talked about together a million times before. If ritual and routine were seen as something less than genuine, we might conclude that we don't have a relationship at all. But, then again, that would be silly. Our love is demonstrated to one another through the traditions and routines we have constructed together and some that we have inherited together. Love is played out in the routine, normal, everyday occurrences that make up our lives. It is the mundane moments of our routines together that continue to shape our love for one another. If either one of us were to stop these routines in our relationship, it would communicate something less than care for the other. It might even be received as rejection.
Now, there can come a moment when those "rituals" that construct our lives as a married couple cease to be heartfelt or genuine. They can become opportunities to go through the motions. But, that doesn't mean, again, that we should conclude that the rituals are bad. I will continue to tell Kendra I love her because there is value in that routine. As such, the routine may not need to be discontinued. Rather, it may need to be re-engaged with intentionality on our part. The attitude with which we act upon those routines can make a significant difference. And, in addition, I will find that those routines help continue to shape my love in tangible ways -- even if, as I mentioned before, my heart is "not in it" at the moment.
When it comes to rituals, it's also important to admit that not every one of them needs to be revived. But in the Church, most the rituals we've received -- that have been passed down to us through generations of faithful prayer and worship -- have the capacity for the Spirit to use them to mold us.
It's always seemed a bit odd to me that those traditions that scoff at regular practice of the Eucharist, for example, are the same ones who are vehement about practices of church attendance, Bible reading, and prayer. They recognize the value of rituals and routines, although they would debate as to which are important and necessary. But, I think it's a good start to recognize that EVERY church has routines and rituals -- some good, some bad, some ugly. The question is to then discern which traditions, rituals, and routines are true "means of grace".
We also should address the Law of Diminishing Returns for things like the sacrament of communion. Many fuss over the loss of meaning if one should take communion too often. If the sacraments are something that we do, then I would agree that's correct. Our experience would diminish given enough repetition. However, if the sacraments are something that God gives and imbues with God's grace and something that we receive, then the argument doesn't hold much water for the very simple reason that we cannot exhaust God's grace! This is the very basis of the sacraments and the means of grace. They are God's gift to the Church as ways of growing in grace.
John Wesley often encouraged his parishioners and ministers to take communion as often as possible. He even called it "the duty of constant communion". Sometimes he took it multiple times a day because he understood it to be a means of grace and not something that we accomplish. Wesley recognized that it was a practice that shaped us in profound ways, even if one could not "feel" or "sense" a difference in that moment. Yet, even in the mundane moments of communion, Wesley believed God was at work.
Practice makes perfect -- not because we are achieving something, because we are cooperating with the grace that God is giving us. Practice makes perfect for the very reason that we are equipped by the Spirit to be what God calls us to be (this is the Aristotelian over the Platonist view of perfection), not because we are without flaw. Further, practice makes perfect because we are being trained to love God and neighbor with a greater depth than we could before.
I once heard a story -- I believe it's one Fred Craddock used to tell -- about a man that came to fully appreciate the practices of the Church. Every Sunday that church he attended would receive communion. It's the sacrament that constantly reminds us of the forgiveness which we have received and also of the ways that we participate in the very life of Christ as his Body. This man's son began to act out and in ways that were damaging and detrimental to his life. It went on for some time and there was nothing the man could do but watch the destructive path his son had decided to take. However, there came a moment where the son came and asked forgiveness from his father for all the things he had done to him. The father recalled all the times he had taken communion and how he had received God's grace and forgiveness at the Table. Those times of practice and routine now shaped his loving, forgiving response of reconciliation with his son.
Practice made perfect.