Many of you who have been with me for a while know that I've been attending All Saints Church for the past couple of years. It's a great not-so-little-anymore church-plant full of gracious and loving people.
It's also got this whole crazy Anglican, formal, liturgical worship service. The service is full of prayers that we read together, responsive readings, kneeling, and the like. Most weeks have learned to enter into it well, but some weeks it's still a struggle.
But last night I had a dream that either confirms that I'm feeling at home with the liturgy or I'm pushing back against it more than ever. Maybe my wonderful readers can help me decide.
In my dream, Thomas, our youth minister, was leading a responsive reading in the middle of the service. Here's how it went:
Thomas: "Do you renounce the evil one, the thieving bastard?"
Congregation: "We renounce the thieving bastard indeed!"
Like I said, seems like it could go either way. What do you think?
Showing posts with label All Saints Church Posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label All Saints Church Posts. Show all posts
Friday, June 05, 2009
Monday, March 24, 2008
Easter P.S.
Something from my pastor Steve Breedlove's sermon yesterday that was really cool:
"The early church fathers called Jesus' struggle in the Garden of Gethesemane 'the garden of obedience.' And they did this as a deliberate contrast to the first garden, and the first Adam, who faced a similarly significant decision but who chose disobedience."
Two gardens. Two Adams. One the cause of all the misery in the world. The second the hope of all peoples everywhere.
"The early church fathers called Jesus' struggle in the Garden of Gethesemane 'the garden of obedience.' And they did this as a deliberate contrast to the first garden, and the first Adam, who faced a similarly significant decision but who chose disobedience."
Two gardens. Two Adams. One the cause of all the misery in the world. The second the hope of all peoples everywhere.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Merry Christmas (Still)
One of the problems with being a culture that is perpetually in a hurry is not only do we not wait well, we do not celebrate well, either. Been to a wedding recently? Only the wedding party (who has to) stays to see the couple off. I'm surprised people haven't started leaving after the couple says "I do."
And so December is a mad rush of buying and scurrying and hurrying. And then Christmas Day comes we exchange presents and eat a big meal. We wake up the next morning with post-Christmas hangover. And more than a few of us are both relieved that it's over and wonder how we managed to "miss Christmas" again this year. We box up the decorations with a mixed emotions and move on to New Year's resolutions.
In the midst of this pattern in my own life, I've deeply appreciated my new-to-me Anglican church experience. The Anglican church emphasizes waiting and anticipating during the Advent-weeks leading up to Christmas. So much so that if you're "a real Anglican" you don't decorate the house or the tree or listen to any Christmas music or wish anyone a "Merry Christmas" until the day of. It's all about longing and expectancy--not only longing for Jesus to come in the flesh but also a longing for his return to earth to make all things right.
When Christmas finally does come it's not just one day. It's twelve days. The pressure is off to have a mystical, magical, spiritually-ecstatic experience on December the 25th each year. Twelve full days to allow the enormity of the incarnation event sink in, take root, make its' home in your heart, mind, and soul. There are twelve full days to listen to Christmas music with impunity.
So I'm still listening to my Charlie Brown Christmas, long after the local mix station has gone back to their normal format after being "the Triangle's official Christmas music station" (much to the relief of the dj's, I'm sure, who were forced to endure the same 20-song playlist for the previous four weeks...which, now that I think about it, isn't any different from their normal format). And I'm loving that today is seventh day of Christmas. Slowing down long enough to enjoy and actually experience life rather than just hurry through it is something I need plenty of help with.
And so December is a mad rush of buying and scurrying and hurrying. And then Christmas Day comes we exchange presents and eat a big meal. We wake up the next morning with post-Christmas hangover. And more than a few of us are both relieved that it's over and wonder how we managed to "miss Christmas" again this year. We box up the decorations with a mixed emotions and move on to New Year's resolutions.
In the midst of this pattern in my own life, I've deeply appreciated my new-to-me Anglican church experience. The Anglican church emphasizes waiting and anticipating during the Advent-weeks leading up to Christmas. So much so that if you're "a real Anglican" you don't decorate the house or the tree or listen to any Christmas music or wish anyone a "Merry Christmas" until the day of. It's all about longing and expectancy--not only longing for Jesus to come in the flesh but also a longing for his return to earth to make all things right.
When Christmas finally does come it's not just one day. It's twelve days. The pressure is off to have a mystical, magical, spiritually-ecstatic experience on December the 25th each year. Twelve full days to allow the enormity of the incarnation event sink in, take root, make its' home in your heart, mind, and soul. There are twelve full days to listen to Christmas music with impunity.
So I'm still listening to my Charlie Brown Christmas, long after the local mix station has gone back to their normal format after being "the Triangle's official Christmas music station" (much to the relief of the dj's, I'm sure, who were forced to endure the same 20-song playlist for the previous four weeks...which, now that I think about it, isn't any different from their normal format). And I'm loving that today is seventh day of Christmas. Slowing down long enough to enjoy and actually experience life rather than just hurry through it is something I need plenty of help with.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Retreating with Men
This past weekend I did an overnight men's retreat with my church, All Saints, with the blessing and encouragement from my super-human wife to go even with a three-week-old at home. And even still when she woke up Friday morning with emergency tooth-pain that required fixing a cracked filling that morning and scheduling a root canal for later this week.
I went looking forward to the time with men from my church as we camped out on a farm about forty minutes from Durham. I've been working with college students for twelve years now. Sometimes my wife thinks that fact has stunted my social skills in relating to men my own age.
This semester on campus we're talking a ton about the importance of relationships. We were made for community. When we don't have it (as so many students at UNC do not), we are handicapped in our ability to deal with the most important questions in life: identity (who am I?), spirituality (who is God?) and purpose (what the heck am I doing here?).
All of these questions were meant to be explored in the context of relationships where we are actually known. I've realized over the years that I spend much of my life creating community among 17-22 year olds and yet often have a hard time finding space for it in my own life.
What I was not expecting going into the weekend was to be blown away by the teaching. Our rector, Steve Breedlove, dealt masterfully with the subject of what it means to become fully human--in our specific case, what it means to become fully men.
It is so easy in discussing the issues of gender to fall off to one extreme or the other. The conservative extreme is to fall into stock stereotypes and gender roles so ridiculously specific and overly-defined that it's laughably easy to think of people who are the "exceptions" and so to dismiss their definitions. The liberal extreme is to so focus on the exceptions that they argue that it is impossible to make any statement about gender whatsoever.
Steve handled this exceptionally well. He talked in terms of "a spectrum" and "tendencies." But he was unafraid to offer up real distinctives about each gender. He talked about fallen male-ness and fallen female-ness out of Genesis 3. But he did so with utmost respect for both men and women. He cast vision for redemption and hopefulness that was not watered down in vague "try harder" humanism but rather the fact that life and hope must win in the end because of the empty tomb of Christ.
I came home Saturday night grateful to have spent time with a quality group of men, the caliber of whom I appreciate the more I spend time around them. And I came home freshly encouraged to work, husband, father, and friend more freely and joyfully--with lots more to think about as I continue to figure out what it means to be fully a man.
And I came home deeply grateful for my wife, who blessed me to go--root canal, three kids, and all.
I went looking forward to the time with men from my church as we camped out on a farm about forty minutes from Durham. I've been working with college students for twelve years now. Sometimes my wife thinks that fact has stunted my social skills in relating to men my own age.
This semester on campus we're talking a ton about the importance of relationships. We were made for community. When we don't have it (as so many students at UNC do not), we are handicapped in our ability to deal with the most important questions in life: identity (who am I?), spirituality (who is God?) and purpose (what the heck am I doing here?).
All of these questions were meant to be explored in the context of relationships where we are actually known. I've realized over the years that I spend much of my life creating community among 17-22 year olds and yet often have a hard time finding space for it in my own life.
What I was not expecting going into the weekend was to be blown away by the teaching. Our rector, Steve Breedlove, dealt masterfully with the subject of what it means to become fully human--in our specific case, what it means to become fully men.
It is so easy in discussing the issues of gender to fall off to one extreme or the other. The conservative extreme is to fall into stock stereotypes and gender roles so ridiculously specific and overly-defined that it's laughably easy to think of people who are the "exceptions" and so to dismiss their definitions. The liberal extreme is to so focus on the exceptions that they argue that it is impossible to make any statement about gender whatsoever.
Steve handled this exceptionally well. He talked in terms of "a spectrum" and "tendencies." But he was unafraid to offer up real distinctives about each gender. He talked about fallen male-ness and fallen female-ness out of Genesis 3. But he did so with utmost respect for both men and women. He cast vision for redemption and hopefulness that was not watered down in vague "try harder" humanism but rather the fact that life and hope must win in the end because of the empty tomb of Christ.
I came home Saturday night grateful to have spent time with a quality group of men, the caliber of whom I appreciate the more I spend time around them. And I came home freshly encouraged to work, husband, father, and friend more freely and joyfully--with lots more to think about as I continue to figure out what it means to be fully a man.
And I came home deeply grateful for my wife, who blessed me to go--root canal, three kids, and all.
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