Advent Wreath New Ideas
Advents wreaths can get a little stale if you ask me. I’m all for tradition–love it, actually– but really, are we using that plasticky old wreath and unexamined liturgy AGAIN?!
Well, the church I attended this past sunday surely isn’t. Their wreath isn’t a wreath per se; it’s four candles set up on four individual stands around their sanctuary. Their bulletin notes,
As the darkness deepens and winter comes, each week we light one more candle to speak of our hope for the coming light. Much has been made of the symbolism of the Advent wreath, each candle given a particular meaning. Actually, it is the action of lighting one more candle in the darkness that bears its deepest meaning. In the face of growing darkness, the church brings more light. Since our sanctuary gathers us in a circle, we imagine ourselves as the wreath, bearing in our hearts the light of Christ.
I love these ideas, moving away from each candle symbolizing a certain meaning but having the wreath more broadly remind us of bearing light in the darkness. The candles then function as actual candles, lighting the way. I guess I had forgotten that candles actually brighten things rather than just look pretty and sit in a wreath.
Does your congregation have any Advent traditions?
image by István Benedek
Sensory Worship
As I mentioned, a few weeks ago I was part of a group that led a week of corporate worship at Columbia seminary. My favorite service — if one can have such things — was Thursday’s during which there was no sermon and very little spoken liturgy. Strange, I know, for a homiletics and liturgy guy. Perhaps I liked the service so much because it took ages to plan and we weren’t sure how it would go since it was so different. Or, perhaps, it was just quality worship. You can’t experience it, but you can read on for a description.
Call to Worship: Thanksgiving at the Font
The service began with the words thanksgiving over the water. Three of us slowly walked forward with fun pitchers and poured — very slowly — water into the font while a liturgist prayed a thanksgiving for baptism that drew out water motifs from throughout scripture.
We then immediately — without spoken instructions — led the congregation in a short a cappella piece in cannon, “You have put on Christ. In him you have been baptized. Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.”
Scripture, Layered and Textured
Then the real fun began. The readings were Psalm 23 and Revelation 22:1-5 (the river of life passage).
First time through readers read the readings as per usual, with silence in between.
Second time through readers read the passages while a cellist played the tune RESIGNATION, (The Shepherd Will Supply My Need). The cello continued through the silences, and did not stop when the readings ended.
Next, a variety of images of water began appearing on a screen (set away from the font, table, and pulpit but easy to see). As the images took over, the cello ceased and the readers continued with a pause between.
Finally, the images stopped. The readings, one fourth and final time, were then read together, interspersed with on another. So the baptism stuff was going on in folks’ heads, the Psalm 23 action was lively, and the crazy-eschatological nature of Revelation was working its stuff. But the atmosphere was silence, loud silence due to the fact that our senses were just minutes before focused on the “The Shepherd Will Supply My Need” and then the images.
SILENCE FOR A WHILE
Then, out of the back of the sanctuary, a solo french horn played “The Shepherd Will Supply My Need.” Slowly, beautifully, movingly. It was the Holy Spirit, supporting us from behind even before we knew it. Or maybe just Jesus.
Response:
The congregation then sang “The Shepherd Will Supply My Need,” we prayed, then sang a hymn text from Revelation 22 to the tune of “Come Thou Fount.”
Benediction. Go in peace.
Reflections:
As with all our chapel week, we tried to discuss the sacrament of baptism without being boring or too predictable, but not trying to be different for the wrong reasons or obnoxiously unpredictable. It was an unusual type of service that one can get away with in a community like Columbia. But it was, actually, so very simple.
We sang a cappella, two hymn tunes that have been around for centuries, and a newish but strong reworking of Revelation. We prayed. We heard the Bible — multiple times. We thought together about baptism without being told what we must think. We took in images of water in our world. And we enjoyed silence so hard to find in our culture.
Certainly, the interspersing of the texts, and the layering of their words with the audio and visual response was sort of an experiment. But we got some really good feedback, and the service, actually, felt tighter and flowed better than I would have even hoped. Sure it was “contemporary worship” as is all worship today. Sure it did use a screen. But, really, it was old by the book stuff.
Water. Word. Silence. Singing a new song. Praising God with horn and strings. Praying together. Going out in peace.
All Are Welcome
Ok, I’m partly posting this to save me search time in the future and partly because it’s interesting (strangely, the full text of Haugen’s hymn doesn’t seem to be online) Anyways, just yesterday, the Columbia Seminary community sang “All Are Welcome” at a service celebrating National Coming Out day. It’s a hymn of welcome with a fun (or too fun) text, sing-songy tune, and quite solid refrain.
I’m posting the entire text to help folks critique or research or worship plan, but not so they can steal. Clearly, use it legally which means if your congregation doesn’t have the rights or OneLicense then buy it before you use it.
I’ve read that “All Are Welcome” is a popular hymn in American Roman Catholic churches, but also that there’s some push back. First the text, then some comments.
Let us build a house where love can dwell and all can safely live,
a place where saints and children tell how hearts learn to forgive.
Built of hopes and dreams and visions, rock of faith and vault of grace;
here the love of Christ shall end divisions:
All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place.Let us build a house where prophets speak, and words are strong and true,
where all God’s children dare to seek to dream God’s reign anew.
Here the cross shall stand as witness and as symbol of God’s grace;
here as one we claim the faith of Jesus:
All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place.Let us build a house where love is found in water, wine, and wheat:
a banquet hall on holy ground where peace and justice meet.
Here the love of God, through Jesus, is revealed in time and space;
as we share in Christ the feast that free us:
All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place.Let us build a house where hands will reach beyond the wood and stone
to heal and strengthen, serve and teach, and live the Word they’ve known.
Here the outcast and the stranger bear the image of God’s face;
let us bring an end to fear and danger:
All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place.Let us build a house where all are named, their songs and visions heard
and loved and treasured, taught and claimed as words within the Word.
Built of tears and cries and laughter, prayers of faith and songs of grace,
let this house proclaim from floor to rafter:
All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place.
A few issues that come up. First, the refrain really sticks with you. It’s a simple but strong text matched to a really spiffy tune. Second, I’m not sure about the repeating phrase, “let us build a house.” Sure, it’s biblical but I’m not convinced the house metaphor is the best for us these days, but even if it’s good, every verse gets a bit repetitive (wonder if it was written for a building dedication?). Third, I’ve heard the line, “built of hopes and dreams and visions” critiqued for being too folksy and imprecise, but I like the line for the biblical ideas of hope, dreams, and visions that it brings to my mind. Finally, I the theological claims of the last verse really appeal to me, that our story is “claimed as words within the Word.” I think that names our connection to Christ well, and reminds us to fully value human experience.
I’ll be back to better blogging next week. I blame my professors for my slow output recently. But I can make quite an ethical argument regarding euthanasia and slippery slope logic.
Thanks to Matthias for playing and posting the tune on YouTube. Can you believe it’s received almost 11,000 hits! Crazy world we live in.
September 3, 2006: Our Sunday Morning Wedding
Happy anniversary Megan!
Two years ago today, we wed at First Presbyterian Church in Tallahassee during Sunday morning worship. I could get all romantic-like and wax eloquently about how it was the best decision I’ve ever made or how I’m only deeper in love with Megan today, but, that’s not blog-propriate. Instead, I’m using our anniversary to blog on our wedding service itself since it seems to have done the job so far, was a bit unusual, and comes highly recommended by us both.
I can’t remember when we first thought of it (in our household, Megan’s in charge of remembering things) but we’d certainly had considered being married during Sunday morning worship for a long time. In fact, just a few hours after Megan proposed to me, we found ourselves flipping through a hymnal looking for appropriate hymns for worship.
For us – and I’m just going to write all these comments from a very personal point of view and I’m not saying everyone should do what we did or think as I think – anyways, for us, having our wedding during Sunday morning worship just made sense. Neither of us likes drawing attention to ourselves, so the idea of a traditional wedding put us off. We both hold worship in high regard, and we didn’t want our wedding to be confused as a gathering around the bride and groom, rather than a gathering around the Word to worship the Triune God. We both had strong relationships with the congregation, and the pastor and session proved fully supportive. A sunday morning wedding is not for everybody, but it may be for some. Here’s what ours looked like.
Worship (Not Quite) as Usual:
Though we wanted to be very clear that what people were participating in that Sunday morning was a worship service first and foremost, we did go some effort to make the worship particularly festive. A few examples.
The Procession: The Bible led the procession, followed by the choir, followed by Megan and me and our parents. We entered singing a hymn, with the congregation of course. Fred Pratt Green’s “God is Here…and we your people meet to offer praise and prayer.”
The Liturgy: Megan is Lutheran, I’m Presbyterian. Considering the many Lutherans from out of town attending worship, the congregation, early in the summer, began singing and learning the Lutheran liturgy. As the church changes service music fairly regularly, I doubt anyone outside the choir realized the liturgy was “Lutheran.” So when we all gathered on September 3, almost everybody knew the tune. (And of course, we had a brass ensemble and timpani help lead us in our joyful noise.)
The Vows: We used slightly altered more inclusive vows from the PC(USA) Book of Worship. We didn’t practice them. There was no rehearsal the night before. Everything still went smoothly. Sometimes rehearsals are more trouble than they’re worth. Immediately following the vows, the congregation rejoiced by singing a Celtic Alleluia unaccompanied in a round.
Communion: Call me traditional, but I agree with Calvin: the Lord’s Supper should be celebrated every Lord’s Day. I also think communion is a fantastic way for a congregation with many guests to celebrate their unity in Christ. The session granted our request to celebrate the eucharist that morning. They also allowed Megan and me to serve. So our first act as a married couple was serving the community from Christ’s table. Talk about a good start!
Choir: Friends from St. Olaf College, Luther Seminary, and Luther College swelled the numbers of the church choir. They, of course, helped lead the liturgy and hymns, but they also sang two anthems, one of which is by former St. Olaf Choir director, F. Melius Christianssen, “Praise to the Lord Almighty.” (For audio, try listening to the St. Olaf Christmas Festival Combined Choir version from a few years back here; it may work.)
Postlude: Postgame, our amazing organist led us out of worship with the raucous Egil Hovland arrangement of “Now Thank We All Our God.” Megan and I greeted our fellow worshipers at the entrance to the courtyard where the congregation gathered for a reception following worship.
Reflections:
Now I’m totally biased, but I really think the church would do well to welcome and seek out more weddings to take place during Sunday worship. This frames weddings as they should be framed–God’s people gathering before God to make promises to God and one another. Without the grounding in worship and the word, because of the wedding industry and social expectations, it’s very difficult for people attending weddings to think of them primarily as worship events not praise-the-couple events. Without intentional planning, it’s also difficult to make the wedding a participatory event–as worship should be–rather than an event which guests simply attend.
As the mainline church reconsiders its foundations in our money and prestigue-driven 21st century culture, we are called to reassert a Christian understanding of marriage. As the emergent church thinks creatively about how God is moving outside traditional models of church, we can seek ways to rescue Christian marriage from the snares of the fashion and hospitality industry.
So to couples and pastors out there, I heartily recommend marriage in the context of Sunday worship. Two years out, my only regret is that we couldn’t find a way to get a baptism in there as well. Happy Anniversary Megan!
Many thanks to Taylor Guthrie, our dear friend and photographer.
Help Wanted: Creative Ideas for Children's Choirs
Help Wanted: Creative Ideas for Children’s Choirs
I thought this week was going to be nice and easy, leisurely paced. Wrong. (I’m just taking it as good transition back into school life, though.) One of the main ways I’ve been spending my time is making contacts and conducting interview of music directors.
I’m writing an article for a denominational journal Call to Worship. For various complicated besides-the-point reasons, I’m now doing the project, and writing with a really tight deadline. So, of course, I thought the blogosphere might be of help.
So what do you know about the creative use of children’s choirs in worship?
Or, who do you know that I should talk to? (And, preferably, who responds quickly)
Basic concepts of the piece: When people think “Children’s Choir” they, perhaps sadly, tend to think of cute little kids singing a special anthem up front on Palm Sunday. That’s fine and dandy, totally cool, but how else can children’s choirs be used in worship?
Maybe a good way to put this: What are practical ways children’s choirs can contribute to the liturgy in forms other than solo anthems?
If you comment significantly, please leave your full name and email (only I see the email) so I can contact you for attribution information if I use your ideas in the article.
Did I mention I’m working with a short deadline? Any ideas would be greatly apprecited.
From the wedding singer: Now the Silence, Then the Glory

Today marks week two of our road trip, and day two in Kansas City, Kansas (Overland Park, to be precise). We’re enjoying KC, the wedding festivities, and the relative luxuries of the hotel–our Aspen campground didn’t have showers, let alone A/C and an exercise room.
At tomorrow’s wedding, I’ll be singing this beautiful and biblical text by Jaroslav Vajda (other famous hymns include “Go My Children” and “God of the Sparrow”).
A Luther pastor, though Vajda translated hymns from Slavic from a young age, his own writing career didn’t begin until he was almost 50 years old. And even then, it was almost by accident.
In 1968, when Vajda was editing This Day magazine, Vajda found himself having to fill a blank page in the magazine before the copy went to the printer three days later. Vajda decided he would fill the page himself. As he shaved the next morning, he was bothered by a question which had troubled him for years. He was always struck by the psalmist’s statement, “I was glad when they said to me, let us go to the house of the Lord.” Not only did Vajda perceive most contemporary worshipers as not particularly glad when anticipating worship, he himself was not always pleased at the prospect of worship. Vajda then attempted to write a hymn that would prepare worshipers in a way that might enable them to identify more with the psalmist. “Now the Silence” was born.
Now the silence
Now the peace
Now the empty hands uplifted
Now the kneeling
Now the plea
Now the Father’s arms in welcome
Now the hearing
Now the pow’r
Now the vessel brimmed for pouring
Now the body
Now the blood
Now the joyful celebration
Now the wedding
Now the songs
Now the heart forgiven leaping
Now the Spirit’s visitation
Now the Son’s epiphany
Now the Father’s blessing
Now
Now
Now
To fill the blank space, Vajda listed out the Lutheran order of worship, noting what happed at each cycle. He later wrote, “As I went through the list, I realized there was so much there that I was missing, or that the average worshiper was missing, simply because of not anticipating. I thought, if this kind of hymn (or poem) could be sung or read at the beginning of a church service, a person would be more conscious of what’s happening in that holy hour.” He wrote the basis for “Now the Silence” in next thirty minutes.
The hymn was published in This Day and caught the attention of Carl Schalk, a professor of music at Concordia University in River Forest, Illinois. Schalk contacted Vajda, asking if he could set the text to music. Vajda agreed. The hymn has since appeared in 20 hymnals. Vajda continued writing hymns, mainly in his retirement, and has now published more than 200 original and translated hymns.
Later, Vajda wrote another text set to the same Schalk tune, “Then the Glory”
Then the glory
Then the rest
Then the Sabbath peace unbroken
Then the garden
Then the throne
Then the crystal river flowing
Then the splendor
Then the life
Then the new creation singing
Then the marriage
Then the love
Then the feast of joy unending
Then the knowing
Then the light
Then the ultimate adventure
Then the Spirit’s harvest gathered
Then the Lamb in majesty
Then the Father’s Amen
Then
Then
Then
I don’t know the full story for this second text, but as in the first, every image is straight from the Bible. I love its eschatological emphasis, and the contemplative imagery-driven approach. The hymn invites the reader to imagine, to reflect on the Bible, but also to just experience the rich variety of God’s promises.
I certainly won’t due the hymn justice tomorrow at the wedding, but in that one-of-a-kind congregation gathered for a wedding around the word, a couple will make their vows and God’s covenant of love will be celebrated and honored. Now, and then, may God be praised.
image by Scyza
Pull that chord: A CD, a blog post, and a congregation

So I admit it. Sometimes I start composing posts about events before they happen. I mean I don’t actually report on something before it happens, but in anticipation I’ll frame an upcoming experience in terms of how to describe it on my blog. Last Sunday, I planned just such a post, but my actual experience defied my expectations. This post, therefore, is drastically different than I had planned.
I preached in a parish church Sunday at an evening communion service (part of a sermon series on the women of the Bible and you can find my sermon on Phoebe here.) Anyways, as I was planning the service with the minister, he mentioned that it was unlikely that the church could find an organist for the service. Consequently, he requested that I choose well-known hymns, as a CD of such hymns would lead our singing.
Ok, my first reaction was a bit on the snobby side. I had never sung to a CD before. I bemoaned the world’s state of affairs when a sizable congregation can’t track down a pianist for a simple service. But before I went too far down this path of negativism, I imagined a blog post.
What a great post it would be: to describe my bad attitude towards congregations singing to CDs before actually experiencing it, and then show my good sense and happy surprise after the CD-singing experience proves much better than expected. “St. Olaf Choir singer is accompanied by a CD, and he likes it” would have been an appropriate headline. It could have been a good post, but the actual singing calls for another type of post entirely.
The CD-led singing was a disaster. Perhaps its because the CD wasn’t loud enough, or the organist playing on it played more quickly than expected, or because the introduction was too short, or the sound system speakers in the wrong place, but for whatever reason, the CD was leading about twice as fast as the congregation had a mind to sing. When the CD ended the first verse, we were only about halfway through. It sounded like a cannon gone haywire, an organist’s idea of hell. And folks started fidgeting and frowning, and before my eyes a congregation happy to sing God’s praises morphed into individuals uncertain whether to offer praise at all.
And then the minister put his hand up. And he shouted. And an elder shot to action. And all was well in the world.
“Cut the CD” he said. “We’ll sing a cappella.” And he began that second verse, and the singing was marvelous.
It wasn’t that the congregation sang to a particularly high artistic standard; they just sang out. They sang with their hearts–without that darn CD. They sang aware of their neighbor’s support but not self-conscious of their own. They sang God’s praise with the voice God gave them. And it was beautiful.
That congregation of less than thirty didn’t need a CD, rather they just needed the invitation to sing with nothing–and all–of the voices they already had.
So I’m still a bit uncertain about the wisdom of CD-led congregational song. And I’ll be more careful about writing posts in my head before experiencing an event in reality. But I am very grateful for the episode, for when that elder hit “stop,” the congregation truly engaged.
photo by zen













