These past few weeks, there was another murder spree. In fact, there was more than one. Another random selection of young people took up weapons and decided to destroy the lives of other people. Next Sunday, many Christian churches celebrate the third Sunday of Advent which liturgically includes lighting the “Joy” candle in an Advent wreath.
That is a difficult paradox to resolve, and it is this kind of sudden eruption of the world into the lives of people that makes collaborative and team approaches to worship planning so important. When the worship we express is not responsive to events such as mass shootings, public bombings, and the unrepentant slaying of black men and women for wearing their American skin, it becomes irrelevant.
We may not like the fact that we have to compete with club sports, Target’s marketing budget or last night’s midnight finish of the playoff game to fill our pews on Sunday mornings, but that does not give us the excuse to stop trying to craft the best worship possible every single week. Especially in times like these, times when the human experience seems particularly difficult to comprehend or bear.
The human experience is the worship experience. The work of Sunday morning is a work of meaning-making. A team of people who have spent weeks in dialogue preparing for this Sunday of Joy only to wake up Friday to a world in Sorrow, won’t have to wonder whether or not to change the slides, the songs, the prayers or the sermon. They will only have to figure out who first to call. They will be able to get together and continue the dialogue for how a service pointed toward Joy can more deeply engage with a community in grief.
Too often, pastors sit alone in their offices on Saturday, bleeding over a sermon or prayer that arises from the newspaper, with no mechanism in place to work with the musicians, the liturgists, the ushers, the sound engineers, the video crew, or the drama team to shift, change or alter the planned worship.
Too often, the music leader feels duty-bound to the letter and text of the cantata, and doesn’t give herself permission to revise the readings or alter the order of the songs.
Too often, music groups have not spent enough rehearsal time together to be able, without notice, to play a different song set or present a different anthem.
Too often, the children’s sermon has been a slot of storybook or Bible song, and there is no time to find something age appropriate that can help children and parents in conversation and response to sudden tragedy.
It is at these times, these times when a faithful response is especially important, that our lack of preparation shows. It is at these times that the clockwork, fill the slot worship production mentality bears its fruit.
We show up and follow our lines, incapable of improvising on the black and white themes of the bulletin We say the printed prayers from the book of worship and sing the songs set before us, not because they mean something, but because that is what we have been taught to do.
We watch the short video clip from “Christmas Vacation,” presented with no shift in context or aim, and at the end of the morning, our people leave, unprepared for the week ahead, their questions, griefs, anxieties and fears unanswered by the Gospel; and the best we leaders can hope for is that worship may have provided an hour’s escape from the morning news.