Lessons on Liturgical Change, Part 2

Stephen Ellingson, author of The Megachurch and the Mainline (Univ of Chicago, 2007), studied for three years the effects of worship changes made in nine churches in California’s Bay Area. Here are some of his conclusions:

One of the simplest but most useful insights I gained about the process of change in the study congregations is that leaders must strike a balance between innovation in worship and continuity with past practices. My analysis of change in worship supports the key insight from other sociologists of religion who argue that core theological tenets and ritual practices must be preserved and that members must be able to see how that new form or elements of worship is related to the old 

 If change is seen as a radical or a complete break with the past, members are likely to reject it as (1) not authentic to or faithful to the tradition, (2) unintelligible, and (3) too difficult to master. If the new worship practices differ too radically from the old, members are likely to leave or give “voice” (e.g., complain, mobilize to prevent change, or push the congregation into open conflict) 

 Concerns about the loss of members or the possibility of conflict (which could exacerbate membership loss) were very important to the study congregations as they struggled to cope with the ongoing decline of mainline Protestantism in northern California. Most of the congregations also voiced a commitment to retaining the theological core of Lutheranism, which they understood to be one way to distinguish their church from nondenominational congregations that were flourishing in their communities.  

. . . . In short, the services. . . considered continuous with the Lutheran tradition. . . conformed to the format of the older order of service, emphasized key theological tenets of grace and sola fide (Martin Luther’s phrase “faith alone”), and were organized around the preaching of the Gospel and the rite of community. But the changed worship was also seen as novel in that its musical idioms reflected contemporary pop music, it included a greater emphasis theologically on conversion and sanctification, and it appealed as much to emotion as to intellect. . .   

At some congregations, the process of change was smooth because so many members simply did not know much about (or care to preserve) the core. At other congregations, concerns about continuity led to a both–and strategy in which the non-Lutheran contemporary service existed alongside the traditional liturgical service. . . . 

Worship matters because it is the primary way in which congregants learn the basic tenets of the Christian faith, experience the blessings (e.g., forgiveness) and challenges (e.g., sin) of the Christian life, and meet the God they worship. When churches change the content of worship it may challenge congregants’ understanding of their religious identity and commitments, and thus provoke conflict. Similarly, changes in the form of worship or how it is organized may be met with resistance because it may affect the theological content of worship, as well as what congregants are able to hear and their ability to participate. 

. . . Congregational leaders would be best served by identifying how members experience services (what they believe is most important about worship) and by gauging congregants’ level of commitment to specific liturgical forms, styles, or practices.

Stephen Ellingson, “Why Worship Matters: Lessons from Lutheran Congregations Struggling in a World of Liturgical Change,” Liturgy 32, no. 1 (2017): 32-41.

The Ecology of Liturgical Spirituality

How can the church can come to know and welcome people who consider themselves to be “spiritual but not religious”? This is the theme of the latest issue of Liturgy. Fred Edie's essay, “Doubling Down on Liturgy: Inviting the ‘Spiritual But Not Religious’ to Discover Sacramental Spirituality,” offers a way to assess what is happening in a congregation’s worship. 

Is your worship event open to the welcoming those who are "spiritual but not religious" into the most vital, most profound expressions of faith?

Edie's questions may lead to fruitful self-examination for worship leaders, especially because they point in two directions at once asking: 1) Is the way worship is enacted making clear the importance of the event? 2) Are the worship leaders transparent to the word of God and the sacraments of baptism and the meal, rather than being the center themselves? Edie writes: 

Participation in hospitable and artful liturgical performance is the first element of liturgical spirituality. This element, though basic, defies simple description because of the qualifiers “hospitable” and “artful.” How, for example, does one specify style? It is difficult to say, yet one knows it when one sees it. Perhaps reflective questions offer a better means of understanding and evaluating than a list of norms:

Do leaders and congregation together express welcome, hope, and expectancy for God’s graced action in and through the font, pulpit, table, and the gathered assembly? Is the gathering around the font discernible as a ritual bathing offered and performed in love?  Similarly, is the gathering at table discernible as a meal shared in community by and with a gracious host?  Do the gestures and words of leaders and the people reinforce these sacramental doings as occasions of grace, even as they may in some settings also evoke solemnity? Does the pulpit regularly serve as a setting for interpreting the significance of the bath and table in relation to the scriptures and to faithful life in this time and place? Is the performance unhurried? Are leaders and people able to laugh at themselves when something goes wrong? Do they acknowledge publicly when God acts in surprising and awesome ways in the midst of the community? Do gestures, symbols, and words point to the paradoxes of death and life, suffering and hope, presence and absence, and so on.

In general, these questions point to liturgical performance in which the triune God is made known and glorified, even as God transcends the assembly’s knowing. Such performance acknowledges mystery and evokes experience of the sacred, but it also manifests humility as it recognizes its own limits. . . .

Second, liturgy requires catechesis—though of a less didactic and more reflective sort to suit the subject matter. Excellent catechesis will include teaching the faith in relation to liturgy’s modes of disclosing it. It will enlarge persons’ imaginative/aesthetic capacities so that they might be moved and changed by liturgical performance, symbols, and poetic speech. Theology will be taught not as a separate subject but in connection to liturgy, and with respect to its implications for the faithfulness of worshipers. . . .

Third, practices within the sanctuary should be imaginatively (and frequently!) linked to practices beyond it. Liturgy both performs and presupposes the mission of God. For example, as the Eucharist satisfies the hungers of worshipers, so are they sent out to satisfy the hungers of the world. Similarly, as the font invites all to be washed into unity with one another—to be reconciled in Christ—the baptized will be offered opportunities to seek vocations of healing and reconciliation in their communities.

I understand these three—worship, catechesis, and participation in God’s mission—as an interdependent ecology; each strengthens and interprets the other. They propose a coherent Christian life. Together they constitute what I am calling liturgical spirituality.

Fred P. Edie is associate professor of the practice of Christian education at Duke Divinity School, and the author of Book, Bath, Table, and Time: Christian Worship as Source and Resource for Youth Ministry (Pilgrim Press, 2007).

Fred P. Edie, “Doubling Down on Liturgy: Inviting the ‘Spiritual But Not Religious’ to Discover Sacramental Spirituality,” Liturgy 30, no. 3 (2015): 40-47.