Holy chaos and hearty response
Allow us to recommend the lively, insightful conversation sparked by Holy Chaos, or : What Episcopalians can learn from Baptists, Emily M. D. Scott’s essay
Allow us to recommend the lively, insightful conversation sparked by Holy Chaos, or : What Episcopalians can learn from Baptists, Emily M. D. Scott’s essay
Many Episcopalians are refugees from other denominations, painfully excluded because of who we are or what we believe. For a long time, we left the Church. When we came back, we knew we needed to be part of something progressive, where we would never be told that God’s love excluded us. We also live with a visceral reaction to the language of the church we grew up with. We can’t bear to be around anything that feels like that place where we were so badly wounded.
Bishop Mark Dyer offers an image of the church hosting a giant “Rummage Sale” every 500 years – a sale where that which no longer serves the work of the Spirit is cleared away to make room for fresh expressions of ministry. What might the church might have to let go of, for the sake of new life?
I have a strong sense that movement is more of a royal road to awareness and spiritual transformation than we imagine. Human beings danced themselves into spiritual awareness long before language emerged. Ritual is primal. Doctrine is a latecomer. I wonder whether as the implications of post-modernity gradually sink in we might realize just how alienated we are from our bodies in the religiosity our very recent ancestors invented.
We had previously demonstrated that positive emotions, such as laughter, were good for vascular health. So, a logical question was whether other emotions, such as those evoked by music, have a similar effect.
“For reasons, perhaps known only to God, I believe we, in the diocese of Montreal, are among those who have been called by God to speak with a prophetic voice,” he said. “It is our voice that is called to affirm that all people are loved, valued and precious before God and the Church. It is our voice that is called to affirm that all unions of faithful love and life-long commitment are worthy of God’s blessing and a means of God’s grace.
The Lambeth Stewards’ Program helped me catch a glimpse of Anglican Youth worldwide. We came from many different countries, backgrounds and social statuses. However, we shared a very distinct appreciation for traditional liturgy. Moreover, a disproportional percentage among us were especially fond of Anglo-Catholic liturgy and ancient Church Music.
It’s a rather peculiar gesture that involves making the sign of the cross with the first two fingers of the right hand while simultaneously sucking the right thumb. While I’ve not seen it in Ritual Notes or any other liturgical guide, I have an extraordinarily good vantage for observing it; it’s the sign my newly-five-year old daughter makes as she leans her head on my shoulder while I hold her during the Eucharistic prayer.
Willow, used for caskets, grows up to 8 feet each year and does not need replanting. It requires little mechanical processing, making it one of the few truly environmentally renewable resources. In addition, willow when buried under the ground decomposes far more quickly compared to hard woods.
It is precisely the point of the liturgy to take people out of their worlds and usher them into a strange, new world—to show them that, despite appearances, the last thing in the world they need is more of the world out of which they’ve come. The world the liturgy reveals does not seem relevant at first glance, but it turns out that the world it reveals is more real than the one we inhabit day by day.