On Facebook I read posts quoting an Anglican priest who claims that young people want more “tradition” in Sunday worship, but I see little basis for this claim. Young people are attracted to Sunday worship where there is a strong expectation that God will be present in his gathered people and they themselves will experience a sense of God’s presence.
This kind of worship is not necessarily what is described as “contemporary.” It can be liturgical. But it must also be open to God’s presence, not just in the celebration of the sacrament of Holy Communion but also in the liturgical assembly itself, in the singing of God’s praises, in the expectant prayer of the assembly, in the proclamation and exposition of the Word, in the silences of the service, and in the exercise of the gifts of the Holy Spirit.
What the priest in question describes as “tradition” can turn Sunday worship into a lifeless ritual that insulates worshipers from God’s presence. and which has negligible impact on their lives. It is not the life-transforming experience that Sunday worship ought to be.
I hesitate to call this kind of worship “charismatic” or “Pentecostal” because these labels are apt to bring to mind pre-conceived notions and stereotypical images of the kind of Sunday worship about which I am talking. These notions and images are unhelpful.
God is not likely to manifest his presence in his gathered people through the overly dramatic or the unusual. Nor is God likely to manifest himself with prophetic utterances that conflict with he has already revealed in Scripture or which glorify political figures and promote worldly causes.
The ways that God is more likely to manifest himself is with an energized congregation; enthusiastic congregational singing; fervent, heart-felt prayer; an intensified devotion to Jesus and to living one’s life to God’s glory. We cannot produce these effects in the liturgical assembly. Only God can. They are the work of the Holy Spirit.
Our role as worship planners and service leaders is to be facilitators. This means being open to the Holy Spirit’s leading ourselves as well as facilitating a life-transforming encounter for attendees of our worship gatherings with the living God. As well as selecting hymns, songs, Scripture readings, and prayers that will facilitate such an encounter and preparing sermons to that end, our task is to prune the dead wood from the liturgy, those elements that keep the liturgy from serving that purpose.
The opening songs of the liturgy should draw the members of the congregation together as a liturgical assembly and usher them in the presence chamber. These songs should culminate in the singing of the Gloria or some other great hymn of praise in which the members of the congregation join their voices to those gathered around God’s throne and sing the praises of God’s holy name. Even the Kyries and the Trisagion, an expanded form of the Kyries, are songs of praise. They should be given more than a perfunctory treatment. Rather the assembly should enter fully into singing them. If the assembly becomes lost in singing them, it is all the better. They are no longer words. They are heart praise.
In the kind of Sunday worship that I am describing, the members of the congregation recognize the Scripture readings not only as the telling of God’s story, the proclamation of his mighty works, the declaration of his excellencies, but also as a meeting place between God and themselves. God is present to them in his Word. They listen attentively to each reading and reflect upon what they have heard in the silence that follows each reading.
The members of the congregation also listen attentively to the sermon, expecting to hear a word from God in the preacher’s words. The sermon may unpack the meaning of a particular text and apply it to the lives of the congregation. It may expound a biblical truth or principle, drawing upon several different texts. A period of silence follows the sermon, giving the members of the congregation time to digest what they have heard.
The Prayers of People are not rushed. There is ample opportunity for members of the congregation to offer their own petitions and thanksgivings. People are invited to the front to receive prayer and laying-on-of-hands, particular at major life transitions.
The Peace can be quite exuberant, with people moving around the room and hugging each other. Visitors may find the Peace a little overwhelming. The members of the congregation make a point of greeting the people that they do not know as well as those whom they do know. It can take several minutes for the congregation to return to their seats and for the preparation of the table to begin. Instrumental music may be played to signal to the congregation that it is time to move onto the next part of the service.
The preparation of the table begins with music. It is usually a meditative song—a hymn, a worship song, an anthem, or a solo. It may be instrumental music—violin and flute, for example. Like the preparation of the table, it serves as a hinge between the liturgy of the Word and the liturgy of the Table. If an offering is taken, it is brought forward with the bread and wine by representatives of the congregation.
The Lord’s table is free standing. It may have a seasonal parament on it. The only things on the table's top are the fair linen, the cup, the bread, the liturgical book, and a pillow to support it, and maybe one or two low candles in a front corner of the table—nothing to draw attention away from the sacramental signs. The priest faces the congregation across the table. There may be a basket of flowers on the floor in front of the table, but there is nothing that blocks the congregation’s view of the bread and the cup, nothing to draw the eye away from these sacred symbols.
The acclamations of the eucharistic prayer are sung—the Sanctus-Benedictus, the Memorial Acclamation (s), and the Doxology and Amen. The settings are simple ones that the congregation knows by heart. The bread is broken in silence or to a simple Fraction Anthem.
The people sing as they go forward to communion—simple hymns and worship songs that can be sung from memory, responsorial songs with easy-to-remember, easy-to-sing refrains. The communion procession is a foretaste of the joy of the redeemed as they go to the Wedding Supper of the Lamb.
Those who desire prayer may stop at one of several prayer stations upon returning from communion. At each station, a prayer team awaits them to lay hands on them, to anoint them with oil, to pray with them, to pray over them, as they request.
After all have received communion a profound silence descends upon the assembly—a deep silence, a silence in which one may hear the quiet voice of God saying, “Be still and know that I am God.” The congregation has learned that one may encounter the living God in silence and stillness as well as in his praises.
From the silence, from the stillness arises a jubilant song of praise and thanksgiving, a song that may reach a climax in spontaneous praise and adoration and singing in the Spirit.
The service comes to a swift conclusion with an upbeat hymn or song that sends the congregation back into the world, rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit, to love and serve their Lord. The words of one of the dismissals in the revised Roman Missal come to mind, “Go in peace. Live your lives to God’s glory.”
After the service, a few people linger to receive the ministrations of one of the prayer teams.
In the Sunday worship I am describing people meet God and come away with a blessing. It may not be the blessing that they were expecting, God blesses us so that we may be a blessing to others. God shows us grace so that we may be vehicles of his grace to others. It is Sunday worship that energizes, uplifts, inspires, and transforms. It is Sunday worship through which God turns our hearts to himself and to our fellow human beings, through which God restores his image in us.
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