Category: worship

grace

wonderfulexchange6 Comments

Earlier this week, a  non-Piskie friend asked me if I felt obliged to go to church during my holidays.

I said that I longed for those few Sundays that I got to go to church with no strings attached.  Indeed, I plan my holidays around making sure I am where I need to be for good worship on a Sunday.  Those days as precious, and I find a really good service ‘feeds’ me for weeks and months after the event.

And you have seen that in my reflections on the service at St Thomas’.

I have been promising to blog on the eucharist, and I will.  But procrastination has paid off, for I have realised that before I write about it, I must preach on it — and that never works so well the other way round.

Sadly, my last service in Dunoon tomorrow will be difficult.  There was crazy unwarranted conflict in the congregation this week and no matter how many times I tell myself to let go and let people be angry with me if they need to be, the truth is that I am blinded by it and it is interfering with my ability to preach well on my last day.

And it is the service at St Thomas’ that has come to the rescue:  an experience of spaciousness and grace, that was not free from conflict or difficulty, but an experience in which God triumphed over the human failures.

So yes:  I go to church when I am on holiday.  I can’t imagine how I would live otherwise.

picking up threads

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Several weeks ago, I hoped to blog about the experience of worship I had at St Thomas’ in New Haven, CT.   Well, here we are at last.

The service taught me a lot, and the experience of it is still unfolding for me.

Last time I spoke about the space:  the way in which a wholly white space formed a sort of ‘stage’ for the enacting of liturgy.  This time, I want to speak not of space but spaciousness:  there was a sense of open possibility which permeated the service, and drew me in despite a lot of things that might have gotten in the way.

Before the service began, I was very aware of happy chatter around the church.  It gave me a good impression of the community, but I feared there was too much chatter to let me find peace, to pray and prepare to worship; and I feared the commotion wouldn’t cease when the service began.

Well, the noise and motion did indeed make it harder to pray before the service.   But against that came the organ: slowly and insistently calling us to prayer.  The sub-organist began to play 15 minutes before the service was due to start.  And I needed him to be playing for that long.  Against all the chatter, it simply takes longer to find — what?  stillness, centredness, focus, openness, attention.    And yet, because the organist did play — and because of how he played and how long he played — it was possible for both things to be happening:  happy chatter and depth of prayer.

Then, when the organist stopped, and the noise threatened to reassert itself everyone was stopped in their tracks by the introit:  a solo voice pierced the background noise, and suddenly the whole space was filled with insistent beauty.

Throughout the service, the tensions continued between noise and commotions, and focused, reverent worship.   When the service began, the nave was only about a third full.  By the time we came to communion, the church was more than two-thirds full.  Some of those people had come late, others had begun in the side chapel with their young children, others seemed to walk to and fro though the whole liturgy of the word.  I do not understand all of what was happening.  I did feel somewhat frustrated by the number of people who seemed to be drifting, moving, talking… but against all that there was a steady beat drawing us in.

It was held by the way the president made space for what was happening.  Continue reading “picking up threads” →

risen indeed

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At six pm, I thought all was lost.

Not a single little chocolate egg for hiding to be found, and a life-long tradition broken.

I seriously considered cancelling Easter, but duty won out.

The stone was rolled away, and Christ raised.

It was by far  the best Easter Vigil I’ve had since being ordained, and the thing that threatened to de-rail it (a bit of  conflict at communion between a child’s hands saying ‘yes’ and a mother’s hands saying ‘no’) redeemed itself after the service as the girl, the ex-primary teacher and I all splashed our hands in the font telling stories.

I’ll miss the egg hunts ‘tomorrow’ morning, and the delight of seeing octogenarians rush round the church like little children.  But still there will be new life.

Next year, though, I’m getting my eggs the day after Christmas.  They had mini-eggs then.  I remember it distinctly:  no milk, no bread, but mini-eggs.

Ooh, and I bet the pulpit in Dunblane has lots of good hidey-holes for chocolate eggs.  Not to mention to walled garden…

road show

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I’m getting ready for my last big liturgical road show.  Tomorrow, all three congregations are meeting in Tighnabruaich, which normally only has resources for a dozen people.  So, my props list looks like this:

  1. palms & plate
  2. alb, stole, maniple, chasuble
  3. chalice, paten, linens
  4. wine, wafers
  5. orders of service
  6. Passion booklets
  7. president’s copy
  8. Holy Week service times
  9. Order of service for worship leaders for monday (Rothesay)
  10. music for Monday
  11. Magnificat setting
  12. non-PN readings
  13. Draft Stations for Friday (Rothesay)
  14. advent wreath

(that last one is there just because I know I will forget something, so…)

Those in the know should hope that this year’s reading of the Passion will not be as dramatic as last year’s.