Effects of the Pandemic on Preaching and Worship: Questions to Consider (A Guest Post)
In ministry and research, the Rev. Andrew Stoebig's work stands at the intersection of song, narrative, and ritual practice. He is a PhD candidate in musicology at the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities, where his dissertation explores the quasi-liturgical gatherings of the Arcadian Academy of Rome at the turn of the eighteenth century. Andrew is a Deacon in the Community of Lutheran Deacons, a member of the Lutheran Diaconal Association. He is also pursuing an MTS in Liturgy at St. John's University, Collegeville, Minnesota, where he works as editorial assistant for Pray Tell, an ecumenical blog on worship and the church. He enjoys watching old episodes of Password on YouTube.
This conversation began in some communities of faith as early as the summer of 2020, others last summer, and still others are either just beginning or continuing it this year.
Namely, now what?
Certainly, that’s a question we should be asking in one way or another every year.
Yet the events and traumas of our most recent cycle of memory calls for a deeper kind of reflection on the way we operate individually and within our community systems.
With that in mind, I’m reminded of the Vier letzten Lieder by Richard Strauss (1864-1949), specifically the opening line of the fourth movement “Im Abendrot,” or “In the Sunset”:
“Wir sind durch Not und Freude / gegangen Hand in Hand…”
“We have gone through hardship and joy hand in hand…”
— Joseph von Eichendorff (1788-1857)
In this last of Strauss’s musical output, I hear a kind of mystical death, a letting go of whatever lies behind with deep faith in resurrection.
The broad, sweeping musical lines united with such a poignant, intimate text place the listener before the most beautiful of sunsets over a pockmarked, desecrated landscape.
All seems to be ending and yet all seems to be beginning, all at the same time.
As we ponder such resurrection hand in hand together with our communities still under death’s long shadow, consider in what ways both preaching and liturgy (worship) has changed and stayed the same in the past five years.
Whether your worship patterns are new or old or in between, does what you say match what you do?
That is, does your pattern of and movement during worship support or challenge, confirm or deny, further or suppress your homiletical proclamation?
Do Your Worship and Preaching Go Hand in Hand?
Example 1: Offering Collection
For instance, if you no longer pass the offering plate through the pews to reduce shared surface areas, do you now collect the offering at the door following the service?
We do this in Germany as the Evangelical Church of Germany is supported by the government through a specific tax for church members rather than direct donations to congregations. The collection at the door is therefore more incidental, like a second collection in the United States.
To me, this positionality symbolizes a kind of thanksgiving similar to an offering collected during a worship service yet subtly different: thanksgiving to the ministers for a job well done, a payment for services rendered, as opposed to when the offering joins in the Great Thanksgiving before the Eucharist.
Does such a symbol agree with your spoken proclamation?
Example 2: Standing vs. Sitting
Or what about standing and sitting? For instance, you might now be choosing to sit more to shorten a service time or honor an assembly’s age or experience of long covid. But might not such attention to detail also reshape the assembly’s action to one of a more passive rather than active posture, more akin to the months we spent worshiping at home by watching livestreams on the couch in our pajamas than to the living body of Christ.
Does your proclamation name the Christian life a spectator sport?
These are but two simple examples of ways in which well-meaning choices in worship might connote or represent a message other than the one that preachers work so diligently to proclaim.
In thinking through your own actions and posture in worship, you might start with yourself.
Consider what you’re wearing, either as vestments or as street clothing, and what you’re wearing under your vestments. Do these honor your tradition and support the Gospel you preach?
How do you carry yourself? What is the cadence of your voice? Do you rehearse prewritten prayers beforehand? Do you use a binder or book to lead from? If so, could someone hold it for you, so your body remains open and engaged with the assembly? And what do your hands do?
Do you stay in the moment and pay attention to the parts of worship you don’t lead?
Expanding the scope, what kind of interactions do you have with colleagues, both paid and volunteer?
Are the music and environment symbiotic with your Gospel message?
How might you harness the riches of both your local community and the vast array of our Christian tradition around the globe and throughout time to work alongside the preaching you invest your life in sharing?
The Time is Ripe for Reevaluation
These may be obvious questions, and yet the time is ripe for reevaluation.
You might consider asking for feedback from outside colleagues in ministry, either in person or by watching a recording.
You might engage your staff or other leadership in some basic theatrical training to tease out bodily awareness.
You might even include liturgical or musical language in your preaching as a way of weaving your words into the entire assembly.
I believe we’ve turned a corner if we hadn’t already when it comes to our worship life as Christians. So, there’s really no time like the present to make even a subtle shift in your liturgical/worshipful presence as it relates to your preaching.
For like the music and text of “Im Abendrot,” preaching and liturgical form/action can work together, hand in hand.
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