When liturgy embraces difference
Rebecca Spurrier’s study of a “disabled church” and its lessons for all Christians
worship
I feared it would last a week. Then came the moment of truth.
Greeting people on Sunday mornings, I’m fueled by thankfulness for their presence.
God is the encounter we can't control.
"It feels vulnerable to be the weird lady outside preaching sermons."
Turned toward one another in worship, we experience the grace of God's gaze.
A sandwich can be a subversive act.
We embrace uninitiated visitors, rowdy children, and blue jeans. Why not tears?
Tain Gregory was new to Sandy Hook Elementary School when the mass shooting happened, but the faith that helped him respond had been a long time in the making.
Why is Pokemon Go so captivating? At least partly because it re-enchants the world.
It is extraordinary to hear a song reverberating off stonewalls and then dissipate into thin air. The soaring beauty of ephemeral art! Sometimes I find myself holding my breath as the soloist hits a high note or that incredibly awkward person tells his testimony. Do we appreciate that moment? Because many of us are conductors of that symphony, curators of beauty and we don’t realize the importance of our position.
Worship for the Whole People of God, by Ruth C. Duck
Ruth Duck takes a balanced approach to liturgy. Her aim is not to champion a single style but to offer a foundation for reflection.
It’s kind of hard to worship. I used to get frustrated with the retired ministers who worshiped in the churches I served. They used to take me aside to mentor me, but often it just felt like criticism. They pointed out the weirdest things, like the song didn’t rhyme like it should or the elder serving communion had the wrong sort of look on her face. Now, I suppose I understand them a bit more, because it’s difficult to turn away that critical eye.
In a major hymnal, an unauthorized edit is an embarrassing oversight. In the local church, it's pretty routine.