How do we make something new and vibrant
without chucking out all the good old stuff?
Can we?
Should we?
Who do we ask?
Read this perspective by Jonny Baker.
Faithful improv
In the United Kingdom where I serve, something intriguing has been taking shape in the area of worship. It's not uncommon to find communities practicing rituals, lighting candles, projecting icons, and regularly using liturgy around Communion, which is becoming more central in many gatherings. The irony is that many of these churches turned away from traditional worship a few decades ago when tradition became a dirty word.
Some reacted negatively to tradition, as many still do, because they saw it used to defend a flawed status quo and squelch innovation. But there is a significant difference between tradition and traditionalism. Christian tradition is living; it is not closed or completed, and it is not opposed to innovation.
Traditionalism, on the other hand, is dead and static. It is championed by those who want to do things "the way they have always been done."
Part of faithfully carrying a tradition forward is keeping it truly alive. To keep reforming religious tradition is part of being faithful to that tradition. This reformatory impulse is at the heart of our Christian heritage. And when tradition is kept alive, it actually subverts the traditionalism that attempts to the choke life from a community.
Jesus employed precisely this approach when confronting the traditionalism practiced by the religious leaders of his day. He often drew from the past to move forward. But it takes leaders with a developed set of instincts to draw on their traditions in a creative manner. They must carry a deep respect for their tradition, but not a blind one. They recast the tradition for their present context by fusing old traditions with new innovations.
N.T. Wright calls this process "faithful improvisation." He asks us to imagine the discovery of a previously unknown Shakespeare play. The script is complete except for one missing scene. To perform the play, the missing scene will have to be improvised by a group of actors. To improvise well, they must immerse themselves in the rest of the plot, the characters, and other Shakespearean works. Only those who know the play and the author well can judge whether the improvised scene rings true.
In a similar manner, Wright suggests that the Bible is a drama in five acts. The first four acts are Creation, the Fall, the calling of Israel, and Jesus. The fifth act begins with the birth of the church in Acts and ends with the new heavens and new earth in Revelation. But there is a missing scene in the middle of the fifth act—the scene in which we live. Our task is to faithfully improvise that scene. But not just any improvisation will do. Our improvisation will be judged by its faithfulness to the larger story and its author. Even so, there remains a wide range of imaginative possibilities.
Jazz is a good example of faithful improvisation. The better a musician knows his scales, instrument, written music, and jazz tradition, the more depth his improvised jazz performance will have. Likewise, church leaders with greater knowledge of Scripture, church history, mission, theology, and worship will find more freedom to improvise within their context without sacrificing depth. For them, tradition becomes a reservoir to be immersed in and a deep spring to draw from. Improvisation is a skill that requires taking risks and making mistakes, but it is undergirded by a desire to remain faithful to tradition.
Liturgy remixedMost people see worship as a choice between two approaches. On the one hand, there is the traditional mainline form of worship with a set structure, liturgy, and prayer book. Positively, this form opens us to depth by engaging the richness of tradition and the use of the lectionary. But it can also be dry and leave people uninspired by its lack of passion.
On the other hand, the contemporary worship movement structured itself around bands that led blocks of singing followed by preaching and responses. In the 1970s and '80s, this movement was an exciting recovery of freedom of expression in worship. But over time, in many places, contemporary worship has gotten stuck, and what once felt radical and alive now feels a bit past its sell-by date.
Thinking back to Jesus' parable, it seems that liturgical worship has taken only the old treasures out of the cupboard, and contemporary worship has taken only the new. And both forms are poorer for not following Jesus' wisdom and blending the two.
. . . .Along with incorporating something new from popular culture, we often construct a service with a responsive, multi-sensory, and embodied ritual. This might be something traditional such as lighting a candle, anointing with oil, sharing bread and wine, or walking a prayer labyrinth. Other rituals may not be rooted in the past, but simply a physical symbol of a deeper truth: placing a broken tile on the table, leaving a footprint in sand, or tasting something bitter and something sweet. Physical response, especially if it is multivalent—able to express a number of meanings depending on one's circumstances—seems to open up a window in the soul for transformation. The response helps move worship from the head to the heart.
Jesus' story about taking both old and new treasures out of the cupboard communicates the importance of balancing tradition with innovation. We need to recognize that a respect and knowledge of tradition is what fuels our improvisation, and adapting traditions for our present culture actually honors the traditions we value.
Where the old things are good, we should keep them going. And alongside the old, let's develop something new. In this way, tradition can lead us into the future.
Jonny Baker is a leader and member of Grace, an alternative worship community in London, England. Read the entire article on Christianity Today.
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