A Facebook Conversation
My friend and fellow Minister of Music, Doug Haney, serves Wilshire Baptist Church in Dallas, TX (formerly, he was Minister of Music for Providence Baptist Church, Charlotte, NC). I recently had the opportunity to reconnect with Doug as he conversed with me about the revitalization of Polyphony Music Resources, a supportive organization for church musicians (www.polyphonyresources.org). I received a warm welcome to the group’s Facebook page. Doug recently posed a thoughtful question to the group to which I responded. Our conversation follows.
Doug Haney, administrator of Polyphony Music Resources Group:
Hey folks,
Let me pose a question to the group and invite you to share your uncommon wisdom - how are you responding to the Ukrainian-Russian war in worship at your church?
Larry E. Schultz, member of Polyphony Music Resources Group:
This question came as I’m literally sitting on the couch wondering if the anthem I selected with good intentions for this Sunday should be sung (in light of the current atrocities) and further, if Easter should be postponed until it feels authentic.
Thank you, Doug, for this question. Experiences like this horrific invasion, the pandemic, and our own history of oppression should cause churches (and those of us responsible for worship planning) to examine and question old and inadequate theologies and liturgies in an effort to discover meaning and expressions more appropriate and life-giving for our time.
Doug Haney:
I'm struck by your question: if (should) Easter be postponed. I wonder if the wisdom of the Christian year holds part of the answer: what I mean is (as I understand it) Lent is 40 days, right? But there are 46 days from Ash Wednesday to Easter. How does that math work? Because Sundays are "in Lent" but not "of Lent" - Sundays are still days of resurrection. This is the paradox of life: dying and rising. This points to the hope that is not seen, eh? Your question is a pastorally sensitive one, so we'll have to all figure these things out in our particular contexts. For now, it seems leaning into Lent and the wordless sighs and groans seems fitting.
Larry E. Schultz:
Yes, my wondering is certainly paradoxical! I am often, like your accurate and meaningful description, on the other side of the coin reminding folks that every Sunday is a “little Easter” (which makes another interesting discussion on why we put away our “alleluias” during these Sundays). Those little Easters, if expressed with care, can certainly bring a hopeful view and a helpful cycle in the midst of suffering. I was, of course, referring to Western Christianity’s Easter Sunday (and especially the American Christian Easter) this year. Watching horrific images on CNN the night you posed this question, I couldn’t (and still can’t) imagine a full-throated “Hallelujah chorus” on Easter Day if “Christs” in Ukraine were still being crucified.
It seems that the Bible, the prescribed Christian Year, the lectionary, are all helpful until they are not – perhaps this is when the “living word,” “living liturgy” or “living cycle of seasons” takes over, reflecting the truth we are all living. This kind of thinking may arise from those of us in free church traditions, who, for instance, might select some lectionary passages over others or create our own lectionaries. Additionally, I serve a congregation whose Easter theology is about the “resurrected Christ” in contemporary life instead of a fact about the historical Jesus. I’m sure this thinking also influences my wonderings.
This conversation leads to so many others, including the importance for worship planners to remember that every Sunday congregants gather as individuals, as a faith community, as a local/state/national community, and as a global community – all these identities (and others) carry with them both joys and concerns at every gathering. As we are offering exuberant joy, someone or some group is experiencing the depths of sorrow. It’s a tricky balance, but a worthy pastoral goal, to gauge what a particular congregation needs to authentically experience and express in any given moment, and that scale is sometimes tipped heavily in one direction.
Here’s a concluding complimentary question and prayer: What if suddenly, in the middle of Lent, invasion was reversed, uprooted lives were made well, freedom for all restored? I know for myself, no matter the tradition, even on a Lenten Monday, I’d be gathering the congregation to sing: “Hallelujah!”
Doug Haney:
Good thoughts all.
I think you nailed it with your concern about the incongruence of Handel’s Hallelujah chorus on this particular Easter – especially if this war continues (and even if the bombs have stopped dropping, I am concerned about a protracted insurgency that is hardly a true peace).
And yet – faith, HOPE and love abide. So, I’ll make the case for Alleluias, too.
Sometimes we sing Alleluia because there is some semblance to Shalom in the world; and sometimes we sing Alleluias in spite of the fact that Shalom is still a far-off promise. You’ve given me much to consider.
Have you read the article about Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s inclusion of the German hymns of Paul Gerhardt in his letters of prison (in the latest edition of “The Hymn”)? I only mention this because like Paul and Silas we know Bonhoeffer sang in prison. And if he could do that in a Nazi prison “how can we keep from singing” – and yes, maybe even sing some Alleluias on Easter.
Be well, friend.
Larry E. Schultz
Thank, you, Doug, for your thoughtful responses and food for thought as we strive for authentic worship in our congregations.
You also be well.
(P.S. With your permission, I think our Facebook conversation has just become my church website blog entry!) 😊