Pub Date : 2021-07-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063X.2021.1951087
L. Ruth
Since the 1960s two liturgical tsunamis have swept over the entire globe, adjusting the worship of Christians worldwide. The first is the Liturgical Movement. Of the two tsunamis, readers of Liturgy are probably the most familiar with this one. Gaining momentum in earlier serious studies of patristic-era worship, this movement hit its stride in the 1960s with the post-Vatican II liturgical reforms in Roman Catholicism. The impulse spilled over to a variety of other mainline Protestant liturgical traditions. If you are a worshiper, musician, or pastor in one of those traditions, I am willing to bet your Sunday worship has been impacted by the Liturgical Movement, whether in the use of a three-year lectionary, a new emphasis upon the sacraments as the center of Christian life, a robust following of the church year, or a revision of liturgical texts sparked by the strength of early ways of worshiping. This Liturgical Movement had a broad impact, one wider than just providing new resources for Sunday morning. One of the concerns of the Movement was an educational goal, namely, to teach worshipers a new vision of worship. The hope was not only that participation in the new worship be full, conscious, and active but also that we could understand new ways more deeply. The Liturgical Conference, so named because it used to hold large teaching conferences, and its journal, Liturgy, which you are now reading, were part of the educational reach of this Liturgical Movement. So also were various other programs, including the doctoral program in liturgical studies at the University of Notre Dame, of which I am an alumnus. Here I waded into the vast sea of historical and theological reflection on the church’s liturgy, guided by leading professors in the field. It was an exhilarating experience, one which is still deeply formative for me. I would not trade it for anything. But I have discovered a gap in my education and formation in the Liturgical Movement, namely, an ability to discuss easily worship from the angle of the Bible. Simply put, I did not have a fully formed biblical theology of worship. I have discovered that lacuna as my research dives more deeply into studying the second liturgical tsunami, the music-driven way of worship that is often known in America as Contemporary Worship, but known more globally (and in the United States among nonwhite and/or non-mainline congregations) as Praise and Worship. For an all-embracing term, I will call it Contemporary Praise and Worship. The global impact of this second tsunami has been as widespread as the first and occurred at approximately the same time, facts that American mainline Christians might not know since our focus was on a few
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Pub Date : 2021-07-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063x.2021.1951081
L. Ruth
Here’s my candidate for perhaps the biggest understatement of the year: the pandemic has been disorienting. I don’t think my experience has been exceptional but, even if it has just been me, the last twelve months or so have felt like a crash course in learning how to live in a new culture. It has felt as if I went to bed one night, safe and secure under the comforter of my old culture, and the next morning I rolled out of bed with my feet landing on the cold, hard floor of having to learning new ways of living, relating, and working immediately. It felt as if I went to sleep one night in my comfy home in Durham, North Carolina and woke up, hungry, the next morning in Dzhangyaryk, Kyrgyzstan. (You’re forgiven if you have to use Google Maps to find it.) Part of that disorientation has spilled over into worship as we have had to learn how to indigenize our services into a new culture of social distancing and online platforms. Not only has this been a struggle for those who plan and lead worship but even for those of us who have had to learn how to participate as online worshipers as fully, consciously, and actively as we can. We went to bed one night, eager to wake up and drive to church buildings the next morning, sit in our usual spots, and exchange the peace face-to-face with people we love dearly. But we woke up having to learn how to plan worship remotely, navigate unfamiliar platforms to somehow make it accessible, and still somehow enable God’s church to lose itself in wonder, love, and praise. As a worship professor, I have learned, too, that some of my old categories for teaching others how to plan and lead worship were just insufficient. At times these categories were just unhelpful. For instance, one day I was teaching James F. White’s categories for different liturgical spaces and centers to my Introduction to Christian Worship course. White, a renowned liturgical historian, had developed these categories as part of his specialization in liturgical architecture, past and present. According to White, there are regularly six “spaces” found in liturgical architecture: gathering, movement, congregational, choir, baptismal, and altar-table (i.e., Eucharistic). In addition, White identifies four liturgical “centers”: baptismal font/pool, altar/table, the presider’s chair, and the pulpit/ambo/lectern. I know no better summary of traditional liturgical space and so I regularly teach White’s schema in this class to help students decipher already existing buildings and contemplate organizing new spatial arrangements for worship. In February 2021 I did just that and waited for the students to shake nodding heads of approval and recognition. I saw no nodding heads as I looked through Zoom at the students and, if I had, those heads would have been shaking left and right in disagreement, not up and down in approval. Finally, a hand shot up. I called on the student. And the question of this time was asked: “Professor, what does any of this have to do
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Pub Date : 2021-07-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063X.2021.1951086
L. E. Phillips
Can persons from diverse traditions remain true to their distinctive religious commitments while participating in Christian worship? This is a huge question, obviously, and I begin with the disclaimer that I will not pretend to be able to answer this question from the side of other religions. It may be very possible for a devotee of some religions, Hinduism, for example, to participate in Christian worship on their own terms and without fear that this violates their basic belief system or religious practices. What I want to explore in this thought experiment, however, is this: regardless of the beliefs of others, what should Christians tell (let us say “warn”) non-Christian attenders about the effects of participation in Christian worship, focusing on the specific case of the Lord’s Supper?
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Pub Date : 2021-07-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063X.2021.1951084
T. Johnson
I had just begun my orientation as new faculty member at Loyola University in Chicago—an evangelical hired to teach liturgy and sacraments—when a venerable and a bit grizzled Jesuit approached me before the start of an orientation session on “The Values of a Jesuit Education.” “So, you’re a liturgist,” he cackled. “I once was at a meeting in Rome in the Fifties where we discussed when Jesus gave Saint Peter the Canon of the Mass. What do you think about that?” Like a pitcher throwing an inside fastball, he waited to see if I would flinch. “Well, that depends on what you decided,” I replied. He looked at me with a wry grin and said, “You’ll do fine here, Sonny.” As laughable as the premise of said conference was, liturgists have been pursuing similar liturgical bedrock for some time. Where is it that we find the liturgical Rosetta Stone? In the New Testament, the second century, or the fourth century? Maybe elsewhere? The fact is that the relationship between authority and tradition is often negotiated by historical precedence and resources. It is this quest that I would like to use to frame my examination of the Ancient-Future Worship movement. I am not entirely objective in this task. The Ancient-Future paradigm was created by Robert Webber, for whom I edited a festschrift. Also in my first year at Fuller Theological Seminary, I taught a doctoral seminar on “Ancient-Future Worship.” This seminar had three components: first, an assessment of the historical sources used by Webber using historical methods for the study of liturgy developed by Paul Bradshaw and his colleagues; second, an assessment of contemporary culture and its relationship to Webber’s appraisal of contemporary culture; and last, the compatibility of the use of ancient rituals and practices in contemporary culture. Ironically, my first year at Fuller was one of Bob’s last years on earth, as he was living with terminal cancer. I invited Bob to come out to visit Fuller and meet with my seminar and with other groups on campus as well. Bob accepted my invitation and made one of his very last trips. Here my students and I were able to engage Bob about his work and our research. It was in this week when Bob revealed a number of insights into his thoughts and hopes.
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Pub Date : 2021-07-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063X.2021.1951082
Michelle K. Baker-Wright
Over the past year, we have gained a keener ritual awareness. As the tragedies and profound challenges of the pandemic have unfolded during 2020 and 2021, popular and academic writers alike have lamented the collective loss of ritual, in both religious and secular contexts, that has come as a consequence. Even before the tragedies surrounding Covid-19 disrupted our lives, we saw a surge of popular interest in ritual. Books such as Charles Duhigg’s The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business, and James Clear’s Atomic Habits: An Easy and Proven Way to Build Good Habits and Break Bad Ones have been New York Times bestsellers. However, with the onset of Covid-19, these discussions took on a more urgent tone. Whereas before, the focus was largely upon employing ritual patterns in service of self-improvement, the emphasis switched to discussions about how to intentionally use ritual to regain a sense of control. For example, in America magazine, Susan Bigelow Reynolds observed significant ritual changes.
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Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063X.2021.1895642
Seforosa Carroll
The Pacific, “the liquid continent,” is among a number of countries in the world on the forefront of climate change. The Pacific Island Countries (PICs) have been identified as a cluster of countries under threat due to climate change in international agreements, academic writings and the media. The “most significant effects of climate change include reductions in agricultural productivity; reductions in water quantity and quality, with associated impacts on agriculture, health; increases in climatic events; coastal erosion and inundation as a result of extreme events and sea level rise.” The impact of climate change is anticipated to displace up to 250 million people worldwide by 2050. The office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) estimates that “an annual average of 21.5 million people have been forcibly displaced by weather-related sudden onset hazards–such as floods, storms, wildfires, extreme temperature–each year since 2008.” The Internal Displacement Monitoring Center’s (IDMC) 2016 global displacement report recorded 19.2 million NEW displacements across 113 countries as a result of disasters in 2015. In the first six months of 2020, the IDMC reported 14.6 million new internal displacements across 127 countries of which 9.8 million was due to disasters and the remaining 4.8 million triggered by conflict and violence. The impact of climate change is already evident and felt in the Pacific in a variety of ways. For those in Tuvalu, Kiribati, Marshall Islands, Tokelau, and the Maldives time is already running out. The rising sea level, the “overflowing ocean” is drowning them out. Several coastal communities across the Pacific have already been relocated due to environmental degradation. In Fiji, for example, up to thirty-four coastal villages have been identified for relocation inland due to rising sea or river levels. Five of the Solomon Islands have already been lost to the rising sea. The people of the Carteret islands in Papua New Guinea have already experienced the complexities of resettlement in Bougainville. Within the last four years Tonga, Vanuatu, Fiji, and Samoa have experienced destructive category 4 and 5 cyclones. The effects of El Nino are currently affecting the highlands of PNG, parts of Vanuatu, and Fiji. Many continue to die of hunger due to famine. It is expected that 4.37 million people in the Pacific are likely to be at risk from drought. Retreat from a Rising Sea traces the causes behind rising sea levels and the implications for diverse coastlines, demonstrating the impact of global warming and rising sea levels beyond the global South. The authors detail specific threats faced by Miami, New Orleans, New York, and Amsterdam. Aware that sea level has changed throughout the earth’s long history, they emphasize how global variations in the sea level “are due to changes in the volume of the earth’s oceans... and very gradual changes in the capacity of ocean basins” as well as the “direction and i
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Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063x.2021.1895632
J. Neal
In her essay “Vesper Flights,” Helen Macdonald describes the evening ascent of flocks of swifts into the upper atmosphere. These birds, which never descend to the ground, rise nearly 8,000 feet every dusk and dawn to read weather patterns, see the stars, and orient themselves. Swifts spend only a few months on their breeding grounds, MacDonald explains. “The rest of the time they’re moving.” Once called “demon birds” because of their unintelligibility to border-bound peoples, MacDonald describes swifts as the “closest things to aliens on Earth.” Our contemporary world is familiar with the demonization of border-crossers, also regularly described as “aliens.” Humanity is on the move, migrating in record numbers to escape disorienting loss. The United Nations estimates that at the end of 2019, 79.5 million persons were living as refugees, displaced by natural disaster, climate crises, or war. Added to this number are migrations fueled by globalization and economic hardship. Given these shifting populations, the contextual discipline of preaching is also undergoing significant change. Preaching, like any rhetorical practice, is shaped by a particular place and time. What difference do those who have experienced displacement bring to its study? This issue of Liturgy focuses on the significance of displaced communities for the study and practice of preaching. Human communities are different than the swifts MacDonald describes of course, and the losses incurred from falling bombs and rising oceans should not be normalized or idealized. Such losses are fierce. But the affected communities glean wisdom in their reorienting work. They witness to weather systems of colonial power that continue to rage, and they see navigational stars that place-bound communities miss. They frame a critical, contemporary, homiletic question: How does place matter — and how does it not? What changes through experiences of displacement, and what remains the same? Such inquiries require theoretical, theological, and pedagogical migrations in a field easily plagued by settled homogeneity. Homileticians like Pablo Jim enez, and theologians like Willie Jennings and Kwok Pui-Lan, have noted that theological education, including the teaching of preaching, continues to center on the experience of white, North American communities, a proclivity rooted in colonialism and the North Atlantic slave trade. The wisdom and experiences of dislocated communities are essential conversation partners as the homiletic discipline undergoes its own necessary migration, dislocating its insular understandings of preaching history, genre, and pedagogy. The structure of this issue will keep these dual migrations in view: (1) the migrations within the field of preaching itself and (2) the concrete ways that dislocated persons have preached in response to migration. The first three essays in the issue describe the shifting ground of contemporary homiletic study, underscoring the value of these dislocatio
海伦·麦克唐纳在她的文章《雨燕飞行》中描述了成群的雨燕在傍晚上升到高层大气中的情景。这些从不降落在地面上的鸟，每天黄昏和黎明都会上升近8000英尺，阅读天气模式，观察星星，并确定自己的方位。麦克唐纳解释说，Swifts只在繁殖地呆上几个月。“剩下的时间它们都在移动。”麦克唐纳曾被称为“恶魔鸟”，因为它们对边境居民来说很难理解，他将雨燕描述为“地球上最接近外星人的东西”。我们当代的世界熟悉对越境者的妖魔化，他们也经常被描述为“外星人”。人类正在移动，以创纪录的数量迁徙以避免迷失方向的损失。联合国估计，截至2019年底，7950万人以难民身份生活，因自然灾害、气候危机或战争而流离失所。除此之外，还有全球化和经济困难导致的移民潮。鉴于人口的不断变化，传教的背景学科也在发生重大变化。说教，就像任何修辞实践一样，都是由特定的地点和时间塑造的。那些经历过流离失所的人给它的研究带来了什么不同？本期《Liturgy》聚焦于流离失所社区对传教研究和实践的意义。当然，人类社区与麦克唐纳描述的雨燕不同，炸弹坠落和海洋上升造成的损失不应被标准化或理想化。这样的损失是巨大的。但受影响的社区在重新调整工作的过程中获得了智慧。他们见证了殖民势力的天气系统继续肆虐，他们看到了地方社区错过的导航之星。他们提出了一个关键的、当代的、说教式的问题：地方如何重要——又如何不重要？流离失所的经历会改变什么，什么保持不变？这样的研究需要在一个容易被固定的同质性所困扰的领域进行理论、神学和教育学的迁移。巴勃罗·希门尼斯（Pablo Jim enez）等学者以及威利·詹宁斯（Willie Jennings）和郭佩兰（Kwok Pui Lan）等神学家指出，神学教育，包括传教，继续以北美白人社区的经历为中心，这种倾向植根于殖民主义和北大西洋奴隶贸易。错位社区的智慧和经验是必不可少的对话伙伴，因为说教学科经历了必要的迁移，错位了其对说教历史、流派和教育学的狭隘理解。这个问题的结构将考虑到这些双重移民：（1）传教领域内的移民本身，以及（2）流离失所者为应对移民而传教的具体方式。本期的前三篇文章描述了当代凶杀研究的变化，强调了这些错位在重新定位学科方面的价值。埃德加·“特雷”·克拉克三世（Edgar“Trey”Clark III）将注意力集中在欧洲和北美大陆之外，以此回应宣扬西方男性经历的历史。他的文章《从她在全球南方传教的故事中学习：对Rebecca Protten和Dora Yu传教生活的反思》利用两位研究不足的传教士的生活故事，根据传教士的个人和地点重新审视了公告的基本定义。Donyelle
{"title":"Preaching Migrations: Introduction","authors":"J. Neal","doi":"10.1080/0458063x.2021.1895632","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/0458063x.2021.1895632","url":null,"abstract":"In her essay “Vesper Flights,” Helen Macdonald describes the evening ascent of flocks of swifts into the upper atmosphere. These birds, which never descend to the ground, rise nearly 8,000 feet every dusk and dawn to read weather patterns, see the stars, and orient themselves. Swifts spend only a few months on their breeding grounds, MacDonald explains. “The rest of the time they’re moving.” Once called “demon birds” because of their unintelligibility to border-bound peoples, MacDonald describes swifts as the “closest things to aliens on Earth.” Our contemporary world is familiar with the demonization of border-crossers, also regularly described as “aliens.” Humanity is on the move, migrating in record numbers to escape disorienting loss. The United Nations estimates that at the end of 2019, 79.5 million persons were living as refugees, displaced by natural disaster, climate crises, or war. Added to this number are migrations fueled by globalization and economic hardship. Given these shifting populations, the contextual discipline of preaching is also undergoing significant change. Preaching, like any rhetorical practice, is shaped by a particular place and time. What difference do those who have experienced displacement bring to its study? This issue of Liturgy focuses on the significance of displaced communities for the study and practice of preaching. Human communities are different than the swifts MacDonald describes of course, and the losses incurred from falling bombs and rising oceans should not be normalized or idealized. Such losses are fierce. But the affected communities glean wisdom in their reorienting work. They witness to weather systems of colonial power that continue to rage, and they see navigational stars that place-bound communities miss. They frame a critical, contemporary, homiletic question: How does place matter — and how does it not? What changes through experiences of displacement, and what remains the same? Such inquiries require theoretical, theological, and pedagogical migrations in a field easily plagued by settled homogeneity. Homileticians like Pablo Jim enez, and theologians like Willie Jennings and Kwok Pui-Lan, have noted that theological education, including the teaching of preaching, continues to center on the experience of white, North American communities, a proclivity rooted in colonialism and the North Atlantic slave trade. The wisdom and experiences of dislocated communities are essential conversation partners as the homiletic discipline undergoes its own necessary migration, dislocating its insular understandings of preaching history, genre, and pedagogy. The structure of this issue will keep these dual migrations in view: (1) the migrations within the field of preaching itself and (2) the concrete ways that dislocated persons have preached in response to migration. The first three essays in the issue describe the shifting ground of contemporary homiletic study, underscoring the value of these dislocatio","PeriodicalId":53923,"journal":{"name":"Liturgy","volume":"36 1","pages":"1 - 2"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/0458063x.2021.1895632","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48392193","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063X.2021.1895651
Tito Madrazo
A few months ago, as my family was preparing to relocate from the Raleigh-Durham area, I was reminded once again of the unique hermeneutics at work in many Hispanic Protestant congregations. The occasion for this most recent reminder was an invitation to preach one last time at Iglesia Agua Viva, one of the principal sites of my multi-year ethnographic research project into Hispanic Protestant preaching in immigrant congregations. Although my time as a participantobserver at Agua Viva had ended several years earlier, I have maintained a close relationship with its co-pastors, Esteban and Diana, and many of its congregants as well. Esteban and Diana have called upon me regularly to preach in their absence when they were taking a vacation or engaging in short-term mission work in the Caribbean. While there are certainly other views as to how Hispanic preaching might—or even should—be oriented, this preaching experience provided still more evidence of the central finding of my study—that immigrant predicadores/preachers consistently focused their proclamation on healing the wounds their hearers had received through the trauma of migration and transnational identity.
几个月前，当我的家人准备从罗利-达勒姆地区搬迁时，我再次想起了在许多西班牙裔新教会众中发挥作用的独特解释学。最近的提醒是邀请我最后一次在Iglesia Agua Viva传教，这是我多年来在移民会众中进行西班牙裔新教传教民族志研究项目的主要地点之一。尽管我作为Agua Viva的参与者观察者的时间早在几年前就结束了，但我与它的联合牧师Esteban和Diana以及它的许多会众保持着密切的关系。埃斯特班和戴安娜在加勒比海度假或从事短期任务时，经常在他们不在的时候拜访我传教。虽然关于西班牙裔的传教可能——甚至应该——是如何导向的，肯定还有其他观点，但这一传教经历为我研究的核心发现提供了更多证据——移民困境者/传教士一直将他们的宣言重点放在治愈他们的听众在移民和跨国身份创伤中所受的创伤上。
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Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/0458063X.2021.1895649
Carol Tomlin
The exponential rise of Pentecostalism globally means that there is a need to re-consider how the gospel message is communicated through the act of preaching. While the context of white, western Protestantism has informed much homiletic training, the West is no longer the focal point of Christian faith. It is imperative, therefore, as Cleophus LaRue and Luiz Nascimento advocate, that homiletic scholars consider other distinctive forms of preaching in varied geographical spaces, reflecting the multiplicity of content, method, and practice, in contrast to the standard western homiletic tradition. For example, the lectionary, with its predetermined structured cycle of the liturgical year and associated scripture readings, is a popular approach in mainline denominations. Irrespective of sermon genre, the context of preaching is paramount for situating the content of the homily and critical to our understanding of the act of preaching itself. The aim of this paper is to analyze the ways in which the context and preaching of secondgeneration African Caribbean Pentecostals in Britain have diverged from their Windrush forebears, the first-generation Caribbean people who migrated to Britain during the post-World War II period. I will highlight the Windrush ministers among the migrants as well as the factors undergirding the development of the Pentecostal churches they established. I will consider the socio-economic challenges they faced and the societies from which they came as the context for the eschatological themes of their sermons, noting the connection between their approach to preaching and the African oral traditions. Though experiencing similar depressing conditions to their predecessors, the second generation had rather different responses as a consequence of heightened “black consciousness” and ensuing calls for their homilies to engage with social issues affecting their constituents. Significantly, this paper traces the preaching of the second generation as it moved away from the “end times” themes of their ancestors, incorporating instead experiences of everyday life. I argue that African Caribbean Pentecostalism has itself been shaped by context. The factors influencing the hermeneutics of the second generation have resulted in sermons that depart somewhat from the norms of their Windrush originators.
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