In the Beginning...

As I struggle to find one and only one thing to talk about with the creation story, I'm also preparing for the Festival of Homiletics. As I start to read about separating the sea from the dry land, I start to wonder what the weather will be like in Minneapolis. As I wade through commentaries and become inundated with the wealth of inspiring stuff on Genesis 1-2, I start the packing list in my head. I'm struggling to accomplish anything. As one Crow Indian I worked with years ago said of going to a pow-wow, "up here (pointing to his head), I'm already there."

Up here, I'm already there...unfortunately, "there" is not my sermon.

I've also been contemplating words. There's a quote from My Fair Lady where Eliza Doolittle after weeks of practicing speaking "correctly" exclaims "WORDS WORDS WORDS!" I'm beginning to feel that way about worship planning. It's only words. I gather words for liturgy from the four winds, carefully pick the ones that are life-giving and freeing and affirm God's love and our purpose. I string together what often feels like self-absorbed, self-important words for a sermon. I choose hymns based, not on the hymn tunes which would be my preference, but on the words and meanings they convey. And each Sunday, I show up in faith at church. We say these carefully picked words. I deliver my carefully, sometimes, worded sermon. We sing our hymns of words. And at the end of the day, I have to trust that the words meant something to someone. But when have we heard someone say, "wow! that call to worship was really inspiring!"

I believe in words. Not just the Word. I believe words can free us. I believe words can liberate our souls from previously read or stated destructive words. But our worship order and manner seems completely inundated with words. I wonder if we miss the forrest for the trees.

Having been to Taize several times, I've accepted that I'm a leader in the wrong tradition. Taize worship is musical, rather than liturgical. As a musician, I'd much prefer a worship centered on music rather than words. And the words we sing at Taize in the songs, sung repetitively, begin to sink into your soul just as much as the melodies you find yourself singing in the shower the next morning. Taize reminds me less is more when it comes to words. But our order of worship doesn't seem to accomodate that theory. Because if we had fewer words in worship, we'd be done in 30 minutes or less. So we fill up time with more words...a longer prayer of confession, longer sermon, maybe we take a break and throw in a period of silence (blessed silence in the flood of words).

There has to be a better way. In a larger church with a more accomplished pianist or organist than our blessed volunteer one, I could make use of music more. But I must work with the cards we've been dealt. And I'm having trouble thinking outside the box. I'm having trouble being creative. I'm having trouble coming up with a better way. So I continue stringing words together.

I'm hoping the FEstival will offer me new hope and a better stewardship of God's holy words.

But all of this, really, is just a bunch of words.