Monday, December 07, 2015

Faith Works 12-12-15

Faith Works 12-12-15

Jeff Gill

 

A performance of sorts

___

 

"Why go to church?" is a question I think worth asking, at this time of year when more visitors pop in than any other point in the calendar.

 

Why do visitors show up when they've not been around the rest of the year, and what should those of us who attend divine services regularly think about their motivations, and our own.

 

And we really should think intentionally about our own intentions if we're to relate to, and sympathetically understand what it is that visitors are looking for when they come through the doors of a church or worship center of any sort.

 

A few weeks back, we talked here about what it means to believe in, and to participate in a sacramental reality: there is a level, a dimension, a place in the cosmos for connections between the everyday and the infinite. If you believe that the acts of a faith tradition make that connection, and you hunger for such a connection yourself, you might reasonably go to a church service. For communion, out of a relationship formed through baptism, or any of the other events that some belief systems call a "sacramental act."

 

Then there's simply the desire to connect with someone else, to belong in a community of people and not just to wander about as an isolated individual. The Christmas season is a time when many of us simultaneously are looking for a community to belong to, and an escape from the crowd at large, the faceless nameless mob clogging the aisles and highways and now even the internet. When you have a sense of belonging in a congregation, paradoxically you can also go there to feel like you are more at home with yourself, as a silent worshiper in the midst of many others.

 

But this last note on "going to church" relates to something I've had a personal chance to spend lots of time on lately: concerts. My son is a senior in high school, he's a proficient musician in a number of contexts, and this is a time of year when the regular concerts and special events come thick and fast for bands and choirs and ensembles. Rehearsals aplenty, and performances left and right, near and far. Let's just say I've gotten to know the relative leg room of most of central Ohio's public spaces in the last few holiday seasons.

 

Worship is not a concert. But it includes many elements of the same. In the same way, church services are not performances, but the overlap is unmistakable. There can be backwash, in fact, and good worship leaders are mindful of that hazard. A soloist in a praise band can forget that Sunday is not American Idolatry or The Holy Voice, but a time for all to worship, and you have a role to play.

 

Kierkegaard helpfully noted that, to him, worship is indeed a performance . . . with an audience of One. The folks up front, clergy and musicians and choir or soloists, we're all more like the stage managers. And the ones giving a performance, in the best sense of offering yourself to the audience by giving your best, are the worshipers.

 

But it's God who is the true audience for worship. And it's to God that we come, when we go to church. God may be anywhere, I'd never doubt that for a minute, but it's also true that I can hear music in many forms, and at many venues, but I know where I want to be to hear that music reach me most directly. It won't be through earbuds, probably not on a screen, and it won't necessarily be in the glossiest of live presentations: it's when I have a stake in the performers, a sense of the time and work they've put in, and then the entire package speaks to me in mind, body, and spirit.

 

I'm sure there are better concerts for particular pieces of music than some I've heard in high school auditoriums or from local stages. But that sense of connection, along with a very real belief that it's in community that a sense of the sacred can open up the doors of my heart, is why the songs and hymns and anthems and tunes played in my presence, by those who care about the same lasting hopes and dreams I have, are where I want to be. It's part of what gets me to church each Sunday, and a variety of other places each week where arts and music and drama reach out beyond mere performance, and become something more.

 

See you in church – maybe even in a church building!

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; he's got a song in his heart but knows it's better if someone else sings it out loud for him. Tell him about your love of worship at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.

Wednesday, December 02, 2015

Faith Works 12-5-15

Faith Works 12-5-15

Jeff Gill

 

Belonging is something different

___

 

We were talking recently about the question "why go to church?"

 

This is a time of year faith communities of almost any sort see an uptick in the number of visitors, and long-absent folk coming back to worship.

 

The question has one answer I already tossed out, which is that there is something sacred going on in corporate worship, an avenue to the divine that cannot be accessed just anywhere. Some Christian traditions point to baptism and communion, acts of entrance and sustenance in one's relationship to God, as being "outward and visible signs of an inward, invisible grace."

 

In other churches, there are five and even seven such "sacraments," acts of the church where a connection to Almighty God is uniquely possible. (See your leadership for details!)

 

But as a few wrote in to ask me, what if you don't believe in the sacred? If you are rigorously non-supernatural in outlook, if you don't believe in a "life beyond life" or a world of the spirit in any way, then I've said there's no point in going, haven't I?

 

Well, not really. For one thing, I suspect that there are people who are looking for faith who just haven't found it yet; you could say I believe there are many who are seeking that connection, but as they seek, they don't yet know for sure. Coming to church is a way of testing those impulses out. Is there a heaven? Does God exist? Believe it or not, most churches talk out loud about such questions, even in Advent.

 

And whether you desire faith, or are just not feeling it – maybe you once did, perhaps something happened to drive it out of your heart, sometimes folks walk away for reasons imposed on them more than chose – you may still choose to come to corporate worship because you want a connection to people.

 

There are lots of people in shopping centers and college gymnasiums, but we all tend to be cheering or shopping or looking past each other in the crowd. In church, we can end up looking at each other, and asking (even if silently) "so you, too, are looking for something more in life?"

 

I think pastors and church leaders can miss the fact that this is a powerful reason to come to Sunday services, or other congregational events, and we have to speak as if they are in the room. If we say everything as if we all of us are buttoned-down, set for the journey, confident of the destination, then those who are still trying to figure out where they're getting a ticket to may just slip out of the station before the steam is up.

 

A mere acknowledgment occasionally that seekers and searches are certainly present can be a balm for a hurting soul. I've heard it many times, that a loneliness was eased by my having just tossed off an aside that presumed that not everyone was robust and certain in their faith. It opens doors, or maybe windows, for Emily Dickinson's "Hope" that is "the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words…"

 

And sometimes, people come to church just to sing. More on that next week!

 

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; he knows that not all who seek are lost. Tell him about your special holiday services at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.

Tuesday, December 01, 2015

Theatre review – “A Christmas Carol: The Musical”

Theatre review – "A Christmas Carol: The Musical"

[for immediate release]

Jeff Gill

 

Charles Dickens was once just 30 miles from Newark in 1842. He was passing through Ohio on his first US tour, overnighting in Columbus across from the Statehouse.

 

With the very next year, back in London, the great novelist wrote his enduring "A Christmas Carol." That story reached back into traditions from a generation before in England, and drew on themes that had been stirring his mind ever since those American travels, resulting in perhaps his most famous characters: Ebenezer Scrooge & Tiny Tim.

 

Dickens would recognize in an instant his entire cast on the stage of the Licking County Players. Old Scrooge, his clerk Bob Cratchit and family, nephew Fred and (late) partner Jacob Marley – these creations of Nineteenth Century imagination have a vivid and musical Twenty-first Century life here in Newark.

 

Dennis Kohler is a stern and sorrowful Scrooge, more choleric than cruel, but clearly needing a little life review and attitude adjustment. That is provided through Christmases past, present, and yet-to-be, embodied in this production by the Lamplighter, Sandwich Boardman, and Blind Old Hag, hauntingly portrayed by Katy Selfe, Thor Collard, and Micki Cotterman.

 

Scrooge is softened not just by those spirits, but by the childlike grace of Tiny Tim, winsomely played by Bob Wright. Robert Rager as Fred stands up to his uncle, and while it can't be said that Bob Cratchit resists his employer's gruff handling, Eric Wright's meekness in the role does inherit some deserved praise, along with having most of his actual family on stage.

 

Director Aara Wise has filled the W. Main Street playhouse with a London neighborhood's worth of characters, including a mob of children who all ably play their parts. With over forty in the cast, it's impossible to give due credit across the boards, but they make for an imposing chorus in the glorious finale. Music director Thom Ogilvie has taken on a truly large challenge and kept the harmonies close while giving many individual voices a chance to shine. Phil Graham's set is a puzzle box that is continually folding and unfolding to reveal new scenes and different perspectives within and without.

 

A family looking for a boost of seasonal spirit would do well to come downtown, check out the festively lit Courthouse, and enjoy this production as part of the Licking County Players' 50th anniversary season. The show is about two hours long including a fifteen minute intermission; this reviewer watched a dress rehearsal, but Marley's chains clanked no less ominously for all that. Small children's parents may note a few incidents of strong language and the appearance of ghosts, but they are more comedic than terrifying: just frightening enough to get Scrooge's attention.

 

While the size of the cast limits individual comment, Anna Hittepole was quite affecting in her sad solo as a motherless girl, as was Joe Wright in his turn as little Scrooge, and Misti Tidman as Mrs. Fezziwig brought an impressive emphasis to an often overlooked part (watch for "How Mrs. Fezziwig Got Her Groove Back" in some future season).  

 

"A Christmas Carol: The Musical" with music by Alan Menken, lyrics by Lynn Ahrens, and book by Mike Ockrent first appeared on Broadway in 1994, regularly performed in New York and around the world ever since. It became a popular film musical of the same title starring Kelsey Grammer in 2004.

 

Performance schedule

Performances run Dec. 3 through the 13th, at 131 W. Main St. at 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday and 2 p.m. Sunday. Tickets may be reserved by calling 740-349-2287 or at www.lickingcountyplayers.org.

 

 

 

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Notes From My Knapsack 12-3-15

Notes From My Knapsack 12-3-15
Jeff Gill

Syrian refugees may need some assistance
___

Even if I've not quite followed all the details in the news, it seems that we may have some refugees from Syria heading our way in the foreseeable future.

I've had the privilege of working with a number of refugee families through the years, coming as they have under the sponsorship of congregations, sent through the auspices of the federal government and various national church bodies. They've been from either hemisphere, from Cambodia to Azerbaijan, and they've all been an honor to assist.

Motivation and discipline and hard work have been foremost among the gifts they bring to this country, even if their command of the language may start out on the rough side. And in fact, their written and basic understanding of English has been fairly smooth, but the edges and abrasions and points of friction come from our culture, which is a hard thing to teach about in a book. How we live is something we just do, more than talk about. It's not something we can even explain to ourselves most days.

To stand next to someone with more years of education than you have, and see their bewilderment standing in the breakfast cereal aisle . . . do you explain this strangeness, or just turn them gently towards the oatmeal shelf where the choice is between "old fashioned" or "one minute," and only deal with explaining that small distinction?

When military parades were commonplace in their former home, how do you interpret the celebratory fondness we have for marching bands, accompanied by young women tossing fake wooden rifles in the air? Is it a logical evolution and march of peaceful progress from what they've known, or is it best understood as something else entirely?

Most refugees come from places where random violence and the open display of weaponry is common; how do you help them understand what safety means in this country, where crime tends to be more personal or geographic, rather than factional or political? When the ownership of firearms exceeds anything they knew in a strife-torn homeland, but it's presented as a sporting or recreational proposition, the puzzled looks they'll give you are understandable from their own calamitous experience.

Generally, transportation is something they have a more formal and structured relationship with than the house by house or person by person approach we take to travel decisions. "Let's take two cars" being the usual farewell between two people even in the same family, going to the same destination. Seeing people walking or running isn't strange in their experience, but finding out that most of those on foot are just on a loop starting from and returning back to their homes: why? Explaining "exercise" can be challenging.

And then there's Christmas. It's the odd refugee indeed who's never heard of the observance, but an American Christmas – from Washington Irving to Charles Dickens (whose "A Christmas Carol" will be at Licking County Players the next two weekends), through Clement Clarke Moore and Robert L. May – it's a very particular thing yet it includes a wide variety of inputs, from the British and the Dutch to Montgomery Ward's and Macy's. How do you account for our Christmas in 500 words or less?

Perhaps the best way we can prepare to welcome refugees from another culture is to make sure to stop and try to understand our own first.

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County. Tell him about your experience with refugees and immigrants of all sorts at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Faith Works 11-28-15

Faith Works 11-28-15

Jeff Gill

 

Subjects of concern, matters of faith

___

 

This has been a year full of unwelcome subjects, to speak candidly as a pastor, a preacher, and a columnist.

 

There are matters we want to talk about, things we know we should be discussing, and then there are those shadows across our path that we're used to just ignoring.

 

Global affairs and local incidents have put the phrase "active shooter" on everyone's lips. If you have a child in school, you've realized that the fearful drills of "duck and cover" for nuclear attack have been replaced with dress rehearsals for an unthinkable individual entering the building. Kids don't come home saying "hey, there was a tornado drill" since those are so regular and routine they barely register; the new topic of conversation is about ALICE. (More about "her" in a moment.)

 

Churches as a place of public assembly have long had an ambivalent relationship with these matters. There may or may not be a severe weather plan, and there likely aren't designated persons to manage that situation, except for some congregations with a fully developed security team that handles the parking lots and entrance & exit issues.

 

The church building where I'm pastor still has a 1950's era "Fallout Shelter" sign near one door, with the capacity long peeled away, and the supplies once in a closet under the stairs thrown out. We were in some form part of the Civil Defense response plan back then.

 

Fire code and inspections have us put up exit plans and check our emergency lighting, and that along with fire extinguishers and smoke detectors are part of the standard set of concerns for property committees and trustees. But lately, as a church leader, you can feel the pressure increasing to be more ready.

 

Not more ready as in being part of a community reaction plan, with the Red Cross or the local emergency response team, but internally, to a sudden shocking event. The requests are rising up above mere suggestions, and the insistence can be felt not just from the fire inspectors and state offices, but from your insurance carrier, denominational bodies: and even the Department of Homeland Security is sending clergy and churches helpful hints about "critical incident response" planning.

 

"Run-Hide-Fight" is how we're hearing it back from our younger schoolchildren; in the higher grades, at colleges and civic offices, we're being trained in Alert, Lockdown, Inform, Counter, Evacuate - A.L.I.C.E.

 

Like most acronyms, it's easy to be dismissive of the whole thing. I'm going to remember all that? But with regular training, and some visual reinforcement, plus having clearly designated people with the task of handling those first couple of steps IMMEDIATELY – whether we're talking about a funnel cloud, a gas leak, or a guy with a gun seen in a stairwell – it's a very workable method to teach preparedness.

 

Honestly, I'm not ready to do a sermon on this. My natural inclination is to pray, and invite others to do the same, and ask for clarity of thought and action to help us behave rightly in a crisis. To, as the Scripture says, "seek the mind of Christ."

 

Then I remember that the Bible does not say much to me about how we safely use an elevator or a boiler system. We have responsible parties, regular checks and re-checks, and a plan of action that is needed when something like that goes wrong. And as the police and insurance and other official bodies remind us, if we are in the business of bringing large numbers of people together in a visible location on a regular basis, we'd be irresponsible NOT to have some sort of "critical incident response plan" and to regularly orient key leaders and do training each year around this. It's not borrowing trouble, it's just a reality of life along with having fire extinguishers on each floor, and not just ignoring them for seven or eight years until we need one, and it doesn't work.

 

So we're talking, at my church, about "Run-Hide-Fight," and about ALICE, and about who does what. Not who's going to be a hero, or how we're just going to pray enemies away from ever opening our door, but having the basics of assembly and evacuation ready to undergird our faith with action.

 

What is your faith community saying about this sort of planning? Should we? How shall we? I will be glad to share other ideas on this troubling topic.

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County. Tell him about your critical incident response plan at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.