The pornographic difference between the mega-church and the liturgical church August 25, 2009
Posted by Damian in Liturgy & Ritual, Psychology and Religion.Tags: constantinople, contemporary worship, conversion, converting, hillsong, mega-church, megachurch, mystery, pornography, ritual, rome, sacrament, spiritual, tradition, worship
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Ben Myers recently wrote a post (or reposted) on virtual reality in mega-church worship, and then a response to that post by a pentecostal mega-churchgoer (both in reference to Hillsong Sydney). However, Ben mentioned a post he had written a while ago, named the Pornographer’s Dream.
In it, he wonders if the conversion of Pentecostalism is a result of what he phrases the ‘pornography’ of contemporary experiential worship.
Where every church service becomes the opportunity for a life-changing experience of the divine presence; where every song and sermon and prayer is designed to produce immediate emotional impact; where the whole Christian life is transformed into the pursuit of a “naked” experience of the divine – here, the final outcome can only be a profound and paralysing boredom. And for those subjected to such boredom, the only remaining spiritual desire is for a mysterious God, a God not merely naked and exposed, but clothed in ritual, sacrament, tradition.
Why are so many evangelicals converting to Rome and Constantinople? Perhaps their infinitely deferred quest for a Deus nudus has finally resulted in an unbearable boredom. Perhaps they’re dreaming of a God who is not always promiscuously available to immediate experience, but is instead “hidden in veils, covered in silk” – a more modest, and therefore more sexy God.
This is a view that I find both interesting and appealing, as it does not denigrate the mega-church experience (which certainly played an important role in my spiritual formation), but rather simply explains the difference between the two experiences, and why some would prefer one to another, and why preferences between the two might change over time.
Maundy Thursday April 10, 2009
Posted by Damian in Liturgy & Ritual.Tags: christ, easter, love, maundy thursday, passover
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Maundy ‘ Mandatum Novum’ Thursday commemorates the night before Jesus was taken. I attended the service last night, and it was one of the most beautiful, sad services I’ve attended. It was intimate yet reverent, still focused on God and sacrament whilst being a kind of farewell to Christ before his death on the cross.
Jewish celebrations like Passover involve a kind of merging of times, such that the participants are the Israelites fleeing Egypt, even though they are gathering together now, thousands of years later.
The Holy Week services are similar, I feel, recreating – or allowing us to participate – in the events that transpired two thousand years ago. The disrobing of the clergy, the washing of feet, the removal of ritual and ceremony, the extinguishing of light, and the watch that we fail to keep, all place us there in the place of Christ’s dear friends in his final days. This year in particular, the picture of the clergy walking out of the cathedral into the rain in the darkness and with an unseen choir singing in Latin, was moving.
It reminds us that before he went away, Christ told us to love each other in humility in his absense. How much more are we to love each other after his return?
All Hallow’s Eve October 29, 2008
Posted by Damian in Liturgy & Ritual, Psychology and Religion.Tags: all hallows eve, all saints, celebrations, christ, Christians, Christmas, church yards, death, easter, halloween, holidays, monsters, samhain, sanctification, the unknown, traditions
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In Australia where I live, we don’t celebrate Halloween. But, I think it’d be fun to do so, which is an opinion which isn’t particularly popular in the circles I’ve travelled in. So there are two questions here: Firstly, why is it that many Christian’s don’t want to celebrate Halloween and don’t want it celebrated? Secondly, why is it that I have absolutely no problem with it and, in fact, would enjoy introducing its celebration into my life?
There are a few reasons that I can understand might drive a Christian to dislike Halloween. The first, is it’s origins. It originates in the celtic festival Samhain, which was basically an autumn harvest festival. It was considered the point in the year where the barrier between the land of the dead and the land of the living was thinnest, and hence the evil dead might do harm to crops or livestock. So, they made big bonfires and wore masks to scare off the evil spirits. Jack o’ Lanterns, I believe, served a similar purpose.
Now I understand why a Christian might dislike that. It’s obviously not something that many Christians believe in. However, I don’t think that matters, and this is because of the time-honoured concept of sanctification. Christian’s sanctify things for Christ. Christmas was, too, a pagan celebration (this time, it was midwinter or Yule). Easter could be considered a Christian sanctification of Pesach. Genesis can be considered a sanctification of ancient near eastern creation myths. It’s a Christian tradition to take non-Christian festivals and sanctify them. Halloween is the celebration of the Vigil of All Saints Day, or “All Hallows’ Eve”. All Saints Day is a time to revere the saints, living and departed. Christians pray for the saints, and bring flowers to the graves of departed family. So, similar to the Samhain festival, it is a time where the dead and the living come into contact.
But that doesn’t mean that the masks are ok. Does it? Or the pumpkins? Well, maybe. But I don’t believe that, when the costumes are now worn for entirely different purposes, there is any need to oppose it. Whilst, hundreds of years ago, they were worn and made to scare off spirits, this doesn’t mean that they still are. In fact, most of the children who wear the costumes are just excited to play dress ups and eat candy.
I think a large problem is that death has become associated with evil and the occult in modern Christianity, largely because we are no longer exposed to death in our culture. Death doesn’t occur in the home anymore. When I first encountered cadavers at the beginning of my university degree, it was my first encounter with death. The first time had ever lost someone close to me was my grandmoth when I was twenty three. It was my father’s first time, too, at the age of fifty one. Death is hidden away in our culture, and this has fostered a fear of death that isn’t healthy.
This fear of death, I feel, is largely why many Christians are opposed to Halloween. But, this fear of death, to me, is one reason why we should not be. It is one night a year in which we can face this fear, albeit in a childish way. It gives us a way to face the scariness of the unseen, the uncanny and mysterious. Children can face the monsters under their beds. The night isn’t scary, it’s just unknown.
Death is something that needs to be faced, as it’s hidden away from us in hospitals, morgues and funeral homes or we’re hardened to it by action and horror movies. We need to face it as a real thing. In the past, churches were places for the dead and the living; the churchyard was full of graves. The Sunday School kids, after their lesson, played among them. Viewing the body occurred in the home. People died more regularly; death was closer to us all. And because of that, we were more aware of the gift that Christ gave us.
To me, in a way, the childish celebration of Halloween, a celebration of death and of the departed, is a celebration of what Christ has given us. In the same way as cheesy Christmas traditions celebrate Christ’s birth and cheesy Easter traditions celebrate Christ’s death and resurrection, Halloween too celebrates not Christ’s resurrection, but our own mortality and how Christ has delivered us from it.
It is the one place in these times where our mortality is front and centre.
I think we should celebrate it.
Tactile Prayer October 9, 2008
Posted by Damian in Eastern Orthodoxy, Liturgy & Ritual, Roman Catholicism.Tags: Anglicanism, Catholicism, christ, episcopalian, eucharist, On the flesh of Christ, Rosary, sacrament, sacred mystery, Sign of the Cross, tactile faith, Tertullian
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As readers probably know, lately I’ve become interested in church traditions I’d previous been totally alienated from; Catholic, Orthodox, High Anglican traditions. I’ve begun attending an Anglican cathedral, become interested in liturgy.
I am also curious – fascinated – by the concept of crossing oneself, of genuflexion, of the rosary. They seem to me somehow similar to the sacraments of Eucharist and baptism.
In the ‘high’ Eucharist, for the first time I felt true fear and trembling before the presence of the Lord, not just the eagerness and desire that I was so used to experiencing in Charismatic worship. It was as if the mystery of God was so prominent in the act of worship, that fear came because of the unavoidable unknowableness of God.
I’m not in any rush – I want any act I make to be true for Christ – but I imagine that I will begin to cross myself in the future; I imagine that I will begin praying the Rosary, or some version of it. Because there is something about these acts that make faith more tactile, more physical, and it seems to me that faith – like love – should based not only in the heart and mind but it the body.
Somehow, by making faith tactile, we submit the whole of our being to Christ. Tertullian in ‘On the flesh of Christ’ wrote that Christ loved his flesh. Now, this is of course not from scripture, but if Jesus loved his flesh than surely we should love our own, and hence to fill our time, our interactions, our daily stuff with spiritual meaning.
Tactile prayer, like the sign of the cross, like rosary, might be a step between simply praying with our minds and praying with our whole selves – mind, body, strength – and then towards turning our every act into one of worship: Washing dishes, cooking a meal, taking a walk, buying groceries, eating dessert. Because Christ has shown us not only how to make our mental and emotional life beautiful, but also our physical life.


