“That Liturgical Stuff”: How Worship Shapes Orthodoxy
Photo by James Coleman on Unsplash
Identity and identity formation are hot-button issues in our present cultural climate. Western culture is increasingly assuming a postmodern worldview that places the locus of authority on the individual. Identity politics rock the nation as left and right fight with one another over whose platform reigns supreme. Companies use well-researched psychological marketing strategies to convince us to buy a product while shaping how we understand ourselves and the world around us. Everything and everyone is vying for our attention, money, and allegiance. Social media, AI, and the 24/7 news cycle bombard us with images, sounds, symbols, and words that are undergirded by distinct philosophical worldviews. These worldviews have the power to shape our minds, beliefs, ethics, and practices. In other words, they shape us individually and, on a larger scale, they shape collective culture.
Essentially, everyone is formed by something.
In my tribe of Methodism there has been a movement to reclaim Christian catechesis and orthodox teaching within the life of the church. In 2022, Ligonier Ministries and Lifeway Research published a State of Theology Survey that shocked many church leaders with a grim picture of the state of orthodox belief among Christians in America. For example, it reports that 65% of American evangelicals believe that humans are born without sin, 61% strongly or somewhat agree that Jesus was the first being created by God, 56% strongly or somewhat agree that worshiping alone or with family is a valid replacement for attending public worship, and 55% strongly or somewhat agree that the Holy Spirit is an impersonal force. These percentages increase in each category among the general American population. It's no wonder that these statistics alarm church leaders that have a vision to champion the dissemination of orthodoxy and right Christian teaching. Doctrine matters, after all, because it is the very framework of our confession of faith. It points the way to salvation in Christ.
The word orthodoxy comes from the Greek words orthos, meaning straight or correct, and doxa, which has a nuanced meaning. Doxa in the New Testament can be translated as belief or opinion. However, it can also be translated as glory, brilliance, or splendor. Orthodoxy is our right belief as Christians, but it is interconnected with splendor, praise, and awe. Right belief and right worship are inseparable. Orthodoxy is not solely an intellectual ascent to a common set of beliefs, but a centering of our lives and practices around the worship and order of the Christian God. Christian orthodoxy influences orthopraxy, or “right practice,” for the formation of disciples.
Emile Durkheim, the father of modern sociology, in his work Elementary Forms of Religious Life, examines the relationship between ritual practice and culture. He essentially comes to the conclusion that ritual (worship) creates society. For example, nations have anthems that include ritual actions like standing or placing the hand over the heart. There are calendars, holidays, and monuments that help citizens to remember and reenact noteworthy events or social movements. Sports fans proudly don their team colors and chant in unison to cultivate group inclusion (O-H-_-_!). Cultural stories are embodied and kept alive by group rituals (practices). These rituals become second nature as they form individual identity into group identity. This is also true for Christian worship.
This is not to assert that Christian worship is a secular or sociological phenomenon void of spiritual power. However, the rituals in which we regularly participate are a necessary, primary vehicle to disseminate orthodoxy and form Christian group identification. When the Church gathers for worship on a weekly basis, she is formed and shaped into the likeness of Christ. The symbols we use (the cross, bread and wine, water, icons, and art), the songs we sing, and the words we proclaim in unison (creeds, scriptures), the physical gestures we make (sign of the cross, raising our hands, folding our hands, kneeling, eating, and drinking), and the calendar that we order our lives around are means of Christian formation and catechesis.
I frequently hear from church leaders at all denominational levels, "I don't really care about that liturgical stuff," when it comes to the content of worship services. Many times pastors and church leaders rely on forms of service that have been inherited from popular Christian culture or movements. The term “worship” is used to describe the music portion of the liturgy and the title “worship leader” is given to individuals who solely play music or lead in song. Decisions about what is important for the worshiping life of the church are made by what's relevant or trending. Scripture lessons are shortened and sometimes cut out completely from the service because they are considered by some to be boring. Worship feels more like a perfectly choreographed form of entertainment than a faithful witness to the resurrected Christ.
Yet a primary role of the pastor is to oversee the worship life of the church. So often, pastors relegate the responsibility to others. This does not mean that others should not be part of the worship planning process. After all, worship is the work of the people. However, it does mean that the pastor has primary oversight in what takes place during worship. In some Wesleyan traditions, this charge is part of an elder's ordination vow.
When we shift our mindset and think of worship as a time for catechesis and the formation of Christian identity, we see the immense value of the content within worship. The entire liturgy is a means by which we lead people in a communal encounter with the Triune God. It's not merely an experience of disjointed music and a TED talk. The practices that we engage in together are just as important as the sermon. Enlivened by the charismatic power of the Holy Spirit, the liturgy, as a means of grace, can form us into disciples of Christ.
A few years ago I saw a tweet thread by Beth Moore, a high-profile author and speaker who had recently left the Southern Baptist Convention to attend an Anglican Church in North America congregation, testifying to her experience with liturgy. She wrote:
The Lord led Keith and me to visit a liturgical church in early June…. One that highly exalts Jesus and sees the Scriptures as the Church's final authority in all matters of faith and practice. I was so out of my normal world, I had no idea when to stand or sit or speak or shut up. I said that creed and those prayers and hung onto every word of three solid chapters of scripture… All this time I believed that only my denomination really loved the scriptures… When it came time for communion Keith and I shot to that altar like starving people begging for bread. I've never needed it so badly in my life… Their liturgy has put words in my mouth that have filled me with so much hope again. Their focus on the cross, and on the sacraments and not just primarily upon what is coming from the pulpit has been like a written prescription for me in this season… I'm learning to say the Nicene Creed. I'm learning how to drop down on the kneeling bench. For this moment in time, we're right where God wants us.
As Moore’s experience attests, the acts that we participate in during worship are not meaningless dead rituals. They are the very means by which we can see God in right glory and splendor. They bring order out of the chaotic, sin-filled world in which we live, and provide a pathway into the life of God. In Moore’s case, the rituals of the church brought her to encounter the God of hope and healing in a time of grief. The prayers we pray teach our congregations how to pray. The language we use and the creeds we recite in unison give the congregation the language of the faith. Practices around the reading of the Word teach the congregation how to receive the Word. The prayer of confession allows the opportunity for forgiveness and pardon of sin, and anointing prayer opens up a channel for the healing power of the Holy Spirit. The communion liturgy allows participation in the grand narrative of salvation. The bread and wine that we partake in each week nourishes us by the living presence of the crucified and risen Christ for ministry in the world.
When I was in elementary school I attended a local Roman Catholic parish school. We participated in mass weekly and were taught the parts of the mass. I was one of the few Protestants that attended the school, but I vividly remember the profound impact it had on my understanding of the Christian faith. Before coming to the table of the Lord for eucharist, the congregation sang in one voice: Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Over twenty five years later, the words and tune of the memorial acclamation still ring in my spirit. It is the very essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ imprinted in me through the ritual practice of the Church. It gives me the language of the faith in a world that is battling for my identity, a world that wants to tell me who I am supposed to be apart from the sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit poured upon me at my baptism.
The world is doing everything in its power to give us an identity, and so many are eager to find one. However, the orthodox Christian faith that has been passed down to us as a gift over the past 2,000 years teaches us who God is, and in turn, who we are, and who we are meant to be. In an age of worship practices rooted in pragmatism, void of the rich symbolism and Spirit-filled ritual of the Christian faith, church leaders must take seriously the opportunity to re-examine worship practices in light of catechesis and Christian formation.
In other words, maybe we should start to care about that liturgical stuff.
Tesia Mallory is Dean of the Chapel at United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio.