{"title":"Hope Emerges?: An Exploration of Energy and Power in the Context of Worship","authors":"Allie Utley","doi":"10.1080/0458063X.2022.2054654","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"Easter Sunday: The pews are filled end to end. The sanctuary is adorned in gold linens and Easter lilies. Music is loud: full choir, brass, timpani, and organ. Volume and acoustics mean the hymns are a bit slower than usual. Sound fills the space. The procession goes on longer than a typical Sunday. Extra musicians, lay eucharistic ministers, acolytes, and priests (all to accommodate the crowd) create a line of people that far surpasses a Sunday in Ordinary Time. When the procession starts, most people look to their bulletins, but as the song continues, they seem to have lost interest in trying to sing along. They look around the sanctuary, wave to people they recognize. The priest speaks the opening words, “Alleluia, Christ is Risen.” The enthusiasm and volume of the delivery matches the energy of the preceding hymn. The congregation’s response does not match the intensity. It is scattered and lacks the confidence of the musicians and priests. Pauses between pieces of the liturgy are longer than usual. It takes time for so many people to settle. People come and go from the service. Few people sing when the time comes to give a response or participate in a hymn. As the priest begins his sermon, stillness and quiet finally settle into the sanctuary. The sermon declares, boldly, that Jesus is risen and “this changes everything.” It isn’t clear how things change, what changes, or how the change impacts our lives. (I wonder what it is about the sermon delivery or content that impacts the congregation and why and how they seem to be listening so intently.) After the sermon, the congregation mumbles through an affirmation of faith. Again, I feel a disconnect between the energy of the congregation and the clergy; the congregation does not respond with the degree of enthusiasm or confidence that the leaders present. Prayers come next and also have spoken responses. The one-line responses to the prayers are more coordinated and more audible. People are invited to speak prayers out loud. No one ever does. I think it’s against the “rules.” On a typical Sunday, passing the peace takes some time and folks move about the sanctuary, walking down pew lengths to greet the next person, some even filling the aisle. But on Easter, people simply turn in circles and politely great those around them. This is followed by a multitude of announcements. As always, the liturgy culminates in the Eucharistic rite. People fidget and chat during communion. Usually, people kneel after they receive, but on this day, many sit and wait for the next thing.","PeriodicalId":53923,"journal":{"name":"Liturgy","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1000,"publicationDate":"2022-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Liturgy","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1080/0458063X.2022.2054654","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"0","JCRName":"RELIGION","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
Easter Sunday: The pews are filled end to end. The sanctuary is adorned in gold linens and Easter lilies. Music is loud: full choir, brass, timpani, and organ. Volume and acoustics mean the hymns are a bit slower than usual. Sound fills the space. The procession goes on longer than a typical Sunday. Extra musicians, lay eucharistic ministers, acolytes, and priests (all to accommodate the crowd) create a line of people that far surpasses a Sunday in Ordinary Time. When the procession starts, most people look to their bulletins, but as the song continues, they seem to have lost interest in trying to sing along. They look around the sanctuary, wave to people they recognize. The priest speaks the opening words, “Alleluia, Christ is Risen.” The enthusiasm and volume of the delivery matches the energy of the preceding hymn. The congregation’s response does not match the intensity. It is scattered and lacks the confidence of the musicians and priests. Pauses between pieces of the liturgy are longer than usual. It takes time for so many people to settle. People come and go from the service. Few people sing when the time comes to give a response or participate in a hymn. As the priest begins his sermon, stillness and quiet finally settle into the sanctuary. The sermon declares, boldly, that Jesus is risen and “this changes everything.” It isn’t clear how things change, what changes, or how the change impacts our lives. (I wonder what it is about the sermon delivery or content that impacts the congregation and why and how they seem to be listening so intently.) After the sermon, the congregation mumbles through an affirmation of faith. Again, I feel a disconnect between the energy of the congregation and the clergy; the congregation does not respond with the degree of enthusiasm or confidence that the leaders present. Prayers come next and also have spoken responses. The one-line responses to the prayers are more coordinated and more audible. People are invited to speak prayers out loud. No one ever does. I think it’s against the “rules.” On a typical Sunday, passing the peace takes some time and folks move about the sanctuary, walking down pew lengths to greet the next person, some even filling the aisle. But on Easter, people simply turn in circles and politely great those around them. This is followed by a multitude of announcements. As always, the liturgy culminates in the Eucharistic rite. People fidget and chat during communion. Usually, people kneel after they receive, but on this day, many sit and wait for the next thing.