Messy Church
This week, staff and volunteers have been working hard to get ready for our first 9:00 a.m. service, which is this Sunday. Although, as a Rite II service of Holy Eucharist straight from the prayer book, much of the service is familiar to us, many components are brand new, which means that all of us are having to scramble a little bit to figure out how to pull it off.
What songs or hymns can we choose that will reflect our Anglican heritage while also provide a fresh expression of worship? Who will serve as acolyte, usher, lector, and chalice bearer? Should the Prayers of the People mirror those of the 8:45 and 11:00 services, or should they sound more like what we say on Wednesday nights? How many people will show up? What should the bulletins look like, and how many should we print?
Last night, Norma Johnson, the chair of our altar guild, asked me how I wanted this Saturday’s team to set up for the new service. We talked through some options and pretty much settled on setting up the way we do for the Wednesday-evening Eucharist. But, even as we finalized those details, I could feel some uncertainty welling up within me. “Or we could do it a different way,” I said unhelpfully, creating more chaos for Norma and her team.
Like all the members of our altar guild, Norma is patient and faithful, and she was kind enough to give me some space to talk through it yet again. Finally, after waffling for a little bit longer, I confessed to her that I think this service is supposed to be a little messy. It will be okay if some of the details are not planned out perfectly because, in the end, the spirit of this service invites us to trust that, whoever we are and wherever we are on our spiritual journey, we are welcome in this place and at God’s table.
Even though liturgical messiness does not come naturally for me, I think the 9:00 a.m. service is supposed to be a little rough around the edges. Part of its appeal, I believe, is its imperfection. Its less-than-polished nature conveys to those who show up that anyone and everyone is welcome—not only to worship but also to contribute to the leadership of the service.
In 2004, a parish church in southern England began the “Messy Church” movement, which has since spread across the globe. That movement focuses on liturgies that are designed as opportunities for people of all ages—particularly families with young children—to come and take part in worship alongside everyone else. Our new service is not in any way affiliated with or inspired by the “Messy Church” movement. It is not specifically designed for children or families, though I suspect that people of all ages will enjoy this service. But reflecting upon my conversation with Norma has helped me identify the ways in which the messiness of our service may also help people of all backgrounds, experiences, ages, and interests to find a home at St. Paul’s.
We are a church where all people are welcome, and that is true at any of our services. Every week, there are several people in the pews who are not Christians—people of other faiths or of none who come to church with their spouses or who show up by themselves because they like what St. Paul’s means to this community. We often hear infants, toddlers, and other young children announcing their presence in worship. Some people come to church in traditional Sunday dress, while others show up in shorts and t-shirts. Some of the people who worship with us are either currently unhoused or have experienced homelessness at some point during their lives.
In lots of ways, we are a diverse church, yet, despite our willingness to make space for anyone, not everyone feels welcome at St. Paul’s. Even though I try my best to assure the parents of restless children that we love having them and their squiggly companions in church, there are some families that do not feel like their children belong in a church as formal as ours. Although our style of worship is beloved by those who show up week after week, the combination of complicated hymns, complicated prayers, and complicated sermons sometimes gets in the way of those of us who occasionally want a more straightforward experience of worship. While many of us are able to give an hour and a half to Sunday-morning worship, not everyone enjoys such a big weekly commitment, yet the appeal of church on Sunday mornings remains.
Most of all, I believe our 7:30 a.m., 8:45 a.m., and 11:00 a.m. services are beautifully, carefully, and intentionally planned and executed services of worship. Rarely is something or someone out of place. That well-choreographed liturgical style invites us to step seamlessly into a tradition that carries the congregation through a familiar service, allowing us to blend in with those around us as we all approach the throne of God together. But that can be difficult for people who do not feel like they fit in seamlessly with the other people in the pews.
We believe that, in Christ, all our physical, economic, theological, political, familial, and ethnic particularities all fall away, but getting to that point—learning how to believe that what Saint Paul wrote about there being neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female is true for us—is hard when we feel like we stick out in church. Those of us who have been a regular part of St. Paul’s for years know that that is true for everyone who walks through the door, but newcomers may not feel that as clearly. I think the 9:00 a.m. service is an opportunity for anyone to experience the radical welcome of Jesus and the radical welcome of our church.
Our new service is only a few days away, and I still do not know who will carry the cross at the start of the service or who will pass the offering baskets through the congregation. That sort of uncertainty usually makes me nervous, but, in this case, that nervousness has given way to excitement. I want all of us to hold onto the messiness of starting a new service. I want us to preserve enough space for people who do not feel comfortable volunteering to serve in our other services to raise their hand and offer themselves to serve in this one. There are still so many details to sort out, and that is the point. We will sort them out together—a wonderful, beautiful, messy group of God’s children who will always have a place in the heart of God and who just might find that place at St. Paul’s.
Yours faithfully,
Evan D. Garner
