Gody Play for Adults (Midweek Message)

 

Godly Play for Adults

Fr. Tony’s Mid-week Message

June 14, 2017

“Rejoice in the Lord, all you lands,

Serve the Lord with gladness,

And come before His presence with a Song.” 

(The Jubilate, Psalm 100)

When I first came to Trinity six years ago, in some of our early discussions about liturgy and ceremony in worship, I made an off-hand comment to a parishioner that I “loved to play church.”  I was trying to express the joy and creativity I felt in worship and in its various forms, traditional or otherwise.  But the choice of words caused offense.  The reply was, “We are talking about worship here, not make-believe, play-acting, or something frivolous!” 

But liturgy, properly conducted and understood, does in fact share many things with children’s play:  to really work, it generally serves no purpose other than itself; it expresses joy and creativity, frees the imagination, and often is achieved by following (and sometimes breaking) strict rules agreed upon by those playing. The rules of worship are not simply something agreed upon on the spot by the congregation present; they are a mixture of traditional usages, actions and words that embody our faith and the faith of those who went on before (and will come after), as well as symbols and stories that bring forth and come from this faith.   The Holy Spirit and the Church writ large make these rules available to us.  The questions of accessibility of some worship vs. the awe-inspiring otherness of different forms, or of participative worship vs. sideline contemplative viewing or auditing, of tradition vs. innovation, of high vs. low—these are mere sideshows in the is the play that is worship. 

A child at play does not aim at anything, or have an ulterior purpose.   Play allows the child to exercise youthful power, test its limits, and express life in what might seem to be a random string of words, actions, and movement.  But it helps the child grow into the person it is intended to be, to realize its true self.   Authentic play means natural expression, even (especially?) when constrained by rules.  As a result, it is harmonious, has clearly recognizable patterns and shapes, and, if left to itself without efforts at regularizing, explaining, or moralizing the life out of it, thus achieves beauty. 

Liturgical worship operates on a deeper level than child’s play.  It allows us to stand as children at the feet of our loving Parent God.  With the help of the Spirit and grace, it empowers us to express our real selves, experience joy, and grow into the creatures God intended when God created us.   In it God uses metaphor and art to touch these deeper parts of our selves. Like art and music, it is measured, rhythmic, and melodious.  It uses counterpoint and harmony to plumb our emotions and reasoning.   In it, formal repeated gestures are clothed in colors, garments, smells, and sounds foreign to everyday life, in places and at appointed times and seasons that encompass our lives.  And it changes us for the better. 

Rationality used as a solvent acid can destroy the magic of this artful experience of God.   Playing the role of the critic, the evaluator, kills our play and the spiritual child we are before God. 

We are often tempted to kill this precious play by noxious habits of the heart and mind.   A kind of residual Calvinism of the emotions tells those of us coming from a reformed tradition—even those who have rejected doctrinal Calvinism!—that worship must be grim, stark, and joyless, or at its very least useful, directed, and explicitly explainable “edification.”  Stale canonical legalism or formal conventionalism can affect those from a Roman or Orthodox background, either by asking us to conform without joy or creativity, or by demanding that we reject traditional practices out of hand because of their association in our hearts with the power of a Patriarchal and tyrannically hierarchical Church.   The tempter in either case tells us that liturgy must eschew magic, superstition, or nonsense when in fact what we are rejecting is any sense of wonder, creativity, joy, or play.  

A story in 2 Samuel 6 is about the break up of King David’s marriage over what might be called a costume failure or an argument about appropriate liturgy.  It tells of the risks to the soul and to human relations of objectifying and judging worship.  King David is bringing the Ark of God to Jerusalem.  In the joyful procession, he sings, dances, and is lost in ecstasy.  His wife watches from a window and is thoroughly unimpressed by David’s abandon: 

“David returned to bless his household. But Michal the daughter of Saul came out to meet David, and said, ‘How the king of Israel honored himself today, uncovering himself today before the eyes of his servants’ maids, as any vulgar fellow might shamelessly uncover himself!’   David said to Michal, “It was before the Lord… that I have danced…   I will make myself yet more contemptible than this, and I will be abased in my own eyes; but by the maids of whom you have spoken, by them I shall be held in honor.’ And Michal the daughter of Saul had no child to the day of her death.” (2 Sam 6: 20-23)

We tread a very dangerous spiritual path when we presume to judge and belittle the worship of others.  Worship is play, and should be accepted in the spirit of joy and creativity in which it is offered.   To do otherwise alienates us not just from the healing empowerment that such Godly Play gives.  It alienates us from those whose play we criticize, or binds us together in unhealthy and community killing cliques with other judgers. Once I had a pastor who loved what he called "contemporary praise worship."  This is not my cup of tea, but I found that keeping an open mind and participating I expanded my experience of God.  The key was not condemning or belittling.  While we must always try to make our worship more authentic, in making suggestions and expressing hopes for improvement, we must focus on positive suggestions, and avoid negative criticism.

Grace and Peace.  

--Fr. Tony+