Learning the Traditions

As a ministry developer, I rely greatly on the energy and needs of the congregations that I serve to determine where I need to devote my energy, what can be a collaborative effort, and what can be delegated to others. As a part-time vicar for two churches—and ¼ time at each—I must do that. For reasons of good self-care and modeling the key principles of the ministry of all baptized—not to mention—pure practicability—it is a necessity.

This being my first Christmas season as their vicars, versus a developer traveling from church to church,  I must be cognizant of the potential burnout for folks as the parishes try to do all that they have always done, particularly during this season of preparation and anticipation. As Advent progresses and we approach Christmas, I am becoming increasingly aware of the myriad of traditions that my two churches have for the Advent and Christmas seasons. I am also discovering that many of these traditions are quite time-intensive to continue.

These traditions are ingrained in the memories and hearts of the people and not up for negotiation. When people walk through the church doors on December 24^th, they better see the same twinkling and inspirationally magical view that they have seen each year this night for many decades.

I agree. It is an inspirational moment for us all, as we finally feel like it is Christmas. And we can even say “Merry Christmas” without the angst of doing so out of season or even being culturally insensitive. It is truly special.

But as I see the spinning wheels and hear the ever-increasing list of decorations and “musts” for each of the churches—each of which has totally different lists—I wonder about whether we are missing the point of the season. The ever-faithful few who do all of the work make sure that Christmas happens exactly as it has for the past 50 years. The same dozens or so of family members who appear for their annual church visit are mesmerized by the beauty and emotion. They ooh and ah, and they leave the area again a few days later, never seeing how beautiful the church and the people are when we are doing church and not a special holiday “performance.”

All of this has me wondering: Do we decorate and do all of these traditional things for ourselves, so we can finally immerse ourselves in the beauty after the frantic race to get it all done? Are we doing this as a gift to those family members and friends who appear for church once or twice a year for Christmas and possibly Easter? More importantly, do we do this to honor, celebrate and remember the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ? Or are we too exhausted and busy to notice or care anymore?

Those are the questions that keep me awake at night and distracted by day. I cannot answer them, as I have my own memories of traditions and customs from the dozens of churches of which I have been a member through the years. These are not my traditions. I am an outsider; even if I love these traditions, they will never be mine, for I lack the lineage to own them. Only my loyal flock can answer these important questions--that much I know. But I wonder whether they ever stop to ask these questions as well, and how they might answer them. The reality is: I will never know.

I suspect that these traditions are important as a means of hospitality to others, as well as an act in reverence to God and Christ. If I were to move away and return again in 20 years, I expect that I would enjoy the same beauty and views that I will see December 24 of this year. And perhaps that is okay. I guess that is all part of the preparation and anticipation. It also is all about our love for our holiday visitors and, more importantly, for God.

Theresa

Christmas Music and Traditions

It is now 2012, and even the local convenience store has already started stocking and promoting its Easter candy. I wonder what happened to Valentine’s Day? More importantly, we just entered the season of Epiphany. So, it seems natural for me to reflect on my meanderings, both mental and physical, over the Advent and Christmas seasons.

Being well aware of my own musical and other expectations for the Advent and Christmas services, I had the unique pleasure to coordinate the field education experiences of the aspirants (i.e., the priests and deacons in training) in our mutual ministry formation program. By and large, the aspirants came to their field experiences with limited exposure to the holiday traditions of churches other than their own. This differs from my own experience as a frequent mover and even a denominational changer, as I am also married to a Roman Catholic. Or at least I thought that I was more “enlightened!”

Over the past six weeks, I kept hearing the words “unique” and “unusual” as the aspirants would share their experiences with me. These words seemed odd to me as they shared more about what they found unique or unusual. And as I reviewed the bulletins for the two parishes for which I will be vicar in 2012, I learned that the roots of traditions and expectations run deep.

You don’t mess with the specifics of the Christmas Eve service. Churches sing the exact same songs each year, and the children participate in the services as their parents and grandparents did before, with every expectation that the children will assume the same (or possibly more “important”) roles each year. I totally understand. Although I was far from the tall blonde-haired beauty selected to be Mary, I welcomed my graduation from angel to shepherd and finally (yes!) to magi. I had arrived! These comments brought me back to the realities of these seasonal services and their accompanying traditions and expectations.

Having had the rare opportunity to attend a midnight Christmas Eve service myself, I found myself anxiously waiting to sing “In the bleak midwinter”—a song that my small choir-less churches would struggle to sing. And I chuckled at discovering my joy in kneeling near the end of the service, clutching candles as we sang “Silent Night”—a song that I expect to sing in the dim light of candles, kneeling at the close of the Christmas Eve Eucharist. But I also discovered my disappointment in not singing the song most appropriate only for Christmas Day and Christmas Eve services—“Go tell it on the mountain.”

Perhaps I have expectations myself, despite my meanderings through multiple dioceses, churches and now the region. I learned a lesson—honor these traditions and expectations, for they really matter!

Theresa