Seeking Communal Transformation

Dear Friends in Valhalla Parish—

On Sunday April 16 during the service, the St. David’s community came together to discuss our responses to the reorientation of liturgical space during Lent. The decision to reorient the space was one of the results of the discussions at liturgy guild. It came as a way of holistically focusing liturgy, music, prayers, participation, and space, to invoke the themes of Lent.

As we know from discussions over the past few weeks, and especially on Sunday, this experience was disorienting for some. 

Lent, as we know, is a time of disorientation and reorientation. Lent is a liturgical season in our church year that is meant to disrupt us and our standard patterns. This all starts on Ash Wednesday when we come face to face with the disruptive words “remember you are of the earth, and to the earth you shall return.”

It continues throughout the season, through the death and disorientation of Holy Week, and even into the Easter season. For while Christ is Risen (Alleluia!), it does take the disciples significant time to figure out how to live in light of the impossible reality of Jesus’ conquest of death itself. Their beliefs change. So too do their practices as they responsively reorient themselves to a new reality.  

And so, this year, we journeyed through Lent and Holy Week with Jesus, seeking to explore these things in a holistic way. Lent ought to shift our perspective, for indeed, this season invites us to explore the frailty and uncertainty of human life as we remember our need for repentance, mercy, and forgiveness.  

The gospel should both comfort and confound. It should disrupt our focus so that we find focus anew. The good news of Jesus Christ ought call us into transformation of heart, mind, soul, and strength, not just for our own good, but for the life of the world. In my experience, both personal and communal transformation often come from walking through unfamiliar territory together and reflecting on that experience.

And so, on Sunday, we started to explore the contours of this experience together. Accompanied by the story of Peter’s proclamation, and Thomas’ deep questioning, we spent time together exploring what we appreciated about the Lenten experience, what challenged us, and what we are learning. Sunday demonstrated a number of things, but most importantly of all, that we can have difficult conversations together, and that as we do so, we can seek to do so with respect and care. Here’s what the congregation said in response to the following questions:

What elements did you appreciate or like about this orientation?

• Karen (musician) is nearer to the congregation, and the sound is better
• You can see other people
• You can see both the altar and the stained glass
• This arrangement brought people together in an interactive way
• You could feel the circle of God’s love, and spirit of connection in the circle
• Music is better when we are singing to each other. It feels like we’re singing together
• The seating area at the back was really good for weekday prayers, as well as for kids’ activities during church

What elements did you find challenging about this orientation?

• Feeling disoriented—I had to find a new pew
• Back of the bus
• Hurtful or left behind
• Don’t like looking at people across the aisle
• The spacing of the pews seemed tight
• It was hard for mobility in the space
• Cleaning and vacuuming was hard
• Focus was different
• Didn’t have access to kneel when receiving Eucharist

What has this experience taught you about who we are now, as a community centered on Christ?

• Change is hard
• This hasn’t been peaceful
• This has provided some important learning about our communication as a congregation
• I would have preferred if you asked us about moving the furniture first, but I also know that we would have said no
• We were able to make it through this experience together
• Change is hard, but we did a good job of doing it together

Several other comments were shared by people specifically about the experience of Holy Week with our friends in Trail

• It was good to gather and worship together, and to feel the church full again
• Seeing people come to Castlegar from Trail was wonderful. It’s been a long time since they’ve come to us
• Sharing food (Thursday, Friday, Sunday) was especially meaningful for connection between our two communities
• The creativity and energy put into the week was so good, and helped me to enter into the story in a new way (especially Good Friday)
• It was wonderful to see the kids fully participating in the liturgy on Easter. What a joy!

And so, while the furniture is on its way back to a more familiar orientation (with tweaks based on our conversation on Sunday), this is not end our self-reflection.

As much as Sunday's conversation was about pews and altars, sightlines, and space, it is also about much more. On first glance, it's a conversation about liturgy and liturgical space. Because what we do in liturgy helps us practice how we might live in the world, this is also a conversation about the missino of the church. What do our individual and communal practices, as well as our ability to adapt say about our posture towards God, one another, and the world God loves?

Two the questions emerged for me from this experience and our conversation on Sunday:

• What might this liturgical experiment say about our relationship to God and the wider world?
• What might this tell us about our openness and receptivity to newcomers?

When I first was asked to come on board as part-time missioner in this parish, one of the things that was said was that the congregations of Valhalla Parish wanted to grow. And yet, the invitation and welcoming of newcomers will necessarily lead to disruption and disorientation. It always does! When any community adds new members, relationships change.

Newcomers bring up new questions and insights—about our practices, about our ministry in the world, and how we live in response to Jesus’ call to be and make disciples. Newcomers may not move the furniture (although it sometimes happens) but along with their presence will come other shifts to our common life. When we invite new people into our common life, we cannot expect that everything will stay the same.

For new folks to want to stay, they (like we!) need to be appreciated for who they are.

No matter who we are, or how long we've been here, we all need to feel seen and heard. We all need to experience a sense of agency. We need to be afforded dignity. We need to get to choose how we participate. Sometimes that will look like joining something that already exists (coffee servers, council, altar guild), and sometimes peoples' priorities will be different. Different is okay. Diversity is good. That's what makes the Body of Christ so beautiful!

In the coming days, I wonder if you’ll join me in reflection on this question too. What might our liturgical experiment throughout the season of Lent tell us about our relationship to God and the wider world (are we open, closed, somewhere in between? do we go out to greet the world, or wait for it to come to us?)? Based on what you've said about this, what might God be calling us to do in inviting, greeting, orienting, and incorporating newcomers into this parish?

• What do we do well? 
• What might we need to work on? 
• What might we need to let go of? 

Some of these things might be obvious. Others, less so. We can think about what it was like to walk into the St. David's building, to feel its unfamiliarity, not knowing where to sit, or what to do. If we felt disoriented, we can reflect on our own experience of disorientation and we can say:

"I wouldn't want that for anyone else. I wonder how we can make sure that newcomers are made to feel welcome here. What might we do together as a congregation to help someone new feel truly welcome, truly at ease, even if they're stepping for the first time into a space and a community that's new to them?"

And so we seek God in prayer, and we seek to listen deeply to the needs of our neighbours—to those we meet in the street, and those who bravely cross the threshold of the church. We seek to listen and respond to the needs of our neighbours, because this is at the core of who we are, and what we—through our baptism—are called to do.

Two and a half years ago, this parish brought me on as a missioner, to help stimulate conversation about who we are, where we’re going, and our hopes for participating in God’s emerging future. This conversation continues in multiple ways, including this one. 

And so, as we continue to journey together, may we be active in our reflection, may we continue to engage in sometimes difficult conversations, and may we be bold in our actions, seeking to walk faithfully with the risen Christ, proclaiming good news for one and all, day by day by day. 

Every Blessing,

Andrew Stephens-Rennie
Valhalla Parish Missioner