"Come as you are. The Lord welcomes us just as we are."
Almost every time that I offer a meditation or invitation before Communion, I end with these words. In part, I feel they reflect the radical grace of Jesus, which is celebrated in the Lord's Supper, even though we do not entirely grasp the full meaning of this radical grace and love. In part, I hope that we as church can slowly grow to live out the promise of such a radical grace.
I thought about this invitation again as I read a recent article about "Crying in Worship" in The Christian Century. The author, Heidi Haverkamp, is an Episcopal priest who I met when we overlapped as students at the University of Chicago Divinity School. In the essay, she admitted that she had often told others that it was okay to cry in church, but she had a different appreciation when she attended a worship service and cried.
Now, those who have been around me when I lead worship services know that I don't need encouragement. I cry in worship frequently. During funerals, weddings, baptisms, or even in regular Sunday services I often cry. Sometimes they are tears of sadness in times of grief. Sometimes they are tears of joy for big moments in other people's lives. Often, though, the tears are simply a reflection that sometimes I am overwhelmed by examples of God's love and blessings in my life and in the lives of others. Perhaps some people even think I cry too much.
Early in my ministry I would apologize for the tears, but I've learned not to apologize as much. I realize that, for whatever reason, these tears are a part of me and my experience. They aren't for show, to make me look like I'm more emotional than I am. They are just me, coming as I am.
As I've reflected on my experiences and Haverkamp's essay, I've wondered if we've created expectations of "church-appropriate emotions" in our congregations. I imagine that we have. We certainly have expectations for church-appropriate dress. While these have changed over the decades away from 3-piece suits and long dresses, we still have some unspoken expectations -- which probably impact what we ourselves wear to church. And we also have expectations for church-appropriate behavior.
Certainly, at each worship service there are people carrying burdens that make them want to cry. Is church a safe place for them to show those emotions? Do they feel like they are welcome in church with those emotions? The same questions are true for other emotions, like anger and shame.
Too often, we put on Sunday morning smiles: after all, the Bible encourages people to "Rejoice!" Some days, we are truly happy and joyful and the smiles come easily. Other times, though, they are harder to come by. We are weighed down by anxieties, coping with the aftermath of arguments we've had with our spouses, children, neighbors, or co-workers. Or maybe we're simply exhausted and unable to feel much of anything.
How welcoming are our congregations for people dealing with these emotions? Is there a place for the person who's "mad as Hell and not going to take it anymore," down the row from the proud grandma who's talking about the latest accomplishments of her grandkids? Or even for someone who cries sitting down the row during one of the songs? Do they make us uncomfortable? Do we make them uncomfortable?
To be honest, I imagine that there are more unspoken expectations at work than we realize. Some people probably don't even walk through the doors if they worry that their emotions are not church-appropriate. Or, if people do show up and display some of these emotions, we might find ourselves uncomfortable at the situation, and look for ways to avoid or escape it.
Deep down, I know that there is absolutely no emotion that is "not safe for Jesus." Jesus can handle them all, and even see beyond them, to the hard truths of our lives. I keep hoping that I personally, and the church as a whole, can grow more openly into such radical grace.
Almost every time that I offer a meditation or invitation before Communion, I end with these words. In part, I feel they reflect the radical grace of Jesus, which is celebrated in the Lord's Supper, even though we do not entirely grasp the full meaning of this radical grace and love. In part, I hope that we as church can slowly grow to live out the promise of such a radical grace.
I thought about this invitation again as I read a recent article about "Crying in Worship" in The Christian Century. The author, Heidi Haverkamp, is an Episcopal priest who I met when we overlapped as students at the University of Chicago Divinity School. In the essay, she admitted that she had often told others that it was okay to cry in church, but she had a different appreciation when she attended a worship service and cried.
Now, those who have been around me when I lead worship services know that I don't need encouragement. I cry in worship frequently. During funerals, weddings, baptisms, or even in regular Sunday services I often cry. Sometimes they are tears of sadness in times of grief. Sometimes they are tears of joy for big moments in other people's lives. Often, though, the tears are simply a reflection that sometimes I am overwhelmed by examples of God's love and blessings in my life and in the lives of others. Perhaps some people even think I cry too much.
Early in my ministry I would apologize for the tears, but I've learned not to apologize as much. I realize that, for whatever reason, these tears are a part of me and my experience. They aren't for show, to make me look like I'm more emotional than I am. They are just me, coming as I am.
As I've reflected on my experiences and Haverkamp's essay, I've wondered if we've created expectations of "church-appropriate emotions" in our congregations. I imagine that we have. We certainly have expectations for church-appropriate dress. While these have changed over the decades away from 3-piece suits and long dresses, we still have some unspoken expectations -- which probably impact what we ourselves wear to church. And we also have expectations for church-appropriate behavior.
Certainly, at each worship service there are people carrying burdens that make them want to cry. Is church a safe place for them to show those emotions? Do they feel like they are welcome in church with those emotions? The same questions are true for other emotions, like anger and shame.
Too often, we put on Sunday morning smiles: after all, the Bible encourages people to "Rejoice!" Some days, we are truly happy and joyful and the smiles come easily. Other times, though, they are harder to come by. We are weighed down by anxieties, coping with the aftermath of arguments we've had with our spouses, children, neighbors, or co-workers. Or maybe we're simply exhausted and unable to feel much of anything.
How welcoming are our congregations for people dealing with these emotions? Is there a place for the person who's "mad as Hell and not going to take it anymore," down the row from the proud grandma who's talking about the latest accomplishments of her grandkids? Or even for someone who cries sitting down the row during one of the songs? Do they make us uncomfortable? Do we make them uncomfortable?
To be honest, I imagine that there are more unspoken expectations at work than we realize. Some people probably don't even walk through the doors if they worry that their emotions are not church-appropriate. Or, if people do show up and display some of these emotions, we might find ourselves uncomfortable at the situation, and look for ways to avoid or escape it.
Deep down, I know that there is absolutely no emotion that is "not safe for Jesus." Jesus can handle them all, and even see beyond them, to the hard truths of our lives. I keep hoping that I personally, and the church as a whole, can grow more openly into such radical grace.
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