I think I've figured out why I've become so interested in liturgy lately. My understanding of how we know things has gone from a foundationalist (modernist) position at the beginning of university--i.e., certain foundations from which one draws certain deductions--to a postmodernist position. I don't think we have the same level of absolute certainty about our knowledge as I used to think. I also have realized how our own perception and situatedness colours everything we see: our understanding can never be detached from ourselves - flies don't stand on the wall any longer. As many have said, we see the world through our own pair of shades. Now, I don't go so far as to say we can't ever know anything. I have become particularly attracted to Critical Realism (influenced by Tom Wright, Ben Meyer, John Stackhouse). As the phrase implies, one must be critical of one's own position and understanding, as well as engage in dialogue and critique. There is still a reality out there which remains regardless of how coloured our glasses are. Some interpretations of reality are better descriptions than others. But the point is, there is no monopoly of knowledge, and we aren't perfect--objective--observers.
Anyways, trying to navigate the waters of epistemology, and trying to figure out where exactly I stand (a work in progress) leaves me in turbulent waters. My way of seeing and understanding the world has radically changed in the span of a few years. Certainty has gone out the window, and a sober, critical view has taken its place. I think this provided the soil for an interest in liturgy. Liturgy connects the Christian community over time and space. The liturgy some congregations celebrate is the same their forefathers celebrated centuries ago. What one congregation in Vancouver celebrates is much the same as what another congregation in India celebrates. That gives a sense of solidarity and community unlike so many low-church protestant congregations. Moreover, liturgy is stable. It's not a new style of service every week, every month, every year. It follows a relatively set lectionary (one, two, or three year cycle, whatever), and a set format of service.
Of course, there is a flip side to this: liturgy can be too rigid. I haven't really experienced much in terms of liturgy yet, so I can't comment. What I'm thinking so far is that this can be a real hazard. But, I'm not so sure rigidity is a bad thing. The liturgies I have seen so far give plenty of time for reflection/prayer. What it does safeguard against is the overenthusiastic (in a bad way) worship leader who just does as he/she pleases; or the unprepared/unsure service chairperson who doesn't understand what the various stages in the service are about, or what the role of scripture is in guiding the congregation through them.
Hopefully, through the summer, I can experience some liturgical services. Maybe my wonderful theorycraft is just that.
I'd like to be able to share a better description of critical realism in the future, one that actually does justice to it. It seems to me to be one of the better postmodern options out there.
I've also been listening along to the Regent Radio broadcast of Richard Burridge's lecture series on New Testament Ethics. I love it so far. He is big on biographical approaches to the Gospels. His dissertation is all about how the Gospels are a form of Graeco-Roman biography. And Graeco-Roman biography (this may be a shock) is about the subject in question! As Burridge likes to joke, the Gospels are about Jesus. Go figure. Furthermore, Biography (noun) can be historical, comedic, tragic, etc... (adjectives) . Which adjective you tack on to the noun is question in itself. Anyways, Graeco-Roman biographies aimed to show what kind of person the subject in question was. In several biographies, the point was for people to imitate the subject's virtues, and avoid their vices.
This is the approach that Burridge brings to the Gospels, and it is one that has captured my attention. So far, he has talked about the ethics of Jesus. Jesus in his words has incredibly stringent ethics. He intensifies Torah, he doesn't make things easier. However, at the very same time, Jesus extends his open invitation to sinners. The strict moral teacher invites the worst of the worst--those who fail his moral standards--into his community. Jesus heals the outsiders and sinners, he eats with them, he offers them forgiveness on the spot (which, by the way, completely circumvents the Temple), he parties with them - he dies for them. There is no prerequisite to meet the standards first; the invitation comes first. I'm really looking forward to hearing more of this lecture series.
Anyways, that's plenty of writing for one post.
Peace be with you all,
Kev
Sunday, April 10, 2005
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