Worship - Julie Clawson

So I started reading the newest book in Thomas Cahill’s Hinges of History series – Mysteries of the Middle Ages – The Rise of Feminism, Science, and Art from the Cults of Catholic Europe. I love his books. I fully realize that he writes pop history and I’m usually itching for more extensive footnotes when I read him, but I enjoy it nonetheless. Reading Cahill is a good reminder that all history is interpretation (as is all theology, but we’ve been there on this blog already…). Half the time I’m just envious of his vocabulary and command of language.

His book are full of fun little details, sidenotes, and commentary about history. Like the origin of the term “bugger” or commenting how the lack of a sound system or buildings with decent acoustics prevented women and non-alpha males from regularly addressing large groups of people in the ancient world – it just wasn’t physically possible. Anyway, I thought I’d blog on some of the details I found most interesting.

Cahill includes the following verses from the late Medieval Christmas Carol “My Dancing Day” (read the full song here) –

Tomorrow shall be my dancing day;
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to my dance;

Chorus
Sing, oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love!

In a manger laid, and wrapped I was
So very poor, this was my chance
Betwixt an ox and a silly poor ass
To call my true love to my dance. Chorus

Then up to heaven I did ascend,
Where now I dwell in sure substance
On the right hand of God, that man
May come unto the general dance. Chorus

Of course I liked the imagery of the dance, but reading the song and its history amused me by its similarity to today’s praise songs. “My Dancing Day” was sung as part of the mystery plays – dramas that told (interpreted, elaborated, and contextualized) bible stories to the common folks. And the chorus is from a secular love song which probably because of its popularity was “baptized” and conjoined with the Christmas story. So here we have a version of the “Jesus is my boyfriend” songs from the late Middle Ages – popular because its familiar tune and down-to-earth images the common folks could understand. A song that celebrates the incarnation and its implications for our lives. So for the number of times I’ve heard complaints about praise and worship music (or done the complaining myself) it is interesting to think about what the implications for incarnation are for those songs. How do they connect people with out world or teach us how to be the incarnation of love? Do they invite us to join the dance no matter how simple their lyrics? Do songs have to be theological masterpieces to be meaningful or useful?

Just some thoughts and fun reflections sparked by history…

So I’ve been thinking about worship as a communal act. In scripture we are told that true worship involves loosing the chains of injustice, setting the oppressed free, to feed the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless (Isaiah 58). All of those things are done in community. But in our churches we are so focused on worship as singing that it has come to be an individual act. Yes singing to God is a form of worship, but perhaps we go to far when we make the worship time just about us personally connecting to God.

What got me thinking about this was what happened at church this past Sunday. There was the regular worship song selections led by the band and pretty much only by the band since the powerpoint was off the whole morning. We had a great sermon about the life Christ has called us to, but what stood out was what occurred after the regular church service ended. After most people had left, the band started jamming and ended up playing a great rendition of Sweet Home Alabama. It was obvious that the people in the band were enjoying themselves as were those of us just standing around. We were clapping and dancing and cheering them on. There was an energy in the room as we all experienced something that we all really enjoyed. We were a community at that moment – participating in a mutual experience and enjoying it for what it was.

I’ve felt that same energy a few other times before. Strangely enough it has been among groups of strangers. I felt it at the Bristol Renaissance Faire when at the close of the day the crowds gatherer into the drum circle and dance to the beat of the drums. It is a wild, tribal, pagany gathering – buts it’s alive and full of energy as we dance as one entity full of the joie de vivre. Similarly I’ve felt that same energy in a crowd of 5000 at the National Youthworkers Convention as caught up in singing with the David Crowder Band the joy overflowed into dancing.

Some may say it’s a mob mentality – a large group of people being swept up into some communal mind. It happens at concerts all the time. But I think there is something deeper there as people are moved to express the energy and joy that is welling up inside of them alongside others. It is community experiencing joy together and having no choice but to let it loose. Too often we fear what others think instead of encouraging them to give into the joy that God fills us with. To me that is worship. To share joy with others. Be that through energetic displays of passion or through helping those who need help. Something big and wondrous can happen when we join others in worship – when it moves past just us and involves all of God’s children.

Category: Worship

Medieval Praise and Worship

Communal Worship