History

I wrote this almost a year ago, got busy (and forgetful) and just realized I never published it!

Now as I plan to re-boot this page, upon assuming new worship planning duties  . . .  

Some time ago, a young couple, students in the Wheaton Grad School Church History program, sang in the College Church Choir. They came to Wheaton from a Christian college in another state, from a particular tradition. When I asked them about their interests in church history, they told me that the one church history course taught at their college began with 1940. Think of that. (And if you are a history of American church history you can pretty much guess the denominational background of said college.)

I am enjoying the history component of the worship course I am currently teaching. There is so much to know, and so much to learn from our ancestors in faith. It is the temptation of every generation to think of ourselves as the apex of development. It is a particularly modern temptation to discard the practices (and wisdom, perhaps) of the past--even the recent past. [See C. S. Lewis, "On Reading Old Books" for a bracing reflection on this.]

As protestant evangelicals, we often leap from the New Testament to Martin Luther (or 1940 USA). We may have read the Church Fathers and jumped from the 4th century to the Reformation (or the Fundamentalist-Modernist controversy of the early 20th century). But it seems to me that we err if we do not take our time with the Middle Ages, the Eastern and Roman churches, and note the many reform initiatives, as well as the details about which we continue to be suspicious or dismissive. To see how the church handled change and reform--and how she also failed to change and reform--in many times and places, helps us see how at risk our own assumptions may be.

Worship practices that recognize the big historic picture of the public expression of our faith might just avoid some of the blinders and idols of our day. May those of us who plan, lead, and teach worship be committed to semper reformanda, "always reforming," with an eye to the wisdom and lessons of our past.