joan chittister – Deana O'Hara – Speaker, Comedian, Writer

As some of you know, I spent 2010 in a praise and worship fast and studied liturgical worship, not because of some legal requirement, but because this was honestly the path I believed God was leading me down. Jeremiah 6:16 – Thus says the LORD:”Stand by the roads, and look,and ask for the ancient paths,where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. “

While I may be married to a Missouri Synod Lutheran – which are historically liturgical almost to the point of legalism (depending of course on who you are speaking with) – I love praise and worship and interestingly enough so does my husband. Also interesting is neither of us really like blended services. – I may or may not write more about that later, just know that my soul craves both the fullness of praise and the richness of liturgy at different times and combining the two is like – well, I don’t have a good analogy other that to say it’s like trying to fish while I water ski, if that makes sense.

And rather than go down a rabbit hole today, let me just leave it as – I needed a break. After four years of helping with our church plant – which is primarily praise and worship, teaching bible studies, pursing new career paths (comedy), and sending my oldest away to college, I entered 2010 worn out and dry as the desert. Jeff’s mom had a fatal stroke . I had a mass in my uterus that knocked me down for six months, and I started abusing diet pills trying to lose weight. 2010 was a low bottom year for me.

And yet – even in the midst of all of that I found rest. I’d been reading Joan Chittister’s book on Liturgical living and while I found her book to be dry and cumbersome to read, I did feel a certain draw in my spirit to learn more and so with the help of a local mentor/pastor – I spent 2010 studying the church year, and liturgy. I regret neither the fast, the lows, or the choices of the year – 2010 was as gloriously rich with love and grace as God had promised.

My season of fasting is over and a new season has been placed on my heart – “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.” – Luke 6:21 ESV Bible

Some changes for 2011, praise and worship is back in my fold of worship opportunities as is high liturgy. I’m not sure if I’ll teach or not as I am still needing much time in the master’s hand. (I have food issues that we are working through) Last but not least, I am back memorizing verses this year, just like I did in 2009. If you would like to join me on that, please see Beth Moore’s Living Proof live page and jump in. You won’t regret it.

Have a great week you guys.

Today is Epiphany, also known as Kings Day, or the 12th day of Christmas. If you would like to know more about Epiphany, please check out the very cool link a friend of mine posted on Facebook: http://www.crivoice.org/cyepiph.html

In light of what I consider to be the worst book review ever, I made a decision to really study liturgy this year. I loved the book, but cannot verbalize why. I felt so lost after reading it that I almost sent it back to Thomas Nelson with a letter of apology stating excellent book, but I’m not smart enough to review it, I’m sorry. But I didn’t. The book changed something. The book awakened a desire within my spirit to want to know more. And for that reason alone, I gave the book five stars. And I stand by that review.

If I could capture my emotions on a canvas this book would be filled with deep greens, blues, and violet. It wouldn’t pop like modern art, rather I would have it flow with depth and substance. It would have texture, high places and low places where you can put your hands and feel the landscape. It would be much like Raphael or Botticelli paintings where the entire story could not be conveyed at first glance. There would be hidden subtleties that only come out with contemplative attention to it’s detail.

Modern art has it’s own beauty, don’t get me wrong. The painting I’m trying to give voice to is simply a different kind of beauty.

I am lost in this sea of the political debates over “right worship”, Liturgy vs. Contemporary, and a concept of a liturgical life that resonates within my spirit. I haven’t found my landing point. It’s as if I think it has to be one side or the other. You are either pro liturgy or you are pro contemporary services and one cannot stand on both sides of the fence. And to make it more interesting, the debate goes deeper than that. Within liturgical circles you have the debate over ancient liturgy vs. modern. There is no reprieve from the arguments.

I don’t get the personal peace that Sister Chittister is talking about from a church life that is 100% contemporary. There are too many distractions and I feel disjointed if I stay in that world for too long. That life is lacking or missing key components of a contemplative life. The sacraments of communion feel empty and void of substance and more of a representation than real presence without that contemplation and repentant stillness before God that a liturgical life or service provides. At least for me.

And yet, it’s occurred to me today, that maybe I’m still not getting it. The object of my studies is still a thing and not a person. I’m missing the connection as much today as I was when I read Joan’s book. My liturgical notebook is cleanly organized by church season, color, and festivals. Full of facts waiting for meaning. It’s too neat, too sterile. It’s missing something. The notebook and the journey isn’t finished yet.

Am I looking for a peace that passes all understanding from the things of liturgy rather than the person of Christ?

Have I traveled back to the young woman who railed against our new sanctuary that had only an empty cross and no pictures of my king? Or am I again the young woman who upon entering a Lutheran church for the first time, whispers (too loudly) to her then boy friend “Why is the cross naked?” making my there-for-moral-support girlfriend fall off her pew?

I don’t know. But I do know that this is the season of Lent. A season to lay down the things that get in the way and keep him from drawing us closer. Much like earthly marriage, I have a lot to learn about my heavenly groom. Maybe the trick for me is to stop trying to think quite so much — and simply be in the journey.