Theology, Watches, Competing Liturgies, and why James K.A. Smith is a baller and a scholar.

Remember this post? In it I wanted to discuss the undeniable fact that apple stores look like and effectively function as religious shrines for the faithful consumer. Well 3 years and 3 iPhone models later, I guess its time to blog it up.

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Theology of Space. Every place tells a story.

How do our public spaces tell stories about humans and what we desire? How do our churches tell us what is important in life, and where to direct our attention and focus during a worship service?

These and other questions make us realize that no space is a neutral space, and that every space both explicitly religious (a church) or not (an apple store) are pointing our hearts towards things to love (and in the same breath, worship).

Don’t believe me? Take a look at these pictures from the latest apple press conference (aka the iFeast day) and see for yourself…

And you thought it was a cult before… these iconic, monumental, yet strangely familiar spaces (there’s one on Boylston St. and one in the Natick mall) invite in the faithful apple junkie to gaze upon the newest objects of worship, bathed in light and set apart from the darkness or chaos from which you enter. In the center, the emblem and icon of the fruit – no Eden reference intended but I’ll bite 🙂 – reminds us who is behind all of this, and who will receive our offering when we purchase the things for $649 for the 16GB-model–without–a-2-year-contract-thank-you-very-much-t-mobile…

Competing Liturgies. Who (or what) do we love?

But the connection to religious doesn’t stop with their stores temples.

I’ve been reading James K.A. Smith’s fascinating analysis of competing liturgies in his book “Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation,” which makes 3 basic claims:

1. Human beings are oriented and defined by desire (what we love).
2. Human beings are influenced and shaped by practice (by what we do)
3. Some practices or rituals communicate a specific vision of “the good life” (Smith categorizes these as “liturgies”), and compete for first place in our lives.

In short, the church is not the only liturgy in our life, and it is not even the loudest or most effective.

Smith then exegetes competing liturgies in our 21st century western culture. Consider his first analysis.

The layout of this temple has architectural echoes that hark back to medieval cathedrals – mammoth religious spaces that can absorb all kinds of  different religious activities all at one time. And so one might say that this religious building has a winding labyrthinth for contemplation, alongside of which are innumerable chapels devoted to various saints. As we wander the labyrinth in contemplation, preparing to enter one of the chapels, we’ll be struck by the rich iconography that lines the walls and interior spaces. Unlike the flattened depictions of saints one might find in stained-glass windows, here is an array of three-dimensional icons adorned in garb that – as with all iconography – inspires us to be imitators of these exemplars. These statues and icons embody for us concrete images of “the good life”. (Smith, 21)

If you haven’t guessed it by now, Smith is describing, albeit from a unique tongue-in-cheek perspective, any suburban mall. His evocative depiction of a “full worship experience” at the mall, complete with all the “smells and bells” needs to be read in full to be truly appreciated, as his depiction of the mall as a cathedral pilgrimage site makes unfamiliar the familiar, and makes us truly stop and think about just what kind of liturgy we’re competing against. As Smith states, The mall understands humans as desiring creatures.

I think we must admit that the marketing industry is able to capture, form, and direct our desires precisely because it has rightly discerned that we are embodied, desiring creatures who’s being-in-the-world is governed by the imagination. Marketers have figured out the way to our heart because they “get it”: they rightly understand that, at root, we are erotic creatures–creatures who are oriented primarily by love and passion and desire. In sum, I think Victoria is in on Augustine’s secret. (Smith, 76)

The mall (or marketplace) is of particular interest considering Apple’s press coverage today. I think Apple’s brilliant marketing, design, and a knack for grabbing our hearts fits in perfectly with Smith’s analysis.  They even have their own saint…

from the homepage at abcnews.com

These pictures tell a story. Combine that with insane apple fanaticism, monumental media attention, and a half a billion “followers” (apparently there are 500,000,000 iTunes subscribers), and you have a religion. A religion that tells us what is good, what we need, and what we’ll buy as soon as we are able to.

 

 Where do we go from here?

In part 2, “Desiring the Kingdom”  James K.A. Smith offers a counter for the church to paint the picture of “the good life” through our Christian practices of worship based around the teachings of Jesus. We cannot simply shun consumerism – we need to offer a replacement. The result of the fall was not that we stopped loving, but that we began loving the wrong things. It’s up to the church – the hands and feet of Jesus – to re-orient our desires to what they were intended for and the only thing that will bring ultimate fulfillment. Lord help us. More on that after I read part 2, and even more on that after I read his second book: “Imagining the Kingdom: How Worship Works“. Unfortunately I have to save up for my iWatch so it will be a while until I can afford paper books again.

 

The language of space

A few months ago, I saw yet another interesting ted talk, this one on the way that architecture has influenced music.  The spaces in which we fill sound directly affect the kind of sounds produced there.  David Byrne chronicles the history of music in relation to the history of archetecture.  Reverberant gothic cathedrals allow for polyphonic music, concert halls request loud symphonic music, arenas require slower tempos and clear vocal lines to be understood.  Check out the video:

This term at BU’s School of Theology (my new stomping ground!), I’m taking a course titled “Introduction to Christian Worship.”  For this course we are reading James White’s book of the same title.  I’ve just finished the chapter on the Language of Space, which discusses how the spaces we use for liturgical worship affect and reveal our beliefs.  His main point seems to be this:  Whatever the space, it must function to allow for “speaking and touching in God’s name.”  I like this stripping down of the definition of worship.  Too often I think of worship as what we do on Sunday mornings.

A few definitions of worship:

The Vatican defines worship as “the glorification of God and the sanctification of humanity”

The Anglican Church calls it “setting forth of God’s honor or glory, and to the reducing of the people to a most perfect and godly living.”

Russian Orthodoxy says “the response of men to the Divine call, to the ‘mighty deeds’ of God, culminating in the redemptive act of Christ.”

And White, as quoted before, likens the phrase “speaking and touching in God’s name”.

My professor, Don Saliers, has his own definition that is more focused on Christ: “The ongoing word, prayer, and action of Jesus Christ in and through his body in the world made alive by the holy spirit.”

I digress…

Whatever your definition of worship, you need to have a space in which to worship.  I could go into discussion of why a community of worshippers is important, but that is for another blog post.  White outlines 5 different criteria which are required for proper worship spaces: Utility, simplicity, flexibility, intimacy, and beauty.   After all, “Churches are built to be used, not to be monuments for tourists to admire or art historians to chronicle.”

And it is for good reasons churches debate over the planning of new spaces for worship.  During high school, my church demolished and built an entirely new building, providing new spaces for classes and many different ministries to meet.  During college, for many years my church was creating drafts and proposals for a new building.  After many discussions and an eventual decision made by the congregation the project was cancelled.

White’s five criteria are important to think about when making decisions about church buildings and worship space planning, but I would imagine it very difficult to think about all of them at once.  Gothic cathedrals are beautiful but not flexible.  My home church (no offense!) is quite simple but not always beautiful (just don’t look up).  That new building they made?  Very flexible (cascading partition walls, multiple classroom configurations), but not very intimate.  To me it seems that more and more reformed churches are going for utility and simplicity over beauty and intimacy.  I attended on church that met in an elementary school multi-purpose room!

But what effect does that have on the music, if I may transition to the main topic of this blog?  What does David Byrnes talk say about the direction of christian worship through music?  Buildings are much more permanent than the latest christian rock song.  White says “After it is built, it will continue to shape worship in its image for generations.  Although it is not completely true that the building will always win, we must at least recognize in it a powerful ally and a formidable foe. Its witness will outlast its builders.

And this is true.  I formed a choir for christmas and good friday services at my church in Santa Barbara, which I really enjoyed doing and was pleased with the music.  In the end, however, the space was not correct for that style of music (my church did praise music), so as good as they sounded, the style did not fit the space.

My new church has a fantastic history of hymnody and a marvelous organ, which fits the space really well and envelops the congregational voice.  This church is one that does morning “traditional” and evening “contemporary” services.  I try as often as I can to attend the morning services, because I like the senior pastor a lot and am partial to “traditional” worship music…whatever that means.  I also attend the early services because I hope more young people would discover the beauty of hymnody.  [Anecdote: Saliers told us a heartwarming story of a kids choir that was learning hymns and kids worship songs.  When one kid was asked which song was his favorite, he told him the hymn was his favorite.  This puzzled Saliers because the language was much too complex for a 8 year old boy.  When asked why, the kid replied “The words taste so good!”] Anyway…lead by example right?

On some Sundays, however, I’m lucky to have a church job playing piano for a morning service.  This leads me to attend the evening services at Park Street.  In the same physical space where choir and organ sing, drum set, electric guitars, bass, synthesizers, and powerpoint.  I’ve since gotten used to it, but the first time I walked into the evening “contemporary” service, it sounded like mush (again…no offense!).  The whitewashed walls, high ceiling, and wooden pews made the music echo and sound generally boomy (though not as bad as that church in the M-P room).  It’s not that the music wasn’t worship-full, but it seemed out of place in such that space.  Should churches have services for “traditional” folks, and services for “contemporary” kids?  Should we have two different spaces for two different styles of music?  My inclination is no, but more on that later.

Utility, simplicity, flexibility, intimacy, and beauty.  Let’s strive for these in our worship spaces.