I have a friend who meets me in the same place every time we get together – Panera Bread. He uses a bit of cream in his coffee whereas I always drink mine straight up black. We sit down and sip our Java as we settle into a casual banter about our kids, church, doubts, fears, struggles, joys, and Harry Potter.
Another friend of mine who I haven’t seen in years but talk to on the phone about every other month will always make me laugh. Like clockwork. We were Navy roommates in Bahrain back in 1994 or so. I can always count on him to not allow me to take myself too seriously even as he takes me seriously. Our conversations are peppered with a good many crude jokes about each other, laced with sarcasm throughout, and always end with us telling the other, “Love you, brother.”
What I just briefly described are two relationships rich in ritual. The common language shared in each of these scenarios are what make these relationships special to me. Both of these relationships (and I could rattle off several others), regardless of the amount of time spent apart, once together feel like slipping into an old, worn, faded pair of jeans. What makes them so comfortable? The rituals we share.
In fact, the more I think about it, relationship doesn’t exist without ritual. Ritual is relationship.
I made that comment somewhat flippantly on my Facebook page the other day when a friend worried that in many liturgical churches ritual is valued more than relationship. I understand the perception behind such sentiments.
I remember when my dad transitioned from being a Nazarene to Lutheran pastor when I was 18. The first Lutheran service I attended was so strange to me. Why were people praying out of books? Why are they all saying the same things? My impression of them was that they were stodgy and cold. Surely they didn’t have a real relationship with God if they have to be told how and when to pray!
And I remember my first introduction to a Pentecostal worship service nearly 10 years later. As I watched people lift their hands in the air or shouting “Hallelujah!” when prompted by the worship leader (or whenever they darn-well felt like it), I wondered, Who are these people kidding? The sentimentalism combined with group hysteria and arm waving seemed fake to me. Surely they didn’t have a real relationship with God if they shout Praise the Lord! on cue while waving their arms in unison.
From my seat of judgment I declared both groups – the one formal and high, the other informal and low – as non-relational. Their rituals obviously obscured any meaningful relationship between they and God.
I can be such a prick.
Had I actually been interested in cultivating relationships myself (which requires so much effort and intimacy) I would have discovered that the elderly chanting Lutherans spent much of their spare time canning goods to give to the homeless shelter or praying collects for the sick with friends and strangers in nursing homes. I would have learned that the pew-jumping, hand-waving, Hallelujah-shoutin’ hippie gave away all of his money to help fund a mission trip for others and spends most of his free time holding ad-hoc bible studies at the local bookstore.
Apparently the rituals they enacted in worship fed their relationships with one another and the Divine in such a way that it bled into rituals they enacted throughout the week which in turn fed their relationships with one another and the Divine, and vice versa. Their rituals gave form and function to an otherwise vapid and amorphous relationship, much like my coffee time with Allen or my phone chats with Ryan.
Back then I had my own ritual (though I never would have called it that!). I surveyed the masses during worship picking out the frauds and the unrepentant so that I could leave church feeling rather good about myself. I had a real relationship, I mused, unlike these phonies going through the motions each week.
Did I mention I can be a prick?
But something happened to me one Sunday morning in a Pentecostal worship service a number of years ago. The worship leader had the congregation in their usual frenzy while I was striking my usual pose of hands stuffed deep in pockets, especially whenever the signal to “Raise those hands for Jesus!” was given. Yet this time something was different. I sensed for the first time that perhaps the problem wasn’t them, but me. Perhaps they, crazy as they may be and as ritualistic as they appeared in their corporate craziness, had something that I could only theorize or theologize about. Perhaps the truth was that I was just scared to admit that there was something beautifully intimate about their rituals that made them one with each other and one with their God. And I craved it.
My hands slowly came out of my pockets that morning and my fists opened as I raised my arms above my head. I remember tears streaming down my face as I felt walls which I had spent a life time erecting begin to topple.
A simple ritual like raising my hands did more to nurture my relationship with God than a lifetime of ritualistically avoiding ritual.
As the years went by I found myself gravitating more and more towards high church liturgy. The chants and the prayers and the weekly Eucharist fed my soul and continue to do so in ways I couldn’t have imagined back when I thought ritual was an affront to relationship. It is my relationship! Ritual adds form and function to my relationship with God. It gives me the gift of a common language to share with God and my neighbor. All of us have been in those awkward first meeting moments where neither person knows the other well enough to know what to say or do. Relationships take time to form, and they form around shared language and gestures, or rituals.
Ritual has taught me that love is action. I may not always feel like I am in love, but my feelings are deceptive. Watch and see what happens to a marriage when loving acts are only done when love is felt. In the same way I don’t always believe God is real. Or near. Or loving. It is in times like these that I am grateful for the other “cloud of witnesses” that stand around me to say the creeds when my words seem forced. They believe in my place. Perhaps next week I can believe for them.
A friend asked me the other day what I get out of going to a liturgical, ritualistic church. I told him that in a chaotic world where life seems so random it is a gift to be able to re-enact and re-tell the story week after week. Ritual gives me roots that help nurture relationship when I both feel like it and when I don’t.
When I sat down to write this I did it in part to see if I really believed what I pithily wrote: Ritual is Relationship. Finishing it now, while sitting in Starbucks with my Pike’s Place brew to my left, my phone to my right and earplugs in my ears with Mumford & Sons on repeat, I recognize how ritualistic I am in so many things. And that’s OK. It makes me human. Perhaps the question to ask isn’t whether or not ritual replaces relationship, since they are one and the same. Perhaps the best question to ask is,
What sort of rituals/relationships are we performing? How are they forming us?
We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit. -Aristotle
“[Y]ou nullify the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down.” ~ Jesus (Mark 7:13a)
The question is, which tradition? So yes, it matters what sort of rituals/traditions we are performing.
Jesus would also institute a new tradition: This bread is my body…do this in remembrance of me.
Didn’t Jesus establish a tradition for us to hand down with the institution of the covenant renewal ceremony we call Eucharist?
I hope you’re not assuming that inorder for ‘everyone’ to have true ‘relationship’ they have to have ritual. I’m glad that works for you and you found meaning and ‘life’ in it.
My deepest most honest and intimate relationships have no ritual to them. And I found that is what makes them so rich.
Rocco, I never said anything about the reality of what is or is not a “true” relationship. Only that relationships are ritual. There is a common language and “dance” so to speak shared between intimate friends, otherwise they wouldn’t be friends. I bet if we talked about the things that make your intimate friendships deep and honest we’d discover all sorts of things that are “ritual” in them.
I don’t quite understand this aversion to ritual – as though it is a four-letter word.
I take that back – I DO understand (sorta) why there is so much aversion to ritual because I once felt the same way (as I explained in the post). I’m not trying to judge relationships based on whether you go to a high church or not, Rocco (or anyone). If you got that from this post, I invite you to read it again. I’m simply arguing that all our relationships are formed around ritual, and this is GOOD! It’s not something to be fearful of or antagonistic against.
peace
I don’t understand why some people suggest that it’s either ritual or spontaneity. Why not both? It’s not as if going to Eucharist on Sunday prevents singing Hallelujah on Monday (or, indeed, dancing on Saturday).
When I was a teenager, attending church three times a week, singing in the worship band, and learning a lot that I had to later un-learn (though that was my family at the time and it fed me in more ways than one), one of the ideas that was passed to me was that the liturgical churches were not really Christian. (What they actually said was more controversial than that, but this suffices.)
So why was it that when I walked into my first Episcopal church service a couple years ago, the presence of God was palatable, I was humbled, and I understood that there truly was joy in every morning? I dare to use a new-agey word here, but it was an extremely grounding experience.
If everything we see is symbolism for something greater, then the ritual of a high liturgical church points to God in the same way the rituals I performed in the church I attended in high school. And make no mistake, the non-denominational church I attended was just as ritualistic as St. Paul’s Episcopal. Did the rituals look different? Yes. Did they attempt to point to the same Thing? Yes.
The question isn’t “ritual or no ritual.” The question is, is this ritual feeding my ego or pointing all of our eyes toward God? And that question is a fitting one whether we’re talking about church or our interpersonal relationships with one another. (IMO) (YMMV)
Thank you for writing this, Chad. I get cynical about ritual but it turns me around frequently. I have no idea if you are a prick or not but I highly suspect that I certainly am. I have a running group that ritually meets every Saturday and we have met to run, walk, drink coffee, and just visit for 15 years. Ritual? I suppose. But I truly value these guys very much. Recently one was diagnosed with MS. He has a 3 year old son. This was very sad but we have a history and so we have a way to connect. A future. He knows of my history of life also so we both have a way to relate. Another ritual in my church is a Capella singing. Ritual? I suppose but a moment of cohesion and mystery for me. Ritual can be a common point for making a connection. Church. Love you. Lonnie
Sure, you can ritualize everything in life. From your morning routine to the way you wipe your ass (and you worried about ‘prick’). Even still, the best things about my relationships are the things that are NOT ritual. ESPECIALLY my relationship with God.
I’m reminded that Jesus never(?) healed the same way twice. My thought is that if He did, we’d make a ritual out of it and worship the ritual and not Him. That already happens more then any of us want to admit.
Again, the best part of all my relationships have nothing to do with ‘ritual’. It is the ‘spur of the moment’, the ‘erratic’, the ‘unforeseen curve in the road’ that makes my relationships so real and life giving to me.
I guess part of my point is that the best part of my relationships are NOT from ‘ritual’, and this is GOOD! It’s not something to be fearful of or antagonistic against, deeper still, I am OK with where you are in your journey and that you find meaning/life in ritual, I just hope you can understand that ‘I don’t', I find the most meaning and life in the non-ritual.
I hope you can understand that I can love you and yet not agree with you. Deep down inside I thing that’s my point (maybe even an expectation, that we can be on different journeys and paths, and yet still appreciate where each other are, have been, and are going? Without forcing each other to walk the same path we’re on).
Hey rocco,
This was never about whose journey is better or comparing one against the other, so of course we can appreciate where the other is. That goes without saying.
But would you be spontaneous with a complete stranger, someone you have no shared history with? Ritual doesnt mean static. Improvisation makes life fun, but I think we can all agree the best improv comes out of shared experience.
My theology and preaching profs loved jazz. Jazz is highly spontaneous but jazz players will tell you you dont get to do that well untill you know your part well. It takes practice.
Jesus could improv the many ways he healed cause he was the great physician. But in all their spontanaity they had the ritual of pointing the healing work back to God. Jesus himself instituted rituals like eucharist and baptism. He calls us to embody certain habits which make us better people.
See my point? Ritual isnt the devil. It is all around us, and can be a blessing.
I wonder if the definition has been skewed here a little.
According to Wikipedia ritual is;
“A ritual is a set of actions, performed mainly for their symbolic value.” I think what is being talked about above with relationships and churches is more like form and structure. Form and structure are not symbolic, they just are. A living, dynamic relationship is not well supported by something that is performed for it’s symbolic value. My wife never would accept an action that I argued was symbolic of my love for her. I’m sure she would prefer the real thing.
Chad, you’ve done a wonderful job of pointing out the ways ritual are important in all of our relationships, and I have to admit that I meet certain friends at certain restaurants and order certain things with them. I am also very spontaneous and avoid repetition and predictability in my life, including my morning routine and the route I take to work. My husband of 31 years is the same. So we’re well-matched on that, I guess – celebrating birthdays and anniversaries are not important to either one of us. But I agree that ritual can create intimacy and safety and connection in important ways. But does ritual in the Church create a sense of connectedness among the people familiar with it and make other people feel like outsiders. Like the ritual creates relationship, and I’m not in it? Even in the relatively low church setting I recently left after 16 years, our standing/sitting patterns, saying the Lord’s Prayer at the end of Prayers of the People, and singing Doxology as the offering is carried forward are all things that could make never-churched people feel like outsiders, even though they’re printed in the bulletin. When I’ve tried to find new churches, even as someone raised in the church, I’ve always hated walking in and not understanding the ritual. Our church now is just praise songs, teaching (with scripture on the screen), and more music, with prayer sprinkled throughout. I can invite any of my friends and know that at least they won’t feel like they’re not part of the club because they don’t know the secret code words! Are our worship gatherings mostly about our worshipping God with other Christians, or about making everyone feel comfortable coming into the family? Just wondering what you think….
Ritual, form and function, all good terms to describe who, and what we are, and how we interact with one another, including God. Chad, I believe this is one of your best pieces so far.
To those who are involved in our daily lives, whether it is in the community of a certain church, our families, God, and even ourselves, ritual establishes and stabilizes our relationship.
To those looking at us from the outside the circle see us through they eyes of form and function. Form and function describes what we do, but not who we are. Ritual does that.
Using the simple daily task of dressing and preparing for the day, demonstrates we follow a certain form and function to the observer. But to the individual, all has become ritual. Try doing what you do daily upon rising in a different “order”. Change the form and function. Then see how you identify. I am positive you will be lost for a time as you try to rediscover who your are and what your role is on that day.
Our “form and function” in worship creates the “ritual” by which we identify and establish interaction in our relationships with other worshipers and with the Father. Same is true for family. And self.
I have been involved, as you, in the free and laid back to the high church. EACH has its ritual. I identify better though through the high church. I have friends who identify better in the free church. We all identify together through our rituals that draw us together.
I love ribs, crabs, and the Olive Garden. I write. I talk about God. I write about God. I enjoy good, clean, wholesome fun (defined by me as all that). And those that have the same form and function join me in my rituals of engaging life to the fullest.
So for those who see ritual as a dirty word, I challenge you to change your form and function, and see if life is as engaging. It really is your “ritual” that enhances your interactions with others and your self.
Thanks Chad, for a great reminder of “ritual” in our lives, and for pointing out the necessity to not judge others in their “form and function”.
Dr. Abby
PS: And Chad, since you are recieving some negative comments just proves you have hit another nerve among the family of God. Thanks for doing that. You are more like Jesus everyday.
Hi Bhanson
Thanks for this comment and for your questions – they get to the heart of the matter in many respects, I think.
What I hear in your comment is a genuine concern for the visitor or “outsider” – the uninitiated. It would be nice if everyone shared that same concern.
But what I want to push back against here is the notion that the Church has nothing to teach the outsider or uninitiated. I fear we dumb-down our faith and our tradition when we try to make it something that anyone can just jump in and “get” without the assistance of others. If an outsider can walk into a worship service and feel totally at home, shouldn’t we ask the question, “What are we doing here if this feels no different from your living room?”
I love how on the front of our worship bulletin (which explains what we are doing and what to say and when to say it) they have listed the “leaders” of the church. On top is the Archbishop, below that is the Rector (priest) then right below that is “The people of St. Luke’s Episcopal, Ministers” We are ALL ministers, and as such (according to St. Paul in Ephesians 4), our duty is to “equip” the saints for works of ministry and service. We ought to take our role seriously as ministers who teach and instruct the newcomer in the language and mystery they are being exposed to. We claim to be worshipping the Almighty God. Shouldn’t our worship be at least a little bit vexing and different to the first time visitor?
Just some food for thought.
thank you Lonnie. Much love
Thank you, Dr. Abby! Love your summary about form and function. Thanks!
“Prick” is a very strong word, I’d say more like “idiot!” No, just kidding. Thanks so much for your insights. Of course, women have secretly known this for thousand of years. Just saying. Peace.
You are mis-reading everything I am saying and thinking that I am completely against ritual. I am NOT. I am sharing my perspective and experiences and you think I am attacking ‘ritual’. Why?
If I’ve misread your intent, Rocco, I apologize. Your last several comments, however, sounded to me as though you were against anything that smelled of ritual. I’m glad I’m mistaken.
peace
“But would you be spontaneous with a complete stranger, someone you have no shared history with? ” Of course! And I have, what’s so bad about that?
Going back to your original post…You said; “In fact, the more I think about it, relationship doesn’t exist without ritual. Ritual is relationship.”
I can see why you would say that from my life experiences. I’ve spent most of my life in ‘ritual’ thinking I had wonderful relationships with those I was in ‘ritual’ with. Yet, as soon as the ritual was removed from the table, the fact that there was no relationship was exposed, because the relationship never actually existed. It was just a ritual. Does that mean it is true for everyone? Surely not.
I have found in the past 7 years that you can have great, awesome, intimate, ‘relationships’, WITHOUT ritual. You don’t have to accept that, you don’t have to believe it. It is true for me none the less.
Maybe someday you can say ” ‘[I believe that] relationship doesn’t exist without ritual. Ritual is relationship’, but I know of someone who’s life experiences are just the opposite.’ And that’s cool.”.
A former pastor, whom I love, often said “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you always got.”
(ps. My wife is a Jazz musician, and what makes Jazz ‘Jazz’ is that there is no ‘ritual’ to it.)
1) I don’t see anywhere on here where someone says ‘ritual’ is a dirty word. Those are you’re ‘assumptions’. It is not a dirty word. Maybe you’re afraid to see that just because Ritual is great thing in your life, it doesn’t mean it has to be in everyone else’s.
2) You say; “I challenge you to change your form and function, and see if life is as engaging” – I’ll always take that challenge, because those have been the MOST engaging times of my life!
I am sorry they came out that way. I’m not against ‘ritual’. I don’t agree with “relationship doesn’t exist without ritual. Ritual is relationship.”, 10 years ago I would have, but time has a funny way of changing minds…
Growing up in the world of Fundigelicalism, I used to view liturgy and ritual as empty form that was nothing more than a show of religiousity for people who wanted to LOOK religious, but really had nothing inside. When the time came that Fundigelicalism all but destroyed my heart and soul, when I dared to set foot in a church again, it was a liturgical church; The Episcopal Church. I the 2+ years that I have been a part of the beloved community at St. Gregorys, I have discovered the deepest healing, greatest spiritual growth, and most meaningful worship experience of my entire life. Perhaps it’s not ritual that kills .. it’s what we do with it.
“Perhaps it’s not ritual that kills .. it’s what we do with it.” – Excellent!
Really? Did she not accept an engagement ring and then a wedding ring? Or a valentines box of chocolates or birthday gift? Not love of themselves but symbols of a greater love – one might even say evidence
Good post Chad. Yeah, I agree that there are lots of rituals built into strong healthy relationships — with God and with one another. Ritual helps move us beyond the superficial toward deeper meaning.