Entering a Counter-Intuitive Story

[T]he liturgy helps us enter a counter-intuitive story. In an individualistic culture, the liturgy helps us live a communal life. In a culture that values spontaneity, the liturgy grounds us in something enduring. In a culture that assumes that truth is a product of the mind, the liturgy helps us experience truth in both mind and body. In a world demanding instant relevance, the liturgy gives us the patience to live into a relevance that the world does not know. Its counter-intuitive nature makes the liturgy appear culturally strange at first, but in fact it’s more like an intriguing story,full of mystery, that not only attracts but reshapes our perceptions and our lives.

A caution. The liturgy is not a magic potion or carpet ride.

The dreariest services I’ve been to have been liturgical services.

And the spiritually deadest churches I’ve attended have been rich in liturgy.

…But there is a reason the liturgy has continued to be the staple of the bulk of Christendom: it remains a powerful context in which to be transformed by God. Still, it should not surprise us that the liturgy is also one of the best places to hide from God.

The Garden of Eden was a place where Adam and Eve enjoyed the goodness of God and hid from his presence. Yet if we will refuse to hide within the ritual, it can work on us an d in us to transform us. I believe—and it has been my experience—that ongoing participation in the liturgy is ongoing participation in the life of God and, as such, will lead, as C. S. Lewis envisions human transformation, to a life “dazzling, radiant … pulsating all through with . . . energy, joy, and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine.”