wfn.org | Episcopalians: Worship in Nashville cathedral explores 'sacred soul space'

[dmack@episcopalchurch.org]

March 25, 2003

2003-065

Episcopalians: Worship in Nashville cathedral explores 'sacred 
soul space'

by Ray Waddle

(ENS) The climate in early March was Lenten to the bone at 
Christ Church Cathedral in Nashville--darkened stone sanctuary, 
penitential prayers--but the music for this particular service 
carried the pulse of synthesizers, filling the 109-year-old nave 
with the dusky syncopations of minor-key dance music.

Last time the worship music was all medieval. Next month it may 
be Hank Williams Sr. or an African drum corps, Ghana-style. No 
one knows what to expect.

Most of the 250 worshipers were, as usual, non-members. There 
was no customary collection plate, no prayer book needed. The 
sermon was three minutes long. Professional dancers and 
musicians filled the space with movement and sound. And it was 
all happening on a Friday night after work, not a Sabbath morn.

Still, despite the odd sonic twists and visual turns, the 
service was Episcopalian, the rhythms liturgical. Eucharist was 
center stage, flanked by hymns like "Let Us Break Break Bread 
Together."

Beauty as an avenue

Welcome to "First Friday: Sacred Soul Space," a 
cathedral-sponsored  monthly alternative service that has 
emerged as an Episcopal answer to the turbulent trend of 
contemporary worship in American religious life.

In the last decade, the worship wars have often divided 
congregations over dilemmas of style. Organ or guitar? Classical 
or pop? All in the name of repackaging the ancient gospel and 
attracting new members.

Without acrimony, Christ Church Cathedral has found a third way, 
taking an eclectic approach, a blend of ancient and new, seizing 
on an aspect of worship that many Protestant churches ignore: 
Beauty.

"I really believe that beauty is an avenue into the heart of 
God," said the Rev. Ken Swanson, dean of Christ Church 
Cathedral. "These liturgies are wonderful artistic creations, 
and that's why people come. They are struck by the beauty of 
God."

Every first Friday of the month at 6 p.m. the church opens its 
doors on a new liturgical adventure. It aims to wed music, dance 
and words to create an experience of the senses that takes 
worshipers to some new emotional place, while rooted in the 
gospel message.

"We couldn't do this on Sunday morning," Swanson said. "It would 
be too jarring to those who are used to a different liturgical 
rhythm."

Tied to church calendar

Each service is tied to a theme in the church calendar -- 
Advent, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost -- whatever the season 
dictates. But worshipers otherwise are never sure what awaits 
them.

There might be a moody poem by T.S. Eliot, read aloud. Or a 
dance enactment of the first verses of Genesis. Or a PowerPoint 
display of passages from the Psalms. Or all the above, bathed in 
rose incense, in the course of a 70-minute service.

"What happens at this service? The fact that people come says as 
much as whatever I might say," said Sheldon Curry, a 
professional composer who is a key shaper of the First Friday 
experience. "People bothering to get in the car for something on 
a Friday evening, even from out of town, and driving downtown 
and parking and coming in here means they're doing it 
purposefully, not by rote."

The services maintain a thread of contemplative silence and 
candlelight that might segue into a near-hootenanny by the time 
of the final dismissal.  A gallery of acoustic instrumentalists, 
drawn from Nashville's famous music scene and assembled by 
Curry, can sight-read everything from a 12th-century composition 
by Hildegard of Bingen to the hand-clapping gospel bluegrass of 
"O Brother Where Art Thou?"

Lee Levine, a Presbyterian who attends regularly, was skeptical 
at first.  The notion of dancers and acoustic music at church, 
when she was first told about it,   suggested just another 
cheesy contemporary church brew of sentimental pap and piety. 
But First Friday blew her away, she said.

"I'm not a fan of the warm and fuzzy," said Levine, who plays 
clarinet in the Nashville Symphony. "What's interesting here is 
it definitely has a contemporary edge, yet because of the dance 
and the high-church parts it does take you to a meditative 
place. And I really like that it's on Friday night. You're 
starting your weekend with spiritual grounding. It feels really 
good, and it just makes sense."

Gift to the city

First Friday was hatched in fall 2000. The idea was to expand 
the citywide offerings and ministry of Christ Church, the 
downtown parish that had been elevated to cathedral status in 
the Diocese of Tennessee in 1997.

Christ Church's membership has doubled in the last decade, 
standing now at about 2,000 parishioners and still growing. 
Membership decline -- the motivating force for many alternative 
worship experiments in mainline churches -- was not the issue 
here.

It was Swanson's dream to create a worship service as a "gift to 
the city of Nashville," something that freshly communicated the 
gospel. But he wasn't sure what it would look or sound like.

It took the peculiar alchemy of four other staffers or 
professionals to forge the First Friday sensibility -- cathedral 
canon Anne Stevenson, lay liturgist Alice Nichols, professional 
choreographer Grete Gryzwana-Teague and musician Curry.

"No one knew what it would be when we started," said Nichols, 
the divinity student and psychotherapist who is responsible for 
much of the First Friday liturgy. "At first we were thinking of 
doing something to appeal to Gen-Xers. But it hasn't really 
turned out that way. We're attracting a mix of people -- young 
people but baby boomers too," she said. "I think the whole 
service has a hospitable feel to it, a feeling of invitation."

Emotional benchmarks

A series of emotional benchmarks define each service. One is a 
major dance sequence, just before the homily, performed by the 
six-member Epiphany Dance Company, a troupe that performs in 
various venues locally. It is choreographed by director 
Gryzwana-Teague, who has national experience as a dancer and 
teacher of modern dance and the Authentic Pilates fitness 
program.

"My aim is to take the theme and try to translate it into a 
contemporary thought, or totally pare it down," she said. "Using 
dance, music and visuals, we want to engage all the senses. So 
when people walk into the sanctuary I hope they get the feeling 
they are free to experience any part we have to offer."

Swanson usually gives the sermons. He is used to preaching 15-20 
minutes on Sunday morning. Here, he trims it to three minutes or 
so, a more impressionistic, less propositional discourse. The 
shortened sermon also gives the dance and other elements more 
time to flourish.

"I'll come in with a prepared homily, but I'll often jettison it 
after seeing the dance," he said. "I'll take it in a different 
direction because I'm responding emotionally to what we've just 
seen in the dance."

Another binding moment is the litany of names that are called 
out and prayed for publicly during the "Prayers for the People." 
Worshipers are invited to write down names on a card and place 
them in a plate. The names are then read aloud -- 160 of them at 
a recent service.

"We know people are usually hesitant to call out names," said 
Nichols, who is called First Friday's Minister of Ceremonies. 
"So instead, here is an invitation to write down names to pray 
for -- perhaps the only time people are ever invited to write 
down names like that."

Another highlight is the Sanctus ("Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of 
power and might ...") during the Eucharistic prayers. The 
Sanctus music is written by Curry and it is accompanied by a 
series of sweeping hand motions that everyone is encouraged to 
try, a variation of American Sign Language created by 
Gryzwana-Teague.

Creative and imaginative

By now the service draws an estimated 250 or more. Sometimes 50 
new people show up. It is not cheap to produce. It costs about 
$2,500 a month to pay dancers and musicians, print up a beefy 
leaflet (the order of service, so people don't have to navigate 
through the Book of Common Prayer and hymnal) and provide food 
and drink for the popular reception afterward.

Bishop Bertram Herlong of the Diocese of Tennessee, who is kept 
informed by cathedral priests about the liturgies used at First 
Friday, said he applauds Christ Church for "coming at this in a 
new way."

"Being creative and imaginative and different, it's attracting 
people who might not be coming to church," he said. "It's part 
of the cathedral plan to be a ministry to the city. They're 
offering not new answers but asking new questions, namely, How 
do you express in contemporary terms the truth of the gospel and 
the meaning of liturgy?"

Liturgical prayers are taken from the BCP or from supplemental 
sources and experimental liturgies approved for Anglican use. 
Some have a Celtic flavor, others are shortened for greater 
impact on worshipers. Some are crafted anew. The blessing at the 
close of the February First Friday, focusing on a Candlemas 
theme and the Virgin Mary (and written by Alice Nichols), 
declared: "May Almighty God, who chose Mary the virgin to bear 
the Divine Child, open your hearts to be God's chosen vessel as 
well. Amen.

"May God, who sustained Mary the mother in her suffering, fill 
you with wisdom, courage, and hope. Amen.

"May God, who granted Mary unending life in heaven, be your 
Source of light in this life and the next. Amen.

"And the blessing of God, Creator, Redeemer, and Giver of Life, 
be upon you and remain with you forever. Amen."

"We keep the service within the Anglican framework," said canon 
and liturgist Anne Stevenson, "but within that framework we find 
the best expressions we can and try to make it particularly 
welcoming to people.  We're looking to use the best of 
everything, ancient and modern."

------

--Ray Waddle, religion editor at The Tennessean in Nashville 
from 1984-2001, is a writer and lecturer in Nashville. His book 
of meditations on the Psalms will be published early next year 
by Upper Room Books. He is a member of Christ Church Cathedral.