Pigeons,
When you are on the dais, you are ON.
Please be so.
I am always astonished by the lack of formality exhibited by some clergy folk during funerals and memorial services: when not actually speaking from the pulpit, they sit in their chairs or pews looking totally relaxed and happy, as if they were at Starbucks waiting for a friend.
You’re PRESIDING OVER A FUNERAL. One would presume the presiding clergy to therefore be connected to deep realities for that hour, non?
This is something I would not advise you to try to fake, as it can’t be faked. It is not religiously appropriate for any of us to let our minds wander to the budget meeting, the Florida vacation, the fight with the spouse, or the sushi dinner we’re looking forward to for any length of time while leading worship. There is such a thing as spiritual discipline, and that involves disciplining the mind. The presence will follow.
What you are thinking about shows on your face and in your demeanor. PeaceBang finds an overly-comfy pastor presiding over a funeral (crossed legs, wiggled foot, slumped down as if he’s watching a football game, casual grin, tousled manner) a deeply upsetting presence on such an occasion. It causes her to wonder, “Where is this guy or gal, really? Because they sure ain’t here now!” The hail-fellow-well-met Scripture reading tone makes me cringe perhaps even more than an overly-theatrical, maudlin reading would have done. There’s a wide territory between Junior High Drama Club-level funereal tones and casual tossings off of the Good Word : find it. Know it, and please practice it. An extra clouting about the ears for those who give cutesy sing-song cadences to Scripture at any time, and yes, I’ve heard men doing it, too!
It is not necessary, either, to erase all evidence of your own personality when you preside: PeaceBang would NEVER promote that. She is simply saying that you should actually BE THERE, at the solemn occasion, at all moments and to be disciplined about it. Never take it for granted, never slide into a funeral or other formal occasion without being mentally prepared to do so, and never “get used to” funerals. Never. When we are consigning a soul to God’s grace, we are not a casual presence.
Pay attention. Conduct your energy and life force appropriately. It is not fair to zone out during the musical pieces or during other people’s spoken or sung participation in the liturgy. Never preside at the Eucharist in a perfunctory manner, as if you’d like to be done with it already to get to the grocery store.
That was a stern talking-to, wasn’t it?
My, I must have needed that.
By the way, because some of you like to know who and what, specifically, inspire these rants: I keep tiny notebooks of liturgical outrages for years and then I write about them from a safe distance from the actual event. In most cases, however, my diatribes are the result of no one specific event but from descriptions from colleagues and my own observation of behaviors of which I have collected several examples.
That’s my methodology, darlings.
Kiss, kiss!
Clergy in Elizabeth, New Jersey at a recent rally for immigration rights. All clearly engaged, all dignified and even if relaxed in their legs, showing by their posture and tension in neck and face that they are listening respectfully and they CARE.
Well said. You know what is helpful I learned from figure skating? Posture. Adult figure skaters tend to have very bad posture. We slump and round our shoulders – very bad for figure skating and life in general. It started with me just practicing keeping my back straight. When I am sitting during a service I am presiding at my feet are flat on the floor, no crossed legs, my back is straight and my shoulders back. It is hard work. Because leading worship is work. I find this is helpful in worship even when I am not leading. It reminds me that this is not nap time.
Amen! Absolutely agree… we need to remember to be present at all times and that our body language is an important aspect of our communication with those around us.
Very well said. Thank you for the much needed reminder.
My job requires attending as well as leading many, many funerals. From my experience I’d say the retired ‘rent-a-revs’ who do services are the worst I’ve seen for this. Their ‘been there done this so many times I can do it my sleep’ attitude drives me crazy.
Thanks Joelle- you remind me of the ballet I used to do. Excellent thing to bear in mind.
I was actually in a situation the other day when a person’s supervisor was attending an event as an observer,and he fell asleep and SNORED through most of the person’s very important presentation. He made a joke later about how he’d missed his normal post-lunch nap. I was not amused, and I told him so.
As someone in her first year of ministry, I worry about “public face” a lot!
I don’t think I commit any of the sins named here, but I can be pretty uptight. I go in and out of being totally spiritually present and then have other moments of checking and rechecking the OoS; scanning the congregation for the lay person who’s doing a piece of liturgy later in the service; becoming convinced that my sermon notes that been stolen by aliens without my noticing. [“Fake it ’til you make it,” darling! – PB]
Gosh, Bee. Your post reminds me of a requiem mass at which I assisted, for stillborn twins. The sermon was appalling–the preacher announced that the only reason those babies weren’t in hell was because their parents were Christians. (I’m ashamed to say this was in an Episcopal Church–not mine, thank God!) The adult server who was assisting fell asleep in the middle of it and emitted a loud snore. Completely appropriate.
My sympathies to you, Sarah, and even more to the family of the twins. What an appalling story.
In the novel In This House of Brede, the Mother Superior of a convent is described as presiding in her chair and sitting so that her back never quite touched the back of the chair. For some reason when I read that in HS it stuck with me as a description of someone who was focused, authoritative, and worthy of emulation. I still think of it when I find I am slumping…
I used to be in the habit of “slinking” when I had to move somewhere on the dais when something else was going on, so as to be invisible — my beloved told me that that was far more distracting than if I just moved with dignity and grace. So now if I must cross the chancel to adjust a mic for a young reader, or to provide something for the organist in the middle of a hymn, I do it without fanfare and without a physical apology.