The Exit Sign

            It happens every now and then in worship.   A piece of music, a prayerful phrase, it could be the printed liturgy or an ancient creed.   Something will come along and touch my heart in that deep place I keep hidden behind my professional persona.  Preachers are supposed to cry only on cue, for affect, to manipulate emotions; at least that is what I hear they teach at Televangelist school (just kidding!).  

             My sense of responsibility to my role as worship leader is acute.  Worship is not about me it’s about the One whom we worship.  I avoid making my emotions the center of attention. My job is to point to the reality of God not to run my personal agendas. 

            Of course this is an artificial separation. 

            Once in seminary, full of righteous bravado, I bragged that my faith in God came before all else in my life, including my family, my church and Bonnie my wife.  With more wisdom than I had displayed, Bonnie waited until we were alone to ask me pointedly about the comment.  "And where do you think God is? If not in our marriage where can God be found?"!  I've never forgotten the lesson or its truth.

            Of course, God is present and active in my life and "my personal agenda".  Certainly alive in our marriage!   Thus if and when appropriate the sharing of emotion could, in fact, be a powerful moment of worship...if it points to the reality of God in my life.

            As an introvert I do not come quickly to emotions.  I have also had to learn to deal with empathy.  Formed in my earliest years, I am very sensitive to the feelings and needs of others, sometimes too much so.  Goes with the territory for most "helping professionals".   We are the "wounded healers" after all (Nouwen).  

            I wouldn't say I avoid emotion while leading worship but I am cautious. A fact that carries over to most parts of my life.

            This Easter Sunday I was unprepared for my emotional response.  Leading the 8:00am service, I stood with the congregation as the lay reader asked us to sing the good, old standard "Christ the Lord is Risen Today!".   As I popped up from behind the pulpit the first stanza was like a strong wind, it almost blew me back; "...Ha-lle-lu-jah!"

            I made a commitment to the ordained ministry when I was 18 years old.  I was ordained in 1976.   I have lead worship under the appointment of a Bishop since 1979.  I have sung "Christ the Lord is Risen Today!" hundreds of times.  And yet this time, it opened my heart like a can of Pringles.

            My guess would be that only another preacher can truly understand what a privilege it is to lead a worship service, especially on an Easter morning.  I am as frail and failed, as gifted and worthy as anyone else there yet, by the Grace of God I have been called to lead.   We get to study, teach and articulate the hopes and fears of all the years.  We get to receive the unwarranted adoration and twisted projections of those we are called to serve.   We get to spend our measure of time and talent falling in love with those whom we will bless, marry and bury.   Some will love us in return; some will lie to our faces and can't wait to get to the church parking lots to curse our existence.

            It’s the greatest job in the world!

            The mistake I made on Easter wasn't to get all choked up over the hymn but to begin looking at the faces of the people.   Mr. Smith is going through a divorce.  Mrs. Jones was just diagnosed with cancer.   Billie Jean is pregnant and doesn't know how it happened or the father.    John will enter Hospice care on Monday, it will be his last Easter.

            If I stop my "professional responsibilities" as worship leader and actually begin to remember and feel what it is that the people gathered are going through, for me it is almost overwhelming.   I would stop dead in my tracks. I wouldn't be able to function. I would either sob uncontrollably or walk out of the service.  At least that is my fantasy.  And on this Easter, I was weeping, sniffling and could hardly breathe. 

            When this happens, and it has happened many times in all of the churches I have served, I find the Exit Sign at the back of the church.    Thank God for County and State building codes that require Exit Signs at the back of churches!   I focus on the Exit Sign.  Speak to it.  Look only at it.    And finally I can settle down and tuck my feelings back inside.

            Is my use of the Exit Sign strategy emotional cowardice, a sophisticated disassociation or a savvy technique born out of self-knowledge?  

           Yes.

            I do know this.   My personal emotions did not distract from what was a wonderful worship experience for hundreds of people.   Out of those hundreds of people a handful will come back and find a church home; some will make personal decisions affecting their lives in positive ways; one or two will actually end up making a significant positive difference in their communities as a result.  

            Most will mark the Easter service as a lovely concert and lecture that wasn't too difficult to endure before the brunch and "it made Mom happy for us all to be there!"

            For this preacher, it was a powerful reminder...a celebration really... of the on-going miracle of God in my life.  And for some there, they actually noticed me pointing to the God in theirs.

Eulogy Etiquette

What do we say when asked to speak at a loved one's funeral or memorial service? 

It happens every now and then, that in the death of a friend or family member we are asked to speak on their behalf during the service to mark their passing.  This can be a great honor, an opportunity to give comfort to the bereaved and a chance to lift up the best qualities of someone we really cared about.

Or such a request can be perceived as an overwhelming moment of vulnerability and pain.   In the middle of our own grief, we are asked to endure a public speaking moment which, for most, is uncomfortable and for many, terrifying.

Think long and hard about saying 'yes' to such a request.   If it would take away from your own grieving experience and the significant moment of community support and celebration of life that funerals and memorials services can bring…don't do it.  This is especially true for the spouses and children of the dead.  It is not written anywhere that you have to speak at your loved one's funeral.  There are no rules requiring such a moment.  If you feel compelled to greet and thank all those gathered, or share your thoughts about your loved one, write it out and have someone else read your words during the service.   If the thought and pressure of speaking at that moment fills you with dread, be gentle with yourself, you are already going through enough having lost one of the most important people in your life.

If it does feel right for you to speak at a loved one's service here are some suggestions that might help from one who is in this situation with some regularity.

-Giving an effective eulogy doesn't require a PhD or toastmasters training.  It is your life experience and generous heart that qualifies you to speak in such a moment.  As you begin your remarks, don't spend anytime apologizing for your lack of public speaking experience.

-Speak more about the deceased than yourself.  It's easy to get lost in your own reflections at such a moment but it’s about them, not about you.   Focus on the deceased's history, character and beliefs, not your own.   The general rule is with the use of the first-person pronoun.   If "I"' is used more than the name of the deceased, you've forgotten why you are there!

-Emotion is absolutely ok to share.  If you find yourself overwhelmed at any moment, don't hesitate to stop, take a drink of water, blow your nose, whatever it takes to breathe and calm down.  Everyone there is pulling for you and probably sharing those same feelings.  Laughter, tears and even anger if it is genuine and points to the loss of your friend/family member is absolutely appropriate.   But never if it is meant to illustrate your eloquence.

-Don't say anything about your friend/family member that you wouldn't say if he/she were standing by your side.  A eulogy is not the time tell the person's secrets.

-Remember this variation of the KISS Principle; "Keep It Simple and Short"   The significance of a life will never be summed up in such a moment.  We can only point to it.  In the reception or days that follow such a service, friends and family will continue the sharing of memories and stories.  It doesn't all have to be said in your allotted time.  No one remembers a word of Edward Everett's two hour speech at Gettysburg in 1863 and no one will ever forget President Abraham Lincoln's Address that followed and lasted only two minutes.

At the time of the death of a significant person in our lives we need a chance to say 'good-bye'.   To do so in the company of family and friends can be a powerful experience of healing and hope.   Whether that happens at a religious site, a public hall, in a park or at the beach doesn't matter so much as the sincere good will we bring to that moment.

For those asked to speak on behalf of the dead and choose to do so, we are given an opportunity to share a profound moment of love.   It is an honor to be sure and it can be a blessing for our own journey of grief.