Category: Worship

Wanted: A Congregation, Part 4l: Is That Moment of Silence Possible?

by Ronald R Johnson

From Lloyd C. Douglas, “Wanted—A Congregation, Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship,” in The Christian Century, 9/2/1920.

[The following is from the fourth installment in Lloyd Douglas’s series, “Wanted—A Congregation!” in the summer and fall of 1920. This installment, dated 9/2/1920, is titled, “Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship.” The series is about the Reverend D. Preston Blue, who is on a campaign to enlarge his congregation. This episode takes place after he has begun to succeed in building his audience. Douglas explains why it is necessary for latecomers not to be admitted during the ritualistic part of the service.]

“It is entirely unnecessary that there should be a steady tramp, tramp, tramp down the aisles during this impressive moment. The public does not value Christianity the more highly for being permitted to treat a church service with less respect than it is obliged to manifest in a playhouse. Therein lies one of the chief difficulties with the Protestant churches of America. They have consistently believed and practiced a series of logical fallacies with reference to the public mind.

“They have lacked the wisdom to understand that people are not especially attracted to any institution which they are permitted to treat disrespectfully. Not infrequently during the organ prelude, ‘dear old Brother Smithers’ snuggles up beside ‘dear old Major Welickedem’ and chatters audibly, to the annoyance of everybody within a range of fifty yards. Where else but in a Protestant church would such an absolutely unnecessary disturbance be tolerated? Not in the theater, surely. Nor at a concert. And why must the church put up with such annoyances? Oh, because it has consistently permitted almost any sort of a nuisance to nullify whatever opportunities were presented for an orderly, inspirational service of worship! But – someone exclaims – what is one to do? One must go to dear old Brother Smithers and tell him to cut it out. It can be said gently, tactfully, purringly – but it should be said. If the dear old fellow becomes incensed and withdraws to some other church, it will be a great deal better for his own soul than if he stayed where he was and habitually made a nuisance of himself. For, in church Number Two, he will not talk during the service, remembering what had happened at Number One.

“There must be no crying babies, shrieking all through the otherwise impressive moments of the service! Nowhere else but in a Protestant church would such an annoyance be permitted for a moment! What shall we do? We must tell the young mother that she is to be excused from her church duties until her baby is old enough to be placed in the church kindergarten where all small children are to be during the church service.

“You wonder why some of the finest, most earnest, most philanthropic people in your town are not in church on Sundays? Provide a service that appeals to the heart and is uninterrupted by petty annoyances which destroy every possibility for a reverential worship, and let it be known that you mean to have such a service every Sunday – and you may notice a change!

“No, sir; when the time comes in the service where silence is the order, close the doors, shut off the tramp of the tardy and the chatter of the thoughtless, and have silence!

“If some belated brother and his wife become offended because they are obliged to wait a few minutes in the vestibule, that is sufficient proof that the church, with its old way of doing things, hasn’t done very much for their souls, and it is high time something was tried! And if they get so angry they resolve never to come back, and go away and tell it all over the lot that they went to their dear old church, where their dear old fathers and mothers had been wont to come straggling down the aisle almost any time between ten-forty-three and eleven-thirty-five, and, bless you, weren’t permitted to go to their own seat just because their fool preacher had suddenly developed a crazy notion that the doors were to be closed through the opening service – well – what of that? Is that going to put the church out of business? Indeed, it is the very choicest advertising. No church would be able to purchase or devise a finer publicity medium than about half a dozen loquacious ex-members who had gone forth to spread the report that their church had gone in for a strict practice of reverence. Such a campaign is sure to bring out a select lot of splendid souls who will come next Sunday to see if, perchance, there is that something in your service for which they had sought, eagerly and in vain.”

[In my next post, I’ll tell you about Douglas’s fifth and final article in the series, “Wanted – A Congregation.”]

Wanted: A Congregation, Part 4k: A Consistent Ritual

by Ronald R Johnson

From Lloyd C. Douglas, “Wanted—A Congregation, Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship,” in The Christian Century, 9/2/1920.

[The following is from the fourth installment in Lloyd Douglas’s series, “Wanted—A Congregation!” in the summer and fall of 1920. This installment, dated 9/2/1920, is titled, “Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship.” The series is about the Reverend D. Preston Blue, who is on a campaign to enlarge his congregation. This episode takes place after he has begun to succeed in building his audience. He is explaining to his wife how he intends to improve the order of worship.]

“‘Now,’ said Blue, ‘the ritualistic service of worship begins. I don’t believe that we had better fumble around in the back of the book anymore for a responsive reading. We’ll print it in the bulletin, and let it make up in power whatever it lacks in former length. Anyway, these ‘readings’ in the back of the book weren’t built correctly. Most of them are too long, and too full of local color about the Jews.’

“The preacher smiled as he repeated a few of these passages for the edification of his wife. ‘What good does it do a crowd of able-bodied citizens of the United States in 1920 to stand up and read together about brotherhood being “like the precious oil upon the head; like the dew of Hermon,” or that purely parochial remark of an ancient people, “Before Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manasseh, stir up thy might.” And what possible benefit can accrue to anybody by reading aloud so misleading a passage as, “For we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled”? And so many of them have a curious trick of ending on an awkward phrase like, “Yes, the work of our hands, establish Thou it” – leaving one with the uncomfortable feeling of having come off and forgotten something, until the next event of the service mercifully blots the dissonance out of mind. No; we will not go to the back of the hymnal anymore – at least not until we can do so with better effect than is now in sight.

“‘After that first hymn, there is going to be a moment of silence – an impressive silence! The auditorium doors will be closed. The ushers will seat no more latecomers until the ritualistic service is concluded. The service isn’t operated for the sole purpose of accommodating the tardy anyway. If they will come late, they can do exactly as at the orchestral concert or the theater – wait until there is an intermission.’

Wanted: A Congregation, Part 4j: Encouraging Meditation

by Ronald R Johnson

From Lloyd C. Douglas, “Wanted—A Congregation, Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship,” in The Christian Century, 9/2/1920.

[The following is from the fourth installment in Lloyd Douglas’s series, “Wanted—A Congregation!” in the summer and fall of 1920. This installment, dated 9/2/1920, is titled, “Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship.” The series is about the Reverend D. Preston Blue, who is on a campaign to enlarge his congregation. This episode takes place after he has begun to succeed in building his audience. He is telling his wife about his plans for improving the order of worship…]

“‘That organ prelude,’ soliloquized Blue, ‘ought to begin quietly. People come in from the racket of traffic on the street. They should be given some incentive to calm their spirits and meditate without being overwhelmed and distracted with a thunderous noise. It should be understood by the ushers that the seating of the people should be done with a minimum of confusion. From the moment the prospective worshipper steps inside the door, he should be impressed with the fact that this is the House of God. He should be given a chance to think, to pray, to sense the divine Presence. Therefore, the organ prelude, which helps him to that mood, must not be a big ‘show piece,’ but rather an impassioned tug at the heart-strings. And then it should grow, almost imperceptibly, at its close, until it seems to be building up toward some definite action. The people must be filled with a desire to express themselves.

“‘Without a pause,’ continued Blue, thinking aloud, ‘the organist will modulate into the score of the opening hymn. Just think of the thrill of it, my dear,’ exclaimed the minister – ‘the organ piling harmony upon harmony, higher, richer, fuller, until, in one great, triumphant chord, it peals out the majestic measures of ‘O God, the Rock of Ages!’ – and the choir comes to its feet – and the congregation rises, not hesitatingly, by squads, but spontaneously, immediately, because it can’t sit still another moment – and then they will sing! Fine – isn’t it?’

“Blue remembers a wonderful service he had attended, in which the organist had begun with an impassioned prelude, rising to a martial mood, and, because the minister was going to preach on a patriotic theme, brought the congregation to a stand with the strains of ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ – after which he swept his choir and the audience into the first verse of ‘Lead On, O King Eternal,’ which happened to be in the same key and therefore required no introduction at all. True, the congregation didn’t know for a moment what was afoot, but it was not long in finding out, and the genuine thrill it experienced shattered every vestige of indifference and tuned the heart for a thorough appreciation of that great militant hymn.”

[Douglas’s story will continue in my next post…]

Wanted: A Congregation, Part 4i: Renewing the Batteries

by Ronald R Johnson

From Lloyd C. Douglas, “Wanted—A Congregation, Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship,” in The Christian Century, 9/2/1920.

[The following is from the fourth installment in Lloyd Douglas’s series, “Wanted—A Congregation!” in the summer and fall of 1920. This installment, dated 9/2/1920, is titled, “Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship.” The series is about the Reverend D. Preston Blue, who is on a campaign to enlarge his congregation. This episode takes place after he has begun to succeed in building his audience. While he and his wife are on vacation, he takes a critical look at his “order of worship” and finds it wanting…]

“Needless to say, explanations followed which made it possible for the minister’s wife to share her husband’s musings. She encouraged him to tell her of his plans for a better order of worship, and he begged her to help him with suggestions. They discussed this matter far into the night.

“‘First of all,’ said Blue after he had explained his dilemma, ‘I must establish closer cooperation with my choir. It is a good choir. And Fred Young is a capable organist and director. I mean to talk this all through with him when we get back. And then I shall go over it with the choir. They will see the significance of this matter, and will be glad to do their part.’

“‘Well,’ said Mrs. Blue, with a woman’s inclination to repair, ‘let us begin at the beginning, and see how much of the service is to be mended, and how much must be brand new. First, there is the opening hymn – ‘

“‘No,’ said Blue, ‘first is the organ prelude, which Broad Street Church uses to drown whispered conversations in the pews. We will put a notice in the bulletin that the organ prelude is a part of the service of worship. Perhaps, if Young is given to understand that the people are listening to his organ number, he may put a little more into it.’ There was a silence of several minutes during which the minister remembered dismally that this inattentiveness of the audience to the organ prelude might easily be accounted for on the ground of his own attitude toward it, for had he not customarily spent the whole of it fussing over his holy properties – locating his Bible lesson, and reading in the hymnal and the opening hymn, and toying with his sermon notes, and leafing through the bulky sheaf of announcements with which he would later drug his congregation almost into insensibility, and otherwise busying himself in a manner denoting his absolute indifference to the organ number?

“Why couldn’t he step into his pulpit Saturday evening and attend to all these little errands, seeing they were so important? Perhaps it would do no harm, anyway, to go into his pulpit on Saturday evening and, having arranged his books and papers, stand for a moment in that silent, dimly-lit place, and invoke God’s blessing on his next day’s work. Indeed, he thought, if there was a convenient way to do it, he would like to spend Saturday night in the church.

“Ah, but it was a wise old cult that required its officiating priests to sleep in the temple on the night preceding the major service of the week. Many an otherwise excellent sermon has had the breath of life clattered out of it by the rattle of breakfast dishes, the crying of babies, and general confusion at the parsonage on Sunday morning. Blue decides that henceforth he will get up at five on Sundays, prepare his own breakfast, and hie himself to the little den in the attic where nothing short of serious illness or a fire would be permitted to disturb him until time to go to church. He owes that much to his work.”

[Douglas’s story will continue in my next post…]

Wanted: A Congregation, Part 4h: Psychological Considerations

by Ronald R Johnson

From Lloyd C. Douglas, “Wanted—A Congregation, Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship,” in The Christian Century, 9/2/1920.

[The following is from the fourth installment in Lloyd Douglas’s series, “Wanted—A Congregation!” in the summer and fall of 1920. This installment, dated 9/2/1920, is titled, “Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship.” The series is about the Reverend D. Preston Blue, who is on a campaign to enlarge his congregation. This episode takes place after he has begun to succeed in building his audience. He is taking a critical look at his order of worship and finding many things he doesn’t like, especially his tendency to announce the hymn over and over again, even though it’s listed in the bulletin…]

“Then there would ensue an awkward pause, during which the organist was guessing whether Brother Blue had said everything that was in his mind at that moment. Having finally determined that the preacher had said it all, the organ would pipe out a puny little combination of ‘solicional’ and ‘violin diapason’ wherewith to introduce the hymn, playing the entire score of it in this feeble manner until, by the time the congregation was actually turned loose to sing, it didn’t want to. There is a peculiar psychology back of this. When the minister has begged the congregation to sing, the man in the pew is reluctant to make the adventure. He fears his neighbor may think that he is going to cut loose and show these people that he, for one, is some singer. Again, when the organ introduces the hymn with a frail little prelude, everybody is afraid to begin, for fear there will be no support.

“But, just now, the thing that filled D. Preston Blue’s mind with misgivings was the thought that he had been talking too much during his ‘service of worship.’ When he had come to the point of announcing the responsive reading of the psalm, he always said something like this: ‘Shall we not now turn to selection one hundred and six, in the back of the hymnal, page one hundred and twenty, and read responsively?’ Then came another of those blighting delays, while people hunted for the page. Blue was conscious of the awkwardness of such moments, and his only remedy for them was to fill them up with talk – mere superfluous chatter. He would keep on repeating, dully, while they searched, ‘Selection one hundred and six – on the one hundred and twentieth page – in the back of the hymnal.’ Oh, how could he have been so exasperatingly stupid? Every time there arose the merest ghost of a chance for the congregation to have a little of blessed silence, here was Blue chattering like a magpie!

“Thus did he review, with burning cheeks, the specific defects in that cold and pulseless ‘order of service,’ searching for the cause of its failure; when, suddenly, the real secret of its hopelessness and dullness stood out, clear-cut as a cameo, and he shouted to Mrs. Blue, ‘I’ve got it! I know what ails Broad Street Church! She’s a-been gettin’ too much gas and not enough spark!'”

[Douglas’s story will continue in my next post…]

Wanted: A Congregation, 4g: “You’ve A-Flooded ‘Er!”

by Ronald R Johnson

From Lloyd C. Douglas, “Wanted—A Congregation, Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship,” in The Christian Century, 9/2/1920.

[The following is from the fourth installment in Lloyd Douglas’s series, “Wanted—A Congregation!” in the summer and fall of 1920. This installment, dated 9/2/1920, is titled, “Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship.” The series is about the Reverend D. Preston Blue, who is on a campaign to enlarge his congregation. This episode takes place after he has begun to succeed in building his audience. While on vacation, he is painfully analyzing his typical worship service and seeing its faults.]

“Whatever pauses occurred in the service were not eloquent silences, portentous with meaning; they were only awkward delays which the congregation availed itself of as a suitable time to cough in concert, and thumb the hymnal, and wonder whether there’s enough in the tank to run to Blinkton this afternoon or had we better fill it before we start, and to speculate on whether her hat, the forecastle of which shuts off the view, was last season’s rosette upsidedown, or the 1918 model turned wrongsideout.

“Considered as a whole, the service lacked life. It was cloddish, sluggish, heavy; a worse burden than Solomon’s grasshopper. Moreover, as Blue invoiced the thing seriatim, he became conscious that most of its inspirational possibilities had been annulled through his own habit of getting in the way of every potential emotional thrill by the utterance of stupid commonplace. For example: he invariably insisted upon announcing the opening hymn with which the service began. True, it was printed on the bulletin in every member’s hand that the first hymn would be No. 145 – printed so plainly that the wayfaring man needed only to glance at it for the required directions. But Blue always announced it anyway. He would say, ‘Shall we not -‘ (Oh ‘shall we not?’ indeed! Out on all these wobbly-kneed shall-we-notters! What wretched psychology! The old prophets used to say, ‘Hear ye, O Israel!’ That was better!) Well – Blue would say, ‘Shall we not open our service of worship this morning by singing that grand old hymn of the church, number one hundred and forty-five, ‘O God, the Rock of Ages,’ to the tune of ‘Miriam’ which you will find on the left-hand page, the full text being on the right-hand page, however. Let us all join heartily in the singing of this hymn, the one hundred and forty-fifth.'”

[Douglas will explain why he thinks this is bad psychology in my next post…]

Wanted: A Congregation, Part 4f: Ashes on the Altar

by Ronald R Johnson

From Lloyd C. Douglas, “Wanted—A Congregation, Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship,” in The Christian Century, 9/2/1920.

[The following is from the fourth installment in Lloyd Douglas’s series, “Wanted—A Congregation!” in the summer and fall of 1920. This installment, dated 9/2/1920, is titled, “Fourth Phase—The Service of Worship.” The series is about the Reverend D. Preston Blue, who is on a campaign to enlarge his congregation. This episode takes place after he has begun to succeed in building his audience. He and his wife are on vacation and he is taking stock of the recent improvements.]

“These self-searching queries had been giving our friend some painful hours tonight. He had become shamefully stricken with remorse – the kind that sends a dull ache into the throat and a stinging pain into the eyes. As Blue reviewed the so-called ‘service of worship’ customarily rendered in Broad Street Church, it galled him to reflect upon those cold, gray ashes that stood for an altar fire. It humiliated him to remember how lifeless, how perfunctory the thing really was – so exceedingly dull that even he himself thought of it, when and if he thought of it, as a mere something-necessarily-to-be-gone-through preliminary to the main event of the hour – his sermon! Why, some of his members had frankly accounted for their habitual tardiness at the Sunday morning service with the bland explanation, ‘Oh, all that we care for is the sermon anyway!’ – and Blue had been so short of sight as to feel complimented!

“Torn now with remorse, the preacher resolved to analyze that profitless, cold, and all but sacrilegious ‘order of worship’ – a piece of mummery that had become so trite and feeble that even he was heartily glad when the last wearisome yawn of it had been dutifully recited, and the book chucked back in the rack. Blue was under contract with his own soul to mend matters at that point, without further delay! This was the burden of his thoughts tonight. It was a very, very serious problem. It was not much wonder he didn’t hear the turtles, or see the moon, or chat with Mrs. Blue! He was under conviction of a blunder that was considerably more serious than a mere misdemeanor. He had failed at a vital point! So – he took up that ‘order of worship’ item by item and looked at it.

“In the first place, it was a service absolutely devoid of thrills! (I daresay such use of the word ‘thrills’ will entitle the writer to some more piously-phrased, albeit unsigned, communications from his brethren, warning him to flee the wrath to come.) Well – anyhow – whate’er the future may have in store for him who boswells* for D. Preston Blue, it was a service devoid of thrills! There wasn’t a single feature of it calculated to quicken a man’s respiration or grip his throat or stir his pulse. What little of solemn ritual there was in it possessed no current – just lazily ambled along on a level like the sleepy Yangtse-kiang for five hundred miles without a ripple. It reached no high spots; led up to no climaxes; pointed to no definite goal; and, having no destination in mind, it failed to arrive anywhere.”

(*”boswells” is a verb referring to Douglas’s role as narrator of Blue’s story, just as James Boswell famously narrated the story of Samuel Johnson.)

[Douglas’s article will continue in my next post…]

Rubber City

by Ronald R Johnson (www.ronaldrjohnson.com)

When Lloyd Douglas began his ministry at the First Congregational Church of Akron in the fall of 1921, he viewed it as a chance to share all that he had learned during his time at the University of Illinois and the University of Michigan. As he explained later, “I came to you from an experience of about ten years, spent upon the campuses of two great universities, where I daily faced the new problem of a readjustment in religious thought, to make it consonant with the more recent disclosures of the philosophical and scientific world” (Lloyd C Douglas, “Five Years of Akron,” in The Living Faith (Boston: Houghton-Mifflin/Riverside Press, 1955), p. 80.)

During those years, he had been in university towns, but now he was in a city – “Rubber City,” they called it, due to the predominance of the big tire companies like Goodyear and Firestone – and he was putting his ideas into practice out in the world.

If this was ever used as an advertisement in the local paper or as a pamphlet, I’ve been unable to find a clipping of it. But this photograph is pasted into the last page of Douglas’s 1920-1923 scrapbook. The First Congregational Church of Akron is in the upper right corner of the picture. From Box 5, Lloyd C Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan.

The first thing he focused on was worship. Not preaching, but worship.

In his inaugural sermon at the First Congregational Church of Akron on September 18, 1921, Douglas said, “The church is failing in America because it has failed to carry out its true mission…. The church may do philanthropic and social work, but its first duty is to be a house of worship, and when it fails in this it cannot expect the veneration to which it should be entitled” (“SCORES CHURCH/New Akron Pastor Flays Modern Worship,” Akron Press, n.d., 1920-1923 Scrapbook, Box 5, Lloyd C Douglas Papers, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan).

Over the past several years, Douglas had already established an order of worship that the people in Ann Arbor said was “probably unsurpassed elsewhere.” (This was from a resolution the congregation’s leaders drew up in 1921, accepting his resignation and thanking him for his ministry. Quoted on p. 63 of Calvin O. Davis, A History of the Congregational Church in Ann Arbor, 1847-1947, which was reprinted in A History of the First Congregational Church in Ann Arbor, 1847-1976 (Ann Arbor: First Congregational Church, n. d. [1976?]).

His services were heavily dependent on music. It was a source of great irritation to him that people would talk over the organ prelude. As he told his new congregation, “During the organ prelude in a church recently I learned the recipe for plum jelly, that a certain oil stock was a good buy, that there was to be a bargain sale at a local department store, and that the road to another city was in bad shape on account of the concrete cracking” (from “SCORES CHURCH” cited above).

He thought the church auditorium should be a true sanctuary where people would leave their worldly cares at the door and come into the presence of The Great Mystery. “The LORD is in His Holy Temple,” begins the Order of Worship from his first Sunday in Akron; “let all the earth keep silence before Him.” In Ann Arbor, Douglas had enforced that: ushers were to close the doors as soon as the organ prelude began and not open them again until later in the service. He was so adamant about this that it ruffled a few of his parishioners’ feathers, but he was striving to make the church a place where people could actually come with the expectation of meeting God.

The prelude should begin softly, Douglas felt, to counteract the rat-a-tat-tat of machinery that had assaulted worshipers’ ears for the past six days. It should calm the soul and prepare it for communion with the divine. Then, through subtle use of dynamics and ascending chords, it should end triumphantly in the exact key of the opening hymn and launch into that hymn immediately, so that worshipers would rise and sing without being prompted. Douglas hated how the typical Protestant minister could spoil the whole thing by announcing, “Beloved, shall we not rise and sing Hymn 321? That’s 321, and you’ll find it in the hymnal on the pew in front of you. Hymn 321.”

As Douglas said to an audience of fellow ministers and lay-workers:

Many a sensitive man would greatly prefer to take a book of essays with him to a shady bend in the river on Sunday morning than attend our church; whereas his whole soul cries out for a much closer contact with the divine than he can achieve by his communion with nature. But – it is a great deal better for that man’s spiritual welfare that he should go out Sunday morning and watch the river than to go to some church where the music is so ugly it positively frightens [him] and the preacher talks to the Great Unseen as if he were chaffing with his next-door neighbor over the back fence.

Lloyd C Douglas, “Making Worship Worshipful,” Christian Century, September 9, 1920, pp. 14-17.

What Douglas was trying to achieve can best be understood through his description of the exact opposite:

There wasn’t a single feature of that ‘service of worship’ calculated to quicken a man’s respiration, or grip his throat, or stir his pulse! What little of solemn ritual there was in it possessed no current, no rapids, no eddies, no sudden unexpected plunges over huge ledges into unfathomably deep pools, no sharp turns revealing startlingly beautiful vistas ahead – no! – but just ambled lazily along on a level like the sleepy Yanktse Kiang, for five hundred miles without a ripple. It reached no dramatic climaxes; pointed to no definite goal; never poured its flood into the deep sea. It spread out over the sands, and disappeared.

Lloyd C Douglas, Wanted: A Congregation (Chicago: Christian Century Press, 1920), p. 195.

At the movies, Douglas said – and he was talking about silent movies, remember, for this was 1921 – at the movies “there were certain tense moments when people stopped breathing and sat transfixed,” but at church…

…where the issue involved was the attempted establishment of actual, vital relationship with the Absolute – the invocation of His Presence at whose word light had dispelled the darkness, by whose divine fiat the worlds had appeared in space, by whose supernal genius His creatures had been endowed with a consciousness of their own immortality – this solemn and mysterious function was performed drowsily, calmly, with an air of tedium, boredom, and distaste.

Ibid., pp. 194-195.

Lloyd Douglas was the new minister in Rubber City. His first order of business was to stir people’s pulses… and invite them out into the deep sea.

To be continued…

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