On Wednesday, I went to the midweek Eucharist service at St. Bart’s Episcopal. It was a short, simple, and meaningful 30 minute service. Guided by the Book of Common Prayer, we stood up, knelt, read scripture, and prayed together. As the one non-Episcopalian in the room, I was always a beat behind but not in a way that made me feel embarrassed.
One of the aspects of these rituals that I appreciate is that it does not allow those in the pews to be passive observers to the service. We do not just hear someone offer up prayers from a pulpit, but we all kneel in prayer. We do not simply listen to someone speak of God’s grace, but we say words of confession and then are reminded that God forgives us. The liturgy of the service was a literal work of the people.
I am a bit of a worship omnivore. I love the use of creative arts and spontaneity in church. Indeed, I often miss the high energy of bands leading in worship that I experienced for so many years serving at summer camps. But I also feel a deep connection to these ancient practices of reading and kneeling together. It allows me to jump into the river current of the church and be moved with those around me. There is something in those rituals that can resonate deeply.
I have been thinking about ritual and how it impacts people in communities of belief. On a whim (it was a 50% off hardback books sale at Barnes & Noble), I picked up Ritual: How Seemingly Senseless Acts Make Life Worth Living by Dimitris Xylagatas. It is one of the most thought-provoking books that I have read in some time. The author is an anthropologist and approaches the topic from that scientific vantage point.
Xylagatas is not concerned with the idea of whether there is a supernatural component to the religious rituals that he has studied throughout the world. He looks at the actual measurable effects of these practices. It is fascinating to read about how there is a synchronicity in heart rate when close family and friends see a loved one participate in a fire walking tradition in Spain. Or a study that shows how those who participate in the grueling, pain-inflicting pilgrimage of Thaipusam in Mauritius are more likely to be more generous in their giving.
What causes someone to pierce their cheeks, carry a cart up a mountain in the brutal hot sun, and come out of the experience more joyful? Why does faith beat so strongly in the hearts of some while it is of so little concern to others; even with people who attend church regularly? One of the struggles I experience as a youth minister is that spiritual formation is kind of a side dish for some (certainly not all) people. It’s great if their kid likes it, but it is not foundational. In some cases, it is secondary to school, sports, or virtually anything tangible that will look good on a college application.
This is not a new or local phenomenon. Religious faith has been on the wane in the Western world for some time now. And in a lot of ways, it’s easy to understand why. We’re not going to go into all of that right now. So Xylagatas’s book was interesting because it examines people who are true believers and thus engage in rituals that might be seen as extreme (and he points out that not all ritual is religious; though you could argue that whatever you give your heart over to is religious).
I didn’t arrive at any clear answers, but I do want to share a few quotes from late in the book on which I have continued to reflect.
CRED stands for ‘Credibility Enhancing Display,’ a term introduced by Harvard evolutionary anthropologist Joseph Henrich to explain how certain costly behaviors may function to raise the credibility of the beliefs or ideals they relate to. Before deciding to commit to a collective cause, we look for evidence that the cause is worthy by examining how committed to it other community members appear to be….Actions speak louder than words. (206-207)
This one is fairly straight-forward, especially for someone like me who works with an age group that is still figuring out what to make of belief. If they don’t actually see the worthwhileness of following Jesus within their community, they are going to be hesitant to commit to that faith.
Across various contexts we find that more costly things are also more valuable: you get what you pay for. An athlete who trains hard every day will probably perform better than someone who only trains once a week. A four-year degree will probably provide better skills than a two-year degree. Good things take effort. In fact, some of the most meaningful things in our lives are also among the toughest: winning a championship, defending our country or raising children. It therefore stands to reason that when something requires a lot of effort, it must also carry great significance. This rule of thumb is a useful heuristic, a mental tool that allows our brain to make inferences about the relative value of things. In fact, it is such a basic way of assessing the behaviours of other people that we inadvertently apply it to our own actions. (211)
This is an idea that I have been wrestling with since at least seminary. Very often in church, we do not want to make a lot of demands on people because they lead very demanding lives. Thus there is this temptation to make the life of faith as easy as possible so that we don’t scare them off altogether (again, the whole “faith as a side dish” thing). While this easy entry way theoretically makes it possible for more for people to join in, it can also have the effect of greatly devaluing faith. And if it is a community where they pop in and out every month or so, what exactly are they joining into?
If church is something that we encourage you to do when it is convenient or if pursuing justice is an optional add-on to the Christian life, then it more easily becomes something to put off to the side. The things that matter in life are things for which we have to make a sacrifice. So perhaps, with grace, we need to better emphasize how following Jesus is a transforming, investing-your-whole-life kind of thing. By the way, I say I have been wrestling with this idea. It is hard as crap to actually do this as a people-pleasing Enneagram 9.
Another anthropologist, Edward Evans-Pritchard, summarized it more succinctly by saying, ‘If one must act as though one believed, one ends in believing […] as one acts.’ Rituals do not merely reveal group affiliation - they actively create it. (212)
This is not to say that ritual for the sake of ritual is necessarily life-giving. But there is something to the axiom of “fake it til you make it.” There have been times when prayer or taking communion or other spiritual rituals have brought me more in alignment with my faith when I haven’t necessarily felt like it. Granted, I don’t think that comes out of nowhere. There is a fairly extensive foundation of faith that has been laid in my life by God and others. But again, it is like that current of faith that I experienced at St. Bart’s on Wednesday.
The idea that acting as if you believe leads to believing as you act is powerful. It speaks to the importance of making sure that faith is not a spectator sport, but something that we participate in by worshiping, praying, confessing, being in community, loving our neighbors, and so much more.