Category Archives for The Liturgy

Review: Todd Hunter’s Giving Church Another Chance

Todd Hunter’s Giving Church Another Chance is an interesting—and perhaps brilliant—little book. I am sure that this is not everything that Todd Hunter could say on the subjects of church, liturgy and life, but he says just enough to make you want more, which I believe is precisely the point.

Todd has a gift of being able to “reimage” things so that we see them in a different way. In this book, he has taken the elements of the Anglican liturgy and presents them not as merely a way to worship on Sunday mornings, but as a rhythm by which to live our lives. Without being overly critical of the Vineyard or other evangelical styles of worship, he nevertheless shows us that there are elements missing—not just from Sunday mornings, but from the way we live throughout the week.

He discusses, for example, how we have become addicted to noise and excitement to the point that we don’t even allow time for quiet in our corporate worship; rather than Sunday morning worship setting the pattern for our week, we have let how we live set the pattern for our worship. Todd simply suggests that we “repractice” church, learning once again the value of contemplation, Bible reading, giving, and so on. Furthermore, just as Israel had been intended to be the means to bless all mankind, this is now our calling, to be the Church for the sake of others.

Even those of us from liturgical backgrounds will be challenged by this book to take a step back and reevaluate our attitudes toward church, worship, and life.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Todd Hunter to read and post a review on my site. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s16 CFR, Part 255 “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

To Creed or not to Creed?

Again, the Internet Monk has an interesting post in his series on “Evangelical Liturgy,” this time on the use (or non-use) of the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds.   It has never occurred to me that any church would not subscribe to either of these creeds- in fact, I would have said that any church that didn’t hold to the creeds was heterodox.  For that matter, I probably would still say this.  Of course, not officially holding to the creeds doesn’t mean they don’t believe in them, but still…

I guess that just goes to show once again that I am obviously not – and never have been – an evangelical in the popular sense (Luther first used the word to refer to his theology).

Evangelical Liturgy

I hate to post too much from Michael Spencer, but lately he’s had a lot of good things to say. He recently has begun a series looking at various forms of liturgy in use in churches we normally think of as non-liturgical.  From #8 in the series:

In many evangelical churches, particularly those of a more contemporary flavor, public reading of the Bible is avoided. Scripture will be scattered across a few song lyrics and inserted as point prompts or proof texts in the sermon. There will be no scripture lessons, no reading of scripture outside of the use of scripture in some function of the service and no sense that extended scripture reading is a high and worthy use of time in worship.

Ironically, it will be the liturgical church and its scripture saturated service that will be called “liberal” by the Bible-waving, but not Bible reading evangelical church. Declarations of confidence in the Bible as the inerrant Word of God will dwell in puzzling juxtaposition with worship services where the most scripture encountered is in popcorned bits projected between film clips and other visuals.

It’s a point I have made here more than once.  Those who claim they have the highest view of scripture (innerancy) certainly don’t act like it’s holy, and often the pastor plays fast and loose with his use of it.

Spencer’s goal, however, is to take a positive (or at least neutral) look at the various elements that can make up a standard evangelical worship service, which should prove interesting.  You can see the into to the series here.

I have discussed with my wife and a few others the relative value of including more liturgical elements in evangelical worship. While there are benefits, I do question whether adding form – even Scripture reading – bridges the gap between traditionally non-liturgical and liturgical churches, if there is no theological foundation for it.  It’s a question I haven’t answered yet.

A Tale of Two Churches

I went to two churches this morning, one at 9:00 and the other at 11.  One was a typical contemporary evangelical service, not unlike many others I’ve been to over the years. The other was the Episcopal church I’ve been attending for several months.  There was a vast difference in style, as one would expect. However, today I became aware of one distinction in particular which bears some reflection.

Church #1

First, I want to be clear that I am not saying church #1 is in any way a bad church, as evangelical churches go.  On the positive side, they really understand how to be welcoming.  We were very warmly greeted by people who seemed genuinely happy to see us (granted, one greeter was someone I happened to know).  Second, they started precisely at 9am.  They even had a TV screen in the lobby counting down the seconds until church started.  Even though most people were late, that didn’t stop the worship team.

Here’s the thing with church #1: The service, which was 90 minutes long, consisted of only two items, worship (that is, singing about 4 worship songs) and the sermon.  As far as the worship portion went, the band was very good (and loud), and the songs were for the most part well-chosen, including 2 contemporary versions of older hymns (including Amazing Grace, always a winner).  The pastor was a fair speaker, but talked way too long, and said virtually nothing that couldn’t have been said in under 10 minutes.  Then they did a quick offering during a reprise of one of the worship choruses.

Church #2

On the other hand, at St. Paul’s Episcopal we sang about the same number of hymns, not counting various liturgical choruses and a responsive chant of Psalm 111.  They read selections from the Old Testament, the Epistles, the Gospels, and of course the chanted Psalm.  There was a sermon – barely 10 minutes, but well thought-out and providing food for thought (a little pun… the text was John 6:51-58) on a very difficult text.

We also publicly confessed sin, received an affirmation of forgiveness, spent time in intercessory prayer, proclaimed our faith in reciting the Nicene Creed, corporately prayed the Lord’s Prayer, heard some amazing special music and celebrated the Lord’s Supper (Eucharist).

All that, in under one hour.

Food for thought

Again, I did not particularly dislike church #1.  But again, the contrast between my 2 church experiences this morning reveals something, I think, about evangelical Christianity.  I keep coming back to Marshall McLuhan’s concept “the medium is the message,” because I think it’s directly applicable to church. What we do – or not do – and how we do it reveal both our priorities and our beliefs.

It is easy to see in the Episcopal worship service what they believe and what they value: Scripture, worship of the Trinity, a commitment to the historic faith and the ever-present work of Christ as celebrated in the Eucharist.

In church #1, it was not so easy to discover what they believed. I presume – because I know the denomination – they are Trinitarians and believe in the authority of Scripture, but I wouldn’t know this from the service. It was evident that they valued contemporary music and a quality sound system, and that they valued the perspective of the pastor (the sermon took the majority of the service).  But, what does what is lacking in the service say about their beliefs and values?

I am not blaming church #1 for their rather featureless service; I believe they inherited a contemporary, anti-liturgical and anti-historical form and have taken it for granted. It possibly has not occurred to most of them that they leave the service with relatively little, and having done very little.  Fellowship, corporate singing and some teaching are, of course, not without value; the question is, is it enough?

A Lutheran perspective on North American Christianity

From a recent sermon (Lutheran):

… we need to recognize that the religious culture of North America is Evangelicalism.  This culture has its roots first in Puritanism, which is basically Calvinistic, and secondarily in the great revival movements of the late 18th and early 19th centuries.  Evangelicalism puts the emphasis on conversion as a personal decision and the church as a spiritual democracy.  Evangelicalism’s stress on the autonomy of the believer and the immediacy of spiritual experience apart from sacramental means has shaped a religious culture that accents an individualistic faith over churchly life and tends to characterize Baptism, Absolution, and the Lord’s Supper as peripheral to the Christian life.  This subjectivity, coupled with a suspicion of the intellect, has produced a religious culture that elevates heart over head, and emotion over intellect.  Wherever biblical authority is lost, Christ is displaced, and the Gospel is distorted, then our interests have displaced God’s, and we are doing His work in our own way.  The loss of the centrality of Christ in the life of today’s church in North America is becoming more and more common.  It is this loss that allows us to transform worship into entertainment, Gospel preaching into marketing, believing into technique, and living a sanctified life into feeling good about ourselves. God does not exist to satisfy human ambitions, cravings, the appetite for consumption, or our own private spiritual interests. [emphasis mine]

I wish I’d said that.  I often refer to Marshall McLuhan’s concept, “The medium is the message,” which I think is especially true of our expressions of Christianity. How we worship – what we do on Sunday mornings – speaks volumes about our values and beliefs, more so than we realize.  In many evangelical churches – and to be fair, a number of liturgical churches as well – Christ is not in the center of what is being done.  Sticking to the liturgical book masks this somewhat, but many liturgical churches have left the book for newer, trendier liturgies that are severely lacking.  I actually walked out of one such Lutheran service.  Seeker-sensitive or experientially-focused churches, however, have nothing historical to hide behind, so I think the message they convey in what they do is more obvious.

Is this being judgmental?  Yes, definitely.  But, as GK Chesterton said (my favorite quote), “Tolerance is the virtue of a man without convictions.“  Am I positive that I’m 100% correct in my judgments?  Not at all – however, I will believe what I believe until I have a better revelation of truth.  If you’ve got some, I’d certainly like to hear it.

Thanks to Dawn for the quote.

On attending church

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” – Luke 18:9-14

On my way to church this morning, I was contemplating my sinfulness, and contemplating how I seem to do this regularly as I drive to church.  It’s not intentional, I just can’t seem to avoid it.  It is an interesting phenomenon – by the time I’m half-way there (my drive is usually about 20 minutes), I have become aware of a number of my weaknesses, shortfalls, issues and, yes, sins.  I’m sure I’m not aware of all of them, but that would probably be too much for me to handle.

I’m not talking about dealing with guilt feelings; this is not a necessarily emotional experience.  No matter what state of mind I am in when I leave the house, by the time I arrive at the church, I am totally in touch with the fact that I am indeed a sinner, and that I depend wholly on grace.

Prior to the last few months, I don’t recall ever having this frame of mind while going to church.  In the past, if I thought about it at all, I went to church as a “saint saved by grace” rather than a “sinner saved by grace.”  I would walk in knowing everything was cool, I would groove to the worship, sit through the sermon, talk to friends and go home often not remembering what the sermon was about. In other words, I would leave as unaware as I went in, perhaps not that much unlike the Pharisee in the parable.

The Church as Creation of the Gospel

Over the last year or two, I have come to believe that the church does not exist as merely a gathering of the saints – a “King’s kids” family reunion, as it were.  The Church is truly created by the Gospel:  It is first and foremost a gathering of sinners -  those who are “being saved” (1 Cor. 1:18).  We are attracted not by the music or the preaching or the aesthetics of the building but as sinners we are attracted by the Gospel; for without the centrality of the Cross the rest is without substance.

Without an awareness of my need for grace, the proclamation by the Priest that

“Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you all your sins
through our Lord Jesus Christ, strengthen you in all
goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep you
in eternal life” (Book of Common Prayer)

or its equivalent would not have any meaning, and neither would the Eucharist (communion).

So, this was what I was thinking about as I drove to church this morning.  Whether my recent Sunday morning sin-awareness is a gift from God, an attack from Satan or perhaps due to the fact I am now knowledgeable about the liturgy, it serves the same purpose, to prepare me to worship.  Definitely counter-intuitive.

Today’s sermon

Perhaps not coincidentally, the sermon (based on 2 Samuel 11, the David & Bathsheba incident) was about sin and the Gospel; specifically, our need for a personal awareness of our sinfulness.  It was the first sermon I’ve taken notes on in years.  Here are some of the key quotes:

  • The Gospel is never about someone else; the Gospel is always about you (me). Yes, it’s about God, but what he meant was that a non-personal Gospel is no gospel at all.
  • David’s admission, “I have sinned before God” is full of hope, because it is full of God. Again, awareness of our sin brings hope for forgiveness. Without a personal awareness of our sin, the Gospel doesn’t become personal, either.  An intellectual awareness that “all have sinned” does us no good.
  • Sin doesn’t take much imagination. No one’s sin is all that interesting- there’s nothing new under the sun. However, forgiveness – God’s mercy – is new every morning. Whatever we think about our sin, it’s not all that exciting to God.  However, God is very creative in showing ways to forgive us and bring redemption. (Romans 5:20)

As I began this post, I was aware that a commentary on Luke 18 has the potential of putting me in the Pharisee’s role; conceivably even an awareness of sin can make oneself proud.  Hopefully I’ve avoided doing this.  I have just started meditating on this issue, so my thoughts are kind of random. However, this seems to fit in with Luther’s teaching on Law and Gospel, which very few non-Lutherans (or Lutherans, for that matter – seeing as I was raised Lutheran) understand, as well as his concept of  “simultaneously saint and sinner.”

All I know is, I’m very, very appreciative of the Gospel.

My Episcopal quandary

I find myself in the midst of a quandary.  I have, over the past several months, fallen in love with a church service.  Not a church, mind you, but the service.  As I’ve mentioned in the past, last December I started attending a local Episcopal church.  After being greatly disappointed with Lutheran (ELCA) services, I found the liturgy in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer to be quite good.

And, this church has awesome music, most of the time.  Besides traditional hymns, they will use current songs like “Shout to the Lord” or classics like “The Old Rugged Cross.” Even the sermons are good.  Being sacramentally-oriented anyway, I have become dependent upon the completeness of worship that the liturgy provides, especially celebrating the Lord’s Supper weekly.  During a fairly unsettled period in my life, church on Sunday morning is my one safe place, the eye in the middle of my often stormy life.

The problem is, the denomination has left the faith.  I can’t tell from a normal Sunday morning, but I know of the issues behind the scenes.

The LA Times reported today,

Leaders of the Episcopal Church, gathering in Anaheim for their first national convention in three years, reopened fractious debate this week over whether to authorize marriage rites for same-sex couples and to repeal a de facto ban on the consecration of gay bishops.

The issues have caused painful divisions in the 2.1-million-member denomination, which in recent years has seen dozens of parishes and four conservative dioceses, including one in Central California, break away. Last month, the dissidents formally launched a rival church.

Despite warnings about the consequences, liberal Episcopalians at the meeting are championing a flurry of resolutions to expand participation of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people in church life, with votes expected in coming days. The conference, the church’s General Convention, runs through Friday.

This is actually nothing, compared to what is also going on.  The Anglican Church in North America, the newly-formed group referred to in the article, has published a booklet charging the Episcopal Church (TEC) with a number of heresies. While perhaps not specifically adopting heretical positions, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori and other prominent leaders have made numerous heretical statements denying that Christ is the only way to salvation, denying the resurrection, denying Christ’s deity, and so on.  One priest is openly Muslim, and anther is a known Buddhist (I think they dd draw the line at Satanism, however).

TEC appears committed to being “all churches to all people,” becoming a nearly-universalist organization.  Furthermore, TEC has taken to filing lawsuits against many churches who have made the decision to leave TEC over these issues.  What is ironic is that it is TEC that has departed from the larger Anglican Communion.

So, that’s my quandary.  Now, I don’t know for sure where this church would stand in relation to these issues. The Priest in Charge (the Rectorship is currently open) appears to be fairly level-headed. He is, at least, a C.S. Lewis fan.  However, I know that there are many in the church that are Marcus Borg fans (I think Marcus has some interesting things to say, but he questions the factual nature of much in the Bible).

I do plan on calling the Priest in Charge and making an appointment to address these concerns. However, a part of me just wants to enjoy the liturgy, and ignore the rest.  That could work, at least until TEC decides to change the liturgy.

Stability in an unstable world

This is a pretty cool video about a growing Lutheran church in Tulsa (yes, Lutherans in Tulsa!).

One aspect of liturgical worship I keep coming back to is intentionality.  Many contemporary churches are blown to and fro, if not by “every wind of doctrine,” by every faddish worship concept.  It’s one thing to be “culturally relevant,” it’s another thing to lose hold of the gospel to gain market share.  Liturgy is grounded in nearly 2000 years of theology and tradition; it’s about as intentional as you can get.  And, reciting words written in the 3rd and 4th centuries certainly keeps you grounded in historical truth.

Another interesting thing pointed out by one of the people interviewed is that everybody does the same thing in worship; it is a true corporate experience rather than the “do your own thing” approach that promotes individuality rather than unity.

Thanks to Paul McCain for this.

Life and Liturgy

I am picking up where I left off a couple of weeks ago, talking about liturgical worship.   If you recall, I’ve gone through the entire Lutheran liturgy from the old “Red” 1958 Service Book and Hymnal, interspersed with a few other posts dealing with aspects of liturgical worship.  For those who may stumble across this post who haven’t read the whole thread, I was raised Lutheran, but have spent the last 30+ years in various non-liturgical churches, mainly in Vineyard churches, which are about as loose as you can get.  I began visiting Lutheran and Episcopalian churches over a year ago, and since last December I have regularly attended a large Episcopal Church.

I like it.  After years of “grab bag” worship, coming back to liturgy has been a Godsend, literally.  It has probably saved my spiritual life from near death – or at least a starved, tortured existence.  It’s not the mood, or the great music (St. Paul’s excels musically, which certainly doesn’t hurt).  Here are a few reasons why liturgical worship means so much to me:

Truth:  I’ve written on this before, but I realized some time ago that I was starving for truth; in most evangelical churches (using the term in its popular, narrow sense), truth is pretty much up for grabs.  You can object, but it’s true.  Week after week goes by singing worship songs that are often vague, existential and which focus on personal experience rather than on truth.  The Bible is read only as part of the pastor’s sermon, and it’s often doled out in fragments, often taken out of context, and often misused.  The Pastor’s point of view takes precedent over the plain truth of Scripture. No creeds are read; often, I wouldn’t know what a church believes just be attending on a Sunday morning.

With liturgical churches, all these issues are resolved.  You can’t possibly walk out of church not knowing who Jesus is. You may have other questions (which is good), but you’ll have the basics.

Intentionality: Nothing in a liturgical church is haphazard.  In fact, you’ve got nearly 2000 years of thought and intentionality behind what you’re doing, and it’s doctrinally rooted in history.  And, you’re not alone; you know that you are agreeing – in recitation of creeds, praying the Lord’s Prayer, and celebrating the Lord’s Supper – with Christians throughout space and time.  Liturgy has a very solid feel to it, as it should.

Interactive Theater: The liturgy is participatory, interactive theater.  The priest, pastor or rector are not anyone but people filling a certain role.  The pastors are for the most part interchangeable; they may change, but the liturgy remains the same.  The people as well participate, reenacting the Gospel story every Sunday.

I liken it to the old “Rocky Horror” events where people would come in costume and say the lines along with the movie.  You can go sit and watch the professionals do church for you, or you can choose to join in.  That’s really what the liturgy is – it’s a chance to join in, in acting out the Gospel.

Incarnational Theology: The liturgy – especially the Lord’s Supper (aka communion, or Eucharist) – is empty without an incarnational theology. Perhaps that’s why so many evangelicals (again, using the term narrowly) think of it as ritualistic or the recitation of empty words.  Incarnational theology is essentially non-dualistic; that is, God is really present. As NT Wright has written, the worship service is a place where heaven intersects earth in a very real way. The valley of dry bones becomes the body when church gathers, and communion is more than just a memorial.  We don’t wait “for God to show up,” we just know that we experience the Real Presence.

Another aspect of liturgy is that the church’s theology, too, is rooted in history and anchored in the liturgy. The church is not blown too and fro from Sunday to Sunday as the pastor gets a new revelation.  This certainly won’t keep the pastor from throwing in random stuff in his sermons, but at least in liturgical settings, the sermon is positionally subservient to the Scriptures.

Humility: Humility is built in the liturgy, especially in Lutheran versions.  Church is first and foremost the gathering of saved sinners.  We celebrate the Eucharist because we need it.   The liturgy reduces everyone to their status as sinners, and then raises them up.

Today’s sermon was particularly interesting, using the text from Acts 10 where God tells Peter that nothing is unclean if God has declared it clean.  The Jewish Christians had forgotten that they were not the host of the banquet, but were merely guests as well, and God has every right to invite whoever he wants. The reminder to us was that we, too, are guests. This sums up the liturgical attitude well, I think.

Corporate: The liturgy acknowledges the existence of the Church Universal, and the corporate nature of the local body.  The fact that people stand, sit and kneel together and recite prayers together acknowledges in practice what we believe theologically.  The “do your own thing” worship totally contradicts the concept of corporate worship.

It’s Out of This World: High-church worship has an obvious other-worldliness to it, with the vestments, music, and ritual.  I personally am tired of going to churches where people don’t even bother to comb their hair.  I expect Heaven to look different than the mall… why shouldn’t church look different, too?

The Eye of the Storm: Lately I’ve come to think of Sunday as the true eye of the storm; it is not retreating from the storm, but taking refuge in the one and only safe place to be renewed and refreshed, to be sent back out.

In the evangelical world, it is common to ask things like, “how was church today,” and in the typical evangelical church context, the question makes sense. However, when I’m asked that now, it strikes me as quite odd, for “church” is no longer about anything that changes from week to week.  Church is always good, because the liturgy is good; that doesn’t change.  The sermon or music could be “off,” but that doesn’t impact “church.”  It’s always good.  (I will make an exception, as I’ve visited churches who play around with the liturgy to try to make it more contemporary or “relevant.”)

I am not saying that liturgical worship is the only way to worship God; that would be ridiculous. However, if I were to correct the defects and gaps that I see in many chuches, I would add in many of the elements which have been a part of Christian worship for hundreds and hundreds of years.  I suspect the inclusion of a few of these elments could revitalize the evangelical church.

The Lutheral Liturgy, Part 5: The Communion

For newcomers, I’ve been writing a series of posts on the Lutheran Liturgy as found in the 1958 Service Book & Hymnal, filling it in with other liturgical-related posts.  I’m learning much in the process, and will probably continue to explore the origins, progression and meaning of liturgical worship.  I will probably even dig out a rather large book called The Lutheran Liturgy that was given to me many years ago, and which has looked good on my shelf ever since.

In keeping with the earliest known liturgies (which date back to the Apostles themselves, according to tradition), the Lutheran liturgy is in 2 parts: The Liturgy of the Word, which I’ve covered in the first 4 posts, and the Liturgy of The Communion, which begins with The Thanksgiving, which is generally sung:

The Lord by with you
And with thy spirit.
Lift up your hears.
We life them up unto the Lord.
Let us give thanks unto the Lord our God.
It is meet and right so to do.

It is truly meet, right and salutary, that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto thee, O Lord, Holy Father, Almighty, Everlasting God:

Therefore with Angels and Archangels, and with all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify thy glorious Name; evermore praising thee, and saying:

Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabbaoth;
Heaven and earth are full of they glory;
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is he that cometh in the Name of the Lord;
Hosanna in the highest.

Then, the Pastor recites the Words of Institution (1 Cor. 11:22-25).  It is interesting that this, indeed, appears to be a part of the liturgy in use in the 1st Century.  This is followed by the Lord’s Prayer, concluding with:

The peace of the Lord be with you alway.
And with thy spirit.

Then the Angus Dei is sung:

O Christ, thou Lamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world, have mercy upon us.
O Christ, thou Lamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world, have mercy upon us.
O Christ, thou Lamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world, grant us thy peace. Amen

Hymns are sung during communion, then the Nunc Dimittis is sung:

Lord, now lettest they servant depart in peace:
according to thy word;
For min eyes have seen thy salvation:
which thou hast prepared vefore the face of all people;
A light to lighten the Gentiles:
and the glory of they people Israel.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost:
As it was in the the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end, Amen.

“Then shall be said the prayer.”

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.

And his mercy endures forever.

We give thanks to thee, Almighty God, that thou hast refreshed us with this thy salutary gift; and we beseech thee, of they mercy , to strengthen us through the same gift, in faith toward thee and in fervent love toward one another; through Jesus Christ, thy dear Son, our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end.

Amen.

The Lord be with you.
And with thy spirit.
Bless we the Lord.
Thanks be to God.

Then the pastor says or sings the Benediction:

The Lord bless thee, and keep thee.
The Lord make his face shine upon thee
and  gracious unto thee.
The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee,
and give thee peace.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.

Amen, Amen, Amen.

A recessional hymn is sung, and we go home, or to Grandma’s for lunch.