Friday, August 17, 2007

Reviving an Ancient Practice

For the past couple years I have been incredibly intrigued by an often-forgotten aspect of our past: Celtic Christianity. Recently, there has been an explosion of literature on that subject, and several of its spiritual themes are finding deep resonance with "postmodern" Christians. Indeed, I've found it to be incredibly valuable in my own walk with Christ, and I've used several of its practices with the youth of my church.

One of these practices is the blessing, or benediction. While not exclusively Celtic, it does find a unique usage in Celtic spiritual writings. The word "benediction" (which we translate blessing) actually comes from two Latin words: bene (good, well) and dico (to speak). In its simplest form, a "benediction" is simply to speak well of something.

We have often turned "benediction" (like so many other Christian practices) into a programmed, sanctimonious moment, in this case at the end of the service. It is something that only the minister does, and it is so formal and generalized that few people are truly "blessed" when it happens.

In perusing their writings, I've found that the Celts had benedictions for everything...family members, friends, new babies, the elderly, the cow they were milking, the birds outside their windows, the fish they just caught, the field they were tilling for harvest. They believed that everyday words and language were powerful, and they wanted to be channels of positive spirituality in the way they talked.

I have shared this practice with my youth several times. During retreats, on mission trips, or just in youth group, I will occasionally stand up and just start "speaking well" of each individual youth in front of the entire group. Sometimes I will tell them a spiritual gift that I see in them; other times I will praise them for a specific act that revealed Christ's love; other times I will make it more of a challenge for them to grow in some aspect of their lives. Whatever it is, I try to make it truthful and totally unique to each individual youth.

Every time, something incredible happens. After I am done giving the youth benedictions, without fail, they start to give benedictions to each other. During one retreat, I allotted approximately 20 minutes for myself to do benedictions, and the process ended up taking nearly two hours because the teens just wanted to keep sharing. A similar thing happened this past June during the Work Mission Trip to Wesley Woods.

Some adults might very well write that off as just touchy-feely, teenaged bonding experiences...but I disagree. Personally, I think it is an incredible alternative to what these teens see every day, including in our churches. I believe that in a world where so much of our conversations are reduced to pettiness, criticizing, fault-finding, gossip, and superficiality, it provided them with an opportunity to bless each other with deep truth and love. It enabled them to realize that Christianity doesn't just offer a free ticket into the pearly gates in the hereafter, but it also alters the way we should relate to each other in the here-and-now.

The Celts are right: words are powerful things. I am humbled by how many times I've inappropriately used words in my relationships, when they've been curses instead of blessings. May God give me the wisdom to use words rightly: to practice the spiritual discipline of benediction, not just on Sunday mornings, but in daily life, that I might truly be a blessing to others.

Psalm 19:14

6 comments:

Jeff Vanderhoff said...

Thanks for the background information and the word study! You are absolutely right about how powerful this can be. Every year at horse camp, our closing activity is a service of holy communion, and as I give them the elements, I say some words of encouragement to each individual camper. I never knew how much it meant to them until one year we didn't have time to do it, and some of the kids came up to me on their own and asked me to say some encouraging words to them like I had the year before. Who knows? Maybe it's one of the few times in their lives when they hear positive words of encouragement. After that experience, I've always made sure to make time for this special closing service. Keep up the good work, Jeff!

Chris said...

Jeff, sounds like a Holy Spirit moment. How humbling it must be to be there as the youth you lead begin to bless each other.

Randy Roda said...

I always felt uncomfortable at the benediction part of the service, usually the end. I had beem used to seeing pastors raise their hands and tell us to go forth in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I never felt right about doing that. By the end of my ministry in the local church, I was simply telling them that God has blessed them and now they should go and bless others.

My point is that what should be such an important part of who we are (the good word), that it should not be just an after thought or a closing.

Great post!

Keith H. McIlwain said...

Like you, I find Celtic spirituality quite attractive. The fact that you've been able to utilize some of the wisdom and practices of the Celts in your ministry with youth speaks well of you. Great job. I pray for some of that same Spirit & boldness!

Eric Park said...

Wonderful stuff, Jeff.

Your post reminds me of a question with which I continue to struggle:

Why is it that the spirit and vocabulary of disparagement seem to come to church-folk so much more easily than the spirit and vocabulary of blessing?

I suppose it has something to do with the risks involved in blessing another--specifically, the risks of acknowledging our own inadequacy and losing our place as the center of attention for a moment.

smartyrmartyr said...

It has always been saddening for me that a thing like benediction is relegated to a special occasion, rather than a way of life. It is important to make special occasions out of such things at times, but more as a celebration. It is so easy for human hearts to fall into the trap of believing that such observances somehow fulfill the 'obligation' of it. Such things ought to be considered special, but not because they are rare.