Issue #3: Liturgical Spirituality

Previous Issue: Spiritual Reading of Scripture

I come from an evangelical-charismatic tradition where anything that looked liturgical was frowned upon as being traditional, and tradition, as far as they were concerned, were the traditions of men (Matthew 15:1–9 and Mark 7:1–13). Further, their emphasis on biblical faithfulness often led to a cautious posture toward liturgical or historical traditions, which were sometimes seen as distractions from Scripture itself. This often resulted in the minimizing of historical liturgy or church tradition. Yet, over the years, I have discovered the following:

Firstly, while there certainly were, and still are vain traditions, the Apostle Paul affirms traditions, especially those he passed on (1 Corinthians 11:2; 2 Thessalonians 2:15; 3:6). Some Bible translations translate “traditions” in these verses as “teachings,” however, this may just as easily be translated as “traditions” which is arguably a better translation as you will read in most English translations.

Secondly, liturgy is an important feature of Old Testament worship, and it’s interesting to note that it also features in the New Testament, consider for example the Last Supper (Matthew 26:26–29; Mark 14:22–25; Luke 22:14–20; cf. 1 Corinthians 11:23–26), and the earliest days of the church in Acts 2:42. Not to mention that the Book of Revelation also has liturgy (Revelation 4:8; 5:9–14; 7:9–12). If you attend a Roman Catholic, Orthodox, or Anglican Mass, you might see that it draws upon various liturgical themes and elements found throughout the Book of Revelation.

Thirdly, not only can liturgy be found in Scripture, but it’s also in the secular world. In his book Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation, Christian philosopher James K. A. Smith highlights various secular liturgies, which everyone, including evangelical-charismatic Christians I mentioned earlier, undoubtedly participates in. He provides the following examples: (1) the shopping mall with its floor layout, music, advertising, and social dynamics, all of which contribute towards a liturgical experience. (2) The sports stadium with its symbols, rituals, music, anthems, dress, national identity, and collective emotions. (3) Schools and universities with their emphasis on learning, daily routines, class environment with a teacher or lecturer, academic rituals, and the social environment, all of which contribute towards a formative liturgical experience.[1]

Lastly, contemporary worship services often excel at creating a personal, accessible, and engaging atmosphere, particularly for those new to the faith. Yet, interestingly, even in these churches that emphasize spontaneity, certain patterns and practices often emerge. These unconscious or emergent liturgies, while different from traditional forms, demonstrate the human tendency to create ritual and structure around shared experiences of faith. I remember fellowshipping at such a church, and there was a distinct order of service, beginning with a welcome, a prayer, announcements, and people were then invited to the open space in front to worship, and songs were sung. This was an opportunity for spontaneous prayers and reading of scripture, after which people returned to their seats, and the children were “released” to go to Sunday school. There was a prayer, followed by a lengthy sermon. After this, there was often some kind of an altar call, usually with soft worship music playing in the background as people prayed for one another, and after this, the service ended. Sometimes, informal communion would also be a part of the service. While these churches may not use formal liturgy, they still engage in regular rhythms and practices that function in deeply formative ways.

I’m not seeking to knock “non-liturgical” churches, but I am suggesting that all churches have liturgy in one form or another. I think it would be fair to say that by “Liturgical Spirituality” I’m referring more to the traditional liturgical forms found in Roman Catholicism, Orthodoxy, Anglicanism, and other High-Church Protestants in mainline churches like the Lutheran, Methodist, and sometimes the Presbyterian churches. In many of these church traditions, the outline of their liturgies is more or less the same.[2]

The direct translation of the Greek word, λειτουργία (leitourgia), liturgy means, “work or service of and for the people.” However, as much as liturgy refers to the Sunday worship service, it refers just as much to private daily prayer. As another Christian Philosopher, Nicholas Wolterstorff explains, most liturgical worship is communal, but not necessarily so; many people enjoy using a script in their personal devotions, for example, the offices of morning and evening prayers of the Anglican church. This repetition, he continues, is “the scripted performance of acts of worship.”[3] So, keep this in mind as we continue, that liturgy can also be an important part of one’s daily devotion.

Unlike the secular cultural liturgies, as James K. A. Smith mentioned earlier, the liturgies of the church are counterintuitive, as Mark Galli points out. He explains that liturgy “appears culturally strange at first, but it’s more like an intriguing story, full of mystery, that not only attracts but reshapes our perceptions and our lives.” It helps us to enter into divine communion with God by engaging our “body, mind, and soul.”[4] When done properly and meaningfully, liturgy can have a transforming effect upon us, says Galli, as we participate in the liturgy ongoingly.[5]

A significant part of liturgical spirituality is the Eucharistic prayer. The prayers begin before the partaking of the elements of bread and wine, but as Galli points out, God’s story of “creation, fall, redemption, Pentecost, and the Second Coming” is beautifully rehearsed here too. Though obviously the focus is casting our thoughts back to Jesus’s death and resurrection, it also points us forward to the marriage supper of the Lamb. The Eucharistic liturgy gives us the entire arc of redemption history in a nutshell.[6] And if the sermon in a liturgical church doesn’t always explicitly preach the gospel, the liturgy itself often articulates it powerfully and beautifully.

Contemporary evangelical Christianity has many commendable aspects, like an emphasis on personal faith and developing a relationship with God, community and fellowship, a high view of Scripture (Bible-based), focus on evangelism and missions, expressive spirituality and worship, and so on. However, the secular culture of consumerism and entertainment, particularly within some large contemporary churches, perhaps unintentionally, may prioritize the individual over a God-centered approach (this is not true of all contemporary churches). But liturgy should always be about God, it’s not so much about our needs, though our spiritual needs are certainly addressed, as Galli says.[7] He explains, “It’s about God as he is in himself: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It is not about our blessedness but his.”[8]

It’s a wonderful thing when we begin to recognise that our needs are not as important as we might think they are, especially when we are faced with “something infinitely more worthy of our attention—something, someone who lies outside the self.”[9] Galli says that the beauty of the liturgy is that it takes people out of their world, so to speak, and leads them into a very different world, the world of the transcendent and the eminent. For many, liturgy may feel foreign at first. But as Mark Galli notes, its unfamiliar rhythms can open us to a deeper, more mysterious vision of reality. The invitation to enter this world is made to housewives, engineers, artists, teachers, priests, monks, blue-collar workers, and so on. The liturgy is for everyone and is meaningful to all those who participate in it.[10]

Participation in the liturgy includes various kinds of actions, like “listening, speaking, and singing, … standing, kneeling, processing, crossing oneself, distributing bread and wine, eating bread and drinking wine, sprinkling with water, dunking in water, closing one’s eyes, dropping money in a container, washing, kissing, prostrating” and so on.[11]  While the priest leads the liturgy, it is ultimately the church that enacts the liturgy,[12]  and while “the church actualizes and manifests herself in the liturgy,” God also acts in the liturgy.[13] The idea of God acting in the liturgy is a prominent theme in Wolterstorff’s book, The God We Worship: An Exploration of Liturgical Theology. In another book on liturgy, by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI), The Spirit of the Liturgy, Ratzinger explores the role of beauty in liturgy, explaining that it ought to be a feast for the senses and that it should engage our emotions and imagination. Ultimately, liturgy is a transformative experience drawing us closer to God, which is why he proclaimed, “Liturgy implies a real relationship with Another, who reveals himself to us and gives our existence a new direction.”[14]

Contemporary worship certainly has many positive characteristics, but traditional liturgies offer a different kind of richness—one shaped by centuries of reflection, beauty, and spiritual depth.[15] While my journey has drawn me toward liturgical spirituality, other approaches may also foster meaningful devotion, discipleship, and intimacy with God.

One of the most magnificent examples of liturgical spirituality is the Sarum Rite. It’s a pre-Reformation rite developed at Salisbury Cathedral in England and was in use between the late eleventh century and the English Reformation. It’s not very common these days, but it’s used occasionally on special occasions. It’s an elaborate liturgy, but it is very similar to the Roman Rite, which is less ornate and has influenced the liturgies of the Roman Catholic and Anglican communions, such as the earliest versions of the Book of Common Prayer. While some elements reflect the historical context in which it was developed, the Sarum Rite remains a rich and historically significant liturgy, well worth exploring.

Task

For this task, read the Sarum Rite, available here, and reflect on its emphasis on beauty, order, Scripture, and community participation in worship, and then write down your responses to the following questions:

1. Compare an element of the Sarum Rite (e.g., use of Scripture, prayer, symbolism, or participation) with how worship is practiced in your own church tradition.

2. How does your tradition express similar spiritual values? How is it different?

3. Consider how the principles behind the Sarum Rite (such as reverence, communal prayer, and engagement with Scripture) can enrich your spiritual life, regardless of your denomination (or non-denomination).

4. What aspects of worship—whether highly structured or spontaneous—help you encounter God most deeply?

Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash.

AI Disclaimer:

This article has been edited for grammar, clarity, and readability using AI-assisted tools. The core content, theological insights, and personal reflections remain my original work.

[1] James K. A. Smith, Desiring the Kingdom (Cultural Liturgies): Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2009).

[2] Mark Galli, Beyond Smells and Bells: The Wonder and Power of Christian Liturgy (Brester: Paraclete Press, 2008), 10–11.

[3] Nicholas Wolterstorff, The God We Worship: An Exploration of Liturgical Theology (Kantzer Lectures in Revealed Theology) (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), Loc. 245.

[4] Galli, Beyond Smells and Bells, 10–11.

[5] Galli, Beyond Smells and Bells, 12.

[6] Galli, Beyond Smells and Bells, 17.

[7] Galli, Beyond Smells and Bells, 59.

[8] Galli, Beyond Smells and Bells, 59.

[9] Galli, Beyond Smells and Bells, 59.

[10] Galli, Beyond Smells and Bells, 57.

[11] Wolterstorff, The God We Worship, Loc. 168.

[12] Wolterstorff, The God We Worship, Loc. 289.

[13] Wolterstorff, The God We Worship, Loc. 308.

[14] Joseph Cardinal (Pope Benedict XVI) Ratzinger, The Spirit of the Liturgy, trans. John Saward (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2000), 22.

[15] Wolterstorff, The God We Worship, Loc. 467–477.