In Search of a Tactile Liturgy

Some eighteen or so months ago, it was mentioned, in a post Sunday service chat, that it was felt that the gospel was getting lost between the readings and the sermon, and that a way should be found for its re-emphasis.

In many church services, this emphasis is marked when the gospel is processed aloft from the altar and read from the nave. This online problem was quickly resolved by ‘bracketing’ the gospel with a few moments’ silence both before and after the reading, thus helping to mark the importance and significance of the gospel within the liturgy.

This discussion led me to reflecting, over many months, on other areas of the liturgy, and more generally the ‘Church’ experience, that had been lost in its translation to an online format.

More especially, for the first time, I considered just how much of regular ‘Church’ was a multi-sensory experience that had been lost during the Covid years, and remains ‘lost’ to an online community.

I should mention here that I do not consider a Holy Hermits Online liturgy, to be in the same manner that other ‘online’ services are considered. Throughout history, Church has been an event. There has always been and ever will be an aspect of theatre within which the liturgy is presented. I mention this because for me, a HHO liturgy is not the same as watching, for example, Songs of Praise or even watching a YouTube service from a parish or cathedral, whether it is live or pre-recorded. 

There is a profound shift in sensibility between a YouTube service and being engaged with an online parish such as HHO. 

All that being said, personally there was still a facet of liturgical experience that I was seeking. It wasn’t a loss of community or community engagement, it was a loss of physical and tangible engagement with liturgy; an element of the overwhelming beauty and essence of liturgy that had been lost needed to be reengaged. Mentally and spiritually all was well, but my physical senses ached for an aspect of liturgy that had been stripped by being online.

The first part was easy. Stand for the reading off the gospel. Unless I am involved with the online presentation of the service, when it is time for the gospel I turn off the camera and stand behind the office chair. It may be a simple act, but it does  shift one’s focus to what is being read, and tells me in a very physical way that this  demands attention above all else.

The other thing I have done is introduce an ‘icon corner’. 

A quick AI definition (if this is a new concept to you):

“An icon corner is a dedicated space in a Christian home, particularly in Eastern Orthodox and Greek-Catholic traditions, used for personal and family prayer and worship. It serves as the ‘spiritual heart’ of the home, featuring holy icons, a cross, and other religious items, to act as a constant reminder of God's presence and to foster spiritual growth and connection to the divine”.

I think that is a reasonable definition. 

So five or ten minutes before the liturgy broadcast begins I light candles and incense and recite a few prayers before the cross and icons. Then during the service it is often necessary to maintain both items, especially if one of the cats 
begins to be interested in the flickering candles.

Part of being present here is the ‘housekeeping’ needed in respect to the divine.

So how does this help me in the context of an online liturgy? This is not so easy to put into words. The icons, candles and incense do change the ‘atmosphere’ of the room, especially whenever they are physically engaged with. The light and fragrance help in bringing the whole body into worship and engage my senses with the divine. It does aid in making the experience more wholistic and less technical. 

The simplicity of the Gospel is made more acute by the presence of simple elements like light and fragrance. Which, as I write, makes me think that it would also benefit by the introduction of a few simple flowers from the garden?

No doubt the icon corner will change over the years and seasons. But what it does do is bring some of the history and presence of Christendom into the room where the liturgy is taking place, and reminds me that “we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses”.