Encountering God as an Anabaptist
by Mykayla Turner
Regardless of style, tradition, or denomination, there is an identifiable climax in most Christian liturgies. It is an instance of divine-human interaction set apart from everyday life. This encounter is typically concentrated into a single moment or liturgical action. Some scholars refer to it as the “liminal phase” of a ritual (Schechner 2013). It is here that transformation occurs.
In contemporary worship settings, music often facilitates this divine-human encounter. For other congregations, the communion elements serve as the locus of God’s presence. While many Anabaptist congregations sing contemporary worship music or do communion weekly, others do not experience encounter through these worship acts.
Where does the divine-human interaction happen in these cases? I’ve been affiliated with several Mennonite congregations in North America, but I’m still searching for an answer to that question.
When I participate in Anabaptist worship, I often feel closer to my fellow congregants than to God. Sometimes, I can identify the source of this feeling—the music, the sharing of joys and concerns, or even the potluck following the service. We are deeply invested in one another, which should be celebrated. By forming and strengthening these interpersonal connections, though, do we forfeit communion with God? Surely not. Nevertheless, I have observed that Anabaptist worship is often more “horizontal” than it is “vertical.” For instance, I recently attended a worship service that featured three members of the congregation as “panelists” in lieu of a sermon. One of them expressed appreciation for “the community” that surrounds him on Sunday mornings. I’ve heard similar testimonies in other Anabaptist contexts.
As worship planners and practitioners, it is worthwhile to consider how we arrived at this liturgical destination.
Thankfully, much of that work has already been accomplished by other Mennonite scholars. For instance, it is well known that early Anabaptists were persecuted for their unconventional or “radical” beliefs and practices. Threats of violence drove Anabaptists to form tight-knit communities that were isolated from the rest of the world. Community members were held accountable to one another and subjected to an excommunicative “ban” if they diverged from an established code of ethical conduct. Given these stakes, it hardly comes as a surprise to find that Anabaptists still hold social bonds in high esteem.
Arguably, early Anabaptists placed greater emphasis on discipling one another than developing liturgical forms. Irma Fast Dueck explains further that, contrary to other sixteenth-century reformers, Anabaptists adopted an expansive understanding of worship that was not limited to a liturgical context (2005). For them, worship encompassed all of life. In addition to singing, praying, and breaking bread together, early Anabaptists worshipped God through their everyday work and other activities. By this logic, a ritual action such as communion is not qualitatively different from an extra-liturgical act of service toward one’s neighbor. While this commitment to serving God in all areas of life is admirable, Fast Dueck identifies a caveat:
“When everything is worship, only passing attention is given to the specific ritualized practices of worship and they easily become neglected and left immature” (2005).
By treating “worship” as an umbrella term, ritual blends into the rest of life. It loses its distinct character. There is no climax, no moment of encounter to be found. Transformation does not occur.
Contemporary Anabaptists may or may not define worship using the same terms as their forebears. Nevertheless, I would argue that many of our liturgical practices are still underdeveloped or disproportionately focused on one another instead of God. Compared to neighbouring traditions, we have some catching up to do.
Is there room in our worship to encounter both God and one another?
Let us take one final cue from our ancestors. According to C. Arnold Snyder, there is evidence to suggest that early Anabaptists viewed themselves as members of the body of Christ (1995). Together, they communicated Christ’s presence to one another and to the world. Many contemporary Anabaptists still locate the presence of Christ within the community rather than the communion elements. Nevertheless, we realize the presence of Christ among us through collective action. When we sing, pray, and break bread together, we encounter Christ in and through each other. By drawing closer to each other, we collectively draw closer to God. At best, the effects of liturgical action thus extend in both horizontal and vertical directions.
I am not describing a series of chronological events so much as I am suggesting that multiple levels of encounter between God and others may occur at the same time. If we recognize ourselves as the collective body of Christ, then divine-human encounter becomes the concomitant of encountering each other. The effects of one encounter feed into the other, especially when concentrated into a single moment or action.
Where might you locate this “liminal phase” in your service? What opportunities for transformation await your congregation?
For some Anabaptists, singing comes to mind, but answers will vary across communities. Regardless, the point remains that communion with God and communion with one another are not mutually exclusive. By bringing these two encounters together rather than placing them in conflict with each other, our communities will grow and flourish in all directions. In doing so, we are not breaking with the Anabaptist tradition. Rather, in the words of Henry Glassie, we are “[creating] the future out of the past” (2003). We are realizing our own potential by renewing—and reshaping—our centuries-old commitment to radical faith. Wouldn’t our ancestors be proud?
In that spirit, I invite you to reflect on these questions and ideas with your local context in mind:
When do you feel closest to God in worship? When do you feel closest to others? Do you ever feel close to God and others at the same time?
Once you’ve identified a moment of “closeness” in your service, consider how you might accentuate it. If you encounter God through music, how might you encourage holistic participation from your congregation? Perhaps you might incorporate dance or other forms of movement. If you encounter God through prayer, you might introduce a visual aid that helps to focus the congregation’s attention. Be thoughtful and creative!
Smaller congregations often share joys and concerns with one another during worship. It is a meaningful time that draws people together. Could we also draw closer to God through this action? Perhaps you might invite your congregation into full participation not only through sharing stories, but through an act of commitment to God and one another that responds to what people have shared. To engage all of the senses, I envision some kind of tactile response that helps the congregation to recognize God in and through each other. For instance, you might invite the congregation to contribute to a collaborative art project that gradually unfolds over a liturgical season. You could also celebrate communion on a more frequent basis.
Consider the timing and placement of divine-human encounter in your worship service. Is it the highest point in the arc of your service? If not, how might you build up to this moment and then step away from it? If you expect to encounter God through the song of response that follows a sermon, could you sing songs earlier in the service that foreshadow what is to come? Could you rest in collective silence after the song ends to help transition out of such a climactic moment? As you identify opportunities for divine-human encounter, be sure to contextualize them within the service as a whole.
Mykayla Turner is a Master of Sacred Music student attending Southern Methodist University in Dallas, TX. Under the direction of Dr. Marcell Silva Steuernagel, her thesis research focuses on the role of music in rural congregations. Mykayla has completed graduate coursework at Conrad Grebel University College and Southern Methodist University in both theological studies and church music. She obtained her A.C.C.M. in Piano Performance from Conservatory Canada in 2023. Mykayla is an active church musician and liturgist in Mennonite, Methodist, and ecumenical contexts.