Tradition and Transformation

Why Liturgy Still Matters

Every Sunday, as the congregation gathers at St. John’s UCC, Massillon, a sacred drama unfolds. The lights, the music, the ancient rhythm of liturgy begins again. For many in our distracted, fast-moving world, these ritual actions may seem anachronistic. But there is wisdom in this sacred drama, offering a spiritual shelter for those longing to be anchored in something real, lasting, and life-giving. Liturgy is not a museum piece nor is it something that only the exotic, ethnic denominations get to enjoy. The liturgy of the Church, the Body of Christ, is a living stream of the Holy Spirit that both connects us to the timeless and transforms us in the here and now.

​The Sacred Drama and Divine Presence

At St. John’s Church, worship is rooted in the Mercersburg tradition, which is defined by its devotion to liturgical order grounded in the mystical presence of Christ. In this theology, the drama of worship isn’t stagecraft; it’s the real, transformative meeting place of God and humanity. The altar takes center stage, NOT the pulpit, mediating the mystical presence and making room for a genuine encounter with the divine. We gather as participants in God’s ongoing story, united across generations in prayer, song, and sacrament.

This dialog between altar and pew (prayers, responses, and gestures) transforms ordinary people into co-actors in God’s drama. The repetition of the liturgy’s rhythm, the cycle of the church year, and the weekly Eucharist (Communion/Thanksgiving) ground our scattered lives in a narrative of grace and renewal. The depth we seek is found in faithfully receiving, embodying, and passing along the rich faith that precedes us; it isn’t some nostalgic novelty (we don’t have time for that!).

​Sensory Worship: Embodying the Whole Gospel

Liturgy reminds us that faith isn’t only for the intellect; it’s an embodied experience for the whole person. The Mercersburg movement (which comes out of the German Reformed tradition) insists that Christianity declares God became flesh, the ultimate act of incarnation. At its heart, liturgy is incarnational: it uses the ordinary (water, bread, human voice) to reveal the extraordinary presence of God.
Worship is designed to engage all five senses, drawing us out of isolation and into union with Jesus Christ and our neighbor:

• Sight: The flicker of candles, the drama of the altar, and the beauty in light and color.
• Sound: The resonance of Scripture, the sound of hymns, and the human voice lifted in shared prayer.
• Smell: The aroma of incense rising as a visible prayer.
• Touch: The tactile gesture of sharing peace, or the physical signs of the sacraments; baptism and communion.
• Taste: The grace received in the Eucharist.

Even the simple acts of kneeling, standing, or exchanging an “Amen” teach our hearts what it means to belong and to believe at a level deeper than mere thought. Experiencing God through our full selves (body and soul) is essential, reminding us that faith is not only believed but lived.

​Liturgical Space in a Fragmented World

In a world defined by fragmentation, where technology divides, anxiety pervades, and news cycles relentlessly spin, the grounding rituals of liturgy offer crucial spiritual shelter from the weirdness and vileness of the world. The pattern of worship and confessing holds us until our hearts can catch up. The repetition is far from mindless; instead, it is merciful. When our own words fail us, the ancient prayers are still there to remind us that God has not abandoned us.

Liturgy helps us resist fragmentation by centering life around God’s cosmic story, a story bigger than any headline or personal crisis. It teaches us something deeply countercultural: patience, humility, and belonging. Here, tradition isn’t a cage; it’s a pathway to positive change. The ritual doesn’t exclude; it’s meant to include, opening a space where anyone, no matter who they are or where they are on life’s journey, can meet the Holy (right here in Massillon, Ohio).
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Liturgy still matters because it shapes us into God’s people in a world searching for meaning and connection. It reminds us that transformation happens through trust, through showing up, week after week, to be reshaped by grace. Going to worship should not be a surprise, “What’s the pastor going to do this week? Should we bring our gardening gloves, because we might be heading outside to give thanks to the Earth?” Nothing wrong with giving thanks to the Earth, but the liturgy should follow the sacred rhythms of the Church in a sacred and refined manner, unfolding the sacred drama of our Lord Jesus Christ, not presenting a weekly novelty.