Why I'm an Episcopalian

The question was innocuous enough.  You'd think after four years I'd be able to answer it.

But as my Baptist neighbors pulled into my driveway after we returned from a recent symphony concert, the question took me by surprise:  "So, why did you convert?"

And it's not the first time anyone's asked me, either.  Another friend of mine, a Methodist, responded to the news of my confirmation with, "Why'd you do that?"

I suppose, in many circles, going from Baptist to Episcopalian is considered a bit shocking.  Even with denominational barriers crumbling in recent decades, the evangelical conceit is that one moves away from liturgical churches as one matures spiritually, not toward them.

Given that, I'm usually hesitant to respond with any specifics.  After all, choosing a new faith tradition implies rejection of the old one.  I certainly don't want to offend or judge.  And so I answer ... carefully.

I always come back to the liturgy.  In my Baptist years, I was subtly taught to distrust forms of any kind (never mind that any worship service is a "form").  Spontaneity was highly prized - praying was extemporaneous, preachers never read anything during their sermons except the scripture passage, and as Baptist worship became more influenced by charismatic practice, even the singing became more free-form (or is that "form-free"?).

But once I stopped stressing out about juggling a prayer book and a hymnal, Anglican worship touched me in ways I couldn't really explain.  These were no dead forms - these were ancient echoes of a faith that is, as Eugene Peterson says, "continents wide and centuries deep." 

We knelt - to confess, to ask, to adore.  We stood - to listen, to praise, to recite.  And as we sat in the cool and the quiet of what is truly a sanctuary, listening to the Eucharistic Prayer, I felt I'd stepped out of a noisy world and into the Presence of the Holy.

I couldn't help but compare it to the Sundays I spent in Baptist megachurches - the rousing congregational singing, the pacing of the fiery preacher, the emotional altar call.  The ads for the last church I attended called it "exciting worship."  I soon called it "jarring."

No doubt, much of my response to liturgy is tied to my temperament.  I'm a classic introvert who hates crowds and noise and who looks for meaning everywhere.  And that's okay.  I suspect God's big enough to allow for that.

On an early episode of Joan of Arcadia, Joan accuses the God figure of being "snippy."  His response? "I appear to you in a form you can understand. You understand snippy so I'm snippy."

I understand silence.  I understand symbols.  I understand beautiful language and old music and even older prayers.  And God, gracious God, allows me to see Him in those things.

And that is why I'm an Episcopalian.

Comments

[Anglican]

Great post. And at the risk of seeming trite, I say, "Ditto." Your experience of moving from a Baptist to Episcopal worship approach mirrors mine. Peace be with you.

[Alex]

I can definitely relate to a lot of what you're saying. I grew up mostly in non-denominational churches (altho there were periods of time in my life when I just flat-out didn't go to church). I always got the impression that doing church in any kind of ritual manner was wrong (I may have been told this when I'm younger and just forgot). For some background information (since we don't know each other), I'm 20 and I recently got my driver's license, so I've been checking out some churches in my area; I've been mainly interested in liturgical churches for seemingly similar reasons to yours. I don't think most people I know would understand; I don't think I have many friends I can relate to with this. Most of them either prefer "low-church" settings or are just non-religious altogether. On the plus side, my friends don't think there's anything wrong with the churches I'm interested in visiting.

From my experience, liturgy pretty much brings everyone to the same level. Instead of the pressure I sometimes feel in evangelical settings to be "more worshipful than everyone else", which seems prideful to me, it's much easier to focus on God in a liturgical service, since I don't feel like anyone in the congregation really stands out. I'm not one to be super-excited during worship, and I don't want to stand out because I'm not. (There's nothing wrong with being super-excited, in my opinion; I'm just not that kind of person.) Plus, with all the standing up, sitting down, reading stuff, etc., I feel like I'm really participating in the service *and* I'll never fall asleep during church.

[govokinolij]

Hello

Looks good! Very useful, good stuff. Good resources here. Thanks much!

G'night

[Dennis Malloy]

My conversion wasn't from an evangelical church; it was from the Roman Catholic. You express your shift in worship quite well. My explanation (reference the URL above) is more about some practical aspects of things...

Dennis

[David]

Wonderful reason. This is a reason I think all Anglicans can say without bringing into it any of the stresses we are facing today, no matter what side of the issue you are on. I never thought of it like you put it and will refer to this the next time someone asks me "why did you pick that church".'