Among Lectors

When that parish and four others consolidated, scheduling got more complicated. Most lectors were used to serving at only one time of day, in a predictable cycle. None were used to a 7:00 AM mass, a requirement in the new parish, and only a few prefer it now. When the parishes numbered five, there were sixteen masses among them on a weekend. Now sixty lectors are available for four masses per weekend. Their preferences diverge widely. Some say, "any time," some say "8:30 only," many say "never the 7:00." I'm slowly perfecting a computer program that will suggest who should serve when, based on their preferences, the count of their prior appointments, and the interval since their last service.

Then there are the households with multiple ministers: lectors, ministers of communion, ushers and altar servers. It's not good when independent appointing authorities summon members of the same family to different celebrations of the Eucharist on the same weekend. Release 2 of my program will address that.

So scheduling here is a work in progress, so far no better organized than the one the keeps David Ford guessing. Sorry, Dave.

However, have several times seen indications that you lean to the side of drama on the part of the readers.

We are not thespians.

There are many elements in a good proclamation such as pause, projection, presence, punctuation (actual and implied) just to name a few.

Proclamation does not mean dramatic reading.

Again, we are not thespians.

To hear Scripture this way, listeners need to know the struggles underlying the composition of the books of the Bible. Every passage is about a controversy, about how to be faithful to God in a new situation. That's why Lector's Notes always include a short treatment of the historical situation faced by the prophet, apostle or evangelist's people.

If one grants that the readings have this controversial nature, then being faithful to the text requires that the lector present them with some vigor. They're not dispassionate research papers. They were never meant to be "fair and balanced." The letters of Paul and the prophecies of Amos tried to provoke people to solve problems by changing their behavior and their sense of who they were as God's people.

I would hope that hearing the implied controversy in a lector's proclamation would pique the interest of the listeners, and prompt them to ask how to apply the Scripture to their own struggles, especially to our shared efforts to be a faithful people. (That way of hearing would also prepare members for the homily.) So if I lean to the side of drama in a proclamation, that's one reason why.

Another reason: People find God in the beautiful. The things we do for one another in the liturgy should be as beautiful as we can make them. Liturgy calls for our best artistic efforts. So church architects are visual artists, choir members are musicians, composers of hymns are poets, preachers are orators, and so are lectors. Doing any of those services in a bland or muted way does not disclose the beautiful, and so it does not honor God or build up God's people.

David W. Ford

I would like to hear other views and experiences please.

I train the lectors for our parish. Need your advice. How do you feel about lectors memorizing the readings and delivering without ever looking at the lectionary. My only complaint is that I get the impression from talking to members in the parish that they are more in awe of those who memorize wondering how they did it in the first place. What I do not hear is that they received any scriptural message from memorized readings. I gather that the focus becomes the individual's memorization skills instead of the Word of God. For this reason I have a hard time encouraging lectors to memorize the readings. Let me hear from you. THANKS!

As part of my preparation for lectoring, I annotate a copy of the reading with underscores, highlights, spaces, etc. This helps me remember where to pause, slow down, add emphasis, etc. Last week our assistant pastor informed me that I was forbidden (not his rule - a Church rule) to read from notes. He said that it was required that I read directly from the lectionary.
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What is the basis for this rule, and do you know of parishes where lectors regularly read from their notes?

God is invisible, and has chosen to become known to us through signs. These signs are not just things, but the actions we do with them, as well. Take water. To a thirsty person, it may be a sign of God's providence. To a congregation using it to baptize new members at the Easter Vigil, water is a sign of God at the creation, making dry land appear, fit for human habitation; it's a sign of God's liberating the ancient Hebrews in the Exodus from Egypt, a sign of God's raising Jesus from the grave. To the baptized, it's a sign of new life, and to the parish a sign of renewed vigor. We invest water with these meanings by the actions we do with it, and let it be for us a sign that reveals the work of the hidden God. This is what it means to be a sacramental religion.

The God-revealing sign that fills us with the most reverence is the Eucharist, not just the consecrated bread and wine, but the gathering of the people, the proclamation of our communal memories in the Scripture, the Eucharistic prayer of thanksgiving for Jesus' death and rising, our great Amen to that, the ceremonious breaking of the bread, the sharing of communion, even the dismissal to "go in peace, to love and serve the Lord." All these together are a sign of God's love and call.

The written word of God is a sign of God's covenant with us. So is the act of proclaiming that word in the assembly, which is why you prepare so carefully. Your more formal dress for lector service is a sign of how seriously you take your role, and of your respect for those to whom you are reading. The physical book of the readings, oversized and richly ornamented, recognizable as a special book from the far corners of the church, is a sign, too. It bespeaks our love for the written word of God, the scripture we call "sacred," and that reinforces our willingness to accept what is revealed in it.

Every ritual action is a sign of something. Most liturgies also suffer from contradictory signs, too. We have things and actions that are telling, but what they reveal should be more repented than celebrated. I mean signs of our disinterest, our preoccupation with other things, our self-importance, our fatigue, even our cowardice, personally or as a congregation.

• Consider the congregants who refuse to sing, for example, and leaders who never try to teach them or cajole them into singing. That's a sign; what does it tell you?
• There's the presider who rushes through the dialogues of the ritual, "stepping on the lines" of the assembly; what does he reveal but impatience and disdain for the people's expression of faith?
• The monotonous lector and the unprepared one say "This Bible reading is just going through the motions."
• The altar boy who genuflects on the diagonal gives mixed signs; I believe he's saying "Yes, I want to be here, but I'm an awkward teenager, beset with hormones and self-consciousness, and I wish everybody wasn't looking at me."
• Missalettes are a mixed sign, too. On the one hand they express respect for those whose learning style requires that they read as well as listen before they absorb something. But in the hands of the majority, missalettes say "We don't expect a clear proclamation from the lector."
• Here's a common, really questionable sign: two kinds of chalices, a single ornate one for the presider, and a tray of plainer, different ones for everyone else. If you set your dining room table that way, what sign would you be giving your guests?