Chrism Mass, Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Fresno, California
When I first saw that Good Shepherd Lutheran Church was hosting a Chrism Mass, my first question was probably the same as yours: didn’t we just write about that church?
My second question was the one that motivated me to visit the church (again) for a worship service on a Thursday morning: what in the world is a Chrism Mass?
We’d been to a Jazz Mass, but I suspected the mood at this service would be different. After all, the word “chrism” is easier to define than “jazz” -- it means holy oil, a mixture (usually) of balsam and olive oil, intended for anointing the sick, people being baptized, or those being confirmed in their church membership. Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, and some Lutheran churches celebrate a special service, traditionally on the Thursday before Easter, to bless the oil to be used in the coming year. The worship service has also come to be a time when priests and pastors (and deacons and other church authorities) renew their ordination vows, consecrating their lives again to the calling they’ve received.
Dean was sleeping (he had worked the night before), so I went to church alone. When I arrived, the parking lot was full of cars*, and I could hear the organ playing hymns inside the sanctuary. I didn’t want to intrude on a sacred, very personal time in pastors' lives, and I was relieved to think that there was a good chance I could find a seat in a back row without being noticed. After all, I’m not a pastor, and I’m not a Lutheran (until we started this project, I don’t think I’d ever been in a Lutheran church, which is just embarrassing).
Then I opened the door.
The organist was playing. A woman in a clerical collar greeted me, and another in a robe shook my hand with a smile. A man was sitting near the aisle towards the front of the sanctuary. Sneaking in was not an option with only four other people in the room, and Katy Grinberg, in the white robe, invited me to move to a seat further forward. She said that the group would be small, and there was plenty of room for me.
Two men in white robes and stoles came in, and a man sat down across the aisle from me. The service began.
We each had a booklet with the order of worship; it was easy to follow the prayers, readings, and songs. We began with a confession of sin followed by what the church I grew up in called the “assurance of pardon.”
When it was time for the sermon, Katy talked about the passage in Luke 4 where Jesus, shortly after His temptation in the wilderness, went back to his home synagogue. When He was asked to read Scripture, He chose the passage in the prophecies of Isaiah that begins, “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.”
Katy wondered, “Is this a moment Jesus looked back to as His mission statement? I don’t know, but I have those kinds of moments...and there are times I go back to that confirm this is what I was called to.” Though what she had to say was directed to pastors, I was comforted and encouraged when she said, “We trust the God who calls us to action in this world to be at work in this world...That is the challenging and lovely and joyous part.”
After Katy's sermon, the bishop of the Sierra Pacific Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the Reverend Mark W. Holmerud, led the eight of us through the renewal of ordination vows and consecration promises, the blessing of the three bottles of oil (for healing, for those confirming their baptismal commitment after studying what that commitment means, and for baptism), and communion. I was grateful to be able to ask Sylvia, the woman in the clerical collar, if it was appropriate for me to take communion. She said it would be okay.
The program said, “After communion, all are invited to receive an individual prayer of blessing.” I watched while each of the pastors in attendance knelt at the rail in front of the sanctuary while Rev. Holmerud blessed each one with a prayer. After everyone had received communion and prayer, Katy put her hands on either of Rev. Holmerud’s shoulders to pray for him. Most of the others in the congregation also came forward to pray for him.
I was moved to see “the challenging and lovely and joyous” part of ministry being lived out in front of me -- even in a church we’d already visited once before.
*There's a preschool at the church. That's why there were so many cars in the parking lot.
When I first saw that Good Shepherd Lutheran Church was hosting a Chrism Mass, my first question was probably the same as yours: didn’t we just write about that church?
My second question was the one that motivated me to visit the church (again) for a worship service on a Thursday morning: what in the world is a Chrism Mass?
We’d been to a Jazz Mass, but I suspected the mood at this service would be different. After all, the word “chrism” is easier to define than “jazz” -- it means holy oil, a mixture (usually) of balsam and olive oil, intended for anointing the sick, people being baptized, or those being confirmed in their church membership. Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, and some Lutheran churches celebrate a special service, traditionally on the Thursday before Easter, to bless the oil to be used in the coming year. The worship service has also come to be a time when priests and pastors (and deacons and other church authorities) renew their ordination vows, consecrating their lives again to the calling they’ve received.
Dean was sleeping (he had worked the night before), so I went to church alone. When I arrived, the parking lot was full of cars*, and I could hear the organ playing hymns inside the sanctuary. I didn’t want to intrude on a sacred, very personal time in pastors' lives, and I was relieved to think that there was a good chance I could find a seat in a back row without being noticed. After all, I’m not a pastor, and I’m not a Lutheran (until we started this project, I don’t think I’d ever been in a Lutheran church, which is just embarrassing).
Then I opened the door.
The organist was playing. A woman in a clerical collar greeted me, and another in a robe shook my hand with a smile. A man was sitting near the aisle towards the front of the sanctuary. Sneaking in was not an option with only four other people in the room, and Katy Grinberg, in the white robe, invited me to move to a seat further forward. She said that the group would be small, and there was plenty of room for me.
Two men in white robes and stoles came in, and a man sat down across the aisle from me. The service began.
We each had a booklet with the order of worship; it was easy to follow the prayers, readings, and songs. We began with a confession of sin followed by what the church I grew up in called the “assurance of pardon.”
When it was time for the sermon, Katy talked about the passage in Luke 4 where Jesus, shortly after His temptation in the wilderness, went back to his home synagogue. When He was asked to read Scripture, He chose the passage in the prophecies of Isaiah that begins, “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.”
Katy wondered, “Is this a moment Jesus looked back to as His mission statement? I don’t know, but I have those kinds of moments...and there are times I go back to that confirm this is what I was called to.” Though what she had to say was directed to pastors, I was comforted and encouraged when she said, “We trust the God who calls us to action in this world to be at work in this world...That is the challenging and lovely and joyous part.”
After Katy's sermon, the bishop of the Sierra Pacific Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the Reverend Mark W. Holmerud, led the eight of us through the renewal of ordination vows and consecration promises, the blessing of the three bottles of oil (for healing, for those confirming their baptismal commitment after studying what that commitment means, and for baptism), and communion. I was grateful to be able to ask Sylvia, the woman in the clerical collar, if it was appropriate for me to take communion. She said it would be okay.
The program said, “After communion, all are invited to receive an individual prayer of blessing.” I watched while each of the pastors in attendance knelt at the rail in front of the sanctuary while Rev. Holmerud blessed each one with a prayer. After everyone had received communion and prayer, Katy put her hands on either of Rev. Holmerud’s shoulders to pray for him. Most of the others in the congregation also came forward to pray for him.
I was moved to see “the challenging and lovely and joyous” part of ministry being lived out in front of me -- even in a church we’d already visited once before.
*There's a preschool at the church. That's why there were so many cars in the parking lot.