Winnie-the-Poohcharist: A liturgical review

I've got a remarkable story to tell:

Liturgical renewal in contemporary Protestantism is taking on a number of surprising forms: Emergent worship settings where weekly Eucharist comes in the form of mulled wine and sweet bread. Or U2charist services in formerly button-down Episcopal churches where the sacrament is received to the sounds of Bono's theologically-inspired vocals.

But neither of these comes close to matching what I saw during a recent trip to Amazing Grace United Methodist Church in suburban Rockville, Virginia.

After a friend told me about Amazing Grace UMC's own foray into Eucharistic renewal, it only took a quick phone call to put me in touch with the Rev. Karen Teasely, the church's Associate Pastor in charge of Innovation Ministries.

I could feel Karen beaming over the phone. "I heard that the Episcopalians came up with U2charist," she said. "Now Episcopalians are nice folks. But I wouldn't exactly call them cutting edge. But heck, 'cutting edge' is on our marquee!"

Karen invited me up for the following Sunday to see what the church was doing for myself. "Just come on up and worship with us," she said. "We've got something that'll knock your high church socks off."

The "something" is a liturgical experiement that the folks at Amazing Grace are calling "Winnie-the-Poohcharist." Aimed primarily at children, youth, and the unchurched, Winnie-the-Poohcharist combines the sacrament with poems and imagery from the popular A.A. Milne children's books to offer - according to Teasely - "a more relevant sacramental experience."

Intrigued, I drove up from my home in Durham, NC, to Rockville the next Sunday. Pulling into the parking lot, I saw that 'cutting edge' was, indeed, on the church's marquee (it reads "Amazing Grace - we worship on the cutting edge." In tiny letters at the bottom of the sign it reads, "A United Methodist congregation").

Karen was supposed to meet me before the regular morning service, but I didn't recognize her at the front door because of the Tigger costume she was wearing (think of a college team mascot). She spotted me right away and started bouncing in true imitation of Tigger himself. She was clearly eager to talk and, it seemed, a bit over-caffeinated. Amazing Grace has recently shut down its food pantry ("lack of volunteers," Karen explained) and transformed the space into a cutting edge coffee bar ministry called Holy Grounds. We headed there for a couple of venti-sized, double-shot espresso lattes with seasonal pumpkin spice and a conversation.

Once settled, Karen and I chatted about the pros and cons of Winnie-the-Poohcharist. "I admit we've gotten a little creative with the liturgy," Karen confessed. "But you should see what Winnie-the-Poohcharist has done to our numbers on Sunday morning."

When I suggested that some might see Amazing Grace's new project as copy-catting the well-known U2charist movement, she turned slightly combative.

"Look, this is all about updating the sacrament to give it relevance again," she said. "And Winnie-the-Pooh obviously makes a better messiah-figure than Bono."

"I mean, Bono's all about fixing poverty and getting rid of AIDS, but he still parties like a rock star."

When I asked Karen what exactly made Winnie a Christ-figure, she was ready with a laundry list of answers. "For one, Winnie wandered around the Hundred Acre Wood doing good, just like Jesus in Galilee."

Hmmm, I thought, that makes Winnie a good person, er, Pooh, but not exactly Jesus-like, right? Wrong.

"And just look at his friends," Karen went on. "Eeyore, Piglet, Tigger, Kanga, and Baby Roo. What do you call them?"

"Uh, talking animals in a children's story?" I ventured.

"Outcasts and marginalized! Think about it. Eeyore is clinically depressed. Tigger's got ADD. Kanga is a single mom trying to raise a kid. And Piglet? The ultimate playground wimp. Those critters are as lost as any leper or blind man in the gospels!"

Karen gulped down the last of her latte.

At this point, my jaw was laying on the table. "Just wait till you see the service," she said with a wink, before donning the head of her Tigger costume. "Come on!" And with that, we bounced into the sanctuary.

[I'll conclude my experience at Amazing Grace in a post tomorrow. Stay tuned. You won't believe what comes next.]