Winnie-the-Poohcharist: The sequel

This is the follow-up to the remarkable Winnie-the-Poohcharist worship experience I had at Amazing Grace UMC in Rockville, VA, not long ago. If you haven't read part one, you can scroll down to yesterday's blog post or just click here. And if you've never taken part in a Winnie-the-Poohcharist service, you're not going to believe this...

What I encountered after Associate Pastor Karen Teasely led me into the sanctuary almost defies explanation. The packed worship space had been decorated to look like the Hundred Acre Wood (think Vacation Bible School set on steroids). The "hymns" consisted of A.A. Milne's sing-song poetry straight out of the Pooh books, only set to music by a high school praise band. And let's just say that Rev. Teasely wasn't the only one wearing a costume.

The senior pastor (who would not go on record for this review) looked confused through most of the service, but he did get up and preach at the appropriate time. I noted that this seemed to be the least meaningful part of the service for the congregation, and many of the younger couples - "formerly unchurched" Karen later told me with a knowing expression - got up during the sermon to refresh their donuts and coffee with a quick trip to the Holy Grounds coffee bar.

The real celebration started when Karen herself went to the altar and uncovered piles of cinnamon rolls and little clay pots with "Hunny" written on the side. She sort of skimmed over the Prayer of Confession and went straight to a tailored Great Thanksgiving. It looked like this:

Celebrant: We don't much mind if it rains or snows,
'Cos we're gonna have some honey on our nice new nose!

People: Sing Ho! For the life of a Bear!
Sing Ho! For the life of a Bear!

Celebrant: We don't much care if it snows or thaws,
'Cos we're gonna have some honey on our nice clean paws!

People: Sing Ho! For a Bear!
Sing Ho! For a Pooh!

The lyrics seemed vaguely familiar, and I had to admit that the praise band played a nice tune to go with them. All the words were helpfully projected using PowerPoint, with scenes of Winnie and his friends juxtaposed against images of Jesus and the Twelve.

Jesus himself did make a brief appearance in the liturgy when the words of institution were said, and then Karen went on at length to talk about the sweetened elements in front of her: "Some churches use unleavened bread, and others use leavened," she said with a shrug. "Some use wine, and others use grape juice."

"When you come forward today, you'll receive a cinnamon roll and your own little pot of honey-sweetened juice. Here at Amazing Grace, we think the Spirit is what is important."

As I sat in my pew munching on my Poohcharist, I thought about how meaningful and relevant the whole service had seemed. Stodgy old traditionalists might quibble with some of the things Karen's church is doing, but the service had been packed with young people. And Amazing Grace is obviously not going to let outdated concepts like "tradition" or "orthodoxy" or "the Bible" stand in the way of a postmodern feast for the senses.

And besides, maybe we all need to sweeten up the sacrament a little bit. With hunny. Just think about it: Who can't relate to Winnie and the gang down at Pooh Corner? If other churches follow Amazing Grace's lead, all the poignant lessons we learned as children from philosophic Winnie and his ragtag group of friends can finally be put to use for the Grand Pooh-bah himself: Jesus Christ.

And maybe, just maybe, we also need somebody a little less cosmic than the Second Person of the Trinity for the sacrament to make sense in this day and age. Someone who can really help people think about what God's grace looks like in the world. A rock star? Perhaps. A Pooh Bear? Even better.

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.]