Deep meaning resides in the everyday routines of life, for those willing to look for it; so argues author Tish Harrison Warren in Liturgy of the Ordinary. From getting up in the morning to brushing one’s teeth, to losing the car keys, Warren makes a compelling case that throughout our daily activities, Christians can recognize our true identity: creatures who are fallen by nature but, at the same time, creatures who are a new and holy creation in Christ.  

Liturgy of the Ordinary goes on to advocate for the enduring value of the church’s historic liturgy because it so masterfully reflects and reinforces this truth of our identity. Echoing others who have described life as full of “liturgies” that shape us into the people we are, Warren points out that habits are an integral part of identity formation. As people repeat the same actions over a lifetime, those actions form us into the people we are, both for good and for bad. Liturgy, therefore, that effectively reflects the Christian faith repeated over a lifetime forms us as Christians in our faith, just as it has done for generations of believers before us. With enduring beauty, the liturgy brings Christians repeatedly to the foundational truths of the Christian faith revealed in law and gospel. In the liturgy we are regularly reminded that we are creatures entirely dependent on God’s grace and that God has shown us that grace in abundance in Christ.  

Another key advantage of liturgical worship, as Warren points out, is that it acknowledges that the Christian faith is, at its core, incarnational. In Christ, true God became true man. With his precious blood, the God-man has redeemed not only our souls but our bodies as well. On the Last Day, Christ will raise and glorify our bodies to live and reign with him forever. The liturgy acknowledges and reflects these truths; it recognizes that God has both created and redeemed us, body and soul, and therefore engages the whole creature in worship. In speaking and singing, standing and kneeling, tasting and seeing, liturgical worship forms the entire Christian in the faith.  

Enriched with this understanding of liturgy, Christians can more fully appreciate the liturgical practices of the church in their own lives and also recognize in the elements of the liturgy more than just stodgy traditions but practices that have nurtured generations of Christians in the one true faith and, God willing, that will continue to do so for generations to come.  

Warren’s insights are particularly timely for an age such as ours. Many pastors nowadays have heard at least some complaints that the repetition of the liturgy is “boring.” “If we want to attract visitors and hold onto the youth,” the argument goes, “then we need to embrace new styles of worship and leave the liturgy in the past.” Combine these complaints with the fact that many congregations may be witnessing their weekly attendance slipping, and it is understandable that many a pastor might be wondering what he could or should be doing differently for the worship life of his congregation. 

Amid these challenges, Liturgy of the Ordinary offers a compelling argument not to give up on the liturgy too quickly. Yes, historic worship practices may take a little getting used to, and yes, they likely require that pastors regularly teach their flock the meaning of those practices, but neither of those facts are reasons simply to give up on what the church has passed down to us. If we do, Warren shows us that we may unwittingly be giving up more than we intended, for it is not so easy to separate doctrine from the practices that have taught and reinforced it. In other words, the phrase lex orandi, lex credendi is both a comfort and a warning. Warren points out, in fact, that even the non-liturgical practices that are sometimes embraced at the expense of liturgy also communicate meaning. Those responsible for the spiritual care of Christ’s flock, therefore, are wise to consider carefully exactly what those practices are teaching.  

Repetitive practices, moreover, need not be boring or lifeless when Christians understand the rich meaning communicated in them. When we remember that in the invocation is a reliving of our baptism, when we connect the confession of our sins with all the sorrow that sin brings to our day-to-day living, and when we hear in the absolution God’s answer to that sorrow for time and eternity, these practices repeated over a lifetime can offer new significance and depth of insight each time they happen.  

Finally, the historic liturgy of the Christian church is not a worship straitjacket; instead, it allows for a rich variety in worship, while still leveraging the power of rite and ritual. 

Readers will enjoy the time spent with Liturgy of the Ordinary. Warren writes with a captivating, easy-to-read style. With plenty of folksy anecdotes and well-placed humor, Warren uses everyday occurrences to draw profound insights that others might easily overlook. Liturgy of the Ordinary excels at making complex ideas accessible and understandable to a wide audience. Confessional Lutheran readers might find themselves wishing Warren (who comes from the Anglican church) had devoted more space to expounding on why the rituals of the liturgy are so powerful. In other words, while the repetition of habits can indeed be a powerful force in life, the real power of the liturgy comes not simply from being a repeated habit or tradition but from the fact that it has its basis in the powerful Word of God. It is this objective power of the gospel in Word and Sacrament that the Holy Spirit uses to call, gather, enlighten, and sanctify his church on earth. As Luther himself recognized, therefore, it is the liturgy’s deep roots in the Word of God that impart its true and lasting value. Warren’s insights, nevertheless, remain valuable and important. In Liturgy of the Ordinary, Lutheran pastors will find plenty to consider and to apply in their service to Christ’s church.