To the extent that I can get and stay conscious enough to choose, I choose to listen for the Holy Spirit. This process of discernment explains why I now ignore almost everything* but scripture text in The Workbook for Lectors, Gospel Readers, and Proclaimers of the Word (Note: capitalization in the original). I didn’t always dismiss the emphatic margin notes about which words or verses might rate extra emphasis.
In the beginning of my adventures as a lector, I paid attention to directives printed in the workbook. Yes, there’s actually a workbook that some parishes distribute to lectors. Yes, I actually heeded suggestions like:
“Speak this classic line slowly and with great warmth.”
“This is the climax of the text. Speak with greater energy. Take a pause before, ‘Jesus.’”
“Make eye contact with the assembly. Speak like a loving parent or wise teacher.”
“This is another line to be delivered with utter conviction.”
I guess I wanted to do a good job or at least not screw up, a concept I now realize is laughingly absurd given everyone’s attention span during liturgy.
But was I supposed to be delivering an award-winning theatrical performance or engaging prayerfully with scripture so that others might be moved to do the same? And if I was supposed to be inviting deeper engagement with scripture, then why was I letting the workbook determine the essence of text?
Happy to report it didn’t take long for me to swing into this critical inquiry mode. This epiphany happened the day I read, “Stress the work of the Spirit here” but was blessedly able to hear,** “Go deeper.” And so I choose to go with God, trusting that at least in this domain of my life discernment eclipses defiance.
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*I generally pay attention to the phonetic spelling for names and places; very helpful for tongue twisting passages like Acts 2:9-10.
**Not audibly but you know what I mean, right?