As we worship by Mary-Anne Rulfs

Published July 11, 2025
As we worship by Mary-Anne Rulfs


Express emotions? During worship? But we’re Anglican!

Yes we are. And when we gather, we worship a God who, according to Scripture, feels deeply with us and for us. God who laughs and cries, who feels anger and calm, who expresses frustration and contentment. God who is the source and the expression of all that is beautiful and holy and awesome and compassionate and merciful. God who evokes in us all kinds of responses.

So why then, would we not express emotions evoked during worship? In response to beauty and holiness and awe and compassion and mercy, and all the other attributes of God of which we become aware during worship. Nowhere is it prescribed that to be Anglican is to be so self-contained that one must wear a poker face for the duration of worship!

Listening to a panel of speakers from the UK in a podcast this week as they addressed, amongst other things, the Bible Society’s recent paper The Quiet Revival, one of the points made was that as we observe a trend of people returning to church in the UK, younger people especially, it is the more charismatic and Anglo-Catholic traditions of the Anglican church that are experiencing the most growth. Traditions that engage our senses and evoke emotional responses. Where our body as well as our hearts and our minds move and feel, engage and respond to sights, sounds, smells, textures and language. The flickering of candles, visual imagery in sculpture or graphics or vestments, music modern and traditional, classical and popular, preaching that engages hearts as well as minds, lighting and furniture layout that enhance worship rather than stifle. The language and style of prayers and scripture and hymns/worship songs. Perhaps even the wafting of incense in some settings. All of these can be pathways to a deeper connection with God as we worship, and ways of nurturing deeper love and respect for ourselves and others.

All of these opportunities to engage our whole being, including our emotions, in worship, require integrity from whoever is leading worship. The presiding priest or minister and those who lead music have the immense privilege of leading and being permission-givers for people to worship freely, while also holding the responsibility to ensure authentic freedom.

When I think back to growing up, I loved going to church every Sunday. In that particular church tradition, every service would begin with the words ‘Let us worship God’ and proceed in a comfortingly familiar way, with reading of scripture, preaching and prayer framed around 4 hymns. And communion every 3 months. I felt so much inside of me, and yet there was so little opportunity to express all that I was feeling! When I eventually landed in a very different church tradition in my 30s, it was such a contrast. So much emotion! Framed by a slow, fast, slow worship song set, a Bible reading and long (often repetitive) sermon, another 5 minute message preceding the offering, informal communion and closing worship songs where a music formula (I know because I was one of the musicians) would compel people to respond to an altar call. I gradually felt uncomfortable in this particular setting that lacked accountability for authenticity and the pastoral wellbeing of worshippers.

While no church is ‘perfect’ – whatever ‘perfect’ is – I eventually felt let down by these traditions as I experienced them. By the one for not providing sufficient space to be fully human in worship, and the other for manipulating emotions.

As Christians who worship in the Anglican tradition, how might we find a way to worship together that is shaped by an order that holds us for the benefit of all, but is not constraining? That allows space and freedom for expressing emotions evoked during worship in ways that are life-giving for both individual worshippers as well as the gathered community? How might we worship in grace-filled ways so that others feel welcome to join us? How might we strengthen our culture of hospitality so that whoever is beside us, or around us during worship can be invited into an authentic expression of worship?

Perhaps some of the appeal of ‘Breathe’, our reimagined Evensong service on the 2nd Sunday of each month, is freedom to participate in worship in a range of ways and contemplative space in which to quietly engage with our inner life.

It seems this approach requires awareness on our part of our own emotional repertoire, while also appreciating the rich diversity of human expression. We are fortunate at this time in history to benefit from resources that help us to be more ‘emotionally literate’ than people were decades ago. Children are taught to recognise and name their emotions, as in the animated ‘Inside Out’ films. Adults also have access to relatable information about emotions. Brene Brown’s Atlas of the Heart is a ‘go to’ for me. Important work of scientists, psychologists and social researchers help us to better understand neurodiversity and appreciate and respect the range of ways in which humans express emotion or find themselves unable to do so. We are all ‘wonderfully made’ and our calling as followers of Jesus is to see and respect the wonder of each and every human person we encounter.

In a recent workshop on emotional intelligence, the facilitator said, ‘good liturgy evokes emotion’. The work we do together as people gathered to worship God (that’s what liturgy means) is to engage in the music, prayers, scripture, preaching and Eucharistic meal that shapes Anglican worship. There is an invitation, as part of that work, to respond not only with our minds, but also the prompting of our hearts, souls and physical strength as we immerse ourselves in the goodness, love, mercy and grace of God who knows us and loves us, who weeps with us in our pain and celebrates with us in our seasons of joy. God who gives life and brings wholeness to the broken, while gently encouraging the disappointed and sceptical, and nurturing those whose hearts have grown cold.

How might we lean into worshipping God in the beauty of holiness with a posture of humility, naming our sorrows and open to receiving comfort, offering our love and open to hope, and when necessary, crying our tears of joy, pain, confession or exasperation? Open to the Spirit of God moving in our midst. And all the while, always respecting the dignity and worth of those alongside us.

Grace and peace,
Mary-Anne