Lately, I’ve been re-watching old TV shows. Not that the shows themselves are more than thirty years old, but they’re shows I’ve already watched all the way through. They’re familiar. I know what will happen. I know when an episode might make me laugh or cry. Sometimes I even speak the lines right along with the actors, knowing the scene right down to the timing of each word.
They say that re-watching TV shows or movies is a bit like ordering your same favorite meal every time you go out. It’s comfortable and reassuring particularly because it is so familiar. When I already know what’s going to happen, it doesn’t take any extra emotional energy to wonder if Buffy is going to defeat the vampire, or if J.B. Fletcher is going to figure out who the murderer is, or if Alexis and Ted are going to break up, or if Captain Picard is really going to be assimilated by the Borg. Happy or sad, I already know the ending.
But here’s what I have discovered lately: I notice new things when I watch old TV over again. The second (or fifth) time through a series, I realize that there are common threads woven through the show. I notice foreshadowing that I hadn’t picked up on before. I realize that the writers and directors and actors all worked together to make these shows tense, hilarious, heart-wrenching, or thought-provoking at the right time. There is so much to notice when I go back!
It’s not just watching it again that’s helping me see new things. Last year, the old TV we had in college finally bit the dust, and we replaced it with one that’s about twice the size. Wow. I can see things clearly that I couldn't see before. I am, quite literally, getting a closer look. Sometimes, it’s quite surprising! Details pop that were previously lost in the background. Other characters are more visible on the periphery of the shot. I see more because I have a better way to watch.
It’s gotten me thinking about both worship and Bible study.
When I was a kid, I sometimes found worship repetitive and, well, monotonous. How many times were we going to say “Lord, have mercy” or “hear our prayer” or any of the other repeated phrases of the liturgy? Did we really need to pray the Lord’s Prayer every week, and the same with saying the Apostles’ Creed? And, for that matter, how many times can we read the same passage from Luke on Christmas Eve before it gets old? Did I really need to read Psalm 23 so many times that I memorized it for Sunday School? Maybe you’ve asked some of the same questions.
I’ve come to the conclusion that repetition in worship, done thoughtfully, is a bit like watching my favorite TV shows again. It’s familiar. It’s reassuring. It gets the words stuck in my head so that when I need them, I can pull out phrases like “help, save, and defend us, O God” or “your will be done” or “glory to God!” I get to know the patterns and language of worship so well that even when I am a participant in worship someone else is leading, it’s a bit like watching those familiar shows: I know the words.
This is even more true when it comes to Bible study. When I reread Psalm 27 any time I feel worried, it brings peace. When I take another look at the letters of the New Testament, I reconnect to the earliest believers in Jesus Christ. When I prepare again to preach Luke 2 for Christmas Eve, I notice new things I didn’t see before. When I look at another translation, it’s like a bigger TV suddenly drawing my attention to something I hadn’t noticed before.
It’s okay, good even, to return to what is familiar in our faith. It comforts. It reassures. It strengthens. And sometimes it even surprises.
Above all, when I return to what is familiar, in worship or in reading the Bible, I know what will happen: God will speak, and my heart will be changed into one more like Jesus.