Christian Lehnert

This book is the record of conversations between Christian Lehnert, a theologian who specializes in liturgy at the University of Leipzig, and Manfred Schnelle, a dancer and choreographer in Dresden who died shortly before this book appeared. The authors give helpful advice on essential stations in a worship service, including the invocation, prayer, and Lord’s supper.
The combination of “reine Gebärde” (pure gesture) in the title and “liturgische Präsenz” in the subtitle, however, reinforces a common misunderstanding that certain postures or gestures are “present.” This impression is strengthened by the inclusion of photos showing Schnelle performing acts such as the blessing or making a cross.
Once one begins reading the book, it quickly becomes clear that there is more to it. Already in the Vorwort (foreword), Lehnert writes that Schnelle’s answers never came in the form of rules, or what is “right,” much less technical descriptions. Instead, they consistently pointed to a spiritual path, an inner readiness and openness for the secret of God. This personal spiritual movement was for him the premise of all liturgical acts; they were for him less a “doing” than a “receiving” (p. 6, my translation).
More clarity comes on page 16, when the title is called something the ancient Church spoke of. Schnelle’s comment on it: No one can do that at the drop of a hat.
Much of what is discussed and demonstrated was familiar to me through my work with Thomas Kabel, who first popularized the phrase liturgical presence. But there were a few insights new to me. For instance, Schnelle, who was a dancer, spoke of the importance of the Boden, the floor, as the constant basis of all movement in a room (p. 13). He also describes the path to the altar as a prayer in pure motion. By this, Schnelle means a posture without character. He illustrates this by a parallel to meditation, in which the goal is to let go of concern with the self.
After Schnelle’s dismissal from the Dresdener Staatsoper (creativity was not always prized in the DDR), he lived from performing choreographed dance in churches. It was natural, then, for Lehnert to ask him his opinion of liturgical dance. I won’t quote Schnelle’s entire reply here, but one important point he makes is that liturgical dance is a misnomer. One who celebrates liturgy has only a narrow margin of discretion, whereas dance demands freedom in space and gesture.
Schnelle’s approach can best be summed up in this advice: “Sei ganz das, was du tust!” (p. 30). This book is recommended for anyone concerned with quality in worship.
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The challenge the poet sets for himself is to write religious poetry without being overt (we are, after all, dealing with a deus absconditus) nor sentimental. I feel he succeeds in this.
His formal technique is equally strict. He uses traditional forms, rhyme, and meter.
German is not my mother-tongue, and I found these poems difficult to understand; in aggregate, however, they took on more sense. The clue is in the jacket flap: the poet, who is also a theologian, strives for implicit pneumatology. The words “Wind” and “Hauch” recur. Other images of God frequently appear as well; not directly, however, but in their contrasting effect (“Schatten,” “Asch”).
Another key term is “Wort,” with its reminiscence of the pre-incarnate divine (John 1) and its relation to breath/spirit. Here is a particularly striking example, from the poem “Licht in Blättern, fliederfarben, rot” (p. 37):
Gesagt ist Staub, doch aus der andern Richtung,
woher die Sonne glänzt, ist es ein Schimmer
The collection is divided into four sections of unequal length, with the second section, “Brennender Dornbusch” the longest. In the third section, Wegwarten, the poems are longer and more complex. For example, in “Die Mücken” Lehnert describes the first swarms of mosquitos in spring, suggests a comparison of the reaction of city-dwellers both to them and to refugees, then deftly sketches ways in which mosquitos and humans, in general, resemble each other.
The fourth section contains only four poems. Three of them take as their point of departure sentences from Luther, between the second and the third is one that cites Luther’s erstwhile disciple, the more radical Thomas Müntzer. The final poem, combining quotations from a sermon Luther gave on the gospel account of Jesus opening the mouth of a mute and report of Luther on his death-bed, is a fitting conclusion to the book.
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