Tish Harrison Warren and Doug McKelvey on The Liturgy of the Ordinary (from the Archives)

Published Mar 31, 2025, 11:39 PM

This archive episode of The Habit Podcast, from the first season, features a three-way conversation between Tish Harrison Warren, Doug McKelvey, and Jonathan Rogers. Tish is an Anglican priest, a former columnist for the New York Times and Christianity Today, a senior fellow at The Trinity Forum and the author of Prayer in the Night and The Liturgy of the Ordinary. Doug is best known as the author of the Every Moment Holy books. In this episode, Tish, Doug, and Jonathan talk about the liturgies of the writing life, finding meaning where it is to be found, and liturgy as a way of making room for mystery to assert itself.

So one of the things that I've learned since the books come out is that ordinary for a lot of people, is a code word for something, but I really think everyone experiences the ordinary. Whether you are a stay at home mom or a stunt driver. I wrote this book in part because I, um, you know, was a 20 something that kind of wanted to, like, change the world and or at least a part of it and live adventurously and, um, had no idea what daily life why that would matter to God or, uh, what spiritual formation and discipleship looked like, um, in ways that that weren't kind of flashy or emotional or big or life changing or world changing.

Welcome to the habit podcast. Conversations with writers about writing. I'm Jonathan Rogers, your host. In this archive edition of The Habit podcast, we're going all the way back to the first season in 2019, and one of my favorite of the almost 300 episodes of this podcast. It's a three way conversation between Tish Harrison Warren, Doug McKelvey, and me. Tish is an Anglican priest, a former columnist for The New York Times and Christianity Today, a senior fellow at the Trinity Forum, and the author of prayers in the night and the liturgy of the ordinary. Doug is best known as the author of the Every Moment Holy Books. In this episode, Tish and Doug and I talk about the liturgies of the writing life, finding meaning, where it is to be found, and liturgy as a way of making room for mystery to assert itself. Tish Harrison Warren, thank you so much for being on the Habit podcast.

Yeah, thanks for having me.

And Doug McKelvey, I'm so glad you're here, too.

Yeah, it's good to be back.

We thought it'd really be fun to get you two in the same Conversation, not the same room because Tish is at home and Doug is here with me. Um, because Doug's book, Every Moment Holy, is a book of liturgies. Uh, Tish. Your book. Liturgy of the ordinary, obviously is very concerned with liturgy, and it seems like people who go looking for one book sometimes end up with the other book as well. And so I would just love to hear you all talk about some of the commonalities between the work you do and, and, um, I just think this is going to be I think interesting things are going to happen, uh, with, with the two of you in conversation. I want to start with the idea of the ordinary. I mean, Tish, that's in the title of your book, and it's, uh, it certainly is, um, an important idea in in Doug's book. Um, the idea that that you're, you're both calling readers to pay attention to the ordinary, um, in the belief, in the faith, in the confidence that, um, that the ordinary things of the world are are holy or shot through with meaning. So and also, by the way, I think that's a good posture for a writer, right? It's that's that's a spiritual posture, certainly, but it's also a writerly posture.

So one of the things that I've learned since the books come out is that ordinary for a lot of people is a code word for something like, um, often it's a code word for, uh, like, oh, so this is about being a stay at home mom, or this is about being boring or, um, this is about, uh, you know, being in your 40s with a mortgage as opposed to in your 20s or a famous person or a person that makes an impact on the world. But I really think everyone experiences the ordinary. Whether you are a stay at home mom or a stunt driver, you know that that becomes that becomes the stunt driver's ordinary, right? It's their life and, um. And so, uh, I wrote this book in part because I, um, you know, was a 20 something that kind of wanted to, like, change the world and or at least a part of it and live adventurously and, um, had no idea what daily life why that would matter to God or, uh, what spiritual formation and discipleship looked like, um, in ways that that weren't kind of flashy or emotional or big or life changing or world changing. So, um, I hit in my 30s, a period where, uh, you know, my husband was in grad school, we were living in Nashville, and I. I just had no idea how to find Meaning and how to seek God in my actual my actual lived life. It was sort of seeking God was a fantasy for a different kind of life than the one I was actually living. Um, and so sort of out of that, I, um, wrestled a lot for many, many years. And then many, many years later, I wrote this book, um, sort of pulling from a lot of things that I had learned over those years. But in general, when I say ordinary, I just mean the stuff that makes up your actual life, what you actually do with your day. So what you do in your first two hours of your day, your last two hours of your day, what you do for your work, what you do with your neighbors and your friends, um, which we all have. I mean, the president of the United States has to brush his teeth. So. Or we hope so that he does. Anyway, so, um, no one escapes the ordinary.

Yeah. Doug, I know you've done some thinking about the ordinary. I mean, you've you've written two liturgies that I know of about changing diapers. I don't know how many others you've written.

Yeah. I'm trying to create a new subgenre. What Tish said does resonate with me a lot in my own experience. Um, from from the standpoint that I grew up in traditions where there was, um, actually not a lot of tradition, but in subcultures where there was a lot of talk about doing great things for God and, and a lot of pressure for, you know, to have some sort of international worldwide, you know, miraculous ministry.

Yeah.

Um, and, you know, anything less wasn't, wasn't really worth thinking about. And yeah, at a certain point in my young adult life, um, suddenly coming to to a place where that all ground to a halt and it was like my, my ship struck an iceberg. And that iceberg was the realization that I don't know how to love people. You know, I have never been a good friend to anyone. I have not been, um, a good son or brother. You know, I just fundamentally have this problem where I can't maintain relationships and and my first calling, if I'm going to follow Jesus, is to learn to love people. And if God ever wants to do something else beyond that, through my life, that's fine. But I need to just concentrate on this lifelong goal of trying to become someone who loves people more like Jesus does. Mhm. So I think that that idea of coming to realize that our life is made up of ordinary moments and that the only people we can serve and love are those who are actually in our lives, that you know, that our lives are rubbing up against each other in some capacity. So, um, so. Yeah. What what you were saying, Tish? Um, you know, it it took me back to to that part of my own experience. Um.

Yeah. So I deeply resonate with everything Doug just said. And I should say, actually, funny enough, just this is a total aside, but I actually don't own a copy of my book right now because I gave my last copy away. But I have Doug's book on my coffee table, so I own his.

Book.

And not my own book. But, uh, to bring it, I'm well aware that I feel like I didn't address the writing part of your question. And so I'll just I'll say that I think. Um, so I was really wrestling with ideas of live as a formation of the way daily life forms us. Um, and so around the same time I took, um, I mean, I, I am a, I'm an Anglican priest, I'm a pastor, I worked in campus ministry. So I loved to write. I wrote a lot, but I never thought I'm going to be a writer. This is going to be my career at this point. It's my career. I mean, it's the main gig I do, but. And that that it sort of I stumbled into it and writing found me way more than I found writing in many ways. Like I wasn't looking for it, but. So my writing started. I just, um, I took a poetry class, I took a poetry writing course. There was a a middle Tennessee university had a little, uh, like graduate level. You could take writing courses there. And I really on a it was a total lark. Just took wanted to take this class and writing poetry and, um, really, really loved it. But the reason that I did it was to notice my own life was to take, um, I've never published a poem, so it didn't lead to, you know, I've never even tried to publish a poem, but maybe I should, but I but it it was writing began for me as a way to notice what was happening in my actual world. I was young, I was at the top of my 20s and bottom of my 30s. I was pregnant with my first child, and I felt like my life was changing and I needed to look at it. I needed to kind of hold it close and notice it. And so, um, that was how writing with that poetry class. And then a friend of mine, um, who had a online magazine called the well that InterVarsity put out, it was asked me to to write for it. And essentially I started writing just about my own life. It was very slice of life. It was very like, what am I learning in my actual life today? So I feel like now, I mean, I just wrote a piece for Christianity Today. They asked me to write about the via media, which is a very ideas heavy piece, but writing didn't start for me about ideas. It really started about noticing what was happening in front of me.

So could could one of you make the connection.

Between the idea of the ordinary on the one hand, and the idea of liturgy on the other? I'm not sure that's self-evident to to everybody who hasn't read your books, who's not familiar with your work, of why you know why, for instance? Um, uh, tissue. Would you would speak of the liturgy of the ordinary? Uh, what's the connection?

Well, for me, um, liturgy is simply those things that we do, the stuff that we do, the practices in our life that form us. So that that certainly is formal liturgical liturgy on Sunday morning. Um, but that's also like, uh, you know, compulsively picking up your smartphone is a liturgy. And, um, uh, I don't know, you know, we have liturgies around our family life. We just started school again and entered this routine. And it feels it's liturgical, right? It's like a it's a liturgy of our time, of our year. So, um, you know, there were when I was wrestling with these questions of how does ordinary life matter? There was this whole spate of Christian books for a while that were like, uh, all about ordinary and how they mattered and how God meets you in your regular, boring life, which was great. They're actually good books, and I benefited from them. But I kept saying like, why this can't just be. I don't want just this to be another piece of information that I hold in my head. You know, my ordinary life matters. Like to, you know, put on a sign on the wall or something to remind me. I wanted to understand. And so the question, the answer for me was formation, that this is the place that we are formed. And a lot of it has to do with the name of your podcast with the idea of habit that these are the things that kind of make us, um, and so, um, most of our life, I would say is lived by liturgies, daily liturgies, and some of those form us to more beautifully to give and receive love and some of those form us. And so my book is a lot about wrestling with what are the things that form us in our daily life?

Um.

When I first moved to Nashville in the early 90s, um, mercifully, I, I ended up very quickly plugged into the art house community that, um, Charlie Peacock and his wife Andy had just formed that nonprofit. And, um, one of the things that that Charlie was really discussing at the time was the idea of Quorum Deo, of all of life lived out under the gaze of God. and there being no divide between sacred parts and secular parts, but that all of it alike belong to God and was lived under his gaze, and should be part of our act of worship. And those ideas were new to me and and became very formational. Um, as I was just at the point of beginning to rebuild. Um, you know, a theology that that was actually more scriptural and, and, and made more sense than, than what I had grown up with that ultimately fell apart. Um, and so in writing, every moment holy. One of the underlying ideas of it is. The hope of being able to communicate to people that that idea that, you know, we might tend to think of, um, just church services as liturgical or certain ceremonies for baptism and marriage and those sorts of things. But the reality is, as Tish was saying, that everything that that we do that forms the rhythms of our lives is formational to who we are. And and my hope was to help bridge that gap for people in their understanding that, um, that Charlie was so instrumental in, in helping to bridge for me and mine when I was in my 20s that that everything matters. It's all part of that. That act of worship and all parts of our lives can be offered to God and considered in light of his, of his truth and his spirit at work within us.

Yeah. Till you use the word formation. Um, and, uh, it made me think about the, you know, you have a chapter about, um. Making your bed, you know, just just that simple habit of getting up in the morning and making. Making your bed.

Yes. Which I do not always do. So even though it's in the book. I sometimes do it, though. Yeah.

I mean, of course, this is a podcast about writing, um, and, um, and I think that that idea, these ideas of. On the one hand, paying attention to what's right in front of you instead of thinking, I've got to say something fabulous or something nobody's ever said before or whatever, I think that's super important. And then also just this idea of the habits, the, the liturgy of every day, um, trusting the process, sitting down, doing, I mean, this this is I think that's what you mean by formation. Um, Tish, you know, just the idea of of doing these little habits that that, um, making your bed once isn't going to make any difference in your life, but doing it every, every morning eventually does.

Yeah. That's right, that's right. And I, I talk about that, um, in the book that I never made my bed, I mean, never I didn't and I, I mean, I say this in the book, but it was true, like, it hadn't occurred to me that grown ups, like, did this made their bed when they weren't, when there was no parent to make them do this? Um, and which just speaks to the state of my home. But, um, but, uh, so I would often wake up and immediately go to my smartphone, which that used to does no longer does, but used to sit, you know, on my bedside table. And so I would like look at the news the very first, um, moments of the day were imprinted by technology and, and, you know, news and entertainment and news tainment, which is kind of, sort of all of our news now and. Yeah. Um, and so I had no space for the, uh, actual embodied world that I was in, noticing the weather outside, the what I was feeling in my body or hearing outside. I had no space for silence. Uh, and so that chapter, uh, on bed making isn't so much about, you know, keeping your house clean. Uh, because I would cannot I will not be able to write that book, but I, um, but I it's about, um, learning these very small practices that that change the course of our day, um, really subtle things that point us to something. Larger than ourselves, or point us in a different direction than just our. My sort of natural habits and natural inclinations would be. And I definitely think that, um, there's a book on habit that I can't actually even remember, but I know that there's this concept in it of sort of super habits or habits that shape all our other habits. Bed making may even be mentioned as one of those, but, um, but writing, I think the arts of any sort is definitely one of those that, um, right, writing is something that you have to sort of take up as a habit that you have to kind of do over and over again, or at least give some real time to. Um, and that habit is going to shape the rest of your day. Shape the way you see the rest of your day as you're going through it. I mean, and also shape your actual time. But I feel like when I started writing, we had really little kids, and so I had basically an hour and a half every morning that my husband would take the kids and I could write, and that was it. That was all I was going to write that day. And so, um, and that was four days a week. So I had just over whatever that is like ten hours in a week. And that was going to be all. So I had to. So my life was shaped around that habit and, and thinking about what I was going to write the next day, what I was going to do. And now that I actually have more time and write more full time, it's actually kind of in some ways, I think I get some less done in some ways because it's easy to go, well, I'll write in an hour or so. And so that sort of habituation of time, I think changes us as writers, but also the the practice of writing changes how you walk around in the world, how you grocery shop and do everything else you do. It kind of shapes who you are.

Yeah. One of the connections that's important to me between, um, the habits of writing and the the, uh, liturgy, more properly speaking, if that's the right way to say it, is, um, that in there are mysteries about writing. There are things that happen when I sit down to write that I don't understand what I don't understand what's going on, and I have no control over those things. But what I do have control over is actually sitting down and actually putting, you know, so I can that those habits that I do have some sort of control over create room and space for these mysteries to assert themselves, um, which I think is a really important part of, of I mean, I know it's a really important part of what you all are talking about.

I absolutely love that idea. So so much. Um, James Brian Smith and his book, The Good and Beautiful God. His first chapter is about sleep as a spiritual practice, and one of the things he says is that sleep teaches us about all spiritual practices, and that you can't make yourself sleep. You can only create the conditions under which you might fall asleep. Yes, but you can't actually rest on your own. I mean, that has to sort of be received as a gift. And I talk about that a little bit in the last chapter of my book. But, um, I very consistently in writing, um, write things I don't know, don't know, I knew and. Yeah. Um, and there's, um. So I do I love what you had to say about. I do think there's this mystery to it of my husband, who's an academic writer. doesn't understand what I mean by that, but it's very consistently I feel like I'm, I don't I'm learning as I'm writing. And, um, and so there is this kind of entering into something that's that I don't control. But, um, creating, we're creating those conditions where that might happen. Yeah. And, and you kind of walk. I remember reading Walker Percy every day. He sat in his office from 9 to 12, he said, and sometimes he would write a lot and do really well, and sometimes it wouldn't go well. But he said you kind of had to get to the point where you gave up and just begged God to throw you a bone so that. So that, you know, this isn't the last the last thing you said isn't going to be the last thing you ever say.

Yeah.

Uh, so there is this sense of you sit there in your office and you, throw yourself on the mercy of God. And he said, you know, he, his wife could always tell, um, how well writing went by when he came out at noon, if he was sweaty or not. And he said when he wrote this lately, his life problem is that he hasn't ever been sweaty coming out of his office. But anyway, so he just sat there. He just sat there and waited. Waited.

So when he was productive, he got sweaty. Or he when he was unproductive, he was sweaty.

When he was productive, he got sweaty. That's funny.

Um, just a couple of, uh, weeks ago, on a recent episode of The Habit, um, Jessica Hooten Wilson told me that Walker Percy also watched soap operas and the Incredible Hulk.

That's awesome.

You know, I've spent the last few minutes looking for something on my phone. Um, and I finally found it. Um, but it's where my mind went when you asked that last question. And this is this is a short, um, Celtic prayer. It's, um. I doubt this title was actually attached to it, um, when it was written during the heyday of, of Celtic Christianity. But the title on it is praying with the spirit. Um, but I've just been struck with how insightful and penetrating, um, the the thoughts of this anonymous author were hundreds of years ago. Sometimes when I pray, I utter the words, but I do not feel or think them. Sometimes when I pray, I utter the words thinking about what I say but not feeling. Sometimes when I pray, I utter the words and I both think and feel what I say. An act of will cannot make me feel, nor stop my mind from wandering. An act of will can only make me utter. So I shall utter the words, and let the spirit do the rest, guiding my mind and heart as he wills.

Wow.

That's so beautiful.

But I spent so long trying to find that that I forgot what the tie in was to your question.

No, it ties in perfectly. It's this idea that we. We sort of show up with our, like, little, little tiny tools, whatever they are, that prayer, your keyboard. And then you're. But you're waiting, grace. I mean, you're waiting God to move.

Yeah.

That's beautiful.

Yeah. And it's healthy to acknowledge that there are mysteries at work, but it's not especially helpful to spend all your time wondering when the mystery is going to assert itself. And you know, you're better off just sitting down and and doing it.

Yeah.

And hoping for the best.

Yeah.

And part and also mystery can look really ordinary too. You know, I completely believe that mystery is at work. And sometimes mystery looks like, um, you know, I mean, this has happened where I'm learning things at my computer and weeping because God is, like, healing me through this process of writing. But sometimes mystery can look like I am frustrated and I don't know how to make this sentence work, and I don't know how to do this. And, uh, and but I keep working on it and, and eventually through editing, you know, something semi coherent kind of happens. I think what I'm saying is I think there is a great mystery, but I don't want to only associate mystery with sublime experiences like the my daughter planted garlic in our backyard last, um, yesterday. And if that garlic grows like, that's a great mystery. But it's it's also really, really ordinary. And she's going to have to do lots of, you know, regular garden maintenance to do that. So, um, and no one, no one's going to think it's a miracle that she, that garlic grew from garlic. But, you know, it is kind of a miracle that things grow.

Yeah. And, uh, staying in touch with with that fact that that's a miracle. Um, that's that's a really helpful, healthy act for anybody, but especially for a writer. I, I have something I call the other the other people's rodents, uh, principle. And that is the rodents in your own life. You are either you don't like your own rodents. The the chipmunks that that burrow under my patio. I hate those chipmunks. I hate Tennessee chipmunks. But when I go to Colorado and see the little Colorado chipmunks, they're just darling. And, you know. And so what got me thinking about this is there were Australians who came, Australian exchange students who came to to my kids school, and they went nuts over the squirrels. They thought the squirrels were the most amazing thing they'd ever seen. And these are people who lived with kangaroos at home. But because they were, you know, because they were different, they were able to see what a what a miracle squirrels are. And they weren't wrong. It's just that I'm so used to squirrels that I forget.

Um, right. It was your ordinary.

That's right.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

All right, last question. Who are the writers who make you want to write? Tish, Doug's already had his chance, so, uh.

I want to know his own.

But I didn't hear that one. I want to now. I'm going to go back. Um. That make me want to write? Okay.

So, of course, this isn't the same thing as who are your favorite writers? I mean, it could be, but.

Yes. Yeah, you warned me of that because I have a list of my favorite writers. But I already told you this. But I'll tell your listeners, like Flannery O'Connor is, we named our daughter after Flannery O'Connor and Dorothy Day. So I love them, but I don't write like Flannery O'Connor. I don't write fiction. I don't write short stories. So reading her nourishes me. But I don't think I'm going to go write about, you know, a murder, a family murder or something. Um, so the people who make me want to write. Um, Annie Dillard is a huge one. She's been very influential to me. And when I read her stuff, um, she Makes me believe that we live in a world that is wild and wondrous. And that makes me want to write. Um, so, Annie Dillard, um. Uh, there's poets that are really influential to me. Um, like Scott Cairns. But I don't write poetry I haven't written. I do write poetry, but I don't show it to other people. So, um. But.

Yeah, but but if.

He makes you want to go sit down and do.

What you do, though.

That counts.

I think he does. And his prose also like Lucy Shaw Scott, particularly Scott, but, um, his prose have been also really formative to me. He does a really good job of writing prose poetically. Um, so reading him and he's so steeped in the I mean, he reads like Eastern Orthodox Fathers from 2000 years ago. Every single morning. And then he writes poetry about, you know, his daily life. So it's just he really, um, inspires me. Um, I I'm embarrassed about this one, but C.S. Lewis is so predictable. But, um. But he's huge. I mean.

Yeah, sure.

He's been so influential to me. My, I put lots of I love other people's writing. Um, so much. And so in my books, I always end up with lots of people's quotes. Too many quotes. So my when I turned in liturgy, the ordinary, my my editor didn't have a ton of changes. But her main she said there's too many quotes. There's too many C.S. Lewis quotes and too many James K.A. Smith quotes. Um, and then this book. I know already that next one, I'm writing a book right now that's due in a month or two. And, um, it's I know she's going to say there are too many CS Lewis quotes and too many Rich Mullins quotes. It's just there's so many in every chapter. But Rich Mullins is also one of the writers. Um, that makes me want to write. And, um, he not only his songwriting, but he, he wrote little essays that I think are beautiful and brilliant. And, um, and then also Eugene Peterson, when I read Peterson, I want to write. Um, those are some. Yeah, folks. Uh, and, and patchett's nonfiction work has been really, really, um, influential to me as well. So.

All right.

Yeah.

Well, Tish, thanks so much for being here. And, Doug, thank you to. This has been a lot of fun.

Sure. Thank you.

Thanks.

I hope we can do it again soon. All right, y'all.

Bye bye. Bye.

The habit podcast is brought to you by the Rabbit Room, where art nourishes community and community nourishes art. You can support their work, including this podcast, by becoming a member. Visit COVID-19. Special thanks as well to Taylor Leonard for letting us use her song diamonds as the theme music for The Habit podcast. You can learn more about Taylor and follow her work at Taylor. Com. The Habit membership is a library of resources for writers by me, Jonathan Rogers. More importantly, the habit is a hub of community where like minded writers gather to discuss their work and give each other a little more courage. Find out more at the habit.

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