“The word amen (“So be it; truly”) is a declaration of affirmation found in the Hebrew Bible and New Testament. Its use in Judaism dates back to its earliest texts. It has been generally adopted in Christian worship as a concluding word for prayers and hymns. In Islam, it is the standard ending to Dua (supplication). Common English translations of the word amen include: “Verily,” and “Truly.” It can also be used colloquially to express strong agreement, as in, for instance, amen to that. “ – Wikipedia
I grew up in a faith tradition that did not use the word “amen” much. We did use it at the end of prayers and hymns, but it was not something that we called out when we agreed with something the minister said. It was not something we used in conversation. It was pretty much saved for Sundays. In worship. In closing.
We did not clap in church either. In fact, in most cases, other than hymns or responsive readings, the congregation was silent during church. If there was a performance by a muscian for exaple, we did not clap. We also did not clap for any of the announcements that were made from the pulpit. I don’t think the muscician expected applause during a church service and I am positive that the minister did not expect applause, no matter what he said or did.
I grew up in a Unitarian Church in Minnesota. I have long believed (with very little evidence) that Unitarian churches that are east of the Missisiippi River are more traditional (and by that I mean more traditional in manners, culture and more similar to our Christian roots in terms of ritual). I did not grow up in a church where kids ran around barefoot in Sunday School. We may have been privately decorating our homes with macrame, but the church had a much more serious sensibility. Into the 1970s, my mother and I argued about wearing jeans to church and when I was younger I wore white gloves and an Easter bonnet to church on Easter Sunday.
Hanje in her Easter Bonnet
Our church (which was by the way, just barely east of the Mississippi River) was decorated in heavy carved wood, had a massive pulpit and a crying room for mothers with babies. Our minister and choir members always wore black robes with white collars. When our church was rebuilt after a fire in the mid 1960s, it was more modern and there were skylights, but the pulpit was larger still and the nods to modernism were merely nods. The church service was as it always had been and we knew when to sit down, when to stand up and we never clapped or said “Amen.”
I remember attending a church service in the late 1960s or early 1970s. It was experiemental theater, and very outside of the ordinary for this “High Unitarian” church. It was a rather spectacular performance, and featured, among other things, two actor/acrobats who were literally swinging from the rafters. The stunned and entertained congregants broke into wild applause when the performance ended. Our much beloved and long-time minister rose to his position in the pulpit and said very seriously, “I have been waiting 26 years to hear that..” We stood and gave what may have been the only standing ovation in the history of the church. It was long and it was heartfelt. It never happened again, to the best of my knowledge.
Now I attend a Unitarian Universalist congregation far west of the Mississippi River. We still have not taken up the habit of saying “Amen,” which of course is a loaded word and has a history of use in some of the traditions that our members have left behind. However our church, and I believe other churches have taken up the habit of clapping. Let me say two things: 1) I don’t like it and 2) yes, I do it.
I cling to my tradition of a congregation that shows its approval, its support, its honoring in a silent way. And, yet, I totally understand the impulse to clap. When someone gives a beautiful or heartfelt performance, I feel the urge to clap to thank the performer. When someone shares a tragedy or a triumph and needs support, I feel the uge to clap to give my support. When something wonderful happens in the life of the congregation and the minister announces it, I want to cheer the congregation, participate in the joy, and clapping seems like a way to do that.
What did we do before we applauded in church? I don’t know. We nodded, we smiled, we made a sad face. We talked to the person or people involved after the service was over. I don’t know. I don’t remember, but I do know that I feel uncomfortable every time I clap with the congregation, and I feel awkward every time I refrain from clapping with the congregation.
I remember being young and when I attended some sort of (non-church) performance, I would rate the performance numerically. I would decided it was a five or a seven or a ten or a twelve and this is how many times I would clap. It was a preoursor to my current rating system, I guess. But every time I do clap or don’t clap in church, I think about that. And sometimes I applaud and then I stop after a couple or three claps, because I remember that I don’t like it, that I don’t think it belongs in church.
I can’s see myself becoming someone who shouts “Amen” from the pews, but I wonder if this clapping thing is going to continue. At some point I may feel moved to lead an anti-applause movement.
Hanje Richards 
