Mary in the Episcopal Church

I recently became a member of the Society of Mary, an Anglican devotional society.  The Society was founded with the following objects:

1. To love and honor Mary.
2. To spread devotion to her in reparation for past neglect and misunderstanding, and in the cause of Christian Unity.
3. To take Mary as a model in purity, personal relationships, and family life.

Members of the Society keep a simple Rule of Life, which includes devotions such as the Angelus and Anthems of Our Lady, praying for departed members of the Society, sharing in the Eucharist on principle feasts of Our Lady, and engaging in apostolic and pastoral work.

Over the last couple of years I have been increasingly drawn to greater appreciation and love for the Blessed Virgin Mary in my own devotional life.  I discovered the Society about a year ago, and it was primarily that discovery which inspired me to begin implementing some Marian devotions into my prayer life.  I pray the Angelus daily (it has been helpful that the Lutheran church behind our house rings its chimes at six o'clock every evening!) and usually end Evening Prayer with the seasonally appropriate Marian anthem.  I have only recently become a member because I did not initially realize that the Society, which was formed in the Church of England in 1931, has an American Region.  Incidentally, one of the things I noted in exploring their website was that the Society has cells and wards affiliated with both the Episcopal Church and various North American Anglican churches that have left TEC.  I'm interested to find out more, but such communion among these churches, on any level, is rare these days.  This seems to me an encouraging example, and a demonstration of the Blessed Virgin and devotion to her serving "in the cause of Christian Unity."

In keeping with the objects of the Society, I thought to publish a post about "Mary in the Episcopal Church".  I recently found a pamphlet by that name, published by Forward Movement, as I was looking for resources for a family member who is curious about what Episcopalians believe about the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Of course, stating what Episcopalians believe about anything has, unfortunately, become famously tricky in recent years (though, as I've noted in various previous posts, what Episcopalians believe can be most definitively expounded by reading The Book of Common Prayer, regardless of what idiosyncrasies or aberrations one may find in individuals and parishes).  Accordingly, attempting to explain Mary in the life of the Episcopal Church in a mere eight pages is rather ambitious, but as a brief, introductory pamphlet, I felt it was mostly satisfactory.

In the words of the introduction, the pamphlet "offers a guide to Episcopalians seeking a deeper understanding of Mary as mother, disciple, role model, and sister in Christ."  These roles of Mary provide the headings by which the text is organized.  There are also headings of The Annunciation, The Visitation, Mary and Salvation, Mary and Worship, Society of Mary (Anglican), and Prayers.  I do have two criticisms that I believe are significant: one concerning the section Mary as Mother, and one concerning a noticeable omission.

First, while affirming Mary as mother of Jesus, the pamphlet states that "for Episcopalians, 'Virgin Birth' is not necessarily a term describing a medical condition.  The Bible is the story of God's presence in human history, not a scientific manual."  It then refers to scholarly debate about the meaning of the word "virgin" as it is used in various passages in Scripture.  The text continues: "Whatever one concludes, for the authors of Matthew's and Luke's gospels, portraying Jesus' birth as unique is a way of proclaiming that in Jesus God has done something unprecedented: God has entered human life in an extraordinary way and created a new relationship with us."  While I don't technically disagree with any of the preceding assertions, I find it strange and a bit troubling that the author(s) felt it appropriate to cast doubt on the traditional understanding of the doctrine of the Virgin Birth in a pamphlet of this size and scope.  It seems to me quite outside the realm of the parameters and context that the pamphlet sets for itself.  And while it is true that "virgin" can be a fairly ambiguous term in some Scriptural passages, the same cannot be said for the gospel accounts (e.g. 'How will this be,' Mary asked the angel, 'since I am a virgin?' Luke 1: 34).  I think it is misleading to imply that the gospel writers meant to leave this issue vague or open to various, symbolic interpretations.  And it is undeniably true that the Church, from the earliest centuries down to the present, has affirmed in its official teaching what the gospel writers make unambiguous: that Jesus did not have a human father, but was conceived in (Mary) from the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:21).

The second criticism is not unrelated to the first.  I was surprised that nowhere in the pamphlet was there reference to Mary as Theotokos (the God-bearer, or "Mother of God").  This title is important.  Indeed, it is this understanding of Mary that truly sets her apart from all other saints (and, not incidentally, helps prevent what I would consider a 'low view,' or potentially even unorthodox understanding, of the Incarnation, such as I have just criticized).  It helps us understand that though she is indeed a model as mother, disciple, and sister in Christ, Mary is also much more: she is the one through whom the eternal God chose to be born as truly human, the one through whom the Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14).  This Incarnation is an astounding thing which, once believed and pondered, makes it all but impossible to view the Blessed Virgin Mary as simply one among many saintly examples.  She is not divine, of course, but she is wholly unique as the true mother of our Lord.  And to acknowledge Mary as Theotokos is to confess that Jesus Christ is truly God and truly Man.  In the early Church, there were a number of competing theories that challenged this orthodox understanding of who Jesus was (e.g. that Jesus was simply a great exemplary man, or was more than human but less than God, or was a man "adopted" by God's Spirit at some point in his earthly life, or was not truly human but merely appeared to be so, etc.).  It was in response to these heresies that the great Fourth Ecumenical Council, at Chalcedon in 451 A.D., issued the most definitive confession regarding the person of Christ.  In powerful and wonderful language (an excerpt of which is contained in The Book of Common Prayer, pg. 864) the Council declared:

"Therefore, following the holy fathers, we all with one accord teach men to acknowledge one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, at once complete in Godhead and complete in manhood, truly God and truly man ... as regards his Godhead, begotten of the Father before the ages, but yet as regards his manhood begotten, for us men and for our salvation, of Mary the Virgin, the God-bearer (Theotokos)."

In summary, I am glad that I was able to find a pamphlet to introduce Episcopalians and curious others to the place of Mary in the Episcopal Church.  Overall, taking it for what it is, I found it to be a good and helpful publication.  I am pleased that it provides information about the Society of Mary; hopefully some interested readers of the pamphlet will be encouraged to seek out the Society, which would prove to be a helpful resource for clarifying or correcting any issues that could arise from what I consider to be the pamphlet's shortcomings.  In truth, though, those shortcomings can be adequately addressed by simply turning to the Catechism of the Episcopal Church (BCP pg. 849) wherein we find this beautifully succinct explication of the mystery we confess in the Creed:

Q.  What do we mean when we say that Jesus was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and became incarnate from the Virgin Mary?

A.  We mean that by God's own act, his divine Son received our human nature from the Virgin Mary, his mother.

Peace of Christ.

           

Liturgy Matters: Reflection on a Conversation, and a Plea

The following is an excerpt from "Episcopal Liturgy: A Conversation" published in the Spring 2014 issue of "From the Mountain", the biannual journal-newsletter of The School of Theology at the University of the South in Sewanee, TN.  Seminarian Joe Woodfin interviewed the Rt. Rev. J. Neil Alexander and the Rev. Canon James Turrell, both of the School of Theology, and the Rev. Dr. Louis Weil, of the Church Divinity School of the Pacific.

What do you think is the most interesting emerging trend in the liturgical life of The Episcopal Church today? 

Alexander: There are two trends that appear to be from different sides.  One is a very clear visible movement to get back to the basics: more traditional structures, approaches, and ways of worship.  This trend is primarily being driven by the youth and young adults.  On the other hand, the generation before them is interested in refreshing, renewing, and reshaping parts of some rites, while still being based in a liturgical tradition.  Both are operating, though, from a common root: a desire for worshipers to participate more deeply in the liturgical and sacramental life of the church. 

Turrell: I think it is people pushing the envelope, making structural alterations and not using the Prayer Book liturgy in the name of ministering to postmodern millennials.  There is a tension there between the need for room for liturgical creativity and the fact that the BCP is what we've agreed on as a church.  It's not clear that some of the creative liturgies have the same kind of historical roots as those that drove the 1979 BCP, nor do they have the same kind of trial use and scrutiny. 

Weil: A trend that particularly concerns me is an attitude toward the BCP that sees it as simply one option among many as a basis for public worship.  A phrase that particularly concerns me is, "We need to move outside the box."  Behind this phrase is the image of the BCP as hopelessly restrictive, a limit to "creativity."  I value creativity, and we need genuinely creative liturgical movement.  But to use an image that was shared with me years ago by the late Bishop of Louisiana -- Bishop Noland -- talking about a different issue, he said, "It seems to me that we need to know the melody before we try to do the variations."

 On the one hand, these observations are disheartening, as they represent voices much more experienced and knowledgeable than my own confirming my own worries about current liturgical trends in TEC.  I view the Prayer Book as "a treasure trove that most of our parishes have only begun to mine" (to borrow a phrase of Dean Alexander's from elsewhere in the interview) and as the most distinctive, solid, and unifying feature of a church that often seems to be all over the place.  The BCP grounds us in the catholic faith, saturates us in the Scriptures, shapes us in a way that is authentically Anglican, and is the clearest explication of "the doctrine and discipline" of the Episcopal Church.  If you want to know what Episcopalians believe, spend some time with the Book of Common Prayer.  So, it deeply concerns me to see a significant proportion of our church "pushing the envelope" by disregarding rubrics, and criticizing the Prayer Book as "a limit to 'creativity'" and "simply one option among many."

On the other hand, it is encouraging to hear that these concerns are shared by influential leaders in TEC.  That these are men who are very directly involved in forming the clergy of the church of tomorrow is even more hopeful.  And I also am particularly heartened by Dean Alexander's assertion that the trend for more structure and tradition in reaffirming the essentials of the faith "is primarily being driven by the youth and young adults."  I've had numerous conversations about this very topic, and it does indeed seem to be true (it certainly is for me, and seems to be so for many of my peers in TEC).  Regarding the trends being advocated by "the generation before," even if I may find them unattractive, I would agree that they spring from a sincere desire to see people more meaningfully encounter God in the Church.  So, if a parish full of boomers who came of age in an era when all tradition and authority was viewed with suspicion (or hostility) finds that a folk mass with gender inclusive language and experimental liturgy speaks to their souls and helps them to experience the risen Christ, I'm not going to cry out against it.  Just please don't justify it "in the name of ministering to postmodern millennials."  Or, as Fr. Robert Hendrickson put it a while back when discussing potential hymnal revision, "don't do it for the kids."  And it may sound harsh, but please, please, don't saddle the Episcopal Church of tomorrow with entrenched liturgical reforms (e.g. Prayer Book revision) that divorce us from centuries of the traditions of the faithful and even may (unwittingly) obscure or blunt the transforming power of the gospel itself.  Some of this "refreshing, renewing, and reshaping" seems dated already, and may be found to be almost useless in another twenty or thirty years.  At that time, the torch of leadership will have been passed on by the advocates of such change, but the rest of the Church will have to live with their legacy, for better or worse.

Peace of Christ.
     

A Liturgy for Holy Saturday

Introduction:  For some time, I have been fascinated with theological ideas around Christ's descent to the dead, between the time of His death on the cross and His resurrection.  This was viewed by the ancient Church as a central event in the salvation story, and the idea of Christ's 'harrowing of hell' gained particular prominence during the medieval period.  I have compiled the unauthorized liturgy below, which is simply a modified and slightly expanded form of the Liturgy for Holy Saturday, as contained in the Episcopal Church's Book of Common Prayer, 1979.  This prayer book is the source of both the opening collect and the closing anthem, 'In the midst of life.'  I have changed the Old Testament reading, and some of the psalter.  The Scripture passages are from The Bible in Today's English Version (Good News Bible), and the psalms are from The Book of Common Prayer, 1979.  I found the reading from the apocryphal Book of Nicodemus in the prayer book of the Northumbria Community, Celtic Daily Prayer, which provides this introduction:
"The passage is taken from chapters 15 and 16 of the Book of Nicodemus, one of the manuscripts circulated early in the life of the Christian community.  It is not, of course, accepted as canonical, but is rather in the style of the medieval mystery plays which teach through recounting the stories dramatically.  This section, which may be used as a spur to meditation during the strange period of waiting between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, vividly illustrates the statement in the creeds that Jesus descended into hell, and imagines what happens when He gets there!"
May you have a blessed Easter season!     Peace.

A Liturgy for Holy Saturday

The Opening Collect
O God, Creator of heaven and earth: Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.  Amen.

Psalter and Lessons

Psalm 130
de profundis
Out of the depths have I called to you, O LORD;
LORD, hear my voice;
     let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
If you, LORD, were to note what is done amiss,
     O Lord, who could stand?
For there is forgiveness with you;
     therefore you shall be feared.
I wait for the LORD; my soul waits for him;
     in his word is my hope.
My soul waits for the LORD,
more than watchmen for the morning,
     more than watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, wait for the LORD,
     for with the LORD there is mercy;
With him there is plenteous redemption,
     and he shall redeem Israel from all their sins.

A reading from the Book of Jonah.

At the LORD's command a large fish swallowed Jonah, and he was inside the fish for three days and three nights.  From deep inside the fish Jonah prayed to the LORD his God:
"In my distress, O LORD, I called to you, and you answered me.
From deep in the world of the dead, I cried for help, and you heard me.
You threw me down into the depths, to the very bottom of the sea,
Where the waters were all around me, and all your mighty waves rolled over me.
I thought I had been banished from your presence
And would never see your holy Temple again.
The water came over me and choked me;
The sea covered me completely, and seaweed wrapped around my head.
I went down to the very roots of the mountains,
Into the land whose gates lock shut forever.
But you, O LORD my God, brought me back from the depths alive.
When I felt my life slipping away, then O LORD, I prayed to you,
And in your holy Temple you heard me.
Those who worship worthless idols have abandoned their loyalty to you.
But I will sing praises to you; I will offer you a sacrifice, and do what I have promised.
Salvation comes from the LORD!"

The Word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.

Psalm 24
Domini est terra
The earth is the LORD's, and all who dwell in it,
     the world and all who dwell therein.
For it is he who founded it upon the seas,
     and made it firm upon the rivers of the deep.
"Who can ascend the hill of the LORD?
     and who can stand in his holy place?"
"Those who have clean hands and a pure heart,
     who have not pledged themselves to falsehood,
     nor sworn by what is a fraud.
They shall receive a blessing from the LORD
     and a just reward from the God of their salvation."
Such is the generation of those who seek him,
     of those who seek your face, O God of Jacob.
Lift up your heads, O gates;
lift them high, O everlasting doors;
     and the King of glory shall come in.
"Who is this King of glory?"
     "The LORD, strong and mighty,
     the LORD, mighty in battle."
Lift up your heads, O gates;
lift them high, O everlasting doors;
     and the King of glory shall come in.
"Who is he, this King of glory?"
     "The LORD of hosts,
     he is the King of glory."

A reading of The First Epistle of Saint Peter.

Since Christ suffered physically, you too must strengthen yourselves with the same way of thinking that he had; because whoever suffers physically is no longer involved with sin.  From now on, then, you must live the rest of your earthly lives controlled by God's will and not by human desires.  You have spent enough time in the past doing what the heathen like to do.  Your lives were spent in indecency, lust, drunkenness, orgies, drinking parties, and the disgusting worship of idols.  And now the heathen are surprised when you do not join them in the same wild and reckless living, and so they insult you.  But they will have to give an account of themselves to God, who is ready to judge the living and the dead.  That is why the Good News was preached also to the dead, to those who had been judged in their physical existence as everyone is judged; it was preached to them so that in their spiritual existence they may live as God lives.
The end of all things is near.  You must be self-controlled and alert, to be able to pray.  Above everything, love one another earnestly, because love covers over many sins.

The Word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.

A reading from the Gospel according to Saint John.

After this, Joseph, who was from the town of Arimathea, asked Pilate if he could take Jesus' body.  (Joseph was a follower of Jesus, but in secret, because he was afraid of the Jewish authorities.)  Pilate told him he could have the body, so he went and took it away.  Nicodemus, who at first had gone to see Jesus at night, went with Joseph, taking with him about one hundred pounds of spices, a mixture of myrrh and aloes.  The two men took Jesus' body and wrapped it in linen cloths with the spices according to the Jewish custom of preparing a body for burial.  There was a garden in the place where Jesus had been put to death, and in it there was a new tomb where no one had ever been buried.  Since it was the day before the Sabbath and because the tomb was close by, they placed Jesus' body there.

The Word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.

The following is from the apocryphal Book of Nicodemus.
Satan, the prince and captain of death, said to the prince of hell: 'Prepare to receive Jesus of Nazareth Himself, who boasted that He was the Son of God, and yet was a man afraid of death and said, "My soul is sorrowful even to death."  Besides He did many injuries to me and to many others; for those whom I made blind and lame and those also whom I tormented with several devils, He cured by His word; yea, and those whom I brought dead to thee, He by force takes away from thee.'
Then the prince of hell answering, said, 'Thou saidst to me just now, that He took away the dead from me by force.  They who have been kept here until they should live again upon the earth, were taken away hence, not by their own power, but by prayers made to God, and their almighty God took them from me.  Who then is this Jesus of Nazareth that by his word hath taken away the dead from me without prayer to God?  Perhaps it is the same who took away from me Lazarus, after he had been four days dead, and did both stink and was rotten, and of whom I had possession as a dead person, yet He brought him to life again by His power.'
Satan answering, replied to the prince of hell, 'It is the very same person, Jesus of Nazareth.'
Which, when the prince of hell heard, he said to him, 'I adjure thee by the powers that belong to thee and me, that thou bring Him not to me.  For when I heard of the power of His word, I trembled for fear, and all my impious company were at the same time disturbed.  And we were not able to detain Lazarus, but he gave himself a shake, and with all the signs of malice, he immediately went away from us; and the very earth, in which the dead body of Lazarus was lodged presently turned him out alive.  And I know now that He is almighty God who could perform such things, who is mighty in His dominion, and mighty in His human nature, who is the Savior of mankind.  Bring not therefore this person hither, for He will set at liberty all those whom I hold in prison under unbelief, and bound with the fetters of their sins, and will conduct them to everlasting life.'
And while Satan and the prince of hell were discoursing thus to each other, on a sudden there was a voice as of thunder and rushing of winds, saying, 'Lift up your gates, O ye princes; and be ye lifted up, O everlasting gates -- and the King of Glory shall come in.'
When the prince of hell heard this, he said to Satan, 'Depart from me, and be gone out of my habitations; if thou art a powerful warrior, fight with the King of Glory.  But what hast thou to do with Him?'  And he cast him forth from his habitations.
And the prince said to his impious officers, 'Shut the brass gates of cruelty, and make them fast with iron bars, and fight courageously, lest we all be taken captives.'
But when all the company of the saints heard this they spake with a loud voice of anger to the prince of hell: 'Open thy gates that the King of Glory may come in!'

A Litany

V. I have set the LORD always before me.
R. Because he is at my right hand I shall not fall.
V. My heart, therefore, is glad, and my spirit rejoices.
R. My body also shall rest in hope.
V. For you will not abandon me to the grave.
R. Nor let your holy One see the Pit.

In the midst of life, we are in death;
of whom may we seek for succor,
but of thee, O Lord,
who for our sins art justly displeased.

Yet, O Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty,
O holy and most merciful Savior,
deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death.

Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts;
shut not thy merciful ears to our prayer;
but spare us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty,
O holy and merciful Savior,
thou most worthy Judge eternal.
Suffer us not, at our last hour,
through any pains of death, to fall from thee.

The Lord's Prayer

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with us all evermore.  Amen.

  

Acknowledging Our Wretchedness

Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.  Amen.
~Collect for Ash Wednesday, BCP

I attended the Ash Wednesday liturgy at my church this week.  I make a very conscious effort to live into the Church year, observing the seasonal feasts and fasts, and so I generally look forward to Ash Wednesday.  It's difficult for me to imagine beginning my Lenten journey without this very public and clear inauguration, with its call "to the observance of a holy Lent ... to make a right beginning of repentance..."  And yet it's not an easy service, even for one accustomed to it.  The opening collect of the liturgy doesn't dance around the issue: this is a time of "lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness".  We then read the appointed Old Testament reading from Joel, chapter 2:

Blow a trumpet in Zion, and sound an alarm on my holy mountain!
Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble,
For the day of the LORD is coming; surely it is near.
A day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness ...
"Yet even now," declares the LORD,
"Return to me with all your heart, 
And with fasting, weeping, and mourning;
And rend your heart and not your garments."

Not exactly the way to pack 'em into the pews!  And yet, I do love this liturgy.  It is honest, and it helps me to live more honestly.  It does not tell me what I want to hear, but rather what I know to be true within my own depraved heart and my own weak body.  After the invitation to a holy Lent, the priest prays the following over the ashes to be imposed:

Almighty God, you have created us out of the dust of the earth: Grant that these ashes may be to us a sign of our mortality and penitence, that we may remember that it is only by your gracious gift that we are given everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.

On Ash Wednesday, and throughout Lent, the Church is called to remember that it is only through Christ that we are raised to life in glory.  By ourselves, we are truly wretched, and without hope.  And even now, we who have been born anew in Christ remain here in this vale of tears.  Though we do experience joy in Christ in this life, we still look ever forward to that place where we "shall know fully, just as (we) have been fully known" and where "there shall no longer be any death; there shall no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away."  But we do well to remember that we are not there yet.

I have always been one to look for the beauty in life,and I do believe it is real and ever present, a gift of God to His children.  But due to some life circumstances in my family over this past year, I have become more personally aware that this is also true of pain.  Pain is real, and deep, and ever present in the world.  It touches every human in ways that are often difficult to comprehend, and sometimes there is no healing, at least not in full.  No one is exempt; pain and suffering are as inevitable as death itself.  Christians are not being helpful if we refuse to acknowledge this reality.  (A case in point: K-LOVE Christian radio.  God bless them for the good they do, but honestly I just can only take so much of "the positive alternative".  And it's precisely because it is all positive, all the time; I find that lack of proportion unreal, even (unintentionally) dishonest.  "God is so good and Jesus loves you, so turn that frown upside-down!  No more pain, confusion, or sorrow!"  I'm sorry, but that is not real life, even for the Christian.)  But on Ash Wednesday, the Church does acknowledge this reality.  We acknowledge our sin and failure, our frailty and brokenness; we acknowledge our mortality.

Sorrows are inevitable, but the Christian can embrace suffering, knowing that Christ Jesus has already embraced all sorrow and suffering, even unto death.  In this, we draw near to Him and He draws near to us. And even in Lent we live in joyful hope and expectation, looking forward to Easter morning in forty days, itself but a foretaste of the full joy that awaits us on the Eighth Day, when all will be made new.

But we are not there yet.

Peace, and may you be blessed with a holy Lent.

   

Christ, Have Mercy

Thus says the LORD:
"A voice is heard in Ramah,
Lamentation and weeping.
Rachel is weeping for her children;
She refused to be comforted for her children,
Because they are no more."
~Jeremiah 31:15

In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord;
     my hands were stretched out and did not tire;
     I refused to be comforted.
~Psalm 77:2

Last Friday afternoon, as the details of the Newtown tragedy were being learned, it was difficult to know how to pray.  My wife said that her initial impulse was to pray for peace and comfort for the victims' families.  But that didn't feel right; no, she said, they have to weep and mourn now, to be angry and confused, to give full vent to their grief.  To do otherwise would be both unhealthy and simply wrong.  There is a time for grief, as the Preacher of Ecclesiastes well knew.

The Psalmists knew it also.  They did not hide or explain away their human emotions.  In the Psalms we have the full range of human emotion, the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Often, in the course of a  Psalm we experience a time of confusion, sorrow, or anger that eventually comes through to a conclusion, and there is confirmation of God's faithfulness, and closure.  Psalm 73 is an excellent example of this.  But sometimes, there is no comfort, there is no closure.  Psalm 88 is one continuous, soul-crushing lament, with scant comfort to be found.  The Psalmist begins,

          O LORD, my God, my Savior,
               by day and night I cry to you.
          Let my prayer enter your presence;
               incline your ear to my lamentation.
          For I am full of trouble;
               my life is at the brink of the grave. 

And those are the most hopeful lines in the Psalm.  It pretty much goes downhill from there (way downhill, actually, all the way to the abyss).  By the end of the lament, the Psalmist seems as forlorn as ever.  He closes,

          Your blazing anger has swept over me;
               your terrors have destroyed me;
          They surround me all day long like a flood;
               they encompass me on every side.
          My friend and my neighbor you have put away from me,
               and darkness is my only companion.

Over the weekend, I was looking through the burial rites in The Book of Common Prayer.  It is my opinion that the burial rite, as laid out here in the anthems, the prayers, and the Scripture readings, is a masterwork of liturgy.  I think one would be hard-pressed to find anything that presents the Christian hope so accurately, beautifully, and powerfully.  That said, as I was reading through the prayers and Scriptures in light of the tragedy in Newtown, I confess that I didn't feel very comforted.  I tried, in some small way, to imagine how I would feel as a father whose young child was suddenly, brutally, and senselessly taken from me.  I don't think I would want to hear words of comfort.  I am fairly certain that I would not want anyone telling me that God will comfort those who mourn, that He is good to those who wait for Him, that I should not lose heart, for the things seen are only temporary.  Truthfully, I can hardly begin to imagine the anguish those parents are going through right now.

I think my wife was right when she determined that what she could do, and what all Christians should do, is to be sad.  Rather than to choose not to think about it, or to pray that the pain will simply go away, we should weep with those who weep.  The Apostle Paul counsels the same.  And is this not the central message of the Incarnation, that God in Christ enters our world, becomes truly human that He may fully embrace the human suffering that is an inescapable aspect of our humanity?  At the grave of Lazarus, Jesus wept with those who were weeping.  Looking to Jesus, our exemplar in all things, let us do the same.

But it is still difficult to know how to pray.

Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

   

Praying with Saints and Angels on Michaelmas

Everlasting God, you have ordained and constituted in a wonderful order the ministries of angels and mortals: Mercifully grant that, as your holy angels always serve and worship you in heaven, so by your appointment they may help and defend us here on earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.  Amen.
~Collect for Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels

A short excerpt from Opening the Prayer Book, by Jeffrey Lee.  In Chapter Seven: Liturgy in Action, Lee writes about the intention behind the 1979 Book of Common Prayer to more fully realize the very reality proclaimed by the prayer book's title: namely, that the work, worship, and prayer of the church is to be primarily communal, not private.  It is certainly true that we are often less than resoundingly successful at living truly communal Christian lives, and Lee acknowledges that we often miss the mark.  I myself am aware of critics (and have to an extent shared in their concern) who allege that the variety of options in the current prayer book actually serves to undermine the unity of the church, that the diversity means we are in fact no longer a church of common prayer.  For this reason, I find Lee's assessment fascinating and helpful.  He writes that the 1979 prayer book "may look like prayer books from earlier times, but it is actually a resource library for pastoral liturgy", with the attendant necessity that every individual parish must be actively involved in determining how they will live into that liturgy.  The worshiping community does not simply open to a certain page and read straight through a single, standard set of prayers, hymns, and offerings.  Rather, the format, or "shape" of the liturgy is standard, while many details remain to be determined at the parish level.  Thus, we might say, the local community comes to have a sense of meaningful ownership in the liturgy.  Here is Lee writing about the communal reality of prayer.

We gather for common prayer.  In the last several decades, liturgical reformers within Anglicanism and among Christians in general have sought to reclaim a more vigorous understanding and practice of the communal dimension of Christian prayer.  For the Christian, in a real sense, there is no such thing as private prayer.  In fact, the word "private" shares a root with "deprivation" - privatio in Latin is to deprive.  This is not to deny the importance of times of personal prayer; but even personal prayer is fundamentally ecclesial in nature.  When Christians pray, they do so with the church, not in isolation, even if they are alone:  we pray always "with Angels and Archangels, and with all the company of heaven" (BCP 362). 

Peace, and happy Michaelmas!

     

Thoughts on "Open Communion" Part II

The grace which we have by the holy Eucharist doth not begin but continue life. No man therefore receiveth this sacrament before Baptism, because no dead thing is capable of nourishment. That which groweth must of necessity first live.~Richard Hooker Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity 

A second point  made in the explanatory section of resolution C040 is that "the unfolding of the Divine Liturgy" provides all the spiritual preparation an individual needs in order "to receive the spiritual body and blood of Christ".  While I would be the last one to in any way seek to decrease an appreciation for the great spiritual realities to be encountered within the liturgy, it seems obvious that this statement rationalizes an "open table" at the cost of making baptism superfluous.  If simply experiencing the liturgy provides "whatever an individual needs for examination, repentance and forgiveness" in preparation for partaking of the sacrament that unites us to Christ and one another, then does baptism still serve any meaningful purpose?  Maybe it does, but I think it would certainly be understandable for a newcomer to be confused about baptism.  If the church were to officially endorse a policy of inviting the unbaptized to the Eucharistic table, then the clear message would seem to be that baptism, although preferable, is by no means necessary.  Is that the message we want to send about one of the two great sacraments given by Christ to His church?

Lastly, the resolution argues that "boldness in offering radical hospitality is our calling."  While I agree that the church is called to radical hospitality, I do not think that this means the church should feel compelled to invite the unbaptized to partake of the Eucharist.  The church can be hospitable in many ways: by inviting all to the liturgy; by making all feel welcome not only in the context of the services of the church, but in our everyday social interactions; even by inviting the unbaptized to the Eucharistic rail to receive a blessing.  But to partake of the bread and the cup is to partake of the very Body and Blood of Christ.  Though the specific ways of seeking to theologically articulate this mystery have varied, the church has always held to the belief that in the central act of the Eucharist, the church participates in a sacrament, a mystery in which we mortals are united to God and one another through the sacrifice of Christ.  The belief that this is the reality of the Eucharist is born out by both Scripture and tradition.  There are the plain words of Our Lord in the gospels: "This is My body ... this is My blood" (Matt. 26:26-28; Mark 14:22-24; Luke 22:19-20).  Paul expounds on the significance of these words in his First Letter to the Corinthians, proclaiming that "we who are many are one body; for we all partake of the one bread" (I Cor. 10:16-17), and warning against the real danger of receiving the bread and the cup "in an unworthy manner" (I Cor. 11:20-34).  It seems clear that this is no mere community supper.  The very early traditions of the church confirm this high view of the Eucharist as sacrament.  Saint Ignatius of Antioch (late first, early second century), in his letter to the Philadelphians, writes, "Take great care to keep one Eucharist.  For there is one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ and one cup to unite us by his blood."  Saint Justin Martyr (second century) writes in his Apology:
"This food is called Eucharist with us, and only those are allowed to partake who believe in the truth of our teaching and have received the washing for the remission of sins and for regeneration ... We do not receive these gifts as ordinary food or ordinary drink.  But as Jesus Christ our Savior was made flesh through the word of God, and took flesh and blood for our salvation; in the same way the food over which thanksgiving has been offered through the word of prayer which we have from him - the food by which our blood and flesh our nourished through its transformation - is, we are taught, the flesh and blood of Jesus who was made flesh."
Saint Irenaeus (latter second century) writes, "For as the bread, which comes from the earth, receives the invocation of God, and then it is no longer common bread but Eucharist, consists of two things, an earthly and a heavenly; so our bodies, after partaking of the Eucharist, are no longer corruptible, having the hope of eternal resurrection" (Against Heresies).  And the examples go on and on throughout the history of the church.

Our own Book of Common Prayer, beautifully and powerfully drawn from both the Scriptures and the ancient liturgies of the church, gives clear assent to these teachings.  The "Exhortation" (pg. 316) recalls Paul's admonitions, stating "But if we are to share rightly in the celebration of those holy Mysteries, and be nourished by that spiritual Food, we must remember the dignity of that holy Sacrament."  In our liturgy we pray that "we, and all others who shall be partakers of this Holy Communion, may worthily receive the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son Jesus Christ, be filled with thy grace and heavenly benediction, and made one body with him, that he may dwell in us, and we in him" (Rite I, Eucharistic Prayer I).  Again, "Sanctify (these gifts of bread and wine) by your Holy Spirit to be for your people the Body and Blood of your Son, the holy food and drink of new and unending life in him" (Rite II, Eucharistic Prayer A).  Likewise, in all our post-communion prayers we acknowledge the great significance of the grace we have just received as it relates to our present and future state.  For example, "we thank you ... for assuring us in these holy mysteries that we are living members of the Body of your Son, and heirs of your eternal kingdom" (pg. 366).  I have gone to the effort of pointing out all the preceding points because I believe that resolution C040 is flawed in its premise.  The resolution is fundamentally based on this idea of offering "radical hospitality" to all.  Hospitality certainly is a vital aspect of our calling as a church.  But it is simply not what the Eucharist is about.

The Eucharist is, rather, the sacrament of the Church by which God's people, those who have through baptism died to the world to live to Christ, receive grace to be united to one another and to grow into unity with God in Christ.  I believe that the church should offer radical hospitality to all, but not by rejecting the historic understanding of a central practice of our catholic faith and confusing people about what we believe, which I think would be the inevitable result of passing the "open table" resolution.  I would rather see us presenting ourselves in love as servants to all humankind, while also boldly inviting all to respond to God's call to be led out of darkness and into His marvelous light.  I certainly believe this resolution has been offered out of a sincere desire to be faithful to God's call to embrace all.  But, in my opinion, this is entirely the wrong way to go about it.  It is ironic to me that the resolution mentions "our strivings within ecumenism" as a justification for what it proposes.  It seems to me that many of the decisions of the Episcopal Church in recent decades have done serious (I pray not irreparable) damage to the ecumenical gains of the last century.  I think the passage of resolution C040 would be yet another widening of the breach between ourselves and our brothers and sisters in other branches of the church.  And, though it is clearly not the intention of the proponents of the resolution, I think such a practice would eventually be viewed negatively by those serious seekers outside the church as well.  We want to be a church where people can ask questions, and feel welcome despite doubts and disagreements.  Well and good, but if we think that the way to become such a church is by refusing to articulate what we do believe and make no claims at all, then I think we will continue to see decline in the Episcopal Church.  Such a church would be like to one who wants to engage all in conversation, but ends up having nothing herself to say.

 Almighty and everliving God, source of all wisdom and understanding, be present with those who take counsel in General Convention for the renewal and mission of your Church.  Teach us in all things to seek first your honor and glory.  Guide us to perceive what is right, and grant us both the courage to pursue it and the grace to accomplish it; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.