Book Review: The People’s Work

This book outlines the story of how Christian worship developed since the days of the New Testament.  As a “social history,” this book pays particular attention to the way worship practices (liturgy) were influenced by the culture of the world around, or were a rejection or other sort of interaction with said culture.  It does present some theological background and explanation for some aspects of liturgy, but that is not its main purpose.  You don’t need to be a seminary student to understand this book.

What’s in this book?

To summarize the contents of the book, I’ll list the chapter titles and my brief summary of the content of each.

Chapter 1 – Socially speaking, what kind of group was the Christian assembly?  Pre-existing models for forming a local church include a Jewish Sect, a Household, a Club or Cultic Association, and a School.  But ecclesia (church) as a “Shadow Empire” really brings it all together: the local churches understood themselves as part of a larger universal body or whole.

Chapter 2 – Sacraments and Cult.  The “cultus” of Christianity, especially the Sacraments, have many Jewish and Greco-Roman counterparts to inform their development.

Chapter 3 – Apocalypse and Christian liturgy.  The book of Revelation is a reflection of the liturgy, and the apocalyptic culture of Early Christian worship continued into monasticism.

Chapter 4 – Times, Occasions, and the Communion of Saints. The Calendar and Hours arose for theological and practical reasons; never merely aping or replacing Pagan holidays.

Chapter 5 – Sacred places and Liturgical art in Late Antique Culture.  Sacred space developed in the sharp contrast to Pagan preference, and sacred art developed in sharp contrast to Jewish preference.

Chapter 6 – People and places for different liturgies.  The development of the Orders of Ministry and the standardization of liturgical rites and church architecture were all mutually influencing.

Chapter 7 – Church music through the Carolingian Renaissance.  Music and singing developed in such ways as to combat Paganism and heretics, expand beyond Jewish origins, as well as to beautify worship yet seeking new ways to include the lay people.

Chapter 8 – Vernacular elements in the Medieval Latin Mass.  Worship in local languages was frequently rediscovered through new hymns or carols or other resources.  Protestants only continued that practice; they didn’t invent it.

Chapter 9 – The Medieval liturgical calendar.  The liturgical calendar was developed with few pre-Christian influences remaining.

Chapter 10 – The Eucharistic Body and the Social Body in the Middle Ages.  Beliefs and practices surrounding Holy Communion impacted the social bonds of Medieval European society.

Chapter 11 – The dissolution of the Social Body in the Reformation Communion. The Eucharist lost its place of social centrality during the Reformation, especially to the State.

Chapter 12 – Death here and life hereafter in the Middle Ages and Reformation.  Medieval and Reformation doctrines and liturgies concerning death and burial were among the most radical changes of their day.

Chapter 13 – The ecclesiastical captivity of marriage.  Marriage long held a mixed secular and sacred position, and in the Reformation the Church and State were emphasized by different traditions.

Chapter 14 – Liturgy and confessional identity.  Liturgy, as the performance of theology through worship, was a critical tool for establishing the Reformation or Counter-Reformation.

Chapter 15 – Popular devotions, Pious communities, and Holy Communion.  Popular (or “paraliturgical”) devotions, hymn singing, Pietist meeting groups, and attitudes toward receiving Communion in the 17th-18th centuries revealed a growing sense of emotionalism and individualism.

Chapter 16 – Worship Awakening.  Revivalism in the USA, largely driven by culture, codified the emotional and individualist notion of worship and made it consumerist (what I get out of it, rather than what we put into it).

Chapter 17 – Liturgical Restoration.  The Enlightenment beginning in the mid-1700’s made the liturgy rationalistic and asserted more state control over the church.  Liturgical restoration has been slowly ongoing ever since.

Chapter 18 – Liturgical Renewal.  Liturgical renewal is a movement that has focused on the congregation’s participation in worship… often controversial but ecumenically successful.

Good points about the book

Whether you’re a Roman Catholic well-established in the Mass and the Hours and the Rosary, a Pentecostal who can’t imagine a legitimate worship service without speaking in tongues and prophetic utterances, or anywhere in between, there is a tendency to take one’s worship tradition for granted.  It’s not just about “why” we worship the way we do, there’s also the question of “how” our tradition ended up the way it did.  The Prayer Book I use wasn’t around in the 13th century.  The way your church baptizes people isn’t identical to how the Early Church baptized people.  This book traces the development of many aspects of worship – sacraments, ministry, music, calendar and seasons, and others – through the course of history.

This book’s 18 chapters are also organized by topic and arranged chronologically, so if there’s something in particular you want to read about, it’s pretty easy to dive in to the chapter(s) you need, and skip the rest.

Frank Senn wrote this book in an informal manner.  He doesn’t use more technical terms than he has to.  And when he does use them (especially Latin words like gradual or sanctus) he explains them right away.

Bad points about the book

However, once a technical term has been defined, Senn feels free to use that term without re-explanation through the rest of the book.  If you’re reading each chapter all the way through, this won’t be a problem, but if you come to this book aiming to study the Protestant and Revivalist worship culture of America, you may run up against a few references to material in earlier chapters without explanation or footnote.  Not that that’s a terrible thing, it just makes it harder for someone new to the subject to cherry-pick their way through this book.

My only disappointment with The People’s Work is the Epilogue.  There he briefly introduces the “emergent church” movement and offers a brief definition of the “liturgical retrieval” that they tend to practice.  And then, without much explanation or argumentation, he asserts his opinion that the future of Christianity in the Global South is going to be characterized by emergent liturgical retrieval.  It’s an oddly incongruous conclusion to draw after spending most of 18 chapters tracing a continuous development of worship practices for nearly 2,000 years.

The ratings in short:

Accessibility: 5/5
The book is very well organized, dealing in liturgical topics and historical periods with remarkable unity.

Devotional Usefulness: N/A
It’s more of a history than a liturgical-insight source.

Reference Value: 4/5
This is not explicitly Anglican, but its attention to all of Christian history is pretty helpful.

Overall Thoughts

If you’ve never thought much about worship practices before, this is a good first book to pick up on the subject.  If you think you know a lot about worship, but haven’t read many (or any) books on the subject, this is still a good first book to delve into.  The author is an attentive scholar, careful to keep his opinions out of the way (until the epilogue), giving a fair hearing to Roman Catholics, Revivalists, Presbyterians, Anglicans, and Pentecostals alike.

If you really want to dig into the subject of liturgy and worship, this is an excellent resource for giving you the scope of Christian worship without getting bogged down in too many technical details.  Pair this with a book that explores liturgy from a theological/spiritual perspective, such as Liturgical Theology by Simon Chan, and you’ll have yourself a fantastic start into understanding the basics of why worship takes place the way it does.

Introduction to Advent

With Advent just over a week away at this point, let’s have a proper introduction to the season.  This is the first of about twelve videos I’m going to make about the different parts of the church year.

The season of Advent begins the church year with a focus on the advent (or arrival) of Jesus, both in as a baby at Christmas and as a glorious king upon his awaited return. Our place, in response to both those themes, is to prepare and make ready.
For further reading:
Subject Index:
* 01:10 Introduction to Advent
* 01:29 Major Themes
* 07:13 Historical features
* 12:19 Walk-through with the 2019 BCP

What the Minister says to the Congregation at the Communion

Finally, after the Communion prayers have all been said, the celebrant addresses the congregation.  Apart from the quick bid to say the Lord’s Prayer, this is the first time the priest or bishop actually speaks to the congregation in this half of the liturgy.

It is common practice, I’ve noticed, for priests to look up at the congregation during the Words of Institution – “Take, eat, this is my body…” etc.  This is absolutely inappropriate.  Even if you’re a highchurchman who favors the theology of the priest serving in persona Christi (in the person of Christ), those words are still not for the priest to say to the people.  The Words of Institution are part of the prayers recited by the celebrant at the altar; to look up at the congregation is to defy the prayerfulness of the entire paragraph, and cause confusion for everyone involved.  If you, as a celebrant, have trouble with this, consider celebrating ad orientem instead of versus populum, as if you’re leading the congregation in prayer rather than bartending for them.  I have a brief explanation of the ad orientem posture in the “Looking East” section of this sermon from a few years ago.

Anyway, it is at the end of the prayers that the celebrant does speak to the congregation.  In our 2019 Prayer Book there are two such points: an invitation to the whole congregation, and the words spoken while actually administering the bread and wine to each communicant.  The content and history of these words is important for us to understand, especially we ministers who read them.

In the first prayer book, of 1549, the following words were to be spoken during the administration:

The body [blood] of our Lord Jesus Christ which was given for thee; preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.

This suggested a strongly realist theology of the Sacrament, which the Swiss-influenced English Reformers were a little wary about, and so when the next prayer book came along in 1552, these words were changed to something more spiritualist.

Take and eat this, in remembrance that Christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith, with thanksgiving.

Drink this in remembrance that Christ’s blood was shed for thee, and be thankful.

It seems that this was a pendulum swing too far in the opposite direction, however, as this language could very easily indicate the absenteeist theology of the likes of Ulrich Zwingli.  (For a review of the terms realist and spiritualist and absenteeist in this context, see this summary I wrote a while back.)  So, in subsequent books, the high view of 1549 and low view of 1552 kind of got mashed together.  This is what the ministers say in the 1662 Prayer Book:

The Body of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was given for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life: Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith with thanksgiving.

The Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was shed for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life: Drink this in remembrance that Christ’s blood was shed for thee, and be thankful.

This is a jarring move for a lot of people.  Those of a Lutheran or other such high church persuasion regarding the Sacrament are going to favor the first half of the statement, and those of a Calvinist or other such low church persuasion are going to favor the second half.  But this is an instance where the Anglican Way is a via media between Wittenburg and Geneva.  That’s not always how things work for us,  but this is one of those areas where it does.

Nowadays, in the 2019 Prayer Book, there is a little variety in what the priests might say to the congregation at this point in the liturgy.  First we have a pair of invitations which we may say (but don’t have to).

The gifts of God for the people of God.  [Take them in remembrance that Christ died for you and feed on him in your hearts by faith, with thanksgiving.]

or

Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world.  Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.

The former is kind of a summary of the classic 1662 mash-up, with the longer 1552 part made optional.  The second invitation is a mash-up of John 1:29 and Revelation 19:9, which might favor a high-church theology in the way they’re used, but by bringing in the context of the eschatological wedding feast it takes some focus away from the question of what’s going on with the communion elements and shifts it to the act of participation.  And that, I think, is something that people of all churchmanships can get behind.  And in my localized experience, that line has put more smiles on the faces of my flock than the first invitation.

All that is optional, however.  It’s common practice in modern liturgy to use one of those invitations, and it’s especially helpful in a large congregation where the communion line can make people wait a while – hearing such words before they get up and again when they receive.

At the altar rail itself, or wherever the people receive the bread and wine, this what the ministers say:

The Body of our Lord Jesus Christ, [which was given for you, preserve your body and soul unto everlasting life. Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for you, and feed on him in your heart by faith with thanksgiving].

The Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, [which was shed for you, preserve your body and soul unto everlasting life. Drink this in remembrance that Christ’s blood was shed for you, and be thankful].

That is the Anglican Standard Text (on page 120), and you’ll notice that it is identical to the 1662 Prayer Book except “thee” has become “you” and the second (low-church theology) half has been made optional.  Some may note that this is an unfair emphasis on the shorter, high-church first half.  Others may rebut that the low church phraseology is also in the first Invitation, and therefore the minister has two opportunities to say it.

Meanwhile, in the Renewed Ancient Text (page 136), the same Invitations are supplied, but the words at the administration are different:

The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven.

The Blood of Christ, the cup of salvation.

This is a holdover from the 1979 Prayer Book where diversity of options and simplicity of statements were the rules of the day.  To my slight embarrassment, I admit this is what I still say when distributing Communion, despite my preference for the historic liturgy.  It’s shorter and easier to memorize, and I’m afraid that if I try to use the first, Standard, text, I’ll mess it up.  But I’m working on it.

Plus, to be fair, if you use the first Invitation in full, then you’ve provided the historic words of administration already.  So our tradition isn’t lost necessarily, just slightly rearranged, and that’s not the worst thing in the world!

It also should be noted that the Additional Directions on page 141 state that:

The words used when the Bread and Cup are given to the communicants may be taken from either Eucharistic Text.

This option to exchange elements from the Anglican Standard and the Renewed Ancient Texts applies to just about every element that diverge between them, which is helpful for those who are concerned about “doing it right” in the midst of learning a different rite, as well as for emphasizing the essential unity of these two rites, as I’ve argued before.

So, for those of you who have the charge of celebrating the Eucharist, take note of the words you say to the congregation, both when administering the bread and wine and when giving the general invitation forward.  Make sure that your words are not careless announcements, but the theologically rich words they’re meant to be.

And those of you who hear these words from the pew and/or when opening your hands and mouth for the Sacrament, make sure you open your ears as well.  These are not idle words to keep the ministers busy or just to fill space, but instructive statements of faith!

Was there really such thing as a Scottish-American Communion liturgy?

Tomorrow is the commemoration of the Consecration of Samuel Seabury, the first American Bishop.  One of the popular stories about the origins of Anglicanism in this country is that he was ordained by the Scottish Episcopal Church in exchange for the use of their Communion liturgy in our new province.

It turns out that this story is not only oversimplified, but exaggerated to inaccuracy.  As this very informative recent article by Drew Keane reports, the agreement was between three Scottish bishops and Samuel Seabury, who was representing Episcopalian clergymen in Connecticut.  So, at the first, there was nothing binding upon the American Episcopal Church, as it didn’t exist yet.  And secondly, the Scottish bishops did not demand or require anything of Seabury or those in his cure, but rather, simply encouraged him to consider the Scottish liturgies.  Yes, “liturgies” in the plural.  There was a standard Communion text from 1637, a standard reprinting from 1743, and there was another form in circulation by 1764.  And they’re all slightly different, in terms of the precise order of service.  The link above includes a handy table to line up those three against the first American Prayer Book of 1789.  We learn here two critical things:

  1. The “Scottish form” of the liturgy was not standardized at this time, making the common “Scots-American” label for a particular Order of Communion somewhat of a contrivance.
  2. There was no particular deal or obligation put upon the Americans by the Scots.

We American Anglicans do owe gratitude to the Scottish Church, of course, and there are traces of Scottish features that have been preserved in the American tradition.  But the way we sometimes speak of it can be rather overstated.  The English Prayer Book of 1662 was still the strongest standard by which the Scottish and American liturgies were measured.

Thankfully, this correction does not require me to retract any significant errors on this blog so far; I’ve only mentioned the “Scottish connection” once before, when reviewing the 1928 Prayer Book, and didn’t go too far down the rabbit trail.  Our exploration of the epiclesis (invocation) may also be further informed by Keane’s article.

All that to say, go read “Seabury and the Scottish Liturgy” by Drew Keane.  Here’s the link again: http://northamanglican.com/seabury-and-the-scottish-liturgy/

Readings Review & Planning Propers 11/11

What we’re doing on this blog on Mondays is looking back and forth at the Daily Office readings (or lessons) so we can better process together what the Scriptures are saying, and list the recommended Propers for the Communion or Antecommunion service for each day of the week.

Readings Review

Last week: 2 Kings 18-22, 2 Chronicles 30-33, Acts 9:32-13:12, Isaiah 16-22, Mark 11-14
This week: 2 Kings 23-25, Judith 4, 8, 9-10, Acts 13-16, Isaiah 23-29, Mark 15-16, Luke 1-2

You may have seen something like this kicking around Facebook or other social media:

Adventwith-Lukea4[1]

It’s a neat idea, as Luke has 24 chapters, so if you read one chapter a day starting on December 1st, you’ll cover the whole story of Jesus just in time for Christmas.  If there was no such thing as a Daily Office, I would wholeheartedly endorse this sort of thing.  But, of course, we have a Daily Office, with a Daily Lectionary, that takes the entire year into account.  And so, reading a full chapter at a time is a bit excessive, especially for chapters 1, 2, and 20-24, which are quite long.  So instead we’re starting Luke on November 12th and finishing on December 31st.

By way of an interesting aside in version 2 (of 3) of this daily office lectionary, Christmas Day’s reading for Evening Prayer did not have a special Christmas-related reading, resulting in a reading on the passion and suffering of Jesus on CHRISTMAS DAY itself.  That struck me as inappropriate, and enough other people complained that we got the reading for Christmas Day fixed to be about Christmas in the final version.

Meanwhile, in Morning Prayer, we’re finishing 2 Kings and moving on to the deuterocanonical books, commonly called apocrypha.  Unlike historic Anglican lectionaries, we’re not getting the full story of Judith, just selections from that book to get the highlights of the story in 10 parts instead of 16.  An even stranger disappointment: the book of Tobit is omitted entirely from this lectionary – perhaps a first in Prayer Book history.  Nevertheless, enjoy what we’ve got.  The fall of Jerusalem, in progress today and tomorrow, is a dramatic turning point in biblical history, and sets up a very different situation for the later prophets and the intertestamental period – no longer are God’s people a distinct country.  A nation, or people-group, sure, but complete political autonomy under their own Davidic King is gone forever.  As we get into Judith later this week, and Ecclesiasticus (Sirach) and Wisdom after that, that backwards-looking sentimentality for the fullness of Israel becomes quite a noticeable trend, accompanied with a growing forward-looking hopefulness for full restoration.  A restoration we see only in Christ!

Planning Propers

This is the week of Proper 27 (or 21st after Trinity in the traditional calendar), so keep in mind that the historic Prayer Book default is that a mid-week Eucharist will repeat the Collect & Lessons (the propers) for yesterday.  Otherwise, we recommend…

  • Monday 11/11 = Veterans/Remembrance Day or St. Martin (bishop)
  • Tuesday 11/12 = Votive*
  • Wednesday 11/13 = Votive
  • Thursday 11/14 = Votive
  • Friday 11/15 = Votive
  • Saturday 11/16 = Votive or St. Margaret

* A Votive is a “Various Occasion” (page 733 in the BCP 2019).  The traditional appointments are Holy Trinity on Sunday, Holy Spirit on Monday, Holy Angels on Tuesday, of the Incarnation on Wednesdays, of the Holy Eucharist on Thursdays, the Holy Cross on Fridays, and of the Blessed Virgin Mary on Saturdays.

Book Review: Worship Old & New

Welcome to Saturday Book Review time!  On most of the Saturdays this year we’re looking at a liturgy-related book noting (as applicable) its accessibility, devotional usefulness, and reference value.  Or, how easy it is to read, the prayer life it engenders, and how much it can teach you.

Worship Old & New by Robert E. Webber is, in some circles, a modern classic.  Webber (1933-2007) was a respected American theologian and known particularly for his work in the Convergence Movement, which is the ideology of combining catholic, evangelical, and charismatic spirituality together into a cohesive whole.  In short, he was a leading thinker behind the Three Streams model which was a huge fad in Anglican circles, though (I think?) is finally quieting down.  I was a fan of the Three Streams idea when I first heard of it – as most young people tend to be fans of the, exciting, promising trends, but as early as 2012 I started to have my doubts.  Now, seven years later, I’m comfortably opposed to the Three Streams model, and have even mentioned here briefly in the past that it smacks of broad church liberalism, and doesn’t ultimately produce the coherent discipleship one might have hoped for.

I open with that rabbit trail because what you read in Worship Old & New is exactly the mindset behind the Convergence Movement and Three Streams ecclesiology.  Citing Hippolytus and leaning heavily on the now-controversial work of Gregory Dix, Webber argues for a “shape” to the liturgy (primarily the Communion service) which provides structure for all, and walks through various traditions across historical and traditional lines.  He is explicitly critical of medieval liturgy, denigrating the use (or abuse!) of symbol and sign during that period of history, and argue that it was increasingly twisted from its proper meaning.  While there is much to be said about medieval excesses, his hostility to that period is not adequately backed up because:

  1. Lutheran and Prayer Book liturgies are very much informed by their medieval forebears.  Yes, some Reformers went all-out in rewriting the liturgy, but many of us only required gentle trimmings of the fat, rather than wholesale revolution.
  2. He begins the “medieval” excesses at Constantine, which is patently ridiculous when in the world of dogmatics and creedal theology we look at the 4th and 5th centuries as a veritable golden age of sound normative teaching!  Consider Webber’s own words:

Gradually, however, beginning with the Constantinian era, worship changed by the increasing addition of ceremony and the subtle influence of the mystery religions.  These new emphases became more extreme in the medieval period.  Although the basic structure and content of worship remained continuous with the past, the meaning of worship for both the clergy and the laity underwent some major changes.  Worship became a “mystery” in which God was made present (an epiphany).  This was accomplished through and allegorical view of the Mass and the doctrine of the bodily presence of Jesus in the bread and wine.  In this way the Mass assumed a character of a sacrifice and was celebrated for the benefit of both the living and the dead (creating a multiplicity of Masses and other abuses).

To be fair, this is not the lynchpin of the entire book.  But if this is the kind of scholarship he’s doing, and he’s willing to paint over history with so broad a brush stroke that (for example) even the Lutherans don’t count as reformers, I’m going to have to hesitate to trust his analysis of other periods of history and interpretation of the liturgy.  He looks too closely at two Early Church documents (by Hippolytus and Justin Martyr) and the late-20th-century milieu of change, and seems to re-shape everything in the middle according to the agenda he derives from the two extremes, rather than tracing the actual history and development along the way, and I think that causes him to miss out on a great deal of clarity and correction.

Another irksome feature of this book is that when it references “The Book of Common Prayer” it only means the American 1979 book.  He is either ignorant of prayer book tradition before the radical changes of the 1970’s, or he is oversimplifying things for his readers.  In either case, that makes this book significantly less helpful for an Anglican reader.

It’s not all bad, though.  His sections on biblical backgrounds of worship are quite refreshing for those brought up in non-denominational settings where worship is never really considered, just “done”.  It may also be refreshing for those who grew up in dry liturgical settings and similarly took worship for granted and never connected the dots.  Webber won’t make anyone an Anglican with this book, but he can engender liturgical awareness.

The ratings in short:

Accessibility: 4/5
The book is very well organized, complete with introduction and summary paragraphs bookending each chapter, making a quick synopsis of its contents very easy to ascertain.  The only reason this isn’t a 5 is because it can be so dry at times.

Devotional Usefulness: N/A
The insights of this book are a mixed bag and might not necessarily improve your engagement with the liturgy.

Reference Value: 3/5
In terms of liturgical formation, this book stands more in a “pre-Anglican” state, more useful for showing non-liturgical evangelicals how they could think about worship differently.  If you’re committed to Anglicanism, the perspective and information are too generic to be of much help growing within our tradition.

Recommendation?  Don’t buy this for an Anglican, it will only water down their understanding of liturgy.  But if you know someone in the free church tradition who wants or needs an eye-opener into what they’re missing, this book is a fine option for that.  Its strength for them is also its weakness for us: it won’t ruffle very many feathers because it never gets specific enough to make hard stances on anything.  Worship Old & New exists to transform chaotic generic evangelicalism into orderly generic evangelicalism.  Actual specific traditions or denominations need not apply.

A Pre-Advent Hymn: Behold! the mountain of the Lord

Recently we discussed the transitional features of the month of November, how All Saints Day kicks off a sequence of Sundays in calendars both old and new, that increasingly anticipate the season of Advent.  You can revisit that here if you need.  Today I thought I’d put theory into example – let’s look at a hymn that fits into this time of year.

Behold! the mountain of the Lord is not a hymn that’s super famous, as far as I know.  I didn’t pick it with any special interest in mind; it’s simply the hymn appointed for Friday in the week of Proper 26 in this Customary’s daily hymnody plan.  As you get toward the back of most hymnals (at least Anglican ones), you start getting into the eschatological stuff – church triumphant, kingdom of God, sabbath rest… themes like that which play perfectly into this season’s thematic features.  So that’s where this hymn comes in.

Behold! the mountain of the Lord
In latter days shall rise
On mountain-tops above the hills,
And draw the wond’ring eyes.

To this the joyful nations round,
All tribes and tongues, shall flow;
“Up to the hill of God,” they’ll say,
“And to his house we’ll go.”

This is a pretty close approximation of Isaiah 2:2-3 and Micah 4:1-2.  As I recall, Micah picked up a lot of Isaiah’s themes and ideas in his prophetic writings, so the close similarities between those two texts should be no surprise.  Let’s continue.

The beam that shines from Zion shill
Shall lighten ev’ry land;
The King who reigns in Salem’s tow’rs
Shall all the world command.

Among the nations he shall judge;
His judgments truth shall guide;
His scepter shall protect the just,
And quell the sinner’s pride.

Micah 4:3 and Isaiah 2:4 are particular inspirations behind these two stanzas.  Curiously, this hymn is so faithful to the biblical text that it never actually names the King as Jesus for us.  Hopefully that much is obvious to the singer.  The section header, KINGDOM OF GOD, in this hymnal, helps direct our interpretation of these words too – we’re directed to look past earthly-kingdom fulfillments of the Prophets’ words, and look to the heavenly kingdom that Christ is inaugurating even now in his Church.

No strife shall rage, nor hostile feud
Disturb those peaceful years;
To plowshares men shall beat their swords,
To pruning hooks their spears.

No longer hosts*, encount’ring hosts,
Shall crowds of slain deplore;
They hang the trumpet in the hall,
And study war no more.

Come then, O house of Jacob! come
To worship at his shrine;
And, walking in the light of God,
With holy beauties shine.

Wrapping up with adaptations of Isaiah 2:4-5 and Micah 4:3 and 5, we celebrate the great peace of heaven in the age to come.

In a culture that is much better at writing and singing celebratory Christmas music, hymns like these, which draw out forward-looking Advent themes, are very helpful for us.  Lyrics like these are meditations on the Last Things, the Christian goal, the telos** of creation.  And that’s a great way to get into the Advent spirit!

* hosts means armies
** telos is Greek for end (in the sense of a purpose, or goal)

The Prayer of Humble Access

We now come to one of the most cherished and beloved prayers in the Prayer Book tradition: The Prayer of Humble Access.  If your training in Anglican liturgy is primarily via the 1979 Prayer Book or another such modern book or text, you may not be very familiar with this prayer.  This was the case over on Twitter a couple weeks ago, resulting in a brief-but-intense #humblegate incident complete with penance.  So let’s dive in and see what this prayer is all about.

The text of the prayer in our 2019 prayer book is:

We do not presume to come to this your table, O merciful Lord,
trusting in our own righteousness,
but in your abundant and great mercies.
We are not worthy so much as to gather up
the crumbs under your table;
but you are the same Lord
whose character* is always to have mercy.
Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord,
so to eat the flesh of your dear Son Jesus Christ,
and to drink his blood,
that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body,
and our souls washed through his most precious blood,
and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us.  Amen.

The only major difference between the wording here and the traditional wording is the word “character”, marked above with an asterisk*.  The classical prayer book word is “property” – it is a property of God that he has mercy.  Earlier drafts of our prayer book used a different term and phrase there; “character” is a better update to “property” than our previous draft “who always delights in showing mercy.”  In that draft, mercy is God’s delight, but the original (and now also 2019) text identifies mercy as property of God’s very nature or character.  It is the same as how we speak of God’s love – God is not simply loving, rather, God is love.  God does not just delight in showing mercy, God’s character is to have mercy.  If you think on that for a moment, you will find this a very comforting and moving reality.

Lots of Scripture references went into this prayer.  These are the main ones I know of:

  • Exodus 34:6-7 = God’s character of mercy and forgiveness
  • Daniel 9:18 = we pray not in our righteousness but in God’s mercy
  • Matthew 15:27 = dogs eat the crumbs from their master’s table
  • John 6:47-58 = Jesus’ flesh & blood are to be eaten & drunk for eternal life
  • John 17:20-26 = that we may be in Christ, and Christ in us
  • 1 Corinthians 10:14-18 = partaking in the bread & wine is partaking in Christ

Three Challenges

One of the challenges to which some people are probably responding negatively today, especially without previous exposure to this prayer, is the strong realist language: “Grant us so to eat the flesh of your dear son… and to drink his blood.”  We must remember, though, that just as there are different theological interpretations of our Lord’s words of institution and of his Bread of Life discourse, so too will this prayer take on different tones according to one’s theology.   A Lutheran can see this as an affirmation of the Real Presence – Christ’s human and divine natures actually present in the bread and wine.  A Calvinist an see this as an affirmation of the Real Spiritual Presence – Christ’s body and blood actually communicated to us sacramentally as we receive the bread and wine.  So there is no problem with this prayer from either end of the churchmanship spectrum.

Another question that might also get raised is the “effects” of the bread/body and wine/blood of Christ.  A simplistic reading of this prayer might indicate that Christ’s body cleanses our bodies, and his blood cleanses our souls.  But that is not the intention of this prayer – the historic belief has always been that Christ’s body and blood go together, just as any other real creature.  It’s like talking about the Father creating, the Son redeeming, and the Spirit sanctifying – all three persons of the Trinity actually do all three of those things… there’s a convenient prominence of different Persons with different roles, but never an actual division between them.  Similarly, this prayer affirms, poetically, that the body and blood of Christ together sanctify our entire being – body and soul.  (Honestly, though, I’ve never actually heard anyone confused about this before.  I explain this only because I imagine someone somewhere has probably wondered about it before.)

One misunderstanding and mistreatment of this prayer that I have heard about, however, concerns its penitential tone.  Some people claim this prayer is extraneous in light of the confession and absolution already offered in the liturgy.  Such a claim is to miss the point of this prayer.  This is not a confession of sin, this is an acknowledgement of unworthiness.  Even with our sin absolved we are still unworthy participants at the Lord’s Table.  Even with the grace of divine forgiveness upon us, “blessed are they who are invited to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb” (Rev. 19:9).  Furthermore, some of the language in the prayer – “that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us” – is echoed in the 8th paragraph of the prayer of consecration, plus the language of unworthiness is echoed in the 9th paragraph of the same.  So this prayer is integrally connected to the rest of the communion liturgy.

A Wandering Prayer for Wandering Pilgrims

Our prayer book (I think for the first time?) puts this prayer in the mouths of the whole congregation.  Some users of the 1928 Prayer Book may have already started using it as a congregational prayer, in violation of the rubrics (that’s just a story I heard, no idea how true it is), but especially because of its thematic and linguist connections to the consecration this is a great prayer for all the people to pray together, because it gets everyone involved in some form of eucharistic piety.  In pre-modern times, preparation for receiving Holy Communion was a big deal both for Protestants and Papists alike.  Now that Communion is received weekly by the majority of (liturgical) Christians, we tend to kind of take it for granted, and many of us have lost a sense of preparation and piety for the Sacrament.  This prayer is a helpful, powerful, and beautiful treasure to that end.

But since I’ve mentioned its history of being spoken only by the priest, let’s now look at its placement in the liturgy.  It’s something of a “wandering prayer” in the history of the Prayer Books.  In the 1662 Prayer Book, the Prayer of Humble Access was said by the Priest immediately between the Sanctus and the Prayer of Consecration.  The language echoes I mentioned above, then, connected to one of the two options to pray after the reception of Holy Communion, providing a before & after dynamic when it comes to the theme of unworthy reception.

The American Prayer Book of 1928 moved this prayer after the Consecration and Lord’s Prayer, immediately before the Ministration of Communion.  That is essentially where it is placed in the 2019 book too, the only visual difference being that where the 1928 book says a hymn may be sung, the 2019 book prints the Agnus Dei as an anthem that may be sung or said after this prayer and before the Ministration.  So, functionally, 2019 and 1928 are doing the same with the Prayer of Humble Access.

I’ve heard of other churches in the Anglican Communion doing other things with this prayer, like lining it up alongside the Confession, Absolution, and Comfortable Words, but that’s just playing into its penitential tone and missing its eucharistic piety and preparation.  Perhaps such a misunderstanding could be due to a misuse of the original 1549 prayer book, where this prayer follows immediately after the Comfortable Words, but in that book the Confession/Absolution/Comfortable Words sequence took place after the Consecration and Lord’s Prayer and Fraction!  So in actuality, the 1549 placed this prayer directly before the reception of the Sacrament, much like the 1928 and 2019.

It was in the Prayer Book of 1552 that the Prayer of Humble Access moved earlier, between the Sanctus and Consecration, where it then remained, through to 1662.

But it’s optional…

Last of all, it must be noted that the 2019 Prayer Book says this prayer “may be said“, meaning it’s optional.  This is largely a concession to the 1979 fan club; in light of historic Anglican tradition we should always say it.  Some people have suggested we pray it during penitential seasons like Advent and Lent.  That is bad advice, because that sends the message that this is primarily a penitential prayer, and it’s not!  It’s an expression of eucharistic piety, not penitence as such.

Also, from an ecumenical standpoint, it should be noted that the Roman Rite has a different (shorter, less elegant) sort of prayer of humble access.  The wording may have changed over time, but the one I was familiar with in the mid 2000’s was:

Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof; but speak the word only, and my soul shall be healed.

This prayer draws from the words of the faithful centurion whose servant was healed by Jesus’ word, rather than actual visit and contact.  And it communicates the same basic premise: we are unworthy of God’s presence (regardless of how recently absolution has been pronounced) and approach him only by his grace.

So, in short, yes, pray this prayer at every Communion service.

And if your church doesn’t, and you’re not the celebrant, then pray it silently yourself before receiving the Sacrament.  This is our tradition, this is our theology.

All Saints’ to Advent

Autumn is my favorite time of year.  Autumn in New England, in terms of nature’s visual beauty, can’t be beat.  September has my ordination anniversary, and October my birthday.  And then there’s November with All Saints’ Day and Thanksgiving, and the excitement for Advent to begin after that.  And in the liturgical calendar, November is also an interesting time of year.  Both the traditional calendar as well as the modern anticipate the transition from Trinitytide to Advent in the last couple weeks (or last few weeks) before Advent.

In the traditional calendar (assuming Trinitytide is long enough on a given year) you’ve got the culmination of the massive discipleship course on the 24th Sunday, where a focus on absolution and perfection can be found.  The “last epiphany” often chimes in there too, making a connection to the return of Christ; and the Last Sunday before Advent translates that into one last kick in the seat to get on with good works as the next season is about to start.  Thus, on the heels of All Saints’ Day, the traditional calendar points us in the direction of sainthood, bringing the liturgical year full circle.

In the modern calendar (and the Revised Common Lectionary family), the context of what’s going is extremely different, but the effect at this stage is actually very similar.  Trinitytide is not a discipleship course in the modern lectionaries, but rather a survey through the Gospels and Epistles, cycling through different books in each of its three years.  Towards the end of the season, though, the gospels reach the last parables and teachings of Jesus, bringing us to the final calls to holiness (like the parable of the Sheep and the Goats in Matthew 25) and the great eschatological discourse.  Christ the King Sunday, in its modern position directly before Advent, plays well into this scheme, transitioning the modern Trinitytide into the season of Advent.

(Yes, there are those who argue, quite fairly, that Christ the King is primarily supposed to be a feature of Ascensiontide instead, but that’s a debate for another time.)

Advent, then, both old and new, begins with the same end-times emphasis in the Gospels, smoothly picking up where the previous season left off, because the lectionary has prepared us for it.

For those planning the worship, particularly choosing the music and writing the sermons, this transition can be a great gift for the congregation if we just let it shine forth.  In these few Sundays between All Saints’ and Advent, we can mix in a nice pile of hymns for All Saints, or the Church Triumphant, the Kingdom of God, the Kingship of Christ, the return of Christ and Advent.  How to execute this mix and transition of themes will vary depending upon which calendar & lectionary you’re using, and what exactly the preaching plan is, but in general this all works together.

Fun fact: over in England, their modernization of the calendar is a little different than ours.  For them, Trinitytide ends in October, and All Saints’ Sunday kicks off what is essentially a Pre-Advent season, sometimes called ‘Kingdomtide.’  The liturgical color is recommended to be red.  This strikes me as somewhat unnecessary – the traditional lectionary and the RCL already provide a Pre-Advent time without specially marking one out.  This Kingdomtide addition also makes the removal of the traditional Pre-Lent Sundays rather hypocritical.  If you poke around the Anglican Communion today, you will find some provinces have a modern calendar like ours – the American style – and others will have one like the English one.  So if you ever travel abroad at this time of year, be aware that there may be some noteworthy lectionary divergences this month.  The good news is that, despite the various methods, the general effect is mercifully similar across the board.

Is it All Souls’ Day?

Day two of the All Saints Octave is known, among the Papists, as All Souls’ Day.  A lot of Anglicans use this term also, though what our prayer book actually offers for November 2nd (on page 709) is the optional Commemoration of the Faithful Departed.  Granted, that rolls off the tongue far less easily than “All Souls”, but it’s more theologically accurate: we can only commemorate the faithful departed, not the damned departed.

Another reason to consider avoiding the name “All Souls Day” is because of the false doctrines that the Papists put forth with respect to this day.  They teach of a place of Purgatory, where most Christians souls go after death, to complete their process of sanctification and finally be completely purged of their sins.  Although traces of this sort of concept are almost see-able in the Bible, it makes for rather untenable doctrine.  All Souls’ Day, in Roman reckoning, is a special day to pray for the souls in purgatory; it’s a neat complement to All Saints Day, celebrating the souls now fully glorified in heaven.

Indeed, there is a neat three-fold structure of the church that they put forth: the church militant (us on earth, still fighting sin), the church expectant (in purgatory, awaiting full release), and the church triumphant (in heaven, at rest).  But the Scriptures don’t permit us to make a full distinction between the last two.  The dead are both at rest with Christ and awaiting their resurrection unto glory.  (The tension between these two realities plays heavily into divergent traditional & modern approaches to the Burial service.)

On those grounds we can still have All Saints’ Day (to emphasize their glorious rest) and Commemoration of the Faithful Departed (to emphasize their yet-unfinished story).  Indeed, it is the recommendation of this Customary to treat this day as if it were a major feast day, using Occasional Prayer #113 as the Collect of the Day:

O eternal Lord God, you hold all souls in life: Shed forth upon your whole Church in Paradise and on earth the bright beams of your light and heavenly comfort; and grant that we, following the good examples of those who have loved and served you here and are now at rest, may enter with them into the fullness of your unending joy; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

If you still want to nickname it “All Souls’ Day” that’s fine… the phrase is in that collect after all.  But it’s best to think of it as a complement to All Saints’ Day, considering the faithful departed from a slightly different angle.