An Overview of Holy Saturday

Of all the Triduum services, Holy Saturday is probably the most omitted in common practice today; liturgically it is overshadowed by its lengthy neighboring services for Good Friday and the Easter Vigil, logistically it can seem to stand in the way of preparations for the Easter service(s), and culturally it is a moment many people do not know what to do with.  Holy Saturday is the awkward “in-between” moment.  Jesus has died, but has not yet risen.  The Gospel lesson for this service, as most might expect, tells the brief story of his burial, but therein lies the problem, for our culture is one that does not handle death well.  Funerals are replaced with celebrations of life, burials are replaced with memorial services, so when it comes to the burial of our Lord, whom we know will rise again on the third day, it is all the more difficult for the modern Western heart and mind to sit still at his graveside.  This brief worship service, thus, provides for us precisely what we need to re-learn about death and mourning.  If the Good Friday service is the main event, the primary Burial service, Holy Saturday is the Committal at the graveside – the smaller, simpler, and more intimate moment of standing outside the tomb and reflecting on what has happened.  And yet Holy Saturday has other surprises in store: the doctrine of Christ’s descent into hell (Article of Religion III) is one that is often neglected in modern theological discourse, and this day in the Church Calendar focuses on that like no other.

The Collect of the Day

The two choices of collect emphasize different aspects of Holy Saturday’s Gospel narrative.  The first picks up the theme of Sabbath rest, which Jesus fulfills by “resting” on the seventh day – of his three days in the tomb, Saturday is the only one in which our Lord was dead for the full 24 hours!  We pray that we may “await with him” and “rise with him,” setting up the worshiper for a much-needed lesson in what it means to wait with Christ.  The second collect directs us, instead, toward the activity of Christ’s spirit during his bodily rest.  Here, our prayer is to “wait in hope” and to receive “a share in the glory” of God’s children.

The theme of waiting is common to both collects, but they play out in different contexts, and the officiant should choose which collect to pray based upon which emphasis (bodily rest in the tomb or spiritual activity in hell) will be prevalent in the homily.

The Lessons

Job 14:1-14 is an apt lament for a burial.  It recognizes the shortness of life, the boundaries set by God which mortals cannot cross, and bewails the apparent permanency of death.  Only at the end does it cry out to God, “appoint me a set time, and remember me” and ask “If a man die, shall he live again?”

The Psalms do not answer this question, but give the worshipers further voice to join in Job’s lament.  Psalm 130 is the classic prayer of the dead, balancing the helplessness of “the deep” with God’s mercy and plenteous redemption.  Psalm 88 is a prayer of one betrayed, whose companions are darkness and hidden, daring to ask if and when God’s loving-kindness will be revealed in the grave.  And the beginning of Psalm 31, also appointed in Compline, is an expression of trust amidst confusion; in it we pray with Jesus to the Father “into your hands I commend my spirit.”  The officiant may, as with the Collect, select which Psalm to use based upon the emphasis of the coming sermon; or, because, there are three Psalms to choose from, they may be rotated across Years A, B, and C.

1 Peter 4:1-8 begins to answer the questions and cries of Job and the Psalms: “the gospel was preached even to those who are dead, that though judged in the flesh the way people are, they might live in the spirit the way God does.”  Jesus’ descent among the dead means that the Gospel reaches even the faithful departed.  With such a hope in hand, or, knowing that “the end of all things is at hand,” we are therefore able to receive the ethical teachings of the Apostle in the spirit it was intended: not as bare rules for holy living, but as expressions of divine love fueled by the hope which Christ’s death, descent, and resurrection provides.

The Gospel, either from Matthew 27 or from John 19, may feel anticlimactic after the previous sequence.  The burial narrative is short and simple, and frankly unremarkable after the emotional roller coaster of Job, the Psalm(s), and Saint Peter.  Yet the mundanity of the Gospel lesson is precisely what the worshiper needs to understand in this moment: the glorious work of God is regularly hidden underneath appearances of normality.  An ordinary life plays host to the miraculous work of the Spirit; an ordinary bread plays host to the miraculous body of Christ; an ordinary grave plays host to the salvation of the living and dead.

The Homily and Anthem

In many ways, the Anthem (taken from the Prayer Book’s graveside service) is itself a homily, albeit in devotional form.  It begins with the words of Job, paraphrased, then moves through expressions of faith and hope much like the three Psalms provide.  It concludes in petition to our “holy and merciful Savior” that we may never fall away from him in our own pain and death.  Thus the worshipers apply the Scripture Lessons to themselves in the very reading or singing of this Anthem.

That having been said, many people are not sufficiently liturgically formed to recognize what this Anthem is doing in and through them, and therefore a homily may be said first.

The Prayers

The worship service ends with the Lord’s Prayer and the traditional Blessing from the Daily Office.  The doxology is omitted from the Lord’s Prayer for the same reason as in the Good Friday service – it is a gesture of solemnity and a restraining of celebration, reserving the joyous outcries of praise for the arrival of Easter in the night to come.

An Overview of Good Friday

The 2019 BCP’s introductory text helpfully explains the meaning and purpose behind several Lenten, Passiontide, and Good Friday traditions regarding the appearance and sound of the church.  In line with unbroken tradition through Patristic, Medieval, Reformation, and even modern piety, we are invited to remember our own role in the suffering and agony of Christ.  The Lord’s Supper, after all, is a “participation” or “communion” in the body and blood of Christ, so its larger liturgical context marks our participation or communion in the larger gospel events.  God’s people in every age and every place are therefore invited and enabled to join him at his table on Thursday, follow him to his Cross today, keep watch outside his tomb tomorrow, and partake of his resurrection as midnight (and Sunday) approach.  Knowing this full scope ahead of time, unlike the disciples some two thousand years ago, the worshiper today is able to recognize the Cross as “a sign of life, in the midst of death” and celebrate it accordingly.

The Entrance

Apart from the Daily Office of Morning Prayer, the church has been silent since the Stripping of the Altar the night before, save the whispering of night watches or vigils being kept by the faithful few.  The entrance of the ministers in silence respects that watchful tone, and their kneeling for silent prayer marks their joining of the congregation in that pious vigil.  Silence is also intensely personal, which part of what makes it so difficult to maintain in public worship: the only sounds to be heard are the prayers, questions, and distractions in each person’s own head!  But that is a particular charism of the Triduum liturgy – all are invited to invest themselves in these critical gospel moments and consider deeply their participation and responses to every word and deed of Christ.

The silence is broken either with the iconic penitential words of Isaiah or with the simple bidding “Let us pray.”

The Collect of the Day

The petition of this prayer is deceptively simple: we ask God to “behold” us.  In the context of this service, following a potential all-night vigil kept mostly in silence, asking God to look at us, to see us, to behold or take notice of us, is a deeply emotion-laden plea.  The Officiant would do well to read this collect slowly, allowing the gravity of its significance time to land in the hearts and minds of all who are gathered.  For further commentary on this collect, see the Collects for the Christian Year.

The Lessons

Two options for the Old Testament are provided.  They are listed in canonical order, which is not necessarily an order of precedence, so there are several means by which worship planners may choose between them.  One consideration is that the reading from Isaiah will have been read five days earlier on Palm Sunday, so to read it again here would give it a particular emphasis, or to read from Genesis 22 instead would be to provide a wider range of scriptural content to Holy Week.  It is worth noting, further, that both of these lessons are strongly represented through the history of the Daily Office Lectionary in the Prayer Book tradition.

All three of these Psalm readings were first appointed in the 1979 Prayer Book, and may be most simply used in rotation in line with the three-year lectionary.

Hebrews 10:1-25 is the traditional Epistle lesson for this day, addressing the subject of priestly sacrifice and the sprinkling of the faithful with the blood of the covenant for their cleansing.  This provides a theological context for the Passion of Christ as well as directions for a personal devotional response to it – the worshiper is invited to consider the “good” provided in the events of Good Friday.

The long option for the Gospel lesson is in line with the tradition of medieval practice and the first Prayer Books, whereas the shorter option is in line with Anglican practice since 1662.

The omission of the congregation responses before and after this reading is a return both to classical Prayer Book practice and to pre-Reformation custom.  This leaves the congregation once again with moments of silence surrounding the Passion of Saint John.

The rubrics regarding the manner of reading the Passion Gospel and the congregation’s sitting, standing, and kneeling at different points throughout are the same as in the Palm Sunday service.  Historically, the three-voice chanting of the Passion Gospel was practiced with all four accounts (Matthew’s on Sunday, Mark’s on Tuesday, Luke’s on Wednesday, and John’s on Friday).  The stark solemnity of this day, compared to Palm Sunday, better befits the simple chanting or reading of the Gospel by the reader, Deacon, and Priest, rather than the more elaborate affairs now commonly practiced on Palm Sunday.

The Sermon

The option to sing a hymn after the sermon is an opportunity to provide more active congregational participation.  This enables another opportunity to sing one of the many excellent Passiontide songs in Christian hymnody – opportunities which are in relative short supply in this worship service – as well as gives the people a break from the silence.

The Solemn Collects

From the angle of devotion and piety, Good Friday has many avenues to explore: sorrow and penitence for our sins, Christ’s triumph over death through death, creation’s participation and redemption in Christ through the Cross and other natural and supernatural phenomena during the crucifixion, and the work of God to bring salvation to a world otherwise condemned.  It is the latter direction that is taken up now as the officiant announces the call to prayer.

In Early Church and Medieval practice, the Deacon would direct the people to kneel for silent prayer after each bidding, and then to rise for each collect.  The rubric provided here simplifies that, allowing for any appropriate combination of standing or kneeling during this portion of the liturgy.

The first intercession: for the church

This bidding sets forth a vision of the Church not often considered in the modern evangelical imagination: not only are we to pray for her preservation in unity, peace, and safety, but also that the Church is the context in which God makes all powers and principalities subject to himself (1 Corinthians 15:27-28, Ephesians 6:12, 1 Peter 3:22).  The resulting goal is peace, or tranquilitas, a term frequently used in the history of Christian devotion to refer to a sense of quiet, wholeness, and unfettered access and attention between the soul and God.  This is thus both an eternal heavenly state to look forward to as well as a temporal state to be glimpsed within one’s own life and experience.

Archbishop Laud’s collect, then, meticulously covers several angles by which one might pray for the Church, dealing with its proclamation of the truth, its corruption, error, perverseness, rightness, need, and division.

The second intercession: for the Bishops

As in the Prayers of the People, these prayers move from the general to the particular.  The people are invited to pray for their Bishop and Archbishop, representing the “governance of God’s holy people.”  This is, therefore, a time of prayer specifically for the church’s leadership; prayer for its ministry and work will come next.

The collect answers this bidding by acknowledging God’s judgment over all creation and Christ’s role as the true Shepherd and Bishop of our souls, and praying for those aspects of his work and ministry to be carried out rightly by his appointed Bishops.  Our own “fruit of righteousness” is named as the goal of a well-ordered and rightly-governed Church, which then leads the way to the next intercession.

The third intercession: for all the clergy

Now all orders of the Church are named.  There were several “minor orders” also named in the ancient version of this Office, but as those have been discontinued they are no longer named here.

This collect was better known in the 1979 Prayer Book as one of the Prayers for Mission in Morning Prayer.  While terms such as “vocation and ministry” are most typically used to refer to members of the clergy, they may also be rightly used to describe the work and calling of all Christians.

The fourth intercession: for the state

Similar to the first set of prayers for the Church, prayer for a national government is also directed toward the glory of God and his eternal purposes.  We are bid, here, to pray that our leaders would realize their fealty to God and to seek his honor and glory, so that we can honor them with faithful obedience as God’s Word directs us to do.

The prayer, then, contrasts our brief earthly kingdoms with God’s everlasting kingdom and infinite power.  We pray for the safety of our country and its leaders, as well as for the spiritual gifts necessary for right governance and for their adherence to God’s calling upon their lives to be public servants operating in the fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom.  Like the Prayers of the People in the Communion rites (and unlike the ancient versions of these prayers), this collect does not assume that the President, Prime Minister, Sovereign, or other sort of governor is a Christian.  Rather, we pray for Christ’s direction in their lives either in line with their professed faith or in spite of their lack of faith in him.

The fifth intercession: for those preparing for Holy Baptism

It is highly likely that many congregations will not have any catechumens or converts preparing for Baptism or Confirmation on any given Good Friday.  Thus this intercession helps pull the worshiper (and entire congregation) out of their own local context and into the global, Catholic, context of the whole Church.  We pray for open hearts, so that the “washing of regeneration” (Titus 3:5) may bring such persons not only the forgiveness of sins (Acts 2:38) but also to a state of faithful servanthood (Matthew 25:19-23).

The collect repeats most of what the bidding contains, but using different terms: “open their hearts” becomes “gifts of faith and understanding”, God’s “grace and mercy” become instruction in his “holy Word”, the “washing of regeneration” becomes “born again”, and “faithful servants” become “adopted children.”

The sixth intercession: for deliverance from all evils

In terms of the Prayers of the People and the Great Litany, this is parallel to the prayers for “all those who are in trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity.”  The scope of this intercession, however, is made even wider in naming such natural disasters as pestilence and famine.  The earliest forms of this bidding also included those on pilgrimages and those traveling by ship at sea, but since long-distance travel is normally much safer today, those concerns have been truncated to a single phrase here.

As God specially hears the “deep sighing of the poor” in Psalm 12:5 and of the oppressed in Exodus 22:27, and mirroring the expression “let my cry come to you” in several other psalms, this Solemn Collect recognizes the privilege that the prayers of those in need have before the Lord.  Not only that, but our own strength to serve them and relieve their needs is also a subject of prayer for divine aid (cf. Matthew 25:31-40).

The seventh intercession: for those in heresy or schism

Even from the earliest centuries of Christianity, the Church has been sadly plagued with heresy and riven with schismatic movements.  This bidding to prayer puts one in mind of the error and division of Christianity’s many denominations in our day, as well as the countless sects and religions that have been created falsely claiming the name of Christ.  On a more personal level, this bidding refers us not only to churches and assemblies but also to individuals – people known to the congregation who are walking (or have walked) away from the Christian faith to some degree or another.

The collect begins with the familiar phraseology of the Ash Wednesday Collect and petitions God’s mercy on those who have been deceived.  The Church’s desire, as God’s, is that none should perish by that all should be saved by being restored in the wisdom and way of Christ and his bride, the Church.

The eighth intercession: for the Jewish people

The early Christian vision of the world saw three people in three categories: Christian, Jewish, and Pagan.  Christians, of course, hold the full revelation of God in Jesus Christ.  Jews hold a partial revelation of God but reject the truth to which it points; Pagans hold no special revelation and have only the natural law to guide them.  Thus it was traditional to pray for Jews and Pagans in different ways, according to their respective situations.  Where the ancient version of this intercession was more negative, emphasizing the need to remove darkness (or veil) under which the Jewish religion exists, this bidding is more positive, asking for God’s grace to bring them to know the Lord Jesus as the object of their as-yet-unfulfilled faith.

The collect, likewise, looks back to God’s covenant with Abraham, on which both the Jewish and Christian conceptions of covenantal union with God are based (cf. Romans 4).  We recognize that the world was blessed through the Jews (John 4:22), and pray that they will receive that same blessing of salvation themselves.

The ninth intercession: for all unbelievers

Where the ancient liturgy prayed for “pagans” we now pray for nonbelievers without attempting to label them, thus acknowledging the broad religious (and non-religious) scope of the world around us without resorting to generalizations or oversimplification.  Whatever strands of truth a given religion, sect, or philosophy might rightly grasp, the basic issue is that the Gospel of Jesus Christ – in whose name alone one may be saved (Acts 4:12) – is not believed among these people.  Thus we are called upon to pray for their enlightenment.

The collect is similarly phrased to encompass all non-believers fairly and accurately.  These are “all who do not know you as you are revealed in your Son” and we pray for the Gospel’s grace and power to be present in their midst (Acts 6:8).  We pray for hearts to be turned, for the lost to return home, and for the unity of the human race in one flock under one Shepherd (John 10:16).

The tenth intercession: for the resurrection

As the Prayers of the People and Great Litany conclude with prayers for the departed and our share with them in eternity, so too does our version of the Solemn Collects conclude with an eye toward the life to come.  We pray not simply for holy lives for the present’s sake, but for lives of faith that lead to a state of worthiness to enter into the joy of our Lord (Matthew 25:21, 23).  And by naming the departed in this prayer, we are reminded that they also have not yet reached that blessed state of eternal bliss

The collect provides further context for the scope of our salvation: the Church is a mystery (Ephesians 5:32) in which God sovereignly works out his plan of salvation (Ephesians 1:10).  Specifically, this prayer describes “things which were cast down” as “being raised up”, which not only echoes the Magnificat and the Canticle of Hannah (1 Samuel 2:1-10) but also poetically recasts Saint Paul’s teachings on redemption by recapitulation in Christ (Romans 5:12-21).  Thus we see the Christian life and reality as one of restoration and reconciliation rather than simply death and resurrection.

Devotions Before the Cross

The use of a wooden (and not metal or stone) cross for the purposes of adoration is significant, and this is reflected in the words of the antiphon: “Behold the wood…”  While on one hand the symbol of the Cross itself is hugely significant in Christian art and iconography, the particular subject of this devotional practice since the Early Church is concerned with the Cross as a “tree” (cf. the apostolic preaching in Acts 5:30, 10:39, 13:29, and 1 Peter 2:24, with their various Old Testament types).  Likened to a tree, the Cross can be said to bear fruit (namely, Christ, and the blood and water from his side whence flows our salvation).  Furthermore, and perhaps more fundamentally, this imagery also establishes the Cross as nature’s own participation in the Gospel of our salvation.  Just as the stones would cry out if no one sang Christ’s praise (Luke 19:40), the Cross was Christ’s most faithful companion through his crucifixion.  Meditations such as these arose early in the English Christian imagination, resulting in great poems such as the Old English masterpiece The Dream of the Rood, or “Vision of the Cross.”  The most explicit liturgical expression of this line of devotional insight is found in the hymn endorsed in the rubric on the bottom of BCP page 574, Sing my tongue the glorious battle.  That ancient hymn contains the following stanzas:

Faithful cross! above all other / One and only noble tree!
None in foliage, none in blossom, / None in fruit thy peer may be;
Sweetest wood and sweetest iron!  / Sweetest weight is hung on thee.

Bend thy boughs, O tree of glory! / Thy relaxing sinews bend;
For awhile the ancient rigor / That thy birth bestowed, suspend;
And the King of heavenly beauty / On thy bosom gently tend!

These words, emerging from the biblical-liturgical mindset of the Early Church and written by a 6th-century hymnist, metaphorically call upon the powerful Tree of the Cross to suspend and relax its natural roughness and strength so as to embrace the crucified Lord more gently and lovingly.  Together, Christ and Cross form a faithful duo at the most critical moment of human history.  The arms of the Cross upheld the arms of the Savior interceding for all mankind, like Aaron and Hur upholding the arms of Moses (Exodus 17:12).

The Reproaches

These devotions do something quite rare in Western practice: they form a dialogue between Christ and the congregation.  Few songs and hymns venture to put words into the mouth of God, and devotional writings that do so tend to reveal themselves to be unhinged from biblical fidelity and contrary to Christian orthodoxy (literally, “right worship”).  Through the course of the Church’s history, only the most venerable of mystics have ventured to pen such dialogues with the divine, and even these typically remain best-suited for the monastic context in which they were conceived, generally inaccessible to ordinary Christian piety.  The few dialogues that do stand out in Christian devotion survive because (1) they have stood the test of time through the centuries and (2) they stick closely to the language of Scripture, and these Solemn Reproaches tick both of those boxes.

This devotion contains six stanzas, each with the Trisagion as a responsory refrain.  Each stanza is a set of questions or accusations (hence “reproaches”) from the mouth of Christ, and the Trisagion is our only response, knowing our own guilt.

The first stanza opens with the question that will repeat several times: “what have I done… how have I wearied you?”  This question is drawn from Micah 6:3, and 6:4 contains the first part of God’s testimony (he brought us forth from Egypt).  This, with a reference to the crossing of the Red Sea, is contrasted with sinful humanity’s response of preparing a Cross for him.

The second stanza evokes the account of Exodus 16 and its later reflection in Psalm 105, along with the arrival in the Promised Land, again contrasting this with the crucifixion.

The third stanza draws from the words of Moses and Samuel, prompting us to consider what God has done for us (Deuteronomy 10:21, 1 Samuel 12:24).  The image of God’s people as a vineyard (cf. Isaiah 5 and Ezekiel 19) is contrasted with the vinegar offered back to Christ (cf. Psalm 69:22 and all four Passion narratives).

The fourth stanza contrasts the deliverance of Israel from the tenth plague of Egypt with the deliverance of Jesus over to death (Matthew 20:19, et al), and the “leadership” of the cloudy pillar with Gabbatha (Exodus 13:21-22 and John 19:13).

The fifth stanza turns to pairs of striking down enemies and crowning kings: pitting Psalm 135:10-11 against Matthew 27:30, and Exodus 19:6 against Mark 15:17.

Finally, the Reproaches reach their climax with the images of opening-and-pouring-out and lifting-up-on-high.  Christ provided water from the rock in the wilderness and was himself opened up on the Cross by a spear (Exodus 17 and John 19:34).

In all this, the worshiper is invited to consider God asking “what I have done to you to deserve this?  How have I wearied you?  Testify against (or answer!) me.”  At each accusation or indictment, we are directed to recognize and own our complicity with sin, making no excuses before our Lord, and instead asking in reply only for his mercy.  Although solemn, grave, and deeply penitential, these are no morbid or hopeless pleas.  The Trisagion is not so much a confession of guilt as it is a confession of faith: yes, God is holy, mighty, and immortal, yet it is his property (or character) always to have mercy, and therefore we still have the ability to ask “have mercy upon us.”  If God did not love the sinner and seek out the lost, then such prayers as these would be unwarranted and impossible.

The Anthems

As if in answer to the Reproaches, the antiphons of both of these anthems direct the worshiper back to a posture of praise and adoration.  Even though the death of Christ on the Cross was a horrible evil for which all of mankind shares guilt, that death was also his glory as the Savior, and becomes our glory and joy as we are found in him.

The words of Psalm 67, furthermore, celebrate and pray for the furtherance of God’s mercy among all the nations of the earth, anticipating a future where God receives praise from all peoples.

The second anthem instead takes an expression of praise from a normally-didactic text, providing the Psalm’s Old Testament prophetic perspective with a New Testament clarification: death with Christ yields life with Christ and eternal blessing thereafter.

Distribution of Communion

In line with early, medieval, Roman, and Eastern practice, the full Communion service is not used on Good Friday.  This navigates a tricky dilemma: from the perspective of heightened solemnity, discipline, and self-denial, it is inappropriate for the Church to rehearse the joy-filled prayers that comprise the celebration of Holy Communion; while from the perspective of Holy Friday being Good Friday, the very day on which our Lord performed his saving sacrifice it is eminently appropriate that the Church should partake of the sacrifice of her redemption.  The reservation and redistribution of Holy Communion from a previous service (Palm Sunday in Eastern practice, Maundy Thursday in the West) became the solution to Good Friday’s conundrum.

However, not all Anglican churches are prepared to bear the logistics of consecrating and reserving bread and wine.  Indeed, some reject the practice, as did many of the Anglican divines of the 17th century.  The solution to this issue, therefore, is not to serve Communion at all on Good Friday, as the second rubric describes.

For those following the ancient practice as retrieved in this Prayer Book (as well as the 1979 Book and similar modern worship resources), the Good Friday service continues with the Confession and Absolution of Sin.  Although the two Communion rites allow for their respective prayers of confession to be swapped interchangeably, the default recommendation provided here is the confession of the Anglican Standard Text.  It is longer, more thorough, and more grave in tone, befitting Good Friday more profoundly than its counterpart from the 20th century.  For similar reasons, only the longer bidding to confession is provided beforehand.

No Comfortable Words follow the Absolution.  This, too, is a nod to the solemnity of Good Friday – all elements of joy and comfort are muted in order to keep the worshipers focused on the gravity of their sins, the Cross, and the Passion of Christ our Lord.  The lack of doxology at the end of the Lord’s Prayer accords with the same logic.

Of the two usual Invitations spoken by the celebrant, only one is provided.  Where “the gifts of God for the people of God” may be the more commonly-used, the Invitation taken from John 1:29 is far more appropriate.  That very Lamb of God, or sacrifice made upon the Cross, is now offered to the people to “Behold,” and then to eat and drink.

While music during the distribution of Holy Communion is customary in many places, the spirit of the Good Friday service is such that the distribution is best ministered in silence.  Note that the ministers’ words to the recipients are not provided here – even these standard speeches are silenced!  That said, a hymn or anthem may be selected for this point in the service if great care is taken to choose a song that maintains the solemnity and gravity of the moment, rather than undercutting it with a sudden tonal shift.

To conclude the service, the Post-Communion prayer, blessing, and recessional hymn are neither appointed nor appropriate.  Just as the bulk of the eucharistic prayers were traditionally deemed too celebratory for Good Friday, so are these usual features of the end of the Communion service unadvisable in this rite.  Instead, there is provided a special Concluding Prayer.  It is addressed to Jesus, which is relatively uncommon amongst liturgical prayers.  The primary petition is that he would set the Cross – his suffering and death – in between our sinful souls and his righteous judgment.  This is the Gospel of the Cross in a nutshell!  Christ has interposed his own Passion between the sharp sword of his mouth and our souls which would be pierced by it (Isaiah 49:2, Hebrews 4:12).  We pray for this intervention both “today” (Psalm 95:8, Hebrews 3:7-4:10) and in our hour of death (one’s last chance to make amends before God and men).  Beyond ourselves and individuals, we then pray for all believers: the living, the dead, the Church in her perfection, and us sinners in our need.

The direction to depart in silence signifies that the liturgy is not truly concluded, but is once again only pausing, waiting to continue on the next day.  As on Maundy Thursday, people may be tacitly invited to remain for silent prayer and devotion.  And, as the introductory text noted, other public devotions may soon follow, such as Stations of the Cross or the Seven Last Words.  Whatever the specific schedule of events, the unfinished feeling of this service should point people to the liturgical reality that the story is not over yet: ahead remains yet Christ’s burial and repose in the tomb, and only after that the vigil of his resurrection.

An Overview of Maundy Thursday

One of the major changes to the Prayer Book tradition in the 20th century, culminating in the American Prayer Book of 1979, is the restoration of unique Triduum services to mark the end of Holy Week and Lent.  Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday form a triduum or “trilogy of days” which together form a coherent whole, seamlessly uniting biblical narrative, public piety, and theological instruction.  The introductory text states that the services of these three days (leading to the Great Vigil of Easter) “form a single liturgy.”  This accounts for the lack of blessings and dismissals at the end of all but the last of these services, the lack of celebration of Holy Communion on Friday and Saturday, awkward periods of silence, and several other features that may seem quirky in isolation.  As a whole, the Triduum services form an epic experience of worship and devotion filled to the brim with doctrinal instruction and biblical immersion, but this is also their weakness.  For those who attend only one of the three days, the full context is missed, and the liturgy, literally the “public work”, is not able to work to its full potential upon such an individual’s heart and mind.  To address this issue, the classical Prayer Book tradition offers us some alternatives which shall be considered through the following service commentaries.

The name “Maundy Thursday,” as explained here, comes from the traditional evening celebration which focused on our Lord’s washing of the disciples’ feet.

The Acclamation and Sentences

The service may begin with a processional hymn like a normal eucharistic celebration but the opening rubric encourages the option of silence.  As in the Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday services, silence will continue to be one of the most powerful tools in this and the following two rites.

The four Opening Sentences together form a brief Address in which the celebrant introduces the biblical chronology of this evening’s commemoration.  Each sentence names Jesus by a different title relevant to his subsequent works: “Christ the Son of Man” gathers with his disciples; “Christ our Lord and Master” became a lowly foot-washing servant; “Christ our God” inaugurated the Sacrament of Holy Communion out the Passover meal; “Christ the Lamb of God” gave himself up for his own execution.  Depending upon the extent of the enactment of the liturgy, all four of these may be observed in the service to follow.

The Lessons

The beginning of Exodus 12 describes the Passover meal which provides the Old Testament context for the Last Supper.

Psalm 78:15-26 celebrates the manna that God provided in the desert during the Exodus years.  This “food from heaven” and “bread of angels” provides another significant Old Testament context for the eucharistic feast that Christ inaugurates.

The Epistle contains what is actually the first recorded account of the Last Supper, as 1 Corinthians was likely written in the year 53 or 54 during Saint Paul’s ministry and the Gospels weren’t written until the 60’s or 70’s, toward the end of the Apostles’ lives.  The final portion of the reading is labeled as optional, but historically it was always included.  The warning in those verses against profaning the body and blood of Christ is expounded in the Exhortation to Holy Communion; the only feasible reason to omit reading these verses here is if the Exhortation is going to be said later in this service.

As for the Gospels, John 13 has the most historical precedent as being the standard Gospel for this service for a thousand years until the Reformation.  The reading from Luke 22 allows the preacher to bring two different narratives of the Last Supper together before the congregation’s attention, making it a good choice if that biblical narrative is to be the focus of the sermon.  Otherwise, the Foot-Washing Gospel should take pride of place in this service.

The Foot-Washing

After the sermon, the Celebrant introduces the worshipers to the next unique feature of this worship service.  The Address provided here explains the mentality behind Jesus’ example: Christian strength and growth comes from humility, or “lowly service.”  The washing of others’ feet was the epitome of lowly service in the Middle East in the first century, so for our Lord and God to undertake such a role infuses Christianity with a distinct conception of authority and service which has thoroughly permeated ever Christian (and post-Christian!) culture ever since.

Traditionally, the washing of the feet is carried out by the rector or vicar and received by members of the vestry or other representatives of the congregation.  However, this is not specified in the rubrics either in the 1979 Prayer Book or in this.  Thus it has become the custom of some that not only do the clergy wash others’ feet, but anyone in the congregation may wash the feet of others.  This presents some difficult questions.  On one hand this innovation rightly grasps and applies the final command of Christ in the Gospel: “you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”  All Christians are called to lives of humility, serving one another no matter how lofty or lowly the job.  On the other hand, Jesus gave this instruction to his disciples, not to his larger crowd of followers, and the imagery of lowly service is predicated on the fact that the one who humbles himself before others is indeed of a higher rank than them.  Thus the foot-washing command is incumbent upon pastors washing the feet of their flock, and for everyone to wash one another’s feet is to miss the profundity of the leader kneeling before the follower.

During the foot-washing, it is customary for the choir to sing an anthem special to the occasion.  Similar to the Offertory and (at least in the 1549 Prayer Book) the Communion, scripture verses are offered as anthems alongside the reality of other traditional songs being known and available.

The Communion and Beyond

After this, the Communion service continues with the Prayers of the People and proceeds normally until the Post-Communion Prayer.  At that point (1) the Reserved Sacrament may be processed to the Altar of Repose, then (2) the Altar may be stripped, to the reading or chanting of Psalm 22, and then (3) the service ends without dismissal and the people either depart in silence or remain for prayer and vigil before the Altar of Repose, liturgically joining Christ in Gethsemane to keep watch (for at least) one hour.

The reason for this silence is twofold.  First, it is part of the liturgical drama of re-living our Lord’s last night and day before his death; by departing in silence the worshiper is not only put in mind of the disciples’ unceremonious scattering from Jesus upon his arrest, but also experiences something of that discomfort in a visceral manner.  The second reason is that the modern (or renewed medieval) Triduum services are conceived of as a continuous whole:

  1. Holy Communion commemorating the Foot-Washing and the Last Supper
  2. The Reservation of the Blessed Sacrament
  3. The Stripping of the Altar
  4. The Watches, or Night Vigil, perhaps concluding with Tenebrae
  5. The Passion and Solemn Collects of Good Friday
  6. Devotions before (or Stations of) the Cross
  7. Distribution of Communion (or Mass of the Presanctified)
  8. The Holy Saturday Service with Burial Anthem
  9. The Great Vigil of Easter, consisting of: The Liturgy of Light and Exsultet, The Vigil of Lessons, Holy Baptism, and the First Mass of Easter

And, of course, punctuating all these are the Daily Offices of Morning and Evening Prayer.  Thus the 2019 Prayer Book endorses:

  1. Thursday Evening Prayer
  2. The Maundy Thursday Service
  3. Thursday Compline
  4. Tenebrae*
  5. Friday Morning Prayer
  6. Way (or Stations) of the Cross*
  7. The Good Friday Service
  8. The Seven Last Words of Christ*
  9. Friday Evening Prayer
  10. Friday Compline
  11. Saturday Morning Prayer
  12.  The Holy Saturday Service
  13. Saturday Evening Prayer
  14. The Great Vigil of Easter

* These services are endorsed on BCP page 564, but forms for their observance are not provided in the Prayer Book itself.

What is a Penitential Season?

In our religious discourse and in our Prayer Book we often describe Lent as a “Penitential season”. Advent is often described this way too, though some like to argue that it is not, or is less penitential than Lent. In any case, what I want to explore today is “what is a penitential season?”

Penitence is a posture and set of acts that express sorrow for sin, doing penance, pursuing holiness and healing in the wake of repentance from wrongdoing. A penitential season, therefore, is a period of time in which someone (or more usually the whole church) engages in this with a defined beginning and end.

What easily gets lost in the mix is that, if we are (or if one is) to have a set time of penitence, there must first be a time of self-examination culminating in a confession or act of contrition or resolution to make amends. After all, there’s little use in expressing sorrow for sin one hasn’t yet identified, in doing penance without being assigned any by a confessor, in pursuing healing before the medicine has been prescribed. In short: a “Penitential Season” needs a “Self-Examination Season” to come first, otherwise the penitential season is just glorified gloominess.

Too often, this is how we approach Lent. We come into the season and remember “oh yes, this is the time to think extra hard about my sins and what I can give up and how to be a better Christian and grow closer to Jesus. And I guess I’m not supposed to Alleluia in the worship service for six weeks because I’m supposed to be sad in church or something.” This jumble, while well-intentioned and technically correct, does not reflect wise preparation and lacks the insight and aid of church tradition.

In the old calendar, before the 1970’s, the season of Lent was preceded by three Sundays, called “Pre-Lent” or the “Gesima Sundays” after their Latin names: Septuagesima, Sexagesima, and Quinquagesima. However we name or label them, the themes of the readings through these days pointed the congregation toward questions of self-reflection and examination. The traditional practice was that by the end of this period everyone would make their confession to the priest (typically on Shrove Tuesday) so that on the next day (Ash Wednesday) everyone would be ready to worship the Lord in a unified act of penitence, and enter into the season of Lent with an actual plan or intention for increased spiritual discipline.

The modern calendar has, sadly, done away with this valuable period of reflection, and many preachers who serve in churches that do retain the Pre-Lent Sundays don’t always take proper advantage of those weeks to prepare people for their Lenten observance.

However, the attentive preacher can still find fodder for preparing people for Lent in the modern calendar and lectionary. In Year A of the three-year cycle the Gospel lessons through the season of Epiphany walk through portions of the Sermon on the Mount (mostly from Matthew 5). Our Lord’s teachings on holiness in these passages provide excellent material for self-examination in the final weeks before the season of Lent begins. That is what I strove to do in the past three weeks before writing this. In Year B the readings offer fewer obvious aids to this theme, but it must be noted that on the 6th Sunday of Epiphany the epistle lesson is 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 which happens to be the traditional Epistle for the first of the three Pre-Lent Sundays! In Year C, if the Epiphany season is long enough, its Gospel readings also reach Luke’s version of the Sermon on the Mount in chapter 6. And those are just the obvious lectionary opportunities; an attentive preacher will be able to prepare the congregation for Lent appropriately with nearly any biblical text at hand.

Beyond Sunday Communion part 1: The Litany & Communion

The Prayer Book tradition of worship is rich and robust, providing not only rites and rituals for individual worship services but indeed for an entire life of Christian worship. As a part of this ambitious large-scale schema, it should come as no surprise that there’s more to worship than simply going to Holy Communion every Sunday morning. There are the daily rounds of prayer, punctuated by the [Great] Litany a couple times per week, various pastoral offices for key stages in the natural and spiritual lives of a congregation and family, and pointers toward the development of private devotions to enable the individual worshiper to flesh out his or her own life of worship apart from the gathered Church.

What is often missed in today’s church culture, however, is that the original Prayer Book pattern for worship on Sunday morning was actually a three-part affair: Morning Prayer, The [Great] Litany, and the Holy Communion. Until relatively recent times, all three of these were appointed to be said in every church every Sunday and Holy Day. Granted, this was often shortened in actual practice, and by the late 19th century it was probably more common for people to attend just one service rather than all three in a row. Yet the full pattern of worship is still present even in our modern Prayer Books, and the typical malnourished Christian of today could benefit greatly from a retrieval of the spiritual rigor of our forebears. To that end, we’ll be looking at different combinations of worship services that you could carry out on Sunday mornings in your church.

The Litany & Holy Communion

Perhaps the simplest combination of Anglican traditional rites is the use of the Great Litany with the Communion service. The Litany is a longish prayer list with full congregational participation throughout. It’s repetitive to the modern sensibility, but instructively thorough and succinct – a real balm for the “Father God we just—” prayers that often ramble on too long in current popular evangelical practice. There are three main ways that the Litany may be appended to the Communion service.

The first and probably least desirable method of including the Litany in the Communion liturgy is to replace the Prayers of the People with the Great Litany – starting at its beginning (page 91) and ending it just before the Kyrie on page 96. This is not how the Litany was or is meant to be used, and this has no historical precedence. I mention this only because it is permitted by the Communion rubrics to replace the Prayers of the People with something else that meets certain standards, the Litany easily fulfills those standards, and a congregation who has never seen the Litany before in their entire lives might be most easily introduced to it in a familiar spot in the known Communion liturgy.

The second and third ways to bring the Litany into Sunday worship, connected to the Communion service, is by starting with the Litany itself and switching over to the Communion at a certain point.

One way to do this is to treat the Great Litany as if it were a “hymn, psalm, or anthem” at the start of the worship service. You go through as much of the Litany as you want, using whichever ending you prefer to choose (the rubrics on page 97 note what these two endings are), and after that begin the Communion service at the Acclamation. This has the benefit of simplicity and breadth of coverage: the congregation experiences the Litany in its full, nothing of the regular service is omitted, and (as a handy bonus) they’ll experience the two worship services most closely to how the historic Prayer Books intended for them to be observed. The downside, of course, is the length of all this. Plus the stop-and-start where Litany ends and Communion starts may be a jarring experience for a congregation unused to the larger breadth of Prayer Book worship.

Lastly, the other approach is to utilize the rubric on page 96, which direct that the Litany be terminated there at the Kyrie and the Communion liturgy picked up at the salutation leading into the Collect of the Day. This is the “combo-pack” invented for the 1979 Prayer Book, and honestly makes for a smooth transition from one service to the other, thanks especially to the Kyrie being a familiar component to both orders functioning as a hinge linking them together. The 1979 Prayer Book further allowed the Prayers of the People to be skipped when the Litany is used like this, though our 2019 Book has not retained that particular allowance.

In my own experience, I have used (parts of) the Litany in place of the Prayers of the People once or twice, but most often I go with the third, rubrical, choice. With occasional exception, I appoint the Litany seven times a year: Advent 1, Epiphany 3, Lent 1, Lent 5, Easter 6 (Rogation), Proper 10, and Proper 20. This way, my flock develops at least a little familiarity with the Litany without feeling overburdened by a lengthy devotion that “nobody else has to do!” You may find another pattern of use may suit your context better. The Additional Directions on page 99 provide a few suggestions to this end, also.

Some Modern Issues in Early Forms

I have a back-and-forth relationship with liturgical revisionism. Some changes are good, some changes are bad, and some changes are indifferently suitable to particular times and cultures.

The worship of the Church doesn’t need to be a total and complete time capsule (and indeed in many cases where antiquity of form is most loudly proclaimed, great anachronisms betray the claim). But neither does the Church benefit her members with total and complete innovation into the untested waters of a given rector’s flight of fancy. Good liturgical revision, in my estimation anyway, acknowledges the validity, power, and truthfulness of previous rites and forms, merely presenting “a new spin on an old classic.” If what we celebrate today rejects the forms of antiquity, then we have not reformed the Church’s faith & practice, but replaced it.

I don’t say this to disparage any particular Prayer Book, but to remind myself and others to be honest about the trends of revision and amendment for the past full century. It is all too fashionable to oversimplify our assessments of one or another product along the course of history. For example, we orthodox Anglicans in North America often vilify the Episcopalian Prayer Book of 1979. And it is a deeply flawed book that is extremely revolutionary, rather than reforming of previous liturgical forms. That said, however, several strands of “revolutionizing” ideology can be seen in the promulgation of the 1928 Prayer Book (often beloved among traditional Anglicans).

Many American Anglicans look fondly upon the 1928 Prayer Book as the last edition (and bastion) of historic Anglican liturgy. However, not all of its editors would agree with that assessment. Rather, there was a fair amount of language regarding it as a positively radical correction and improvement upon the old ways. Consider this excerpt from a 1929 booklet:

The revision of the 1892 Book is far-reaching, and in some instances radical. It extends not only to language, but also to theological statement. All passages of Holy Scripture are now taken from the Revised Version and in some cases the marginal rendering has been adopted. There is an entirely new translation of the Psalter correcting many obvious errors. In Psalm XIV these verses are deleted:

5 Their throat is an open sepulchre; with their tongues have they deceived: the poison of asps is under their lips.
6 Their mouth is full of cursing and bitterness: their feet are swift to shed blood.
7 Destruction and unhappiness is in their ways, and the way of peace have they not known: there is no fear of God before their eyes.

In the judgment of the best Hebrew scholars these verses are a late interpolation and are foreign to the thought of the Psalm. The relaxation of the requirement to read the Psalter for the day obviates the necessity of reciting in the public services those Psalms or parts of Psalms which call down the curses of heaven upon enemies–the “imprecatory” Psalms. No longer will a congregation of Christian people be compelled to say of a fellow man:–

Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.
Let his children be vagabonds, and beg their bread….
Let there be no man to pity him, nor to have compassion upon his fatherless children.
Let his posterity be destroyed; and in the next generation let his name be clean put out.

Note the desire for a “liturgical adventure,” a “living liturgy” free of archaisms and medieval theology… this is the exact same trend that yielded the far-more-controversial 1979 Prayer Book!

The Prayer Book of 1892 lasted thirty-six years. It was never satisfactory. The Convention which adopted it was not only conservative, but timid. It hesitated to embark on a liturgical adventure. Revision was reduced to a minimum. Archaic expressions were retained and much of its theology savored of the middle ages. For the most part the painstaking labor of twelve long years was embalmed in the “Book Annexed” which remains a melancholy movement of what might have been done to make a living Liturgy. The consequence was the Church outgrew her own Prayer Book.

Many modern worshipers are accustomed to the Ten Commandments being read in an abbreviated form at the beginning of the Communion service (if they’re read at all anymore). This shortening begins with the 1928 Prayer Book. Was it save time? No, it was because revisionists didn’t want it in there at all!

The growing conviction that the Ten Commandments have no proper place in the service of Holy Communion finds expressions in a significant permission to modify their recital by the omission of the reasons for their observance; reasons which have lost their point and force in modern times.

As for the doctrine of original sin, many of the 1928 revisers wanted no part in it:

The opening sentence of the exhortation in the Office of Baptism, reading, “forasmuch as all men are conceived and born in sin,” has long been deeply resented, so much so that many of the clergy refused to read it. It has happily been deleted in the new Book as having no warrant in Holy Scripture; the old prayer quoting the saving of Noah and the passage of Israel through the Red Sea as figuring Baptism is now omitted, as also the phrase that the infant may “be delivered from thy wrath.” The unhappy prayer, “grant that the old Adam in this child may be so buried, that the new man may be raised up in him,” is changed to read, “grant that like as Christ died and rose again, so this child may die to sin and rise to newness of life.”

Old liturgy is gloomy, they said, and a liturgical revolution was necessary.

The Office for the Visitation of the Sick has been so changed as to be hardly recognizable in its new form. As it appeared in the old Prayer Book it was so gloomy, so medieval in its theology and so utterly lacking in any understanding of the psychological approach to sick persons, that it had almost ceased to be used in the church. Its basic assumption was that not only is all sickness sent by God, but it is sent as a just punishment for some wrong done. …In the new Book the whole tone of the service has been revolutionized.

What about all the gender issues in the post-modern church? Even those revisionist tendencies can be seen in 1928:

The most significant change [to the Solemnization of Holy Matrimony] is that the vows and promises of the man and the woman are made exactly alike by the omission of the word “obey.” They both undertake precisely the same obligation. In the giving of the ring the bridegroom is no longer called upon to say, “with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”

Again, I’m not trying to cast shade on the American Book of 1928 – in fact there is a great deal of its material that I appreciate (even including some of its innovations). We’ve got to admit, though, that it is different from the books of 1789 & 1892, and of 1662. Distinct trends of revision and amendment can be seen each step of the way, and an honest assessment must admit that not every change, and reason for change, is wise. It is often popular and easy to fall into a “golden age” mentality, favoring one or another Prayer Book, or epoch of our history, as the Best of Days that we need to return to. Even if we have favorites, though, we need to be able to identify and reckon with the dangerous forces that were present in those days, lest we narrow the scope of our vision, oversimplify the matter, and entrap ourselves in curious quarrels over liturgical matters that will easily miss the point of both past and present needs.

(And again, the source of these quotes about the then-new 1928 Prayer Book is here: http://anglicanhistory.org/bcp/chorley1929/07.html)

What’s on the Altar Table?

The most prominent element in a liturgical church’s worship space is the Holy Table or Altar, where the prayers are read and the Communion is celebrated. The nomenclature and its ornamentation has a history of some controversy, though most of those arguments are very much muted today.

The Prayer Book consistently refers to the Table or Holy Table, rather than an Altar. This was to appease those who found the term Altar objectionable, cautious as many were to distance themselves from the Roman view of the sacrifice of the mass. For others it was a matter of emphasis: better to speak of God’s Board or Table (where we feast) than of the Altar (where we make a sacrifice). Nevertheless, the altar terminology never entirely left Protestant discourse; we have always recognized the sacrificial aspect of the Holy Communion, and thus you typically will hear people today using the terms synonymously.

Another controversy in the days of the Reformation was what to put on this table or altar. There was a period of time when even candles were banned, for fear of symbolizing the Roman doctrine of transubstantiation. This was eventually conceded to be excessive – the use of candles (and indeed nearly all Christian liturgical ornamentation and beauty) long precedes any late medieval abuses thereof. Thus even in “low church” settings it is not unusual to see a pair of candles and a cross on an altar table. After all, many ancient traditions have practical origins: candles on the altar helps the person(s) there to read the books!

The only ornament that remained a requirement in Anglican practice is the “fair linen cloth” to be draped over the holy table. This was in part a continuation of ancient practice, in part a symbol of cleanliness and holiness, in part an act of beauty and decency and decorum. Like the white robes worn by the saints in the Book of the Revelation, and the white pall draped over a coffin at a funeral, the fair linen cloth hides the tabletop (be it expensive and beautiful, or inexpensive and plain), emphasizing the holiness with which Christ clothes us, creating an equality and common ground that we would not otherwise have. One altar may be very ornately carved and another holy table may be a plastic fold-up (spoiler alert, that’s what we’ve got, still!), but the white cloth covers that up and says “whatever’s underneath here doesn’t really matter; what matters is that Christ is served here.”

Grace Anglican Church has had this altar cloth, cross, candle set, and bookstand for most of its history. The cross comes with kind of a funny story. When it was first purchased and arrived, a parishioner set it on the table. The cross being nearly two feet tall and the celebrant being on the shorter side of average, it stood squarely in his face, a strange barrier between him and the congregation. So during that morning’s setup he said “Here’s how we solve this!” – he pushed the table up against the wall and celebrated ad orientem instead of versus populum. Many of my readers know these terms, but some of you may not.

Worship ad orientem means “toward the East” – that is, the priest & people all face East together: toward the altar. Worship versus populum (or is it populorum? I decline to remember which, if you’ll pardon my Latin pun) means “against the people” – that is, the priest and the people are facing one another. Most traditional altars are built against the wall (either literally East or just symbolically East), such that when the celebrant prays here he is facing in the same direction as everyone else. In the 20th century some liturgical reformers decided it was not very hospitable to have the priest’s back turned to the people, so a different ancient arrangement was dredged up from the history books – versus populum – which necessitates a freestanding altar or table that the priest stands behind such that when he is praying, the people can see his face as well as everything on the table.

The Prayer Book tradition has a hybrid setup often called North Facing, as the priest is directed to stand at the “North end” (congregation’s left) side of the holy table to celebrate communion. This has been implemented in a couple different ways, and I’m not really well-versed in this practice, so I’ll not wade any further into this subject lest I teach something incorrect.

All that to say, Grace Anglican Church has been an ad orientem worshiping community for about 10 years simply because of the furnishings! And frankly, I found it a much more comfortable posture for the prayers than facing the congregation – I’m not praying to them and they aren’t praying to me! We’re all praying together, to one Lord.

The bookstand is another common tool found on most altar tables – it elevates and angles the Prayer Book, Bible, binder, or other form of text, so that the celebrant can see it and turn pages more easily. Ours, you’ll see in the picture, has the letters IHS in the center. (So does our cross.) This is often thought to stand for “In His Service” (at least that’s what I thought when I saw those letters as a child), but it’s actually the first three letters of the name of Jesus in Greek: ΙΗΣΟΥΣ, or Ιησους.

There are other things to be said about the altar furnishings, and other ornaments around it, but that’s all we’ll address for today. Stay tuned for one more bonus article in this Visual Tour before next Wednesday!

an All Hallows Eve liturgy

As most of my readership probably knows already, October 31st is the eve of All Saints’ Day, from which the name Halloween (or more old-school, Hallowe’en) derives. So, as this blog is inclined to explore, how might a church observe this night in anticipation of the great feast of All Saints?

Ask and ye shall receive! Provided here is a simple liturgy of Antecommunion – that is, the Communion service before (ante) the actual celebration of Holy Communion. You can just do a regular Communion service, for sure, but you may not be a priest, or you may be a priest with no congregation present. Why not just Evening Prayer, you might ask? Well, please, yes, say Evening Prayer too; that’s supposed to be said every day. This is something additional, extra, most appropriately said after Evening Prayer, and probably after the rounds of trick-or-treating are complete as well.

Three things distinguish it from a normal worship service.

First is the sequence of Old Testament lessons. This is like a light version of the Easter Vigil, wherein as many as twelve OT readings (with Psalms or canticles) are provided. Here we walk through the call of Abram followed by a number of stories of suffering, martyrdom, and perseverance. This is also an excellent opportunity for people to discover the close connection between Ecclesiasticus (Sirach) 44 and Hebrews 11, the former being one of the lessons in the lectionary for All Saints’ Day.

The second distinction is the provision of additional prayers that reference the saints and the departed. As the Prayers of the People in our prayer book end with a petition which acknowledges them, these work either as a replacement for that line or as an extension to it.

Lastly, the ending dialogue is taken from the Prayers for a Vigil that the Prayer Book provides for when someone has died.

Because this is not a sacramental service, full vestments are not appropriate; the minister would only need a surplice and preaching scarf (tippet). But if Communion were to follow, purple/violet vestments would be appropriate, as this liturgy is largely a vigil preceding the feast rather than an early observation of the feast itself. October 31st should also be considered a fast day, as it is a day preceding a major holy day, though good luck telling your kids that as they collect candy!

Receiving the newly-baptized

The liturgy concludes with symbols of the baptized persons’ new life being given to them, and the congregation verbally welcoming them into the Church.

The 1549 Prayer Book did this with two traditional acts: bestowing a white garment (with accompanying verbal explanation) and anointing with oil, followed by a final exhortation to the parents and godparents to raise the children accordingly, teach them, and bring them to Confirmation when they’re ready.  The external symbolism was reduced in subsequent Books, the minister instead reading a pair of declarations, affirming the efficacy of Holy Baptism: “We receive this Child into the congregation of Christ’s flock…” wherein the Priest shall make a Cross upon the Child’s forehead, and “Seeing now, dearly beloved brethren, that this Child is regenerate and grafted into the body of Christ’s Church…”  Our rite contains the first of these statements, the phraseology having been reworked, and with express permission to make the sign of the Cross with Oil of Chrism.  A second, shorter statement is also provided as an option, which is a holdover from the 1979 Prayer Book.

Additional traditional baptismal symbols (garments and candles) are also permitted at this time, both of which have their accompanying verbal texts in the Additional Directions on page 172. Where the classical Prayer Books contain the minister’s second statement about the regeneration of the candidate, followed by the Lord’s Prayer and a final thanksgiving, the present rite skips straight to that thanksgiving.  Although the emphasis on regeneration has been diminished by way of word count, the prayer contains the same elements.  It should also be noted that the reduction of this prayer’s length already began in the American and Canadian Prayer Books of the 20th century.

comparison across four Prayer Books, assembled by the Rev. Matthew Brench

Most of the classical Prayer Books follow this thanksgiving with a final charge to the baptismal sponsors, but that is omitted in the modern liturgy because the substantial exhortation to them has already been given during the Presentation of the Candidates.  Instead, the celebrant turns to the congregation and bids them welcome the newly baptized.  This, and the congregation’s words of welcome, originate with the American Book of 1979.

The exchange of Peace at the conclusion of the liturgy is both a transition point leading to the remainder of the Communion liturgy and natural outflow from the act of welcoming new members into the Church.

thinking devotionally

A secondary act, primarily symbolic yet still charged with powerful meaning, is tracing the sign of the Cross on the forehead of the baptized person(s).  This may be done with or without holy oil, and (as the celebrant here says) it betokens the banner of Christ under which the newly-baptized is hereafter charged to fight against evil.  For the entry to new life through Baptism sadly entails entry into the age-old war against sin; thus the first thing that the Church does for her new members is give them armor and encouragement.  The alternative text, upon the signing of the Cross, side-steps the militaristic imagery and focuses singly upon the “seal” of the Spirit.  This, too, can be a deeply powerful statement of assurance, protection, and love, if rightly understood.

After the newly-baptized have been marked with the Cross (and perhaps received baptismal garments and candles), the celebrant once again gives thanks to God.  In a way, this prayer reflects the Thanksgiving over the Water on the other side of the font, as it were.  Once again we thank God for bestowing the forgiveness of sin, for adopting the candidate(s) as his own children, incorporating them into the Church, and giving them the grace of new life.  We pray that these good things will last unto eternity, by God’s sustaining (or persevering) grace.

Last of all, the minister invites the congregation to acknowledge what God has done, and welcome the newly baptized accordingly.  The worshipers, with one voice, receive the baptized into their fellowship and give a three-fold charge.  First, the new member(s) are to confess of faith of Christ crucified.  This speaks especially to the call to catechesis: learning the truth attested in the Scriptures and growing in the knowledge and love of God.  Second, they are to proclaim his resurrection, which is largely a call to worship.  Similarly, third, they are to invited to share in “the royal priesthood”, which indicates both a worthiness to be in the presence of God (participating in the life and sacraments of the Church) as well as a responsibility to represent God to the unbelieving world around.  A priesthood, after all, is a form of intermediary, and all Christians are called to be go-betweens on God’s behalf to those who are still lost and dead in sin.  Baptism is much to be celebrated, but it is also just the beginning of a truly new and different life than came before. The sharing of the peace, in this context, is bound to be less a time of reconciliation (see the commentary of the Communion liturgy) and more a time of solidarity and mutual encouragement to face up to the common task before us as baptized persons – God’s people in the world.

Anglican Baptism: dunk or drip?

The climax of the Rite of Holy Baptism is threefold: the Naming, the Baptism, and the Reception.

The 1549 Prayer Book asked the child’s name earlier, during the Presentation of the candidate(s), but the established pattern ever since then has been stable: the minister asks for the child’s name, and immediately performs the baptismal act.

Classically, three components are essential to the formula of a sacrament: Word, Intent, and Matter.

Word & Intent

The baptismal formula put forth here is the standard Western liturgical text.  Eastern Churches have minor variances from this, the Greek Orthodox Church for example putting forth the following: “The servant of God (Name) is baptized in the Name of the Father.  Amen.  And of the Son, Amen.  And of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”  At each invocation the Priest immerses him (her) and raises him (her) up again. After the baptizing, the Priest places the child in a linen sheet held by the Godparent.  The front matter “I baptize you” verses “Name is baptized” is different, but the trinitarian formula is the same.  Most clearly, this is in fulfillment of Christ’s words of institution reported in Matthew 20:19.

Over the course of the Church’s history, the occasional controversy has arisen regarding the baptismal formula, especially with regards the validity of Baptism performed by Arians or other heretical sects.  Some people then, as well as some churches today, followed the example of Acts 8:16 and 19:5 and baptized people in “the name of Jesus” only – is this valid?  This is where the matter of sacramental intent comes into the picture.  The testimony of the Church’s great theologians, especially in the early centuries, admits that Baptism in the Name of Jesus can be valid if the faith of the one performing the baptism is orthodox – he is simply making an error.  If the full trinitarian formula is used, then the intention to baptize the candidate into Christ’s Body the Church is reasonably assured.  On that basis, even if one is baptized in a heretical sect in the Triune Name, that person does not need to be re-baptized in the true Church; but if a heretic baptized someone only in the name of Jesus, that person does need to be baptized properly.

In more recent years, additional controversy has arisen in the Roman Church regarding the phrase “We baptize you” instead of “I baptize you.”  This, they declared, was invalid, and thousands of people have been tracked down for emergency baptism.  Such strictness with the part of the formula not explicitly ordained by Christ is not, however, in keeping with the Church’s historic witness (much less with the Eastern Church’s current practice, which is not explicitly rejected by Western churches).  Ministers who edit the front matter of the baptismal formula are acting disobediently and ought to be corrected, but the change of “I” to “we” does not invalidate Christ’s Sacrament of Holy Baptism.

As in other cases, conformity to the liturgical norms is not a matter of mere pickiness with details (as some Protestant brethren assert) nor or is it an absolute necessity for validity (as some Roman brethren assert), but such conformity is key to the principle of common prayer, of orthodoxy – the meeting-place of “right praise” and “right doctrine”.  This applies not only to the words of the liturgy but also to the physicality of the liturgy, as shall be considered next.

Matter

The Greek word for baptize means “wash.”  Water is necessary.  A child dedication in a Baptist or non-denominational Church, therefore, is not equivalent to Baptism.  A personal and public declaration of faith, likewise, is not equivalent to Baptism.  As with bread and wine in Holy Communion, Christ instituted that water be used for the washing of regeneration in the New Covenant, and to omit or replace water with another substance is to reject his command and invalidate the offer of grace.

The controversies, past and present, surrounding the waters of baptism have instead concerned the mode or method.  The 1549 Prayer Book ordered three-fold immersion: Then the priest shall take the child in his hands, and ask the name.  And naming the child, shall dip it in the water thrice.  First dipping the right side: Second the left side: The third time dipping the face towards the font: So it be discreetly and warily done.  Subsequent Prayer Books dropped the specific instructions for three-fold dipping and further admitted “if they certify that the Child is weak, it shall suffice to pour Water upon it, saying the foresaid words.”  The language in the present Prayer Book, “the Celebrant immerses the Candidate or pours water upon the Candidate three times” is largely the same rubric; the difference is that the pouring of water should be thrice (with the name of each Person of the Holy Trinity) and dipping the person into the water may be either a full or partial immersion.

Opinions have varied over the course of history regarding the appropriate contact between the water and the candidate: from full immersion, to partial immersion, dipping in water, pouring water on the head, or finally to a mere sprinkling of water.  Historically, all of these have been considered valid; only certain sects or denominations have developed legalistic attachments to particular choices of mode.  Chapter 7 of the late-first-century document known as the Didache, for example, puts forth the following order of preference: “But if you have not running water, baptize into other water; and if you can not in cold, then in warm.  But if you have not either, pour out water thrice upon the head ‘in the name of Father and Son and Holy Spirit.’”  As Christians moved further North, baptizing infants in cold running water naturally became less desirable, and the favored modes changed accordingly.  With the improved availability of clean heated water in modern times, full immersion has risen in popularity in North America and Europe, and the warmer climes of the Global South have made it convenient to follow suit.  The Prayer Book tradition’s sensitivity to availability and health on this matter provides enough leeway to protect us from legalism on the one hand yet sets a standard wherein the visual symbolism of the act is preserved: baptism is the washing of regeneration.

Reflecting on the liturgy as we have it

The naming of the candidate is not merely a matter of logistics, reminding the minister of the person’s full name right before it is spoken in the baptismal act.  Rather, this is itself a meaningful act.  The parents (or other sponsors) actually name the candidate.  For much of European history, this has doubled as a legally-binding moment when a child receive his or her name and is recorded in the official registers.  Baptismal records in church archives is how much genealogical work is done, as well as verification of inheritance rights and other family-related matters.  Although the context is different, this carries significance for adults as well: being named at this time is the capturing of their identity, which is about to be given to God and baptized into his Name.  Some may even take on a new, or additional, “Christian name” at this time, betokening their newfound identity as a Christian.

Water then is poured upon the candidate(s), and the minister speaks the baptismal formula.  “The Name” of the trinity, as the biblical uses of the word imply, is a richly-layered invocation.  It refers to the power and presence of God.  It refers to the divine authority invested in the minister’s act.  It also refers to the identity of God and the unity of the three Persons of the Trinity.  In all these senses, the fullness of God is brought to bear on this poor sinner, with water blessed by the Spirit, to bring about new life that is ripe for eternity.