The Meaning of "Liturgy"

The term "liturgy" means different things depending on context. Considered as a field of scholarly inquiry, "liturgy" refers to worship in general. A liturgiologist is someone who studies how various religious traditions order their public acts of worship. In this general sense, Baptists are just as "liturgical" as Roman Catholics.

However, in the churches of the catholic tradition (I obviously include Anglicanism in this mix), "liturgy" and "liturgical" take on very definite and specific meanings that are not really applicable to the "free churches" of the Protestant evangelical tradition (e.g. Baptists). In this case the distinction between "liturgical" and "non-liturgical" is valid, and indeed this is what most people instinctively mean when they employ these terms.

Probably some of the best theological material on what the catholic tradition means by "liturgical celebration" is to found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

Considered abstractly, "liturgy" refers to the Church's celebration of the Paschal Mystery of Christ, preeminently in the sacraments. Indeed, the catholic tradition holds that the greatest sacrament of all is the "Church at prayer." In this sense, liturgy is the action of the Body of Christ with Christ as its head. The Church is "liturgical" in that it orders or sanctifies (i.e. "sets apart as holy") time, space, and material things for the service of adoration of the Triune God. Liturgy is thus practically synonymous with "Sacramental Economy." More concretely, "a liturgy" or "the liturgy" (with either article) refers to the specific formulaic or normative forms, standards, or conventions of any particular worshiping community at any point in its history (e.g. the 1979 BCP).

Although the Paschal Mystery is rooted in the historical events of Christ's life-death-resurrection-ascension, the Church nonetheless believes that the Paschal Mystery transcends historical event and is "made present" in all times through the Church's liturgical life. Hence, the Church itself transcends history, events, and times. Churches of a "liturgical mindset" thus see themselves as the continuation of the original "apostolic community," historically manifested in apostolic succession (sacramentally in its holy orders), and thus in continuity with apostolic churches of all ages. This continuity is not something to which our evangelical friends can easily lay claim, even though they also participate in such things as baptism and the Lord's Supper.

One example may suffice in demonstrating the difference between the "liturgical" and "non-liturgical" mindsets. Many evangelicals recognize and celebrate Christmas and Easter just as those churches in the catholic tradition do. However, the non-liturgical mindset views these "holidays" as mere annual observances or commemorations on par with other annual observances such as Memorial Day, Thanksgiving or Labor Day. This is not to deny that evangelicals recognize Christmas and Easter as being more important than other annual observances. Indeed, most evangelicals certainly recognize the distinctly Christian nature of Christmas and Easter as opposed to secular holidays. But the difference between, say, Christmas and President's Day (considered as annual observances), is really one of degree of importance and significance, rather than a difference of kind.

In the "liturgical mindset," Christmas and Easter are the two annual cycles around which whole of the Church Year is ordered. In and through these cycles the Church celebrates and relives the various "epochs" of the Paschal Mystery, which epochs are thus "made present" to us sacramentally. This cannot be said of Presidents Day or Memorial Day. So the difference is one of kind not of degree.

Praying Saint Patrick's Breastplate with Anglican Prayer Beads

The Cross:
I bind unto myself today the strong Name of the Trinity, by invocation of the same, the Three in One, and One in Three. Of whom all nature hath creation, eternal Father, Spirit, Word: praise to the Lord of my salvation, salvation is of Christ the Lord.

The Invitatory:
Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me. Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in quiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

The Cruciforms:
I bind unto myself today
the strong Name of the Trinity,
by invocation of the same,
the Three in One, and One in Three.

The Weeks:
1. I bind this day to me for ever, by power of faith, Christ’s Incarnation;
2. his baptism in Jordan river;
3. his death on cross for my salvation;
4. his bursting from the spicèd tomb;
5. his riding up the heavenly way;
6. his coming at the day of doom:
7. I bind unto myself today.

1. I bind unto myself the power of the great love of cherubim;
2. the sweet "Well done" in judgment hour;
3. the service of the seraphim;
4. confessors’ faith, apostles’ word,
5. the patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls;
6. all good deeds done unto the Lord,
7. and purity of virgin souls.

1. I bind unto myself today the virtues of the starlit heaven,
2. the glorious sun’s life-giving ray,
3. the whiteness of the moon at even,
4. the flashing of the lightning free,
5. the whirling of the wind’s tempestuous shocks,
6. the stable earth, the deep salt sea,
7. around the old eternal rocks.

1. I bind unto myself today the power of God to hold and lead,
2. his eye to watch, his might to stay,
3. his ear to hearken, to my need;
4. the wisdom of my God to teach,
5. his hand to guide, his shield to ward;
6. the word of God to give me speech,
7. his heavenly host to be my guard.

The Closing Prayers:

Invitatory Bead:
The Lord’s Prayer

The Cross:
I bless the Lord.

Or, in a group setting:
Let us bless the Lord
Thanks be to God.

Anglican Prayer Beads: A Form of Contemplative Prayer

From the King of Peace website.

Anglican Prayer Beads are a relatively new form of prayer, blending the Orthodox Jesus Prayer Rope and the Roman Catholic Rosary. The thirty-three bead design was created by the Rev. Lynn Bauman in the mid-1980s, through the prayerful exploration and discovery of a contemplative prayer group.

The use of the rosary or prayer beads helps to bring us into contemplative of meditative prayer—really thinking about and being mindful of praying, of being in the presence of God—by use of mind, body, and spirit. The touching of the fingers on each successive bead is an aid in keeping our mind from wandering, and the rhythm of the prayers leads us more readily into stillness.

Symbolism of the Beads

The configuration of the Anglican Prayer Beads relate contemplative prayer using the Rosary to many levels of traditional Christian symbolism. Contemplative prayer is enriched by these symbols whose purpose is always to focus and concentrate attention, allowing the one who prays to move more swiftly into the Presence of God.
The prayer beads are made up of twenty-eight beads divided into four groups of seven called weeks. In the Judeo-Christian tradition the number seven represents spiritual perfection and completion. Between each week is a single bead, called a cruciform bead as the four beads form a cross. The invitatory bead between the cross and the wheel of beads brings the total to thirty-three, the number of years in Jesus’ earthly life.

Praying with the beads

To begin, hold the Cross and say the prayer you have assigned to it, then move to the Invitatory Bead. Then enter the circle of the prayer with the first Cruciform Bead, moving to the right, go through the first set of seven beads to the next Cruciform bead, continuing around the circle, saying the prayers for each bead.

It is suggested that you pray around the circle of the beads three times (which signifies the Trinity) in an unhurried pace, allowing the repetition to become a sort of lullaby of love and praise that enables your mind to rest and your heart to become quiet and still.

Praying through the beads three times and adding the crucifix at the beginning or the end, brings the total to one hundred, which is the total of the Orthodox Rosary. A period of silence should follow the prayer, for a time of reflection and listening. Listening is an important part of all prayer.

Begin praying the Anglican Prayer Beads by selecting the prayers you wish to use for the cross and each bead. Practice them until it is clear which prayer goes with which bead, and as far as possible commit the prayers to memory.

Find a quiet spot and allow your body and mind to become restful and still. After a time of silence, begin praying the prayer beads at an unhurried, intentional pace. Complete the circle of the beads three times.

When you have completed the round of the prayer beads, you should end with a period of silence. This silence allows you to center your being in an extended period of silence. It also invites reflection and listening after you have invoked the Name and Presence of God.

Prayer for the Departed

Why does the Church pray for the departed? Simple: because they, like us (or, better, along with us), have not yet experienced the full redemption of their beings, which will take place at the resurrection. The Church on earth, entrusted with the care of souls of all the faithful, pleads the mercies of God in solidarity with all of its members, both living and dead. This implies nothing at all about the "state" of the dead before the resurrection apart from the acknowledgement that BEFORE the resurrection neither they nor us have reached the goal, and reaching that goal depends completely and utterly on the mercy and grace of God.

Non-specificity characterizes the Church's prayers for the departed; that is, the Church does not pray for temporally-bound "needs." Rather, the Church prays for the departed within the general intercessions for the whole Church, that they, along with us, may share with all God's saints in his eternal kingdom. Someone might ask, what profit lies in such prayers for the departed? But one might just as well ask, what profit lies in such prayers for those of us who still live here on earth? One will find the same answer for both questions.

Weather Report from Britain

I really miss English weather. Really, I do. It's not just the oppressive heat of Texas summers that gets me down; it's the fact that only the Brits know how to report on the weather with a little "class." Have a listen to this SAMPLE.

P.S. My friend, Jeff Steel in Durham, England, gets to wake up to this every morning. Imagine that! ;-)

One Book Solution, Part 3: A Table of Contents

KEY:
1662 = Revised along the lines of the Church of England’s 1662 BCP
1928 = Revised along the lines of the American 1928 BCP
1979 = As it appears in the current BCP of the Episcopal Church
1979*= Slight revision of current BCP of the Episcopal Church
ASB = As it appears in the Anglican Service Book (Church of the Good Shepherd, Rosemont, PA)

The Daily Office
Morning Prayer (1928)
Evening Prayer (1662)
Noonday Prayer (ASB)
Compline (ASB)
A Contemporary Daily Office (1979*, combined MP and EP)
Table of Suggested Canticles

The Great Litany (1928)

The Collects: Traditional (1979)
Seasons of the Year
Holy Days
Common of Saints
Various Occasions

The Collects: Contemporary (1979)
Seasons of the Year
Holy Days
Common of Saints
Various Occasions

Proper Liturgies for Special Days: Traditional (ASB)
A Penitential Order (1928, w/ imposition of ashes)
Palm Sunday
Maundy Thursday
Good Friday
Holy Saturday
The Great Vigil of Easter

Proper Liturgies for Special Days: Contemporary (1979)
Ash Wednesday
Palm Sunday
Maundy Thursday
Good Friday
Holy Saturday
The Great Vigil of Easter

Holy Baptism
Rite One (1928)
Rite Two (1979*)

The Holy Eucharist: Rite One
An Exhortation (1979, ASB)
The Decalogue: Traditional (ASB)
A Penitential Order: Traditional (ASB)
The Holy Eucharist (1928)
Alternate Eucharistic Prayer (1662)
The Proper Prefaces (ASB)
Prayers of the People: Traditional (ASB)
Offertory Sentences (ASB)
Communion of the Sick (ASB)

The Holy Eucharist: Rite Two
An Exhortation with Decalogue (1979)
A Penitential Order: Rite Two (1979)
The Holy Eucharist (1979, Eucharistic Prayer A)
Alternate Eucharistic Prayers (1979, Eucharistic Prayers B & D)
The Proper Prefaces (1979)
Prayers of the People: Contemporary (1979)
Offertory Sentences (1979)
Communion under Special Circumstances (1979)

Pastoral Offices
Holy Matrimony: Traditional (1928)
Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage (1979)
Thanksgiving for the Birth or Adoption of a Child: Rite One (ASB)
Thanksgiving for the Birth of Adoption of a Child: Rite Two (1979)
Reconciliation of a Penitent: Rite One (ASB)
Reconciliation of a Penitent: Rite Two (1979)
Ministration to the Sick: Rite One (ASB)
Ministration to the Sick: Rite Two (1979)
Ministration at the Time of Death: Rite One (ASB)
Ministration at the Time of Death: Rite Two (1979)
Burial of the Dead: Rite One (1928)
Burial of the Dead: Rite Two (1979)

Episcopal Services
Confirmation (1928)
Ordination of a Bishop (1928)
Ordination of a Priest (1928)
Ordination of a Deacon (1928)
Litany of Ordinations (1928)
Celebration of a New Ministry: Rite One (ASB)
Celebration of a New Ministry: Rite Two (1979)

The Psalter, or Psalms of David (Revised Standard Version)

Prayers and Thanksgivings (ASB, 1979)

A Catechism (1928)

Historical Documents of the Church (1979*)

A One Book Solution? Part Two

In Part One, I stated that the Green Book was yet another attempt at (what I consider to be) a flawed strategy, and thus will fail to satisfy most Anglicans. People will continue to use whatever they’re accustomed to using: traditional folks will continue to use one version or another of the classic BCP, and contemporary folks will continue to use (in most cases) services from the 1979 BCP. Whether the AMiA leadership envisions the Green Book project to be a bona fide first step in producing a credible "Book of Alternative Services," or whether, following Toon, the Green Book is viewed more as an "interim measure" (the "bait and switch" strategy – see my earlier post), is difficult to say. However, in the final analysis, this particular “two-book” solution will simply be unable to live up to its design.

Now here's my radical idea: rather than starting with the template of the 1662 or 1928 BCP as the basis for new contemporary Cranmerian rites, why not instead start with the template of the 1979 BCP as the basis for restoring the traditional Cranmerian rites for a truly one-book result? Now hear me out, this is not as crazy as my readers may think. This plan would involve the following rather simple steps:

(1) Perform "restorative surgery" on the 1979 Rite One services (Daily Offices and Holy Eucharist) so that they reflect more accurately the text and spirit of the 1928 rites. (I would also remove the current alternative Eucharistic Prayer in Rite One, and replace it with a 1662-style alternative.)

(2) Include "Rite One" services that are not currently provided in the 1979 BCP, e.g., Baptism, Confirmation, Compline, Noonday Prayer, and the Pastoral Offices. (The Anglican Service Book – produced by the Church of the Good Shepherd in Rosemont, PA – is a great resource here since nearly everything of value in the 1979 BCP has been rendered in traditional language.)

(3) In the interest of keeping the size of the new BCP manageable, a revision committee working on such a project perhaps could consider excising some superfluous services and/or placing some services (e.g. Consecration of a Church) into a “Book of Occasional Services.”

(4) Redress the traditional/contemporary language balance (currently heavily weighted toward the contemporary). So, for instance, some offices (e.g. the Daily Offices and the Great Litany) are perhaps best left in their traditional (1928) forms and some contemporary (Rite Two) offices either conflated (e.g. Daily Offices) or discarded altogether. I'd also replace the Psalter with the RSV.

(5) Keep only two or at most three of the alternative Eucharistic Prayers in Rite Two. (My preference would be simply to remove Eucharistic Prayer C. Whatever is done, do not discard Eucharistic Prayer D!)

(6) Make other changes as deemed necessary to bring the new BCP in line with Anglican consensus, while continuing to maintain its comprehensiveness. (For example, include an introductory paragraph to the "Historical Documents" section that clearly states that the Church is NOT relegating these important statements to the dustbin of history.)

A radical plan? Yes, probably too radical for those who hate the 1979 Book. But it is a VERY doable plan and I think the best chance for a “one-book” solution currently being proposed.

In my next installment, I will provide a sample Table of Contents that will shed further light on what such a BCP would look like.

Is there a "one-book" solution for American Anglicans?

Once upon a time, unity around a common liturgy was a "given" for Anglicans... and then came the 1979 BCP of the Episcopal Church (USA), which, for many Anglicans, marked the end of "common worship" as a distinctive characteristic of the Anglican tradition, and the beginning of the end for Anglican unity overall. The end.

At least that's how many traditionalists tell the story. Those who support the new BCP contend that the inclusion of traditional "Rite One" services is enough deference paid to the old BCP to lay claim to continuity with it, and to satisfy traditionalists at the same time. Obviously, the detractors do not see things this way, and have ever since waged open warfare against it, and against modern rites in general, which makes the recent introduction of the AMiA's new Trial Liturgy (henceforth called "the Green Book") all the more intriguing.

However, do not think for a moment (despite my recent remarks) that the Green Book -- essentially the 1662 BCP in modern idiom -- necessarily represents a significant concession of defeat, or an acknowledgement of the need to modernize the idiom of worship, on the part of Dr. Peter Toon (the guiding hand behind the Green Book) and his followers. It is not even an admission that traditional and contemporary rites could (or even should) exist together within the same cover of some future BCP. Indeed, Dr. Toon has gone on record many times that, at most, the move to contemporize Cranmer should be viewed as an interim measure -- what I like to call the "bait and switch" solution. The ultimate goal is merely to wean contemporary Anglicans away from the 1979 BCP (and other "defective" modern rites). The beauty and the theological soundness of the Cranmerian liturgy, even as found in the Green Book (the "bait"), will do its magic by eventually winning the hearts of modern Anglicans and others back to Cranmer's liturgy and to its traditional Elizabethan era idiom as well (the "switch"). But will this tactic work? I think not, and here's why:

(1) The Green Book is not the first attempt to contemporize Cranmer's liturgy. In fact, many such projects have been attempted, and each one has produced less than stellar results -- ranging from the banal to the sophomoric. Simply put, the strategy to woo folks back to the classic BCP by introducing a contemporary version of it does not seem to work, at least not very well. This begs at least two questions: first, why hasn't it worked? And, second, why add one more alternative liturgy to the plethora of alternatives already out there?

(2) In part, the first question can be answered by noting that the strategy is built on two faulty premises: first, that taking the "thees, thous, and vouchsafes" out of the Cranmerian rites will remove a stumbling block to those Anglicans who, due to years of disuse and/or non-exposure to proper Prayerbook language, are put off by such archaic words. Second, the assertion is made that modern Anglicans only use the 1979 BCP because no better alternative is available to them. Provide a Cranmerian alternative in modern English (e.g. the Green Book), or so it is argued, and modern Anglicans will drop the '79 Book like a hot potato. Both premises are faulty if only for the fact that the "thees, thous, and vouchsafes" are not the only archaicisms, and probably not even the most imposing ones, in the traditional BCP. Issues of lengthiness, cadence, complex sentence structure, complicated parallelisms, rubrical rigidness, inflexibility, overdone didacticism, dearth of celebration, and obscure terminology certainly play their roles in the general lack of appeal to the modern liturgical palate. Yet these issues are typically ignored in attempts to contemporize Cranmer's liturgy.

(3) But there is another, more important reason: many Anglicans, even conservative ones, actually like the 1979 BCP, despite some of its flaws, even if they are somewhat hesitant to admit this to the more vocal opposition. For years we've been hearing about how baaaaad the 1979 BCP was, that folks have been somewhat hesitant and intimidated to defend it in the face of fierce verbal assault. But in actuality, as the practice of many Anglicans bears out, the '79 Book turns out to be a very versatile liturgy with many laudable features. The scholarship behind it is really quite outstanding, even if it is also quite broad. There is much in it that is appealing to modern Anglicans: its "shape," the restoration of ancient forms and rites, its "patristic eclectisim," and its pastoral tone. I'm not suggesting for a moment that the Book doesn't have flaws and deficiencies; only that the '79 Book does not come close to being the demon-possessed tome that its detractors make it out to be.

Finally, let me end by humbly suggesting that the future course of American Anglicanism should strive to achieve two worthy goals. First, I firmly believe that it is a good, right, and appropriate thing for Anglicans to seek to preserve Cranmer's liturgy, and to promote the frequent use of it, in its original idiom no less. (Despite what my readers may unduly conclude from this article, I defy anyone to demonstrate a love for Cranmer's liturgy that surpasses my own. After all, I would never dream of dishonoring Cranmer's liturgy by "translating" it into contemporary idiom.) The second worthy goal is to preserve what has proven to be laudable and edifying in the contemporary Anglican liturgical experiment, many of the features found in the 1979 BCP. Can this be done? And can it be done within one cover? Is there a "one-book" solution? I don't know. But I will lay out for my readers some idea of how a "one-book solution" might look in my next two installments.

Until next time.

AMiA Trial Liturgy

Matt Kennedy over at Standfirm has just gleefully announced the publication of the AMiA's new trial Book of Common Prayer in contemporary language, a work in which Peter Toon had an overseeing hand. The Eucharistic liturgy can be seen HERE. A few months ago, a friend of mine in the AMiA sent me a copy of the trial liturgy (the "Green Book"). So I've had some time to look at it, though admittedly it has been a bit of a chore to get through.

My intial reaction to this was amazement that Dr. Toon would have anything to do with a project to contemporize Cranmer's liturgy. Could it be that Toon has succumbed to the theory that the only way to preserve a literary classic is to alter its idiom? (which sort of defeats the purpose, no?)

I can only account for this by supposing that (1) Toon has ever so quietly conceded defeat in the contemporary language debate, and (2) he has let his hatred of the 1979 BCP blind himself to the fact that he will now be rememberd as the progenitor of a banal and hackneyed "translation" (the most apt term here) of Cranmer's once majestic liturgy. Oh well.

The Anglican Practice of Open Communion: A "Barthian" Take

A question from the comment section of an earlier entry ("My Third Reason for Remaining Anglican" - Saturday, January 6, 2007):

DMARTIN ASKS: Do Anglicans believe that to share the Body and Blood of Christ is an act of full communion or not?

LEXORANDI2: Obviously, I can only give you one Anglican's perspective on this, but, YES, this is certainly the principle behind the practice of open communion in Anglican churches, even if institutionally (canonically) our respective ecclesial communities (i.e. churches) do not yet live into this reality.

I find it helpful to appeal to Barth's objectivist theology in support of the "open Table" practice, particularly the question of what is real and unreal about the Christian and the Church in light of our union in Christ. What is real about the Church in Christ (objectively and eternally so) is the Church's unicity and holiness. Disunity and corruption -- the very things we unhappily "live into" -- are unreal, and thus are things destined to nothingness. By "living into" them (through schism and apostasy) we improperly reify the very things that have been abolished in Christ.

That being said, over the course of my ministry I have become increasingly passionate in my advocacy for the "open Table." For, despite our tenacity to live into the unreal (with respect to such things as "orders" and tertiary differences in doctrine), I am convinced that the Anglican tradition attains her highest degree of "living into the reality of what we already are in Christ" in the celebration of the sacraments via her "open Table."

Obviously, she fails miserably in other ways...

(I direct my readers to revisit an earlier blog entry --Dialogue with Barth-- for a further elaboration on the real and unreal distinction.)

The Roots of Sacramental Minimalism in the West

By putting together Augustine's responses to Donatism and Pelagianism one ends up with a baptismal rite and theology which is considerably narrow in its approach in comparison, at least, with the great mystagogues of the West Syrian East and even Ambrose himself. Here, unfortunately, even if his responses to these heretical movements were necessary, we see the beginnings of a minimalistic approach to rite, interpretation, candidate, minister, and Church and a loss of sacramental and liturgical richness in favor of a concern for sacramental validity. While he himself knew a full and rich rite for Christiain initiation there is no question but that: "If ever there was a man who held that the solemn paraphernalia of the actual rite was of little importance, but that the sacrament of baptism by water was indispensible for salvation, that man was Augustine" (Frederick van der Meer, Augustine the Bishop, 1961). This minimalism in rite, formula, and interpretation will continue to reinforce an unfortunate theology of baptism even today as almost a privatized "minute wash" to rid infants, as soon as possible after birth, of the inherited sin of Adam (not necessarily of Eve) and so to ensure their eternal beatific destiny "in case something should happen." On this issue, at least, Western Christianity not only learned its Augustinian theological foundations well but has been abundantly successful through the centuries in catechizing the faithful. Indeed, although the practice and custom of infant baptism comes long before any theological rationale for it is made, from Augustine on, infant baptism will become seen as necessary and expected, rather than permitted, in the life of the Church.

--Maxwell Johnson, The Rites of Christian Initiation: Their Evolution and Interpretation (The Liturgical Press, 1999), 156-7.

How Dix distorted Cranmer's position

Until the mid-20th century, when Dom Gregory Dix proposed otherwise, the most common explanation for the verbal differences between the eucharistic rites of 1549 and 1552 involved the political pressures exerted on liturgical reform, and on Cranmer himself, in the last half of the reign of Edward VI. The coup de tat that brought down the Somerset government also replaced its cautious and moderate religious reform (in keeping with Cranmer’s own views) with the more radical and thoroughgoing agenda of the Northumberland regime. Significantly this change ushered in a favorable climate for the political ascendancy of the Züricher party -– consisting of reformers of Zwinglian sympathies such as John Hooper, Bp. of Gloucester.

Of the two rites, 1549 was seen as more in keeping with Cranmer’s mind in its articulation of Christ’s presence in the Eucharist. This did not mean, however, that the 1552 rite constituted a “different mind” or a fully Zwinglian alternative; but rather one that, for political reasons, had been crafted to be more Zwinglian-friendly. This view remained the standard reading of Cranmer's two liturgical projects up to the early 20th century, even among prominent Anglo-Catholic liturgical scholars such as the godly Bishop of Truro, Walter Howard Frere.

The beauty of this explanation lies in how well it explains three seemingly conflicting elements in the story of the liturgical reform that had produced the two Books of Common Prayer. The first was Cranmer’s insistence throughout the latter years of his life that he had only ever held two views of eucharistic presence: transubstantiation, and what he came to refer to as the “true and catholic doctrine” of the Supper, a view that he had come to embrace by ca. 1546. The second element consisted of the verbal changes themselves: namely, the softening, and in some cases the removal, of the 1549 rite’s overt instrumental/objectivist language to produce a rite significantly more palatable to the Zürichers. The third element was the fact that, even after the changes and often in spite of them, the rite could still continue to support a catholic reading, a fact celebrated by E.B. Pusey in Tract 80 (1836). It’s in this third element – this liturgical “sleight of hand” – where Cranmer’s true genius shines through.

A striking example of this sleight of hand can be seen in the removal of the phrase “in these holy mysteries” from the Prayer of Humble Access in 1552:

"Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood in these holy mysteries…"

To eat the body and drink the blood of Christ “in these holy mysteries” (i.e. consuming the elements) assumes an instrumental and objectivist understanding of Christ’s presence in the Supper; an understanding utterly abhorrent to Zwinglians of the period, as evidenced by Bp. Hooper’s refusal to use the new Prayer Book for this and similar reasons. Yet, while the removal of the phrase went far to placate those of Zwinglian sympathies, to suggest that this change irreparably altered the theology of the prayer would be a huge overstatement. The Prayer of Humble Access, even without its fuller catholic expression, was still capable of supporting its natural catholic meaning.

But such blunting of the instrumental and objective language would inevitably cause some of his contemporaries to wonder aloud whether Cranmer had shifted to more a continental Reformed view. This Cranmer adamantly denied to his dying day; and no serious scholar, not even Dix, ever questioned this testimony until quite recent times.

Where Dix departed from conventional wisdom was not in contradicting Cranmer’s testimony on this matter, but rather in proposing that the 1552 rite, not the 1549, expressed Cranmer’s “true mind” during his Protestant period, and, moreover, that this true mind was decidedly “Zwinglian.” For Dix, the changes made to the 1552 edition (rather than the edition itself) were evidence not only of Zwinglian influences on liturgical reform, but also of overt Zwinglianism in Cranmer himself. And since Dix believed that Cranmer was a Zwinglian even before he wrote the 1549 rite, then logically the 1549 rite must be Zwinglian too!

The problem that Dix would encounter, and one he would never be able to explain adequately, was the language of the 1549 rite. If Cranmer was a convinced Zwinglian as early as, say, 1548, then how could he have been so careless (deliberate?) in the use of such instrumental language of presence? The best that Dix could do was to explain away the language of 1549 as “ambiguous,” the sense of which would be “fully perfected” in the rite of 1552. In the final analysis, the 1549 rite was "guilty," not on account of its own deficiencies, but merely by association.

Thus, for Dix, the interpretive key to reading anything that Cranmer ever wrote on the Eucharist (even the 1549 rite) was to read backwards from 1552 through Zwinglian spectacles. Once this modus operandi is appreciated one can begin to see more clearly the motive and agenda behind it: nothing less than the full discrediting of the Cranmerian Prayer Book tradition.

Until next time.

Three Reasons to Discard Your Copy of Dix's Shape of the Liturgy

This entry comes from the comment section of my last entry. I thought I'd open this up for more discussion, if anyone is game.

Three reasons why you should discard your copy of Dom Gregory Dix's The Shape of the Liturgy, if you haven't already:

1. Dix's whole 4-fold shape of the liturgy thesis is contrived on his own speculation, with absolutely no historical verification or support (read none). As a result, those contemporary rites that are based on Dix's thesis are built around an artificial construct.

2. Anything of actual historical significance in the book can be obtained from better and more up to date works. So STL is utterly obsolete as an authority in liturgical studies, despite the opinions of a number of antiquarians and liturgical wannabes who still treat the book as if it were the most important liturgical resource ever written.

3. Dix never understood Cranmer's theology, but presented himself authoritatively as if he did. The resulting damage done to Cranmer studies and studies on the Anglican liturgy will take generations to undo (if ever).

Those are three reasons off the top of my head.

Sacraments as Language, II

…Perchance if Sacraments ever do enter into the discussion of Christians (which they often do in seminaries) so caught up are we modern Christians in re-hashing the old controversies which tragically divided Christendom in the 16th century that we miss the utter simplicity of them. This is because we have forgotten how to speak our "mother tongue."

Consequently we are accustomed to think of the Sacraments in one of two outmoded, if not unhelpful, paradigms. The first is…the objectivist model. The objectivist model places emphasis on the sacraments as operative means of salvation, captured in the somewhat infamous Latin phrase ex opere operato. Here we are encouraged to think of sacraments in mechanical ways, quasi-automatic in their effects. Grace is "produced" by them, or is seen as a product of their administration. Baptism is described in terms of implanting a "germ" or "seed" into the soul; and Holy Communion as a "medicine", "potion", or "remedy" for good spiritual health. Questions which focus on the validity of form, matter and intent, not to mention the proper ministers to celebrate them, pre-occupy polemical dialogue and debate both between and within various churches. Sacraments are viewed as necessary "channels" of grace, and inevitably the efficacy of the Gospel is very limited and exclusive – for only those who receive sacraments receive grace. It is not only necessary to go to church to be saved, but one must go to the right church to be saved.

Equally disturbing is the subjectivist model, spawned by reaction to the abuses of a Medieval Church in the throes of an addiction to a sacramentalism grounded in the objectivist model. Here emphasis is placed on the subjective sincerity – whether doctrinal, moral, or spiritual – of those who actively celebrate and partake of the sacraments. If there is any profit to be had or effect that takes place in the sacraments it wholly depends on what the participant brings to the Table (pun intended!). Baptism and the Lord's Supper – ordinances commanded and instituted by Christ himself – are at the mercy of the individual's sincerity. But…how "hearty" must our repentance be to convince God that our repentance is sincere? How "true" must our faith be before it rings true to God? The tendency is towards "Pelagian rigorism," which is precisely why the subjectivist model fails so miserably to lead a person to Christ.

Abuses associated with both models, the fruition of taking them to their logical extremes, is no doubt the primary reason why the sacraments have fallen into a general state of disuse and abuse in the modern Western Church. The objectivist model subjugates subjective (i.e., personal) response, rendering it redundant as a result. The subjectivist model subjugates objective effect (i.e., operative grace), denying it altogether in the process. Both tendencies are akin to the failure of the modern Western Church to understand the DISTINCTION IN UNITY of person and nature – a distinction altogether grounded in the doctrines of the Trinity and the Hypostatic Union. In the objectivist model, personhood is sacrificed on the "altar" of nature. In the subjectivist model, nature is sacrificed on the "altar" of person.

As a result, we fail to appreciate (ironically) the one thing to which both sides seem to pay lip service: that the salient point of the Sacraments is the gratuitous communication of God in Christ to believers, along with the corresponding faith response of believers to God in Christ – hence, Sacraments considered as language and dialogue. In fact, I will go further in my definition of the term "Sacrament": Sacraments are Divine-language incarnated in tangible, created matter – water, bread and wine. Is it any wonder that the ancients described them as "visible words"? The ancient faith and universal consensus of the Church has always affirmed that the Sacraments which the Church celebrates in faith necessarily have a spiritual efficacy which we call "grace," precisely because they are grounded in the truth and the event of the Incarnation – the "hem" of Jesus' garment. Why is this? It is God in Christ who meets us in them, because he promised to meet us in them. It is Christ who clothes us in the baptism of his own death and resurrection; Christ who bids us to feed upon his own glorified flesh and drink his glorified blood. It is only when the Sacraments are once again considered in terms of language – the medium of true relationship and real presence – that we can begin to rescue them from both abuse and disuse in the modern Church.

Sacraments as Language

The recent discussion on language and grammar incited by my last entry is reminiscent of a lecture that I gave a few years back in which I defined the Sacraments as "Divine-language incarnated in tangible, created matter (water, bread, wine)." For the Church, I argued, Sacraments are the fundamental vocabulary of our "Mother Tongue." Here's an excerpt from the conclusion of my paper relating to baptism:

One of the first things that all new parents do at the birth of a child is to cuddle and comfort that child with the "coos" and gentle re-assuring sounds of their voices. It does not matter that the baby in their arms cannot define the words spoken or even that it will ever remember that particular moment. All that matters is that someday our children will understand. They will not only learn to recognize the voice of the parent they will also learn how to speak the parent's language, and consequently the language of the parent will undergo a transformation to become the language of the family. Someday they too will be parents and cuddle and comfort their own children with the "coos" and gentle re-assuring sounds of their voices; and the cycle will be repeated generation after generation, "even unto the end of the world."

In Baptism in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, even when it takes place in the earliest moments of a child's existence (for those of us who practice infant baptism), God speaks to us in Divine "coos" and re-assuring words. It does not matter that we cannot yet understand what He says, or even whether we will ever be able to recall that particular moment. The only thing that matters is that one day we will understand: that it was at this very moment that our Father told the world "This is my Son, in whom I am well pleased"; that a Husband rejoiced with his spotless Bride over the birth of another child and its inclusion in the family; that our Mother, the Church, held a child to her breast and promised in the power of the Spirit to love, nurture, and protect that child from harm's way.

A brief reflection inspired by C.S. Lewis' understanding of language and metaphor

My thinking, indeed my whole theological method, has been driven lately by the idea of metaphor. As C.S. Lewis argued in his essay Bluspels and Flalansferes all language is incurably metaphorical, even that language intended by its speaker to be straightfoward and objective. It is just such an observation that led Lewis to believe that the more intentional we are in our use of metaphor the more meaningful our language is. Hence the poet speaks more meaningfully than the philosopher.

If I may borrow this observation, I would suggest that the liturgist speaks more meaningfully than the theologian. Both have their place in the church, but the discipline of theology involves the employment of reason to discern truth in the attempt to achieve objectivity. In doing this the successful theologian must attempt to minimize metaphor for the sake of simplicity in the hope of attaining clarity. On the other hand the Church through its liturgy, with its intentional use of metaphor, attempts to incarnate multiple levels of meaning that can never be completely comprehended or totally exhausted by reason. Simplicity is not the goal, nor is it ever the goal, of true incarnational worship. The Church through its anamnesis, or "effectual reenactment," of the story of redemption (the "true myth" of God using Lewis' meaning here) taps into a reality that cannot be detected by the senses or by empirical investigation -- all the more indicative of the importance of metaphor to en-flesh the truth of God. For this reason the Catholic priority of prayer over creed is essentially correct: the rule of prayer (lex orandi) is indeed the rule of belief (lex credendi).

Until next time.

Johnny asks a great question about the Invocation of the Saints

My cyber-chum Johnny Drums recently asked, "What evidence do we have that a saint in Heaven can hear what a man utters in his heart, or has the omniscience to hear and understand all these prayers at one time? To me, these seem to be attributes of God in which we have no part."

Well Johnny, you are certainly right to suggest that we have no evidence whatsoever that the saints in Heaven can hear what a man utters in his heart, or for that matter, what he utters with his mouth. But this is of no consequence at all to the practice of invoking saints. It is the faith of the Church that matters, in two respects: (1) that the Church believes that the saints, though departed this life, are nonetheless alive and living with God; and (2) that they continue to pray with and for the Church militant here on earth (the doctrine of comprecation). Neither concept should be terribly difficult for a Protestant to accept.

As for invoking saints specifically by name in our supplications, especially those petitions that employ 2nd person address, the Daily Office canticle Benedicite, omnia opera might be able to help us understand such language. Of the many stanzas in this canticle are such like: "O ye Mountains and Hills, bless ye the Lord" and "O ye Fowls of the Air, bless ye the Lord," as well as "O ye Spirit and Souls of the Righteous, bless ye the Lord." Now no one understands the first two of these examples in a literal sense, that is to say, that we would actually expect mountains, hills, or even fowls of the air to hear our exhortations to praise God; let alone would we expect them to understand what we were saying. This is metaphoric language, the truth of which transcends the literal dimension, giving us a glimpse of the realm of the eternal. The same could be said of the last example which exhorts "ye Spirits and Souls of the Righteous" by direct address to bless the Lord. Could not this same metaphoric use make sense of the Church's language of direct address in the invocation of saints, especially in the context of corporate worship?

As I said in my earlier post on this topic, we pray to saints in the certain hope that God will answer the general requests of the Church Triumphant in specific ways for us.

My Thoughts: The Invocation of the Saints

From the Church Militant's earliest and best instinct that in the liturgy she was praying with the Church Triumphant (comprecation of the saints), it is only natural that at some point the Church's liturgy would begin to include general intercessions to members of the Church Triumphant (invocation of the saints). From there, it is not difficult to see where popular devotion would eventually take things. But it is an error to think that the invocation of saints stands on its own as a Medieval innovation or a departure from early church faith and practice; it is neither. Rather the practice of the invocation of the saints is grounded in, and follows from, the Church's earliest affirmations of the comprecation of the saints. That is why I find it helpful to think of saintly invocation in the following way: it is but prayer offered in the certain hope that God will answer the general intercessions of the Church Triumphant in specific ways for us.

Allelulia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Allelulia!

Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us: therefore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and wickedness: but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. I Cor. v. 7.

Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more: death hath no more dominion over him. For in that he died, he died unto sin once: but that he liveth, he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord. Rom. vi. 9.

Christ is risen from the dead, and become the firstfruits of them that slept. For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive. I Cor. xv. 20.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

Egeria's Diary: Holy Saturday in 4th century Jerusalem

Vigil of Easter.
XXXVIII Now, on the next day, the Sabbath, everything that is customary is done at the third hour and also at the sixth; the service at the ninth hour, however, is not held on the Sabbath, but the Paschal vigils are prepared in the great church, the martyrium. The Paschal vigils are kept as with us, with this one addition, that the children when they have been baptised and clothed, and when they issue from the font, are led with the bishop first to the Anastasis.

2. The bishop enters the rails of the Anastasis, and one hymn is said, then the bishop says a prayer for them, and then he goes with them to the greater church, where, according to custom, all the people are keeping watch. Everything is done there that is customary with us also, and after the oblation has been made, the dismissal takes place. After the dismissal of the vigils has been made in the greater church, they go at once with hymns to the Anastasis, where the passage from the Gospel about the Resurrection is read. Prayer is made, and the bishop again makes the oblation. But everything is done quickly on account of the people, that they should not be delayed any longer, and so the people are dismissed. The dismissal of the vigils takes place on that day at the same hour as with us.