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Via crucis

April 18, 2014

National_Cathedral_rood

Almighty God, we beseech thee graciously to behold this thy family, for which our Lord Jesus Christ was contented to be betrayed, and given up into the hands of wicked men, and to suffer death upon the cross, who now liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. AMEN.

Decently habited, CXLI

April 16, 2014

36 women enter St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, to be priested in the Church of England, April 16, 1994.

Decently Habited

 

Decently habited CXL

April 14, 2014

On Palm Sunday, the sacred ministers face the high altar of St. Thomas Church.

20_Palm_Sunday_2013

On “Good morning!”

April 10, 2014

AS ANY CHURCHMAN will tell you, there are few things worse than wandering into an unfamiliar Episcopal church on a Sunday morning, hopeful that the service will be marked by dignity and quiet joy, and finding, instead, that the first words of the service are “Good morning!” It gets worse if a response is expected, or even worse, requested.

It is not incidental that the website Ship of Fools asks all of its church-service reviewers, “What were the exact opening words of the service?” First impressions matter.

The problem with beginning a service of worship with the words “Good morning!” is that doing so is both annoying and, as a matter of evangelism and ecclesiology, self-defeating. “Good morning!” is how one greets a neighbor, the postman, or even some loathsome acquaintance with whom one hopes not to enter into a proper conversation. If we have come to church seeking God, or hoping to find out more about this fellow Jesus, “Good morning!” isn’t going to tell us anything, other than that perhaps we have come to the wrong sort of place.

As Christians, we should disdain this sort of opening.

The Revd Dr. Mary Luti, a Congregationalist minister and divinity school professor, has written on this subject as well. She points out that, in the early church, worship services began always with an expression of the peace, and her words are worth repeating:

Since the earliest days of the Church, Christians who gathered for worship on the morning of the first day of the week greeted each other in this way: ‘Peace be with you!’ It was the first word they heard in worship, and it was a word from the Lord. They responded in joy, saying, ‘And with your spirit!’ or ‘And also with you!’

In many congregations these days this Christian greeting has been supplanted by a cheerful ‘Good morning!’ to which ‘Good morning!’ is the expected congregational reply–which, if not immediately forthcoming in the same cheery tone, is then ‘tried again’ until the minister is satisfied that everyone has gotten over whatever inhibitions prevented them from being sufficiently sincere and friendly the first time.

I wish we wouldn’t do that. Here’s why.

When we make this substitution, we effectively erase the experiential memory of the Easter proclamation that this quintessential Christian greeting conveyed from disciple to disciple every Sunday, every ‘little Easter’—the unfathomable peace of the Risen One that bathes the human person in glory and ushers us into the 8thand never-ending day of the New Creation with him. It is a gift of unimaginable riches with cosmic reach. Alongside that kind of greeting, ‘Good Morning’ seems a little pale, and a little beside the point.

Moreover, ‘Good Morning’, as friendly as it is, doesn’t pack much of an ethical wallop. It’s warm and welcoming, but it commits you to nothing. Whereas in the realm of Christian deep memory, to say “Peace be with you” and to reply, “And also with you” is to be immediately inserted into a long historical dynamic of blessing with shalom, the divine mercy and restorative wholeness showered on all creation, to whose bestowal upon us sinners in Christ the only proper response is more and more mercy showered on others by us—mercy for all.

And so this peace beyond all understanding, this good news about the character of God, goes out from God through Christ to the church as a transforming gift; and through us it is shared with the world—especially to the most objectionable, to the marginalized, and to the enemy; and then back it goes again to God in the form of grateful praise from givers and receivers in one unending cycle of joy.

All this is in a phrase: ‘Peace be with you!’ and its rejoinder, ‘And also with you!’—the most ancient Christian greeting we know, the most ancient greeting the church ‘remembers’ in this ritual way.

Whether we Anglicans, who have no history of beginning our worship with the peace, so begin a service is not the point. What matters is Dr. Luti’s correct observation that “Good morning!” is a greeting of the world, which provides not a shred of insight into the Christian life or the Gospel that we proclaim. Those who cross the threshold of a church to worship should be shown something apart from their daily experience, away from their engrossment in a world that is, as St. Paul says, bound by the law of sin and death. Much effort is expended making people feel “comfortable” in church. But if the world is broken, and if people feel comfortable in the world (which, by and large, they do), should we not try to make people feel distinctly uncomfortable in church?

Even the Diocese of Sydney, that body of extreme Low Churchmen, comprehends the very wrongness of the “Good morning!” school and the false allure of comfort. On the website of their excellent Better Gatherings initiative, they write:

Churches have different ways of making clear that a service is about to start. Ordinary greetings such as ‘Good Morning’ or ‘Welcome’ make people feel comfortable and link what we do with everyday human encounters. But biblically-based prayers, or reminders of our purpose in meeting together, focus our attention on God and what we might expect from him. God has called us together and we should acknowledge that from the beginning, in the way we speak to him or speak about him. A well-chosen hymn or song may also fulfil some of these introductory functions.

Introductions can be extended to give a seasonal or thematic emphasis, or lead straight to an invitation to confess sins. There may be special events in the life of the congregation to be noted. But, above all, it is important to focus attention on God and the prospect of listening to his word and responding with prayer and praise. We have not come together merely to have fellowship with one another or to encourage one another, but to meet with God.

I remember sitting in chapel twice each week in my distinctly secular New England school. Any mention of the word “God” would make us all freeze in place, silent and at attention. It was more awkward an utterance than anything the chaplain could have said about sex, drugs, or rock and roll, and we were desperate for him to move on to something else. God was simply not part of the fabric of the school, not someone with whose Word we were engaged, and speaking the Name of the Lord was jarring to our secular, morally relativist teenaged selves. God was too singular, too universal, and too uncompromising for the obedient political correctness that we all observed in public. He was beyond the comprehension of any language that we possessed, and we dearly hoped that each mention would pass without demanding a response from us.

I’m not making this up. “God” was simply the weirdest thing that could be said in that place. We would have much preferred “Good morning!” At least, then, we would have known how to respond.

SAYING “Good morning!” does indeed put people at their ease. But it also, perhaps without the speaker’s intending it, takes the wind out of anything religious that follows. It makes ease and comfort and joviality the true order of the day, and everything else – all of the God stuff – just a kind of quirky sideshow. It says, in effect, “Welcome to this place! We want you to feel at home and to come back soon. Now we’re going to say a few weird-sounding things about God and Jesus (which begin on page 355 of the Prayer Book), but really we’re open-minded, non-dogmatic people, and we’ll catch up with you at coffee hour.”

If this seems like an exaggeration, consider the inverse: when a service begins with the words, “Bless the Lord who forgiveth all our sins,” what does that say to the visitor, to the seeker? At the very least, it lets him or her know what we’re about, which is worship of God. Even if it puts that visitor off, it must cause him to think, even if the thoughts are along the lines of “Hey, what’s all this? I haven’t sinned that bad. I’m a good person!” It lets all those who enter the church know that we are serious about our faith. And even given that seriousness, we’ll still catch up at coffee hour and offer greetings and a warm welcome.

To begin with “Good morning!” is to take the teeth out of the liturgy, to degrade it as if worship were a somewhat embarrassing appendage to the hootenanny, rather than the fundamental task of any person of faith. As the Sydney Anglicans suggest, divine service is not a prelude to coffee hour. We gather on Sunday mornings to fall down in worship before the one, true and almighty God, not to feel good about ourselves and not to engage in some jolly camaraderie. The opening words of any such service should point toward the Lord and the humble service that is his due, and indeed it is a privilege – a joy! – for any Christian to hear those words.

“Blessed be God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”
“And blessed be his kingdom, now and forever. AMEN.”

Decently habited, CXXXIX

April 9, 2014

In Tewkesbury Abbey, the Chapel Choir of St. Paul’s School, Concord, N.H., rehearses before Evensong.

In the stalls.

In the stalls.

The Abbey.

The Abbey.

Decently habited, CXXXVIII

April 7, 2014

Acolytes and members of the choir of the Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill, Mass.

chestnut_hill_procession

Why the Psalms matter

April 4, 2014

Bishop Wright.

Bishop Wright.

Republished from RELEVANT magazine.

WE ALL love the Psalms. They’re a beautiful, poetic expression of everything from praise to pain to joy.

But sometimes, we can dismiss the Psalms as only beautiful poetry, forgetting that they are meant to be prayed, sung and studied, not just glanced through. In his book The Case for the Psalms, leading New Testament scholar (and former Bishop of Durham) N.T. Wright examines how the Psalms are more complex and important than we think. We sat down with him to talk about what the Psalms mean to him, our slant on the Bible and the importance of daily devotional time.

Q: Why make the case for Psalms?

A: Well, it surprises me that one need make a case for the Psalms, but in a great many contemporary churches, something very odd has happened, which is that many of the newer churches write their own worship songs—which is wonderful. I’m all in favor of people writing their own worship songs in every possible idiom—but they often simply forget the Psalms. You can go to many churches where if you attend week after week after week you will never ever sing or read the Psalms.

There’s something very peculiar about that because in pretty well every branch of the Christian tradition for 2,000 years, the Psalms have been the backbone of Christian worship. Certainly in all traditional denominations, but in many non-traditional ones, as well, it’s assumed that the Psalms are the heart of worship.

One of the staplines that the publisher has been using is “what would Jesus sing?” which I really like, because the Psalms were the prayer book that Jesus Himself used, and we can see in the Gospels and in the New Testament how Jesus and the early Christians used them, and it seems to me extraordinary that we would ignore that resource in our own worship.

Q: This book feels really personal. What have these Psalms meant personally to you as you continue to read them and pray them and walk through them?

A: I have sung [the Psalms] so often, I’ve prayed them so often, I read them so often, that it’s kind of layer upon layer upon layer of memory and imagination, out of which particular moments emerge when a particular Psalm has suddenly caught me and has meant a sense of God’s new direction or a sense of warning or a sense of encouragement.

And I look back on—how old am I now? nearly 65, and I suppose I started singing them when I was, I don’t know, 5, 6, 7 in church. It’s impossible to say “oh, well this Psalm means this to me and that Psalm means that to me” because each of them now has all these layers of memory.

Q: How do we remove our own Western worldview from our reading of the Bible and yet at the same time have the Bible influence our worldview?

A: It’s not exactly a matter of removing one entirely and doing something 100 percent different, because the reason why all the great worldviews are great worldviews is that they all contain elements of true insight. So it’s a matter of adjusting or subverting or transforming rather than simply throw away everything you’ve ever known and get something totally different.

I mean, to put it over-simplistically, today’s basic Western worldview is still as it’s been for the last 250 years or so—a variant of the old philosophy called Epicureanism, where if there is a God or if there are gods, they’re a long way away; they don’t interfere with us. And the Biblical worldview … says “no, actually God’s domain and our domain interact and interlock and mesh and blend and bounce off each other in a whole variety of ways. And that’s why life is often so confusing and exciting.” And so it’s not a matter of saying that everything you’ve known is completely wrong, because it’s still true that God is transcendent and God is other and God is different.

But, you know, this is complicated and many people find it confusing, but that’s because any time you start jiggling around with people’s worldviews they feel a bit sort of mentally or emotionally sea sick. But this is why the Psalms are so important—they will help us gain stability in that process and help us to inhabit a truer and biblical worldview which will transform the one we’ve all grown up with.

Q: So many believers run from having a devotional life, and I wonder why. Can you share a little bit about why you think there’s such a push back to having a consistent discipline of reading and how we can take next steps against that?

A: Some people quite like establishing habits of life, and other people feel imprisoned by that. That’s a personality thing. I quite like having some settled routines. And actually, I think even those who say they feel imprisoned by having habits of life nevertheless they always make a cup of coffee at the same time each morning or that sort of thing. So people do have rituals that they go through.

I suppose for me, somebody suggested or urged me when I was about 12 years old that it would be a good thing to read the Bible everyday. I started doing so and I’ve never seen any reason to stop. But at the same time, it’s like anything, it’s like practicing the piano—if you’re actually going to make any progress, you’ve got to be pretty regular. And obviously if you’re sick or traveling or whatever you may miss the odd day or two here and there. It’s not a sort of rule that the sky’s going to fall in if you miss the odd day. It’s that sustained discipline, whether short or long.

Part of the problem in our culture today is that people don’t like working at anything. That’s why relationships are so difficult. People think either it’s perfect or it’s rubbish, so as soon as it stops being perfect “oh, it must be rubbish,” so we throw it away. Most things that are worthwhile in human life, you actually have to work at them and only then does the real fruit come.

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