Sarx

[With this post from Rick Fabian's Worship at St Gregory's, we move from discussing the building and ministers to discussing the Liturgy itself. I believe this is what you people came here for. - DHR]

At Hagia Sophia - the Cathedral of Holy Wisdom in the Roman capital of Constantinople - liturgy began with clergy and people gathering and greeting one another. Then, together, they sing, and enter the church for worship. Elsewhere people filled the church and waited for the clergy to march grandly past them: a usage likely taken from military and magisterial courts, and designed to emphasize the power and status difference between governor and governed. That is the entry procession as most western Christians now know it; but the use of Haghia Sophia serves congregational worship better.

St Gregory’s liturgy follows the tradition began at Hagia Sophia. Thus even before the formal service starts, we form the congregation that today will celebrate God’s word and powerful acts. Everyone shares in the entry procession, with the clergy leading their people. We avoid thus the bizarre compromise common in modest parish buildings, of sneaking the clergy down the side-aisle while layfolk pretend not to see, hiding the clergy outside a short while, and then marching them in as if they had been somewhere else all morning. Such backstage shuffling creates an air of make-believe at the start, from which a church service emerges with difficulty. For more on the people’s part in early Christian entrance rites, see J. Baldovin, The Urban Character of Christian Worship: the Origins, Development, and Meaning of Stational Liturgy (1987) and T. Mathews, The Early Churches of Constantinople: Architecture and Liturgy (1971).

While the rite we use is the Episcopal Church’s Book of Common Prayer, people are not handed Prayer Books to follow, but only the musical texts they will need for singing, in a lightweight form convenient for processions and dances. Episcopal Church Hymnbooks await at people’s chairs only when needed.

On the hour, the tower churchbell summons the congregation from kitchen, offices, street and outdoor spaces to start the liturgy. Our Choir Director joins the other ministers in the vestry, where all together recite George Herbert’s poem “Aaron,” etched on the vestry mirror as a sacristy prayer. The vested party then exchange the Peace - warm embraces all around. As the Choir begin their entry song, a deacon carrying the Gospel book leads the ministers from the vestry to the altar area, accompanied by candles and colorful honorific umbrellas from the ancient churches in India and Ethiopia. Greeting the table at the centre with a kiss, the ministers pass among the people gathered round, welcoming each with a smile, a quiet word and gentle touch. The latter is purposely made with the left hand, avoiding an automatic social handshake, as we intend the opposite: a respectful yet warm and informal welcome.

The song ends with the hiss of Ethiopian sistrums and a deep Chinese gong. Sistrums were rattles, of Egyptian origin, mentioned in the Psalms, and are still used by Ethiopian Christians, who made ours. Our Bishop selected the gong in Shanghai, brought it to St Gregory’s, and blessed it together with many other Asian bells for our worship. At the gong, the ministers move to the table, where the Presider shouts “Christ is risen!” All reply, “He is risen indeed!” This bold exchange, translated into thousands of languages, has become the universal Christian expression of faith.

This greeting begins our worship every Sunday throughout the year, because every Sunday celebrates Jesus’ Resurrection. The Prayer Book provides a longer version of this greeting, extended with Alleluias that resemble vestigial Psalm refrains: an oddly decadent innovation. Because the text is short, such lengthening may facilitate musical settings; but for spoken use it cannot replace the terse original, which is the same shout of joy all over the world. We shout the original all year round - as St Seraphim of Sarov did. In Eastertide we shout it oftener, adding various musical settings of the Easter Troparion.

Now the Presider welcomes all, and our cantor introduces the Trisagion (Greek for “thrice holy”), a refrain once sung in popular processions gathering worshippers to Haghia Sophia, and here sung as a prayerful start to our service, because singing brings the congregation together as nothing else can do. (See J. Baldovin, Kyrie Eleison and the Entrance Rite of the Roman Eucharist, Worship, [1986]; and The Urban Character of Christian Worship [1987].) Following the Trisagion, we preview some of the songs we will use during today’s service. During Eastertide, in place of the Trisagion, we sing the Easter Troparion, an ancient text new in Episcopal liturgy with the 1979 Prayer Book; once danced in ancient Jerusalem and now widely translated and set to the tunes and dances of many nations. This troparion, or refrain, repeats throughout every Eastertide liturgy, each time using different music, each music reminding us of the different peoples who rejoice with us in Christ’s resurrection.

“Christ is risen from the dead,
trampling down death by death,
and on those in the tombs bestowing life.”

Early Christian liturgies apparently featured little music. Augustine and other fifth century bishops introduced congregational singing - despite deep misgivings about its sensuousness - to give noisy crowds something to do that might hold their attention and stop their disrupting the services.

Music has always been the most powerful vehicle for liturgical participation and renewal. At St Gregory’s we use plenty, and of good quality. Much we draw from the highwater periods of congregational hymn and chant writing; an increasing amount we write ourselves. Our choir perform rehearsed pieces for the communion and almsgathering; otherwise they lead the congregation singing in parts, unaccompanied or with rhythm instruments. A growing number of St Gregory’s members are musicians, and we welcome their talents supporting the choir. Congregational participation is the heart of our music program. People who like music like making music, and most can make it better than they think.