Clicking the Ruby Slippers

As I blogged a while ago, reading Dom Gregory Dix’ Jew and Greek, I was confused and surprised by his dual assertions that:

A) When meeting Gentiles, Jewish ideas about Jesus’ divine power needed to be expressly stated by assertions of Jesus’ divinity.
B) Nothing much changed as the Church evolved from a sect of Judaism to a mostly-Gentile movement.

But it makes sense, from a cultural standpoint. Even today, we hear about Rabbis who are especially holy and maybe even the Messiah. But we never hear of Jews saying Rabbi X is the Son of God and God Incarnate. Such concepts arise from Gentiles and from a Gentile reading of the Old Testament (and, specifically, from a Gentile reading of a Greek Translation of the Old Testament). Here is the original post on the topic from 2007. Read the discussion and you’ll find a link to part II. I’m most thankful to Fr E, William Tighe and Chris Jones for profound contributions to that discussion. (Rereading it for this post was a sheer joy!)

More

Worship as formation…

In comments to an earlier post, Donald Schell mentioned Juan Oliver. This warranted a google on my part. I found the following very interesting: It’s a record of a meeting of members of the International Anglican Liturgical Consultation at Ripon College Cuddesdon (3-9 August 2003) PDF document. Below are some of the “minutes” take during Juan Oliver’s talk on the meaning of liturgical formation. I underscore: these are the minutes, not his words exactly (although there may be some direct quotes). And the entire talk seems quite interesting.
More

Invitation

Making that last post from Worship At St Gregory’s called to mind an event…

Rick always gave the first invitation to communion: whether he was presiding or not. When he was sitting on the sideline or sitting in the president’s chair, Leesy would just turn to him at the end of the announcements and he would stand and say, “We are all of us Guests at Jesus’ table…” and he would, seemingly, ramble on for a bit and end with a comment about accepting credit cards in the offering plate and there’d be a polite laugh, right on que.

More

About the Episcopal Church

I wrote this essay for the website of St Andrew’s Parish. It may need some ghastly re-writes after this summer, but I think it’s very honest as of this posting. It is also biased, I think: it is my own inclusive views of ECUSA and Anglicanism. It is also why I choose to be Anglican.

The Episcopal Church is an American manifestation of the Anglican tradition and the local branch of the Anglican Communion. We were founded in the thirteen original American colonies as the local Church of England parishes by clergy and lay people who came to these shores, along with other immigrants, seeking various lives and ministries in “the New World”. The first uses of the prayer book on this continent were in 1578 (in Canada), 1579 on the California Coast and in 1607 in Jamestown, Virginia. After the beginning of the United States, American members of the English Church sought to establish their own church governance and so began The Episcopal Church.

More

Abrazo

I learned a new word, editing the text of Worship At St Gregory’s last night. In an earlier edition, the following text:

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.

Was changed to end thus:

The vested party then exchange an affectionate abrazo.

Abrazo is the Spanish word for “embrace” and I gather it carries some South-western US cultural references as well. I’d never heard the word before and had to google it, so I thought it might be a stumbling point and I edited it as you see above.

But neither “Abrazo” nor my edit can fully convey what’s happening.

The vestry at St Gregory’s is large - but not really large enough to serve as a dressing room for several priests, a cantor, several deacons and two umbrella-carriers. People come and go, vesting and leaving to make room for others. At the time for the service to begin a runner usually needed to be dispatched to find someone - no doubt out chatting with a parishioner or invited guest. And then the entire party crowds into the vestry and, as the text indicates, reads George Herbert’s poem “Aaron,” as a meditative beginning to the rite.

Then we pass the peace. The overhead lights of the vestry have been killed by now. There is only the dappled light filtered through the garden and coming in through the high windows. The congregation is quiet outside and we, too, are nearly whispering as we pass the peace amongst ourselves before presenting our gift at the altar.

I remember many warm hugs and kisses at this time. Smiles. Encouragement given to newbies, last minute whispered suggestions passed to the preacher. I remember hats being straightened and smiles. Smiles.

This was one of the most wonderful times of Sunday morning. It led to even better times… but it all started here.

Rick Fabian on Celebration Ad Orientem

I love this paragraph from Worship at St Gregory’s. I’m sure it’s exactly what B16 and others have in mind when urging a departure from the innovation of celebration Versus Populum. I post it here because it might get missed in the middle of my series of postings from his book. I’m sure some, at least, will enjoy the ironic support.

.

The table’s flat side is the liturgical “west” side: thus the Presider faces the same way throughout the service, at bema and table alike, effectively orientating the whole gathering in the same direction as the service progresses from “west to east.” L. Bouyer, in Liturgy and Architecture (1967) argues that Jews and early Christians orientated their worship spaces toward a focus beyond the building - facing the temple sacrifices or the rising sun, just as mosques, which derive from Jewish and Christian buildings, face Mecca - and that orientation is crucial for liturgical action and design. Bouyer opposes the current fashion for standing the Presider beyond the table, facing the people (versus populum or “westward” celebration) as a misinformed historical fancy that wrecks the orientation of ancient worship. Since adopting our present “eastward” arrangement, I notice that “westward” arrangements elsewhere do not kill orientation, but rather focus it disconcertingly on the president’s person - as indeed apsidal thrones were meant to do, when the military governor or magistrate sat there. By contrast, our plan puts the clergy among the people, to lead rather than confront them, and orientates the whole assembly toward the chief symbols in the building.

Church of the Resurrection

The Parish Church of the Resurrection (Episcopal Diocese of New York), parish of my dear friend, the Rev’d Canon Barry Swain, SSC, has a new website. Click around, explore; and maybe find a new parish to visit when you are in NYC!

Sermon’s Discernment (Pt 3)

In part three, we wonder what priest is at all if priest is not the lone eucharistic wonder-working member of the congregation, or (in the Orthodox understanding) the only channel in the congregation through which God might work eucharistic wonders.
More

Sermon’s Discernment (Pt 2)

What is ordination?

Is it a setting apart of a person for a job - saying the community gives them the authority to do the work God has gifted them to do?

Or is it the granting of the power to do a job - a job that couldn’t get down otherwise?

In Cam’s sermon from last week he made a point: that anyone can say the prayers. Anyone can stand around and wear funny robes. Anyone can read the Gospel, preach a sermon, pray for a newly married couple.

Process that for a minute: anyone can say those prayers. Jesus said, “whatever you ask in my name.” Not “Whatever you ask - except for certain things I’m going to reserve to a certain class…)

What is priest?

More

Sermon’s Discernment (Pt 1)

I’ve been wrestling for the last 2 summers with a shadow that won’t let go of me. It plagued me when I was Orthodox - only going away for a year or so - and continues to hound me. This issue, this shadow, is a sense that I’m called to priesthood. At times it feels very much like George Herbert’s The Collar. So much so, in fact, that in those times when I manage to run far enough away so as to be in a different place, I don’t so much feel “free” as I feel a failure.

When I left ECUSA for Orthodoxy, I ended up in the same place after a few years: wondering if I’d ever stand at the Altar of God, surrounded by his people in prayer. When I expressed this idea to Fr J, he directed me to the St Stephen’s Programme. But then things fell apart and, through first one thing then another, that path closed to me. Then I started going to St Mary’s, Asheville, and - in a reversal - despite my attempts to stay out of leadership roles, I found myself teaching Sunday School and helping the rector make liturgical changes. In fact, despite my best attempts, I usually find myself in positions of liturgical leadership as at every parish where I’ve been a member, Orthodox and ECUSAn. It’s been an ongoing reality in every religious tradition in which I’ve participated as well.

When I moved to Buffalo to be closer to Brodie and to seek a way to make that closeness possible in the long-term, I let all of that go. And, setting my path by two needs - no debt and a savings account - I began life here in the Frozen Tundra. But no sooner than I had shook Bp Michael’s hand did the Shadow find me again. But this time there was a complication.

More