Monthly Archives: December 2012

More on the Baptismal Litany of the Saints

A big thank you to all of you who commented here and to those who answered a similar call on the SCP list!

So—it appears that the practice isn’t as wide-spread as I expected and, undoubtedly, that’s a function of the types of churches I tend to go to. I’ve summarized it this way in the piece I’m working on:

One of the great triumphs of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer is the recovery of the Easter Vigil. This celebration of the resurrection reminds the gathered community that the story of God’s people and God’s mighty, saving acts recorded in Scripture are intimately bound to the community where new believers are baptized into the mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection, then fed a holy meal at a place that is simultaneously tomb, sacrificial altar, and family table. As this rite has spread, one of the local customs found at some churches is a litany of the saints forming part of the procession to the font at the time of baptism. A few churches have even brought this custom into every baptismal occasion, and as the gathered community prays for those who are to be baptized, the wider family of saints is likewise asked to pray for them and all gathered there.

This practice, while not sanctioned by the prayer book, reflects an organic understanding and application of the baptismal covenant, and makes a crucial move towards communicating our baptismal ecclesiology. Baptism is a beginning. It is the establishment of a new life in Christ. It is the gifting of the Holy Spirit, and the mystical union into Christ and the physically gathered community of believers. It is not the consummation and perfection of the life in Christ, but its start. The inclusion of the litany of saints directly after the baptismal vows holds up before the eyes of the whole community fellow baptized believers recognized not for their ordination status or because of their historical importance but because they offer us examples of a life lived in conformity to the vows that we have just taken once again upon ourselves.   They give us concrete, incarnate pictures of the goal of baptized life.

Furthermore, when we ask for the prayers of the saints, we make a strong statement about the nature of baptism and the life-in-Christ into which we are subsequently drawn: we affirm that the company of the baptized still includes those who have gone before and that they continue to share the same life-in-Christ and participate in the continuing ministry of the church as the baptized whom we see around us.

I do want to address the use and abuse of the saints briefly. There’s no question in my mind that the “cult of the saints” is a deformation of the Christian proclamation. There is a tendency in certain kinds of catholic devotion to treat the saints as deified demigods rather than exemplary fellow-believers. Indeed, certain practices around the BVM make me rather uncomfortable as I think the line between the proper honor she is due and the worship due only to the Uncreated God is crossed. Here’s my take on things in outline form:

  • Scripture tells us that we are to pray for one another and the whole world—this is a core part of the ministry of the church
  • In Baptism we are united to the life of God; we are hid with Christ in God
  • Nothing can separate us from the love of God and, by extension, the life of God including death
  • The baptized who have died still live in God in some way that we do not and likely cannot understand by means of bio-mechanical principles
  • If the baptized still retain their essential identity within this post-death state then they still continue in the ministry of the church including intercession for the Church and the world
  • When we ask the saints to “pray for us” we are not necessarily praying to an individual with the expectation that they will hear us and alter their prayers to add us as a result of our liturgical request. Rather:
    • In naming them explicitly, we remember the full scope of the baptized and that our community includes all the baptized regardless of space and time
    • We ask God that we be remembered and included within their general prayers for the Church and the world

This may strike some (on both sides of the issue) as being weasely—I’d consider it being precise in such a way to honor Scripture, the tradition, and what reason tells me. The saints then are not mediators through whom prayers must be channeled in order to reach God; they’re fellow voices just as my priest, parish, and family pray for me and I for them. In naming the saints, though, I align my prayers with theirs, and reinforce my own commitment to live a life like theirs which is marked by service in the image of Christ.

Looking at it from a slightly different angle is the “Anglican Cycle of Prayer” model. We pray for churches we will never see and for people whom we will never meet. But in the act of praying for them, we are reminding ourselves of the scope of exactly what “all the baptized” really means, and we hope that we will be included as their church intercedes for ours. I don’t see this as being substantially different from asking to be included in the prayers of the saints, and I’ve never heard any one argue that we shouldn’t pray for other churches.

I am reticent on the degree to which the saints can “hear” us. I’m personally inclined to think that something more than an impersonal action is occurring when we ask to be  included in the prayers of the saints, but that becomes a much more difficult line to argue (particularly around what can be regarded as credible evidence) especially if it need not be.

Baptismal Litany of the Saints?

I have a question for the Episcopalians in the crowd… I have a sense that a Litany of the Saints is often used at baptisms in the Episcopal Church. Certainly we use it at our current parish, M’s parish uses it, and several of the churches we’ve been at before now use it. Is this just me and the kind of parishes that I look for or is this a genuine perception?

I should clarify, too: in the parishes I’m familiar with, the Litany is sung either as an addition to or after the Prayers for the Candidates on p. 305 as the baptismal party is going from the front of the church to the font. Checking the rubrics, it seems to fall under 10th note in the Additional directions that states: “If the movement to the font is a formal procession, a suitable psalm, such as Psalm 42, or a hymn or anthem may be sung” (BCP, 312).

What’s your experience? Does your parish use a baptismal Litany of the Saints? Do other parishes in your experience? How common is this?

Fragments on the Saints

  • I used to think that the Episcopal reticence to use the word “saint” was out of deference to evangelical squeamishness. I’m coming to understand that it has far less to do with that and much more to do with a broad-church squeamishness around the idea of holiness.
  • I understand perfectly well the banality of modern life. What I ask of my saints is the capacity to crack open reality and reveal to me the numinous life of God hid within it.

One of my intellectual heroes is the late Victorian churchman and scholar Walter H. Frere, sometime Bishop of Truro. I’ve used his writings rather extensively in formulating my own thoughts around liturgy ceremonial and what-not and see him as a solid Anglican voice rooted in the catholic faith, a thoughtful and moderate man in the best senses of those words.

Today I find myself at odds with him.

I’ve been reading through the book of his that I find the most provocative, Some Principles of Liturgical Reform, published in 1911, part of the lead up to the doomed 1928 revision of the English Book of Common Prayer.  The second chapter focuses upon the revision of the kalendar. Here he writes:

Now there are three principles that have operated in the formation of Kalendars. First they are designed to commemorate the chief events of redemption as recorded in the New Testament; secondly to maintain a memorial of local saints, especially martyrs; thirdly to recall the heroes of Christendom, who claim remembrance on other grounds than those of local interest, because of their prominence in the general history of the Church, or in the Bible. These principles were recognized as regulative in the various processes by which the present Kalendar of the [1662] Prayer Book was reached; but different relative value and force has been assigned to them at different times. The first principle has everywhere produced the same general scheme for the ecclesiastical year; and in this respect our revisers had only to carry on what they found already dominant, refusing to destroy the ecclesiastical year, as the extreme reformers did.

They also characteristically laid far more stress than had been laid before on the biblical element. Cranmer at one time seems to have contemplated a very full Kalendar containing biblical names in riotous and revolutionary profusion; but the eventual Kalendar of the First Prayer Book of 1549 as more modest and more conservative. . . . [T]he Red Letter days of the Kalendar are governed purely by biblical principle, rather jealously applied.

It is not so easy to determine what principle has governed the selection of the “Black Letter” days. Biblical festivals, such as the transfiguration or S. Mary Magdalene, which might have claimed a place in the other category are found here, not there. The principle of local interest which in the earlier ages was so powerful, seems to have had little force, though it was probably responsible for the introduction of the names of S. Alban and the Venerable Bede in 1661. A not very discriminating adherence to the chief days of the familiar Sarum Kalendar seems the most reasonable explanation of what was done in 1561. This is not a very convincing reason for retaining what we have, and the case seems therefore to be open for reconsideration. (Frere, Some Principles, 20-21).

He makes reference in passing to Vernon Staley’s book on the Church Year that contains the best study that I’ve seen on the 1662 kalendar and, in particular, the process in 1561 that added a host of black letter days. Come to think of it, I’ve got an e-book version of Staley’s book that I did but never got around to releasing as a Kindle book. If there’s sufficient interest I’ll try and get it rounded off an submitted to the Kindle Store. (And when *I* say e-book, I don’t mean a half-assed text file—I mean a fully proofread work with hyperlinks and page numbers tied back to the physical version…)

After Frere identifies these three major kinds of commemorations, he offers two principles for discernment:

The chief questions that must be asked are two: first, whether there is sufficient historical justification for the inclusion of the candidate in any kalendar; and secondly, whether it can command sufficient interest to make it suitable to the Kalendar of any particular Church. It will be simplest to deal with the second of these first.

If a festival is to command interest, it will do so, either because of its bearing on the general history of the Church, biblical or otherwise, or because of its special connexion with local history. Besides the ordinary and obvious ways by which a Saint’s Day or a Holy Day may be held to qualify under the last heading, there are two less obvious points to be kept in view—namely its popularity in ancient English Kalendars, and in English Church dedications.

He then has a long aside on English churches dedicated to saints and how some of the black letter commemorations weigh in. He mentions the need for the difference between lesser feasts with full readings and collects and for memorials who just get a collect. Significantly, he’s quite adamant that these readings be for the Eucharist and that sanctoral readings should not displace the Office readings (concerning which I heartily concur—our own LFF/HWHM provide Mass propers, not Office propers). Finally, he gets around to the first principle of discernment that he introduced:

If Lesser Feasts are to have some real liturgical commemoration, it will be difficult to admit any to the place, unless it can be shown, not only that there is real historical support for the claimant’s case, but also such a story as can be really edifying. Further, unless there is only a Memorial provided, that story must be at the least one that is capable of association with some available Epistle and Gospel of the “Common.”

In the case of early Martyrs, the only really satisfactory names are those that can produce genuine and approximately contemporary Acts of martyrdom. . . . [A] claim which rests solely on a martyrdom must be judged by the genuineness, and the value from the point of view of edification, of the writings that it produces to support the claim.

But there is a second class of Saints which may claim sympathetic consideration, those whose cult is better evidence than their Acts. The Acts may be legendary, and yet there may be sufficient support for the main facts therein contained, available from good outside evidence to justify the acceptance of the Saint as genuine and worthy of a place in the Kalendar. (Frere, Some Principles, 28-29)

As far as additions of black letter days go, Frere first begins by going through the English church dedications of people not yet in the kalendar. Then he recommends some of the great teachers of the Church, particularly those of the East. Monastics also get added. Then he notes, “Apart from martyrdom, it is rare that anyone should obtain this pre-eminence except by being either royal, episcopal, or monastic. Again, virginity has hitherto had more than its share of representation, and saintly motherhood has had less” (Frere, Some Principles, 61). He recommends Monnica and Margaret of Scotland for this last group and also Katharine of Siena. Lastly, he makes recommendations of some local—i.e., English, Scottish, and Welsh—folks. A few post-Reformation names are forwarded too.

What’s so important about this particular chapter is the weight that it has had on subsequent discussions. When you look at the kalendar of the Proposed 1928 revision, it largely reflects Frere’s list. Even more telling, Prayer Book Studies IX on the Calendar cites this work frequently and the Calendar of the ’79 BCP is indebted to it. Furthermore, most of those left off the BCP Calendar are added back through LFF or HWHM.

What bothers me about this chapter is the apparent lack of theology or theological thinking. Apart from a few references to historicity and edification, there is no reflection on why and how saints are edifying and what that contributes to the discussion. I’ll suggest—and address at a future point—how this lack of theological reflection flows into PBS9 and subsequent Episcopal discussions of our Calendar.

 

Some Semblance of Sanity?

Things may be returning to the usual amount of crazy and email may start getting answered soon with the completion of this weekend…

Liturgically this is the season of Advent but practically, for our household, it’s also Nutcracker season. With two young ballerinas in the house and extra rehearsals every weekend starting back in October, it’s absorbed quite a lot of our time. And, since I was already committed to being at all the Party Scene rehearsals as Lil’ G was in it this year, I volunteered to dance as one of the Party Scene dads when word went out that another guy was needed.

So—between two Nutcracker performances this weekend, the in-laws visiting, Christmas pageant rehearsal at M’s church for the girls, and a subdeacon training session at my church, it’s been an exhausting span of days!

Now that the Nutcracker is over, there’s no more ballet 3 times a week (complete with 30 minute commute each way!) until January. At this point, my priorities are:

  1. Get the St Augustine’s Prayer Book editing finished up
  2. Triage on major breviary glitches
  3. SCLM work largely on the theological underpinnings of HWHM
  4. Answering back email
  5. Posting (which will likely be around SAPB or HWHM material)
  6. Cleaning up breviary typos and minor errors

Of course, all of this is tertiary behind family duties and work duties… Thus, if I haven’t responded to your email yet, please be patient with me!

The XV Oes of St Bridget

One of the most common and consistent texts in the late medieval Books of Hours and early Reformation prymers was the XV Oes of St Bridget. This unusual title is derived from the fact that this devotion contains fifteen prayers that all begin “O Jesus…” and is attributed to St Bridget of Sweden. It was most likely not written by her personally, but by the English strand of the Brigittine tradition (which is no stranger to these pages as the source of the Myroure of Our Layde and having strong ties to the English Anchorite tradition). It partakes of the same kind of late medieval affective devotion to the passion as the Man of Sorrows, the Image of Pity, and the Stations of the Cross all grounded in the affective theological tradition best represented by St. Bonaventure. Stylistically, I find the prayers similar to the Good Friday Reproaches in that they draw the participant into the Passion imaginatively, inviting parallels through the techniques of either ironic juxtaposition or reversal.

Since we’re speaking of a manuscript devotion, it should be no surprise to any of my regular readers that they have circulated in multiple versions. There are at least two very early English versions; William Caxton printed a version in one of his prymers, and Richard Day printed a protestantized version in his 1578 “Booke of Prayers.” I’ve not been able to locate either of these. (Though I haven’t looked terribly hard either…)

The version that I first encountered in English and seems to have a solid back story to it is this version at the ThesarusPrecum Latinarum.

Using that as a starting place and looking at a few other versions as well, I’ve come up with this text that I think both respects the traditional intent and structure while conforming to prayer book theology.

Thoughts, questions, and comments welcome.

From St Bridget’s Prayers on the Passion

[Traditionally, each prayer after the first was preceded by the Lord’s Prayer and a Hail Mary.]

O Jesus, eternal sweetness to those who love you, joy surpassing all joy and desire, Salvation and Hope of sinners, who has shown your desire to be among humanity, call to mind the sufferings endured in your Incarnation, especially the pain of your bitter Passion. In memory of these pains which you suffered for my redemption, grant me true repentance, amendment of life, and the grace and consolation of your Holy Spirit. Amen.

O Jesus, the Glory of Angels and the paradise of delights, call to mind the blows, the spitting, and the tearing of your flesh before your Passion. In memory of these torments, O my Savior, deliver me from all my enemies, visible and invisible, and to bring me, under your protection, to the perfection of eternal salvation. Amen.

O Jesus, Creator whom nothing in heaven or earth can encompass or limit, who enfolds and embraces all within your loving power, call to mind the pain you suffered when your hands and feet were stretched out and nailed to the hard wood of the cross. In memory of the suffering of the cross, O my Savior, grant me the grace to love and fear you as I should. Amen.

O Jesus, Heavenly Physician, raised high on the cross to heal our wounds with yours, call to mind the bruises you suffered and the pain of your rent limbs as you were held in torment on the cross, yet you did not cease praying for your enemies saying, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” In memory of this suffering, O my Savior, grant that the remembrance of your bitter passion may spur me to true contrition and the remission of all my sins. Amen.

O Jesus, Mirror of everlasting love, call to mind the sadness you felt when you looked down from the cross to see a world awash in its sin and the goodness you displayed to the thief to whom you said, “This day you shall be with me in paradise.” In memory of the depth of your pity, O my Savior, remember me in the hour of my own death, not weighing my merits but pardoning my offenses. Amen.

O Jesus, Beloved and most Desirable King, call to mind the grief you suffered when, naked and shamed upon the cross, all of your relatives and friends abandoned you but for your beloved mother whom you entrusted to your faithful disciple. In memory of the sword of sorrow that pierced your mother, O my Savior, have compassion on me in my afflictions, corporal and spiritual, and aid me in the time of trial. Amen.

O Jesus, Boundless Fountain of Compassion, who by a profound gesture of love said from the cross, “I thirst,” call to mind your suffering from the thirst for the salvation of all humanity. In memory of your mercy, O my Savior, grant that, though placed among things that are passing away, I may hold fast to those that shall endure. Amen.

O Jesus, Savor of hearts, delight of the spirit, of whom we taste and see that the Lord is good, call to mind the flavor of the gall and vinegar you tasted on the cross for love of us. In memory of this bitterness, O my Savior, grant me grace always to receive the sweetness of your Body and Blood worthily as a remedy and consolation for my soul.

O Jesus, Royal virtue, joy of the mind, call to mind the desolation of abandonment you endured at the approach of death as you cried in a loud voice, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” In memory of your anguish, O my Savior, do not abandon me in the terrors and pains of my death. Amen.

O Jesus, the beginning and end of all things, life and virtue, call to mind the length and breadth of your sufferings for our sake. In memory of your endurance, teach me to endure in the way of your commandments and cross, whose way is wide and easy for those who love you. Amen.

O Jesus, Unfathomed Depth of mercy, call to mind your grievous wounds that penetrated to the marrow of your bones and the depths of your soul. In memory of your piercings, O my Savior, turn the face of your anger from me and hide me in your wounds as wrath and judgment pass over me. Amen.

O Jesus, Mirror of truth, symbol of unity, link of charity, call to mind the torn flesh your body, reddened by your spilled blood. In memory of your rent body, O my Savior, teach me to live in unity and godly love with all for whom you suffered and bled. Amen.

O Jesus, Strong Lion of Judah, King invincible and immortal, call to mind the grief you endured when strength was exhausted and you bowed your head, saying: “It is finished.” In memory of your anguish, O my Savior, have mercy upon me at the hour of my death when my mind shall be troubled and my strength fail. Amen.

O Jesus, Only Son of the Father, splendor and figure of the Father’s glory, call to mind the humble commendation of your soul as with body torn, heart broken, and bowels of mercy opened to redeem us, you gave up your spirit. In memory of your precious death, O my Savior, comfort me and help me resist the deceits of the world, the flesh, and the devil that, being dead to the world, I may live to you in the world and, at the hour of death, be welcomed as a pilgrim returning home. Amen.

O Jesus, True and Fruitful Vine, call to mind the blood and water mingled that proceeded from your pierced side. In memory of the flowing of your blood, O my Savior, may all creation be washed clean from the stains of sin and find its reconciliation in you. Amen.

Pierce my heart, Saving Jesus, that tears of penitence and love may be my food and drink day by day that I may be converted entirely to you, my heart a constant dwelling for you, my words and works a constant witness to you, my passing a final return into you. Amen.