Author Archives: Derek A. Olsen

Guest Post: Mother M on Common Prayer

The “Common” in Common Prayer

What exactly is “common prayer”? In the Anglican/Episcopal
tradition we use this term frequently: our main liturgical book is titled The
Book of Common Prayer. Yet it is a phrase so commonly used that I think we
often gloss over it and fail to think about what it really means. I must
confess that I never really thought about it until I read my husband’s blog and
saw his questions and invitation to post for the carnival. Common prayer is a
compilation of prayers and liturgies that we as a denomination hold to be
representative of our faith. These prayers and liturgies are grounded in
scripture, reason (to some extent), tradition and history. They are used
throughout the world or country as the norm—the core. There have been a number
of BCP’s over the last 458 years. There have been many revisions during this
time, but the core of the BCP has
remained mostly the same. The 1928 BCP for example has mostly been retained in
the current 1979 BCP. Many of the forms have been revised, condensed or used in
different ways in the newer version, but the core of our faith can still be
found. While I am pretty content with the 79 BCP, I know that the day is fast
approaching when the Church will have to reevaluate and revise the current
prayer book. I believe a new book will be inevitable when the current BCP is no
longer able to adequately address the larger Church in terms of social
concerns, liturgical language (language and images), pastoral needs, and
mission. The world we live in today, while changing quickly, is still not that
different from 1979 that we would need a new prayer book yet. That is where
supplemental and trial liturgies fit in (that is a whole other essay for
another time). So, I don’t see “common prayer” changing all that much in the 21st
century. In order for this to happen though here are some tips I would offer to
those revising the BCP:

  • remain
    faithful to the Scriptures and the liturgy of the early church
  • unify
    the Church
  • edify
    the people

As Marion Hatchett in his Commentary on the American
Prayer Book reminds us, these three points have been kept in mind during
previous prayer book revisions and should be for future ones as well. I also
would hope that the revisers would continue to draw from:

  • Scripture
  • Church
    fathers
  • Historic
    liturgies

Of course these things would be in combination with the
present world/culture/church conditions as well as missionary needs, pastoral
needs, and social needs/concerns. One of the points of the BCP as I see it is
to draw those in the Anglican communion closer to each other rather than
tearing us apart. The BCP addresses the needs and concerns through prayer and
liturgy of the whole body, not just one member.

There are a couple of other ways to think of “common” as
well: one way to think of common prayer that dates back to the medieval church
is as the regular or cyclic services of the Church (the Daily Office, the
Litany, and Eucharist) in contrast to the occasional sacraments/services and
other rites that ritually mark particular points in the Christian life. Alternatively,
common prayer could also mean those sacraments/rites/services that are for all
people and not just clergy and monastics. Participation in the liturgy as
opposed to the liturgy being done on one’s behalf (mass intentions). This is
one of the obvious shifts of Cranmer’s first BCP in 1549 compared with the
medieval mass. Any thoughts or ideas on this are most welcome!

One last thought on “common” prayer before shifting to local
organic liturgies. Common prayer in my dream world would include a common ordo
too. Currently the Anglican bodies do not have this and I often wonder what it
is that is holding us altogether if we actually don’t have a book of common
prayer or a common ordo. Ordo refers to the pattern of essential
elements in worship and their ritual ordering. Anyway, I see this uncommon ordo
to be a problem if we say we are in communion with each other. We ought to—at
the very least—have this in common. It makes me think: what in the world is the
Anglican communion anyway? There are two reasons that I can see why we need a
common ordo. First, it gives us an identity as a faith community. Second,
it strengthens our relations with other Anglican groups and, in theory, helps
us to support each other. For lack of time I have not thought anymore on this
subject, but I do strongly believe it to be quite important to the future of
both the Anglican communion and “Common” Prayer in the 21st century.

Local Organic Liturgies

Local organic liturgies certainly have their place in
worship, but I do not think they should be included in a book of common prayer
such as the BCP. There is a definite need for services to reach out to specific
ethnic groups. More should definitely be included of their culture, practices,
and traditions and they should be able to use these types of services with
ease. However, they should still use, know, and participate in the BCP’s
prayers and liturgies on a fairly regular basis since that is what is common
and the core of our faith. Newer local customs and liturgies are just that—local,
so it does not really fit in with my idea of common prayer.

New prayers and
liturgies are okay and actually should be encouraged as we need liturgical
imagination for our current age. The phrase “liturgical imagination” often gets
a bad rap when referring to certain forms of non-traditional ways of worship—like
decorating the altar with fabric and other crap as they did at one of the three
seminaries I have attended… This is not what I mean when I use the phrase. All
I am saying is that we need language and images that speak to our time, culture,
and social situation. These do not have to be new or non-traditional. We just
have to constantly reevaluate our worship and liturgies and make sure they are
meeting the needs and concerns of our current society. Those who know me know
how much I love old things and tradition, particularly in all things
liturgical. I love[most of ]Ritual
Notes—need I say more? Anyway, sometimes the old just doesn’t work. (Though
often it does.) As Gordon Lathrop reminds us in his book Holy Things the
old is made to speak the new. It is all
about juxtaposition (also another essay for another time).

Mother M

Kalendar Note: Rogationtide

Today, tomorrow and the day after are the Rogation days. If you missed it, here’s a nice post on them from the Episcopal Cafe (not by me)… The Litany is especially appropriate on these days after MP or at some other point. They also have their own collects. I didn’t see them specifically noted as I glanced at my prayerbook during the morning commute–perhaps they’re pointed out in the Priest’s Handbook rather than the BCP?

Update: Here they are…hiding right after the other collects under number 19. Thanks, Scott!

In any case, there were historically two main purposes for the day, the blessing of the crops and the final cram for the Day of Judgment (anticipated Thursday). Because of the importance of final cram day, more Old English sermons survive for these days than any other liturgical occasion–including much of the sermonic material in the Vercelli Book. Common topics were the Four Last Things (death, hell, judgment, and heaven), the Creeds, and the Lord’s Prayer. So, in that spirit, I offer this as a great opportunity to bone up on the basics again…

On Common Prayer: A Modest Proposal

I want to ponder both the possibilities and limitations of common prayer as we head deeper into this new century. There’s no doubt that things are changing. For decades Christian denominations have positioned themselves in relationship to one another primarily through their responses to modernism. Thus, there was a great shift in the in the late 19th and early 20th centuries with the rise of fundamentalism as an approach to the social changes caused by advances in science and technology. There was another in the 1970’s as Rome clarified the stance of Vatican I and placed new accents upon the traditional faith in doctrine and liturgy which caused ripples throughout the Protestant Mainlines.

These ripples of Vatican II were both a continuing response but also the harbingers of new change. As we—forty years later—are still making sense of the reforms and their implementations, the world order is changing and the ripples are encountering new shoals. We are on the cusp of another major shake-up, no longer a response to modernism but postmodernism. In a sense the current problems are related to the rapprochement of the preceding decades. We have started talking to one another, to fields of science, and the humanities—and have found new questions and problems. New generations arise: the digital youth. Old ways are passing, new ones are struggling to be born.

As denominations shift and change in this new world, so our ways of relating to one another must change. The old ways are no longer tenable. Old patterns of ecumenism are based on bilateral conversations between small groups in rooms searching for common ground. Thus, I, a smoked-up-solemn-high-mass right-on-the-edge-of-transubstantiation Anglican, find myself in eucharistic fellowship with Moravians and the UCC thanks to shared agreements mediated by the ELCA. Don’t get me wrong—I have nothing against Moravians or the UCC, but some pretty serious differences exist in our sacramental theologies. If Christian witness is rooted in truth and
integrity—do these arrangements tell the truth about who and what these Christian communities are and what they believe?

I’d like to reframe what we’re about in terms of ecumenism. It’s one thing if we’re talking to one another—that is, if the point is the talk and the concepts therein. It’s another entirely if we’re talking about what we do—the practices that we engage in together. If the point of our unity is what we do, then why is ecumenical discussion so focused on thoughts and not actions? In short, my proposal for a new ecumenical direction in the new emerging order is shared action—common prayer: an Ecumenical Use.

The centerpiece of future ecumenical relationships between the Episcopal Church and other ecclesial bodies would rest not in conversations but in a liturgy, the Ecumenical Use. Much of it would be fairly rudimentary—a basic ordo that would lay out a flow of
service from Word to table—but it would also include a stripped-down eucharistic canon, something between the current eucharistic prayers A and D, that would seek to honor both Eastern and Western roots while retaining its Anglican heritage (like a double epiclesis, for example…). The fundamental rule would be that anything may be added to it—but nothing could be removed. The use of this liturgy in local communities would the sign and experience of ecumenical relationships, not conversations on a national level all too far removed from the theological and liturgical life of the people in the pews.

Ecumenical agreements could exist on a purely local level. Episcopal churches—both snake-belly low and the highest up the candle, Continuing Anglican bodies, Lutheran churches, Independent Catholic churches, could all use the liturgy and be united in it. Should a UCC church feel it to be within their common life—hey, why not? The blend between the stable agreed-upon Ecumenical Use and each community’s local use would maintain the flexibility that would allow each to retain its authentic character while holding what is most important in common. Should a community not feel they could participate in the Ecumenical Use with another, they simply would not have to use it. The responsibility and authority for ecumenical relationships would rest at the local level—where the people are and where they meet, gather, and pray.

Yes, it’s a far-fetched idea. Yes, it needs more development. But it’s a possibility—it’s a new direction. The change is coming. Our Great Unpleasantness reveals that we are already in the midst of it. With the challenges and difficulties come new opportunities—we just need to start figuring out what they are.

It’s Quiet…

There’s been a certain atmosphere over sectors of the Anglican blogosphere. A quietness, a relectance to engage–and least that’s what I’ve been feeling myself…

Perhaps it’s the wearing effects of the Great Unpleasantness, maybe it’s life in general, particularly now at the end of the term, a draining time for those in academia.

It seems to me that blogs and blog-communities go through cycles; right now we’re in a trough…

Interim Version of Anglican Lauds and Vespers

Whenever discussions of the Daily Office come up, someone, at some point, will make some comment about how a discipline like this no longer fits into the lives of modern professional people. That is, if you’re not a priest, student, or church-worker, how do you find time to do the Office in the midst of everything else you’ve got going on??

One answer which sounds flippant but really isn’t is–if that’s important to you, you’ll figure out a way to make it happen. This is easier said than done, of course. For several years I had it easy–I had a commute on public transit. So, I got into the habit of reading the Offices on my way to and from work. I had my trusty two-volume Daily Office Books which are small enough to easily stow the volume for the appropriate year in my work bag and it was no problem.

No longer.

I’m now in a city with notoriously unreliable transit that does not go from where I am to where I need to be. Furthermore, I’m putting in way more hours than I’d like–I’m not getting enough sleep as it is now, so getting up earlier is not an option…

My problem is this: I don’t have time to do the Office in a prayerfully, non-rushed manner with a book in front of me. I do, however, have a lengthy vehicular commute. The solution is a version of the Offices that I can do in the car without needing a book.

Here’s the framework that I’ve come up with: An Anglican Lauds and Vespers. As the two main day offices, Lauds and Vespers classically shared the same structure; only the elements were different and these didn’t have an awful lot of variation. I adapted the shared ordines of these two Offices for one that I could do from memory in my car. The one advantage to my current situation is that I’m not in a transit car with a bunch of other people–so I can chant it if I like…which I like…

Does this solve the initial question posed above? Is this a solution to enable the ancient patterns of devotion to be kept in the modern world? I’m not sure… It works for me–and it may work for you–but I don’t see it as a solution for the majority of church-goers. In any case, explore it, play with it, try it, and let me know if and how it works for you…

I call it “interim” in the title for a reason, though. This ordo refers to seasonal items–and they’re not included in the file. I started on adding them, but didn’t have time to get it together because I have to focus completely on the dissertation now, not on liturgical fun… They’ll show up eventually. In the meantime you can find the bits you need–the little chapter and hymn–here.(Click the “Recite the Office” button, then click on the service for which you need the material and scroll down.)

Cathedrals and Clergy Formation Revisited

AKMA writes on a visit and presentation by Bishop Neil Alexander on the purpose and point of worship in the seminary context. Apparently he listed four:

  1. A monastic model where the seminarians are formed into a particular tradition
  2. A pedagogical model where they learn how to do a liturgy or liturgies
  3. A parish model that replicates where the students came from and where they will go
  4. Creative worship where they freely explore liturgical possibilities without the expectation that it will be used in a parish

My seminary experiences were heavy on the last–and I hated it… The model I’ve experienced that worked the best is the first–the monastic model–as lived out at General. Once I encountered it, I knew that’s what I had been missing at my first two seminaries…

Reading this reminded me of my earlier thoughts on clergy formation wherein I was thinking out loud along with some others about what new models for clergy education could look like. Rather than centering the formative educational experience at an academic institution, I suggested basing it in an ecclesial institution: at cathedrals rather than seminaries. Academic environments are great for training academics. But what if we want to train priests…?

Organic Development

There’s been some discussion on my Periodization of the Liturgy piece over at Young Fogey’s place. One of the key issues is the discussion about whether the Roman Novus Ordo (the post-Vatican II mass) can be considered an “organic development” from the Tridentine Mass.

Not being a Roman, of course, I don’t have a dog in that hunt nor a lived experience of both (I’ve only ever attended one TLM, though many NOs). Where the question comes home to roost for me is with the American ’79 BCP…. Is it an organic development from the ’28?

And to push the envelope further–What’s the relation of the American ’28 to the English 1662 through the 1559 to the 1552 to the 1549?

Needless to say Laud’s would have to fit in there as well…

All that is to say, with the tangled webs of Anglican liturgies, what does it mean to talk about continuity and organic development?

Periodization of Liturgy

NLM has a post up that includes bits of an interview with Msgr. Schmitz, vicar-general of the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest–a traditionalist group in the Roman church committed to the use of the Tridentine Mass.

Here’s a snippet that struck me as interesting:

Some of the faithful, however, are alarmed by the popular revival of the Old Mass. “They argue that what the “neo-trads” refer to as “the Mass of always” is in fact the product of the Middle Ages, whereas the liturgies that emerged following the Second Vatican Council are connected with the older, patristic heritage of the third or fourth centuries.

“Very well,” Mgr Schmitz returns with a hint of frustration. “This distinction between historical periods is not a Catholic thing to do. I believe that the Holy Ghost is present in every age and in every period of the Church.

“To divide the history of salvation into little drawers that you yourself label with certain qualities is a very narrow view of the history of the Church. As a matter of fact, we are not medievalists, we are not concentrated on the third century or the 17th.” Very well, but what then can we make of the last 40 years of Catholic worship? Does the Novus Ordo not also belong to this organically evolving Church? “We don’t exclude anything,” Mgr Schmitz answers gently. “We simply want to open the window, so that the wind of tradition, the good Roman Catholic tradition, can blow through into what has often become a rather stale atmosphere.”

I agree with many things in the interview but my views on the liturgy and its history part ways from Msgr. Schmitz on the issue of distinguishing between historical periods. Rather, I’d contend that it is very important for our continued effective proclamation of the Gospel that we pay close attention to historical periods.

“Organic development” is mentioned here–whether that phrase began with Msgr. Schmitz or the interviewer I can’t tell (and haven’t had a chance to read the original article). Development necessarily means change over time. Furthermore, as I understand how the Holy Spirit works in the Church I believe that the Holy Spirit directs certain changes at certain times to respond to the needs that arise among God’s people at those times. IF this theological understanding is correct, then several things necessarily follow from it.

  1. Liturgy should not be static. A completely static liturgy is a liturgy that is not listening to the truths that the Spirit teaches. Don’t misread me, though–I’m no fan of liturgical change for the sake of change. Continuity is critically important because liturgy is a big part of the practical process of formation that inculturates us into being the people of God. Start messing around with that too much and you mess with our identity. Rather, change should happen slowly, deliberately, organically, with good order, and with much testing of the spirits.
  2. Historical ages have certain corporate characters based on the events, people, etc. that molded them. As such, some are more alike than others. If the Spirit has taught the church through the liturgy in the past, then it behooves us to examine the epochs and consider what parts of our age are congruent with others. What are the spiritual vitalities and malaises of our age? How do they mirror those of other ages? How did the liturgies of those times and places speak the Gospel to curb the vices and encourage the virtues of the Church? Note that I’m not saying that we capitulate to the Spirit of this Age (or any age…) Rather, we observe how the Holy Spirit has interacted with the various spirits of the ages, sometimes moving in parallel, sometimes issuing sharp rebukes (and often doing both at the same time as well as a myriad other things…).
  3. One of the ways that the Spirit works is through the work that we do, carefully combing through the tradition to observe how the Spirit has worked in the past, then considering how these ways aid us in our current proclamation of the Gospel. The Spirit works in us as well as through impersonal forces. Thus, as people of liturgy–people who craft liturgies, yes, but more so as people who use and are formed by liturgy–we are called to the work of cooperation which can only happen with the triple spirits of openness to the Spirit, humility about our projects, and a passionate desire for the mutual up-building of the community.

So, as I see it, change is inevitable. But it should be deliberate, steeped in the tradition and open to who God is calling us to be–not merely our own frenzied changes or our capitulation to whatever fancies happen to be current.

We have to take historical periods seriously–because what is at stake is nothing less than the principle of Incarnation. An ahistorical understanding of the Church and its liturgies smacks of Docetism. The Spirit does not choose to encounter us in a vacuum but in the messy realities of our lives, of our ages, of our history and it is precisely there, then, that we must find the Spirit’s footprints to direct our ways.