Author Archives: Derek A. Olsen

Is This Constructive Diversity?: Responding to Cody Unterseher

Introduction

There’s a new group blog up which looks quite promising. Whether of their own volition or in response to the New Liturgical Movement (or some combination of the two), a group of moderate mainline Catholic liturgists have begun Pray Tell. It’s not exclusively a Roman Catholic endeavor, though—a piece by an Episcopalian went up today.

Fr. Cody Unterseher presents a piece entitled Living with Diversity, Living in Charity. To my eye, it’s a piece designed to gently persuade Roman Catholic readers that liturgical diversity is possible within a given parish without the acrimony and rancor that such change can often inspire; different liturgical “factions” really can live together in peace. As an introduction to Roman readers, it is a calming voice that soothes those who fear social upheaval in liturgical spaces.

I enjoyed his piece and, following the various links, I suspect I’d quite enjoy worship at his parish (hark, a Dearmerite!). However, as an insider, I have some concerns with the picture that he presents.

I have four main concerns which I’ll introduce here, then lay out in detail below. My first point is that he creates an overly irenic picture of liturgical diversity. While he draws a quick sketch of the diversity within American Anglicanism, this diversity is less present in the description of his parish. My second point is that the presentation of the three worship options that he outlines are, in my experience, not considered equal options by the leadership of the parishes with which I’m familiar. My third point is that even this picture of diversity is, in fact, contained within a relatively narrow range for representing the Anglican heritage within the Episcopal Church. My fourth point returns more closely to the topic at hand and ponders how closely the Episcopal and Roman contexts map onto one another.

On Liturgical Diversity

The author begins with a quick nod to the standard threefold division of liturgical styles within the Anglican fold:

Episcopal parishes describe themselves variously as “high,” “low,” and “broad,” terms that reflect both preferences in liturgical style, and degrees of theological commitment to principles articulated during the reforms of the sixteenth century. And in spite of all the headline-grabbing difficulties in the Episcopal Church and in the Anglican Communion, there remains a lot of room for positive, healthy diversity in expression, especially on the level of parish life.

He also explains the presence of Rites I and II in our parishes for the benefit of his Roman readers:

When the 1979 Book of Common Prayer appeared, it included two series of services: “Rite I” in traditional (though faux) Tudor-Stuart English, and“Rite II” in contemporary English. Some parishes adopted one, some the other, and some made use of both. Likewise, some parishes adopted a versus populum style of liturgy, with the celebrant facing the congregation over the altar, while some retained ad orientem or eastward-facing worship.

This is a non-controversial assessment of what you’ll find within any given Episcopal parish. What I will raise, here, however, is a point which the author makes but fails to develop. He states here, accurately, that “Some parishes adopted one, some the other, and some made use of both.”  In the first quote above, he correctly notes that “Episcopal parishes describe themselves variously as ‘high,’ ‘low,’ and ‘broad,’…” and that’s the beginning of my concern.

Episcopalians tend to group themselves by parishes. There is tremendous diversity between parishes, but we typically do not find the span originally described—high, low, and broad— and the diversity represented by these factions within parishes as exhibited in their public liturgies. I’ll unpack this further in a moment.

As a demonstration of the irenicism prevalent at his parish, Fr. Unterseher describes the following procedure:

The parish I serve, in a suburb of New York City, makes use of a mix of these styles every Sunday: the early Eucharist is eastward-facing and uses Rite I texts. The principal celebration is also eastward-facing, but uses the modern language of Rite II. And at the evening Eucharist, celebrated in contemporary English, the the congregation gathers closely around all four sides of the freestanding altar. Each of these styles, each of these approaches has historical precedent, and can be justified by sound theology. Moreover, each approach has been adopted for significant and carefully considered pastoral reasons. Taken together, our three regularly scheduled Sunday liturgies represent a large cross-section of American Episcopal worship.

Both the description here and pictures of the parish (look—riddel posts!) make clear that this is a High Church parish. The dead give-away even without the pictures is an eastward-facing principle service. Many Broad and most Low Church Episcopalians would not stand for this—and east-facing Eucharists at Broad Church parishes are rarer than hen’s teeth.

From his description it looks like he has indeed incorporated services of two styles at his parish: High and Broad. The first two are High while the evening service seems to be Broad (gather ’round the altar being a now-classic piece Broad/Progressive ceremonial) and possibly unvested clergy.

Yes, there is a cross-section represented here, but it’s also unusual. In my experience most parishes will strongly identify with one of the three camps, and all of the liturgies will reflect that view. The choices at my current parish, for example are Broad, Broad, and Broad. (This is most evident on the very rare occasions when they think that they’re being “High”—which ends up being a Broad caricature of High.)

One blend which I have seen recently is Broad parishes introducing Low services with worship bands and such. The parish near our house does this as does the congregation where M is at the moment. Tellingly, these services tend to be 1) in two different spaces (it’d be really hard to do “authentic” Low in a sanctuary with riddel posts!) and 2) the congregations tend to be distinct with little cross-over. I’d suggest that Broad can go either way, but that you won’t—and probably shouldn’t—find a Low parish incorporating a High service and vice-versa. And this reality seems to undermine the irenicism Fr. Unterseher describes.

I do congratulate  Fr. Unterseher on achieving the diversity he has at his parish but this does not represent the norm in our church.

Liturgical Inequalities

Fr. Unterseher does acknowledge that his parish may be unusual (and I think it is) and further states that his parish understands all three of their services as equally valid expressions of worship:

Noticeably absent, however, is the divisive acrimony that often attends communities with multiple liturgical styles. Everybody knows that they are part of one parish, one church, one body. This is not the case in every Episcopal parish, and I won’t pretend that either the church as a whole or the parish doesn’t have fissures around some significant issues. But regarding the parish, I suspect that when it comes to worship, we’ve simply refused to buy into the posturing that so often seems to go along with issues of liturgical difference, and becomes so evident in conversations about liturgical reform. We refuse to suggest that one style is more “authentic” or more pleasing to God than another.

This statement warms my heart. If only this were so everywhere… The situation I’m familiar with where three services is the norm the inequalities are evident and sometimes even stated.

The early Rite I Mass is explicitly for the “old folks” and the assumption and hope is that this demographic and the service will die out together. I find the timing of the service to be the literally marginalizing issue here. It’s very difficult for me as a father to get myself and my girls ready and out the door for a 7:30 AM service. When I wake them up for it, I pay for it with cranky tired behavior later in the day. And yet—this is the service I’d rather attend at my current parish. If I do, then we have to go home and come back two hours later for Christian Ed. Why do few families show up at this service? In my context, at least, it’s because the logistics are torturous.

Interestingly enough when we went to the cathedral in Atlanta, there was a 9 AM Rite I service which led right into the Sunday School hour. The chapel where it was held was always full to bursting and I’d guess it was equally split been the expected “old folks” and families with small children. Despite the big Rite II choral Eucharist going on right across the hallway.

The evening service tends to be the one identified as perfect for children and families and (unlike Fr. Unterseher’s parish) has the “contemporary” music (of the ’80’s and 90’s). Despite this conception the demographic that seems to dig it the most is the Baby Boomers.

What I’m suggesting is that while some liturgical diversity may exist between early, middle, and evening services, not only do the groups tend to be distinct, but the early service with its Rite I language tends to be tolerated as a short-term inconvenience (although I note they’ve held on in most places for lo these thirty years giving the lie to the theory that only old folk like them).

The Breadth of Diversity: The Case of Morning Prayer

The third point I’d like to raise is breadth of diversity represented. It’s a little off-topic from the article itself, but I couldn’t help but notice it… All three of the services at the example parish are Eucharists. As a result, there’s a certain limitation of the true diversity of Anglican liturgy at that. In fact, it demonstrates the way that liturgical diversity has been flattened across the board since the release of the ’79 BCP.

I’m in hearty agreement with and very supportive of the norm laid down by the ’79 book: Holy Eucharist should be the principal act of worship in Episcopal parishes on Sundays and Holy Days. However, there’s no law that says that a parish can’t do both Morning Prayer and the Eucharist. From looking around the Episcopal Church you’d be excused from thinking that such a law is written in stone. One of the key treasures of the Anglican Patrimony has been effectively cut from the public worship experience of Episcopalians over the last thirty years.

A genuine and helpful move towards liturgical diversity would be the inclusion of a Morning Prayer service before the principal Eucharist on Sundays. But that’s not on the radar for 99% of the church.

The Roman and Episcopal Contexts

I don’t know that the Episcopal situation described here maps onto the situation that faces liturgical diversity in the Roman Church. The elephant in the middle of the room is the culture war.

Liturgy is all too often one wing in a broader battle, and outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible disposition. From my outsider’s view, the battle-lines seem to be much more firmly fixed within the Roman context than the Episcopal. That is, some of the most progressive churches I have attended have been High Church—St Luke in the Fields, NYC springs instantly to mind; some of the most conservative churches I have attended have been High Church—Mt. Calvary, Baltimore likewise appears. In the Episcopal Church, liturgical preference does not map directly onto the social and theological beliefs that tend to generate the true acrimony that liturgical wars appear to produce.

Of the admittedly small number of traditional liturgy Roman churches that I’ve visited, and from the discussions I frequent on the internet, traditional liturgy tends to travel with social and theological conservatism. I have not met a progressive Roman Catholic who is for traditional liturgy, the use of Latin, ad orientem celebration, and the usus antiquor.  These are seen as signs of the counter-revolutionaries who seek to depose Vatican II. I can, however, rattle of a list of progressive Episcopalians who favor all of these (with the recognition that our true usus antiquor is Rite I/the 1662 BCP rather than the Traditional Latin Mass…).

It is this cultural divide that makes me most wary of the picture that Fr. Unterseher paints. I need more convincing that the liturgical lines in the Roman Church are more fluid than they appear.

Summing Up

In summary, I think that Fr. Unterseher’s piece presents an idealized view of worship within the Episcopal Church. Charity in liturgical diversity is possible, but is unusual. First, finding actual diversity between parish services is rare. Second, parishes tend to self-select and identify with one style or another. As a result the diversity and charity tends not to have to happen. Third, I’m not clear that our situation maps onto the situation for which Fr. Unterseher is writing. Deeper cultural and social issues afflict liturgical change in the Roman Church in ways that they do not in ours.

There’s one more point that I must make though, and it involves my hopes for further posts at Pray Tell. Most clergy don’t have the liturgical knowledge or interest to make the diversity work—and that’s what Fr. Unterseher didn’t talk about (yet) and where I hope he goes in the future.

From just a quick look at his parish’s website, I notice that the worship page has a succinct explanation of what the Sarum Use is and an explanation of eastward celebration. There’s catechesis going on here! There’s teaching and explanation that 1) these differences in worship actually do exist and 2) there are real reasons why they are different—they are expressing something theologically.  That’s got to happen to make liturgical change, liturgical awareness and liturgical diversity work. I look forward to seeing more on this in the future!

An Antiphon for bls

So bls was asking for information on the antiphon “Hodie Christus Natus Est” used with the Magnificat on the Second Vespers of Christmas in the Roman liturgy as it appears in the Liber.

She was wondering about its antiquity. This piqued my interest, of course, so I thought I’d hop over to my favorite collection and check it out… Consulting the Winter volume of the Hartker Antiphonary (Cod. Sang. 390) I went to the folio for the Gospel Antiphon at Vespers and found the following:

As you’ll recall, scribes weren’t always picky about their line breaks… The “In Ev” in the upper right lets us know that the next line will be a piece used with the Gospel (Canticle); the red A in the left margin tells us that this line is an antiphon. Clearly this is not the antiphon we’re looking for, though.

Paging back, however, I ran across this:

Here we have the end of Lauds. The first line in this clip is the Gospel Canticle on the Benedictus which is the same as what’s in the Liber. That’s the end of Lauds proper—then we find our missing antiphon!

What we get are two antiphons here before we arrived at the antiphons used for the Little Hours during the day, the start of which is signaled by the “Ad Cursus” (For the Round of the Day) rubric at the bottom of the clip. These two antiphons are marked “Ad Crucem” which lead me to believe that it’s being used as part of the Common Commemoration to the Holy Cross. Typically these involve the use of an antiphon, a versicle and response and a concluding collect. This book tends to have them following Lauds and occasionally after Vespers. I’m not clear why there are two here, however…

Interestingly the Portiforium of St Wulstan from around the same time shares the Lauds antiphon but has a different Vespers antiphon (the “Lux orta” that the San Gall appoints for Prime, actually). The “Hodie Christus natus est” doesn’t appear in that book at all. Nor does it have antiphons for commemorations.

All of the English monastic breviaries studied at the Cursus Project use Hodie Christus natus est for the 2nd Vespers of Christmas with one fascinating exception. The Worcester Antiphoner uses the same 2nd Vespers Antiphon that we saw in the San Gall manuscript and the Hodie Christus natus est doesn’t appear until St Johns day where it is used as a Commemoration of the Nativity (Again, antiphon, versicle & response, then a collect—this time the one from Christmas).

The Sarum Breviary, following in the footsteps of the others uses the now standard Hodie Christus natus est.

So, that at least fills in a few points in regard to the history of this particular antiphon and its circulation in Northern Europe and England.

New GOE Exam Question Proposal

As Marshall reminds us, the General Ordination Exams are now underway. I enjoyed Marshall’s observations about Exams then and now and was struck by his rumination on what would signify preparation for the clerical task today. I was struck, too, by his observation that the more recent questions are more academic than in his day.

As I was reading it, a question popped into my head that seems both useful, practical and a good measure of what candidates both should know and should be able to do. Here it is:

You can use your Bible and your Prayer Book; otherwise, no other outside resources. You have a full 8 hour day. Assume that tomorrow is The 3rd Sunday after Epiphany in Year A. Now–write a sermon for tomorrow that doesn’t suck.

Needless to say, I don’t expect to see this one on next year’s exam—but I can always dream…

Benedict of Aniane: On Poverty

The next big post on Benedict of Aniane will look at his reforming work as described by Ardo and as cemented in the Councils of Aachen. These acts lay the foundation for the continuation and growth of the great monastic houses which, with their huge tracts of land, massive rents, and temporal sway represent a very different reality of monastic possession that what was within the imaginative scope of Benedict of Nursia. However, to lay this temporal wealth to the charge of Benedict of Aniane does not seem quite accurate.

A celebratory post at NLM rejoicing in the absence of earthen vessels from the cover of a major Roman Catholic publication reminded me of a passage from Ardo’s life. Concerning Benedict of Aniane’s establishment of the monastery at Aniane, Ardo writes:

In the meanwhile the band of students gradually began to increase. The fame of holy religious observance began by degrees to flit by the mouths of those dwelling nearby, spreading itself to places a long distance away. Because the valley in which he had first settled was very narrow, he undertook little by little to erect by effort a new monastery beyond its confines. Sometimes he labored with the brothers as they worked; sometimes he had his hands full with cooking food for them to eat, while at the same time he was also occupied even in the kitchen with writing a book. And often, because of the scarcity of oxen, he carried wood on his own shoulders along with his students.

There was on the place where they were endeavoring to establish the monastery a building which they expanded and dedicated in honor of holy Mary the bearer of God. With people flocking thither from everywhere, begging earnestly to submit themselves to his superintendency, the fabric of the monastery was quickly completed. The place was endowed and increased with properties as various persons offered what they had. Benedict had given orders to make the houses, not with ornate walls, red roof tiles, or painted panelings, but with thatch and cheap timber. Although the number of brothers was rapidly expanding, he still strove for cheap and modest materials.

If anyone wanted to bestow some of his possessions on the monastery, Benedict accepted it. But if someone pressed to attach serving men and women to it, he refused. Nor did he permit anyone to be delivered to the monastery by charter, but ordered them to be set free. [So, no lay-brothers and no slaves—the monks would have to do their own work.] He preferred himself that the vessels for Christ’s body not be of silver. To him first choice was wooden vessels, secondly glass, and finally tin. He refused to have a silken chasuble. If some person gave him one, he immediately gave it away to others. (Ardo’s Life, ch. 5, 72)

To the description of this humble foundation, Ardo gives us an interesting contrast later on. This is Benedict’s first house built by his own hands and means; it’s quite appropriate for an ascetical reformer. Later, Ardo tells us about a second house and church that Benedict builds at the command and with the resources of Charlemagne and the royal court. It’s rather different and deserves its own post due to some interesting architectural elements described therein.

An Interesting Carolingian Reading List

Many of the readers here will know the name of Notker Balbus (the Stammer). He is the monk of St Gall who is famous for his chant sequences. Upon reading through de Lubac, I’ve learned that he’s also the author of an interesting little treatise called On the Interpreters of the Holy Scriptures. The scan from the PL may be found here. Fascinating stuff—it goes a quick glimpse into how these folks went about the study of Scripture, who they turned to first and how they categorized who they read. Here’s a quick paraphrase of his section on the Gospels:

…For Matthew, Jerome[‘s Commentary] should be sufficient for you. As Mark is the abbreviator of Matthew, so Bede is the abbreviator of Jerome [referring to Bede’s commentary on Mark]. So the unique Luke by the broadminded Bede so much so that everything one discovers in the Gospel is touched upon in his one volume. The cloud-soaring Augustine (among* others) pursues the heaven-seeking John [Tractates on John]. After these is the book of Augustine On the Sermon of the Lord on the Mount according to Matthew. Also his Questions on the whole Gospel. Furthermore also the Collection of Eugippus. Furthermore the homilies of John Chrysostom, Origen, Augustine, Gregory, Maximus [of Turin], Leo, Bede, and the responses of Jerome to the questions of Algasia and Denobia.

* I wonder if this should be “above” or “without equal”…

(The high-flying rhetoric around John is a trope of Augustine’s explanation of John’s symbol of the eagle at the start of Augustine’s De Consensu which, interestingly, doesn’t get a mention…)

Clearly, I’m interested in the list of recommended homilies. Does the line-up sound familiar to anyone? It’s practically the table of contents of Paul the Deacon. Also interesting is the fact that Paul doesn’t get a mention—nor does Smaragdus’s collection on the Gospels and Epistles.  Bede is the only author who could enough roughly be considered a contemporary (and even that’s a stretch).

Scripture Trouble at the Breviary

Over Christmas we’ve been having some Scripture trouble at the breviary… The problems stem from one of the initial decisions I made about the project. Rather than selecting out all of the readings individually, I decided to install entire Bibles, then to install a parsing mechanism that would determine which passages to select. This gives the breviary a tremendous amount of flexibility, because it opens up the option of putting in new translations and new lectionaries without have to go and cut and paste a whole new edition.

Unfortunately, it also means working out how to deal with various complications in a lectionary with likes to leave out verses in the middle of a selection.

Too, the interactions between the kalendar codes, the lectionary codes, and the Bible tables is one of the reasons why I say the site is still in beta.

Today’s problem has been solved and I’m working on the lingering issues…

Benedict of Aniane: A Convert to the Rule

This is the first of possibly several posts on Benedict of Aniane, reformer and teacher (750-821).

Benedict of Aniane is one of those figures in history of whom the general population is blissfully unaware, but who made great and significant changes in the way things were done. It’s not an exaggeration to say that he defined the landscape of Western Monasticism as it moved through the Early Medieval period and into the High Middle Ages.

St Benedict of Nursia gave us the Rule, but it was Benedict of Aniane who gave us Benedictine monasticism as a theological and organizational entity. In the early medieval West there were a host of monastic rules floating around, some written by famous doctors of the church—like those of Isidore and Caesarius of Arles—as well as others by lesser known or now anonymous authors. The most common was the so-called regula mixta which was a combination of the Rule of Benedict and the Irish Rule of Columbanus. English monks like Bede and Boniface were the first to push for an exclusive Benedictine observance but it remained a hard row to hoe. Without Benedict of Aniane, Benedict’s Rule would likely today occupy a place similar to where John Cassian, known by the interested but utilized piece-meal rather than whole-cloth.

Benedict of Aniane started out as one attracted by Benedict’s Rule but with the ascetic chip on his shoulder. Age brought wisdom. In chapter 2, Ardo tells us of his mortifications:

His face through gaunt with fasting; his flesh was exhausted by privation; his shriveled skin hung from his bones like the dewlaps of cows. Not so much taming a young but ungovernable animal, as mortifying the body, although he was compelled by the abbot to exercise rigor against himself more sparingly, he gave assent reluctantly. Declaring that the Rule of blessed Benedict was for beginners and weak persons, he strove to climb up to the precepts of blessed Basil and the rule of blessed Pachomius. However much the Benedictine Rule might regulate possible things for paltry people, our Benedict perennially explored more impossible things. Dedicating himself wholly to penance and lamentation, he could not be imitated by anyone or only by a few. But divine favor decreed that he was to become an example of salvation for many and would be enflamed with love for the Rule of Benedict, and like a new athlete just back from single combat enter the field to fight publicly. In the meanwhile he undertook to correct the manners of some, to scold the negligent, exhort beginners, admonish the upright to persevere, and upbraid the wicked to turn from their ways. (Ardo’s Vita 2.5, 68-9)

Students of the Rule will recognize the trope that Ardo is drawing on here. The first chapter of the rule, drawing on John Cassian Conf. 18.4ff, uses a martial motif to present the cenobites as soldiers who fight together in a battle-line, side by side. The anchorites are the champions who are strong enough to fight on their own, after hard training in the battle-line. Here, Ardo presents the asceticism of Benedict of Aniane as defacto anchorite training, who then returns to teach the rest of the monks rather than remaining elsewhere as a solitary. Ardo then continues to detail Benedict’s full conversion to the Rule:

After that it was enjoined on him to supervise the cellar. There he committed to memory the Rule of the aforesaid Father Benedict. He sought with all his might to comport himself according to its regulations and then without delay to be generous to those seeking lawful things, to deny those seeking in a bad way, and courteously to excuse those inquiring for impossible things. Because he did not freely provide them cups, he was not regarded with favor by many. The care of guests, children, and poor folk he exercised with assiduity. The abbot also esteemed him with supreme fondness, because he was beneficial in everything, circumspect in his own life, solicitous for the salvation of others, prompt in ministering, infrequent in speaking, ready to obey, good-natured in serving. Divine piety conferred upon him, among other virtues, the gift of understanding and a supply of spiritual eloquence. (Ardo’s Vita 2.6, 69)

I find this passage fascinating especially when read in parallel with the section just before it. the reversal on possible/lawful and impossible things is interesting. I note that in the first Benedict seems to do an awful lot of talking—memorization and internalization of the Rule leads to a lot more doing and a lot less talking. I don’t think Ardo wrote it this way on accident… And what a wise abbot! It seems like the move to cellarer (cf. RB 31) was quite a wise move. Benedict could no longer be peripheral to community life, holding himself above it, but was required to be fully integrated into themost mundane details of life together. I don’t think it’s an accident that it was this move that triggered his turn to the Rule.

That’s it for now—the next post will probably look at Benedict’s reforming work and the councils at Aachen.

Back to the Blog…

We’ve returned from Christmas and associated festivities at the in-laws. The up-coming days will probably see a number of postings on a number of new acquisitions for the library. In looking over the books I received from parents and sister-in-law I was amused at by the simultaneous breadth and coherence of the items: a taichi book and a taichi dvd, a collection of essays by Plutarch, the new Book of Common Prayer from Lancelot Andrewes Press, Ardo’s life of Benedict of Aniane, and Hymn Introits for the Liturgical Year.

I’ll say more about most of these later, but just wanted to comment on something that jumped out at me from Ardo’s life. In his discussion of Benedict of Aniane’s full output in Ch 38 he writes:

To demonstrate to contentious persons that nothing worthless or useless was set forth by blessed Benedict [of Nursia], but that his Rule was sustained by the rules of others, he compiled another book of statements culled from other rules. To it he gave the title, Harmony of the Rules [Concordia Regularum]. Statements in agreement with blessed Benedict’s book were added to show that the latter was obviously foremost. To it he joined another book from the homilies of holy teachers. These were presented for exhortation of monks and ordered it read all the time at the evening assemblies. (p. 101)

I knew of the Concordia Regularum, but this is the first I’d heard of a book of homilies along with it. I’m curious to see the Latin to see which book was being specified here for which occasion. Furthermore, there’s another interesting throw-away reference earlier. As Benedict of Aniane traveled around he: “spent days in Arles with many bishops, abbots, and monks, explaining the mysteries of the canons and expounding the homilies of the blessed Pope Gregory to the ignorant.”  What was going on here? Which homilies were these—the Moralia in Iob, Homilies on Ezekiel, or the Forty Gospel Homilies?

Random Daily Office Thoughts

Note: I’m not saying anything new here, I’m just putting some thoughts into conjunction with one another to stimulate my thinking on this topic…

The Daily Offices of the BCP are liturgical compositions in their own right. They contain their own internal logic and—500 years on—their own history.

These Offices are not the monastic Offices or the pre-conciliar ones.

And yet, the BCP Offices contain the elements and footprints of the earlier Offices. Those of us who have done the digging or have experience with the older Offices know what and where these are. Regular—even avid—users of the BCP who have not done these investigations usually do not know what and where they are because nothing in the book alerts them to it.

The Daily Offices of the BCP are liturgical compositions in their own right. They contain their own internal logic. Sometimes this logic is neutral towards the historical Office material and neither encourages or rejects its use. Other times, the logic of the current book is at odds with historical usage.

The most obvious example of what I’m talking about is the use and distribution of the canticles for Morning Prayer. The table on page 144 lays out the general principles according to the logic of the current Offices. I’d make these explicit as:

  1. Canticles follow Readings.
  2. Variety is to be preferred. Following the post-conciliar notion that a broader exposure to Scripture is better than a limited exposure, canticles have been added and selected to ensure a broader encounter with Scripture.
  3. The proper pattern is OT–>NT or NT–>Early Church. Thus the first Canticle is from one of the OT options (Canticles 8 through 14 in Rite II) and the second is from one of the NT options (Canticles 15 through 19). The main variation is when the Benedictus is used after the first reading and the Te Deum—a composition of the Early Church. The deviation from this rule is the Gloria in Excelsis (Canticle 20) which seems to be functioning like an NT canticle and has bona fide NT roots but is a composition of the Early Church…

Against these principles are the principles that come from the pre-conciliar Offices. The fundamental difficulty here is the very substantial amount of overlap: both forms (BCP and pre-concialr) have OT and NT canticles and there was use of quite a number of OT canticles. However, here are the principles that we know from the pre-Conciliar Offices:

  1. The Chapter (verse-length reading) at Lauds (and Vespers but we’re focusing on morning here…) is followed by a single NT Canticle.
  2. The daily OT canticles are found amongst the psalms in the Office of Lauds. So, these were used after the variable psalmody but before the eponymous “lauds” (Pss 148-150 treated as a single psalm). With the reforms of Pius X these doubled in number with the distinction between Lauds 1 and Lauds 2—more and less penitential forms.
  3. Monastic Uses substituted 3 OT Canticles as the psalmody in the 3rd Nocturns of Matins. Thus, the OT canticles continue to be associated structurally with psalms, not with readings. There’s a clear sense that OT and NT canticles function differently which is driven by theological principles.
  4. The NT canticle of Lauds, the Benedictus (Song of Zechariah), was invariable. No questions asked.
  5. The Te Deum was used at the end of Matins—sometimes. Generally on feasts and in festal seasons. On ferial days it was simply omitted—nothing took its place.

Upon looking at these differences it is abundantly clear that the two cannot be harmonized in a simple fashion. The pre-conciliar use of canticles does not fit with the current structure of the BCP Offices. Thus conscious adaptation is required. Furthermore, the complexities are such that there are several ways that adaptation could occur. If there are two readings, both of which require canticles and no psalms are being substituted with OT canticles than liturgical gyrations are in order—and we don’t all groove the same way.

At this juncture, there are two obvious paths:

  • Follow the apparent logic of the BCP Offices without reference to pre-conciliar models.
  • Make choices and adaptations to honor the legacy of the pre-concilar Offices within the structure of the BCP Offices.

I would suggest that these two options constitute the major differences between how current Episcopal communities practice the Daily Office (where and when it is still practiced in community…).

The first option here is entirely legitimate and honors the BCP as the duly authorized liturgy of the Episcopal Church. But I don’t like it. A willful amnesia toward our liturgical traditions and origins is hardly a move towards strengthening our proclamation of the Gospel in a changing world.

Choosing the second option gets very complicated. And not just liturgically.

The elephant in the room here is that there has never been a simple division between the BCP Offices and the pre-conciliar offices. Through the life of all of the Books of Common Prayer up to the present one there has always been a tension between current Episcopal/Anglican practice and current Roman Catholic practice. What I now have the luxury of calling “pre-conciliar Offices” were not simply historical and their use was not simply a preference for historical formulae; they impacted on and made statements about relationships between the two churches. How we prayed and how we chose to negotiate adaptations made statements about how we viewed our history and about how we related to the Church of Rome.

Within the life time of the American 1979 BCP, the pre-conciliar Offices have not had the same valence as before. They have far more of an historical signification because there are now post-conciliar Offices. That is, if one wants to negotiate the BCP to stay close to current Roman practice, following rules based on the pre-conciliar Offices no longer suffice. The post-conciliar Offices are structurally different and have different logics that are themselves adaptations of the pre-conciliar forms to a new model.

The bottom line is that how we place our canticles in Morning Prayer (or sort out any number of the other options) are theological decisions that may be driven be several different motivations including how we understand the theological principle of continuity and our understanding of ecumenism.

Furthermore, the theological valences of these choices are hidden to most Episcopalians. Most people neither know nor care nor know why they should care. And, at the root level, as long as they even know what the Daily Office is, I ought to be happy…