Category Archives: Anglican

Considering Ferial Days

Ok, so I’ve been mulling the issues with Holy Women, Holy Men (HWHM) around in my head for a while, trying to look at it from as many different angles as possible. One of the frequent criticisms of the work that I’ve encountered is that it seems to be trying to fill every available day. My own short-hand for this is “no feria left behind.”

A feria is a technical liturgical term whose basic English meaning is a regular weekday; Hughes helpfully and accurately describes it as “a day which is neither a Sunday nor a feast.”

One more time, here’s the chart of observances—take a good look:

Entries 1957-2013Now—how many fewer ferias are there now (2013) than what we had in 2003 when HWHM was officially authorized?

Are you calculating?

The answer—wait for it…is: none.

Indeed. There are precisely no fewer ferial days now than there were then. Yes, the observance count has jumped up dramatically, but none of these days, none of these liturgical events are required or enforced by the church. Zip. Nada.

If you turn with me to the front of your prayer book, you’ll note that the Calendar section identifies the days that are to be publicly observed with Eucharistic celebrations (with propers provided for in that book).

  1. Principal Feasts: these are the big 7 feasts which take precedence over everything else. 
  2. Sundays: There are 52 of these—although we’ve already accounted for three of them in the previous section.
  3. Holy Days: This is where things can and have changed. When the Calendar was originally proposed in 1964 there were 25 of them; in 1980 this number jumped to 32.
  4. Days of Special Devotion: As I’ve suggested before, this is more accurately an ascetical category than a liturgical one. No days are added here.
  5. Days of Optional Observance: These are days that “may be observed with the Collects, Psalms, and Lessons duly authorized by this Church.” But you don’t have to. They are entirely optional.

By my count, then, since 1980 there are (7+49+32=) 88 Sundays and feasts authorized by the prayer book in each year. Accordingly, there are 277 ferial days in a common year; 278 in a leap year.

What can we do liturgically on these days? This is the crux of the issue as I see it. So much of the discussion around HWHM seems to assume its use. It’s as if we have forgotten that we have options. But we do have options! And it’s worth thinking through what they are…

Option 1: We can choose to observe a Day of Optional Observance. So, using the trial resource HWHM or LFF 2006 which (as far as I can tell) is still the official non-trial document. (Isn’t it strange that you can’t buy it from Church Publishing, though? And that the cheapest edition of LFF currently on Amazon is $258[!?!]). This seems to be the default option in the heads of most people. To let it remain that way, though, is to miss the freedoms that the Calendar gives us.

Option 2: We can choose to observe the feria. The simplest way to do this is noted in the prayer book on p. 158: “The Proper appointed for the Sunday is also used at celebrations of the Eucharist on the weekdays following, unless otherwise ordered for Holy Days and Various Occasions. . . . Directions concerning the Common of Saints and services for Various Occasions are on pages 199, 199 [i.e., Rite I], 246 and 251 [i.e., Rite II].” For the Daily Offices, this means simply using the Collect from the previous Sunday (with a couple of exceptions around days like Epiphany, Ash Wednesday, Ascension, etc. as noted in the Collects). For the Eucharist this also means what it says—the Sunday Propers are repeated.

Prayer Book Studies XII (1958) gave a fair amount of thought to the Lenten season. Between the 6th and the 8th centuries the Roman Church had given special attention to these days and gradually assigned propers to all of them. Noting this, but further noting that most Episcopal Church parishes didn’t need nearly that many propers, this work offers proper readings (“Epistles” and Gospels [scare quotes required as these were all OT or Prophecies following ancient precedent]) but not collects for the old Station days—Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent. In the first authorized version of Lesser Feasts and Fasts (1964), both the readings and collects for these days were printed. (And here we actually have the eponymous “fasts” of the title. Ember Days for Advent, Summer and Autumn were also provided though I don’t consider them ferial in the technical sense as they would receive prayer book collects with the advent of the ’79 book and be listed amongst the “Days of Optional Observance”.) The rubric at the head of these weekday propers states that the priest may use these or the appropriate Sunday propers at his discretion on any day within that week.

With the advent of PBS19 and the move towards a three-year Sunday Mass lectionary with a psalm and three readings, this all changed. The note in the front of the Revised LFF (1973) makes reference to “Optional Collects and daily schedules of Psalms and Lessons for the weekdays of Lent.” Two weeks of optional collects are given. The general rubrics begin by saying that while this sequence is provided, the priest may use the proper of the preceding Sunday or the proper as appointed for a Lesser Feast or Ember Day. So—now there are readings provided for all ferial days in Lent, but no other season.

A full-on set of collects and lessons for every day in Lent appears in the next revision, LFF 3rd Ed. (1980). Lenten ferias get privileged, now: “In keeping with ancient tradition, the observance of Lenten weekdays ordinarily takes precedence over Lesser Feasts occuring during this season” (LFF3, 20). Easter ferial material appears now as well.  Twenty collects are provided as are ferial Eucharistic readings for every day in the Easter Season. The notes in this proper keep the flexibility of using any weekday reading on any other day in that week that stood at the head of the Lenten materials. However, the discussion of the Easter proper states the following:

Since the triumphs of the saints are a continuation and manifestation of the Paschal victory of Christ, the celebration of saints’ days is particularly appropriate during this season. On such days, therefore, the Collect, Lessons, Psalm, and Preface are ordinarily those of the saint. Where there is a daily celebration, however, the weekday Lessons and Psalm may be substituted. (LFF3, 56)

(Mark those words and the context in which they’re given…) With only 20 collects given for the Great Fifty Days, though, quite a number of Days of Optional Observance are in view if one doesn’t use the Sunday collect. So, with LFF3 ferial Eucharistic readings and collects are given for Lent and Easter.

At this point, I have a sizable gap in my LFF collection. Looking at the legislative documents, though, General Convention passed 1991-C025 referring to the SLC the daily Eucharistic lectionary of the Church of England and the Anglican Church of Canada. (I believe Forward in Faith had a hand in this—can anyone confirm or deny?) GC authorized in 1994 the daily (ferial) Eucharistic lectionary for the seasons of Advent and Christmas but gave no new collects. The SLC didn’t like the idea of a continuous reading scheme for Post-Epiphany/Pentecost and chose to explore their options, coming back with a six-week series. In 1997-A073 it looks like an amended six-week cycle was adopted in addition to the CoE/ACC scheme thus giving provisions for all ferial Eucharistic services.

Jumping to HWHM, the question on my mind is whether permission is given for a ferial celebration on any ferial day. In the directions (Concerning the Proper) before the Advent/Christmas section, I see these words:

On days of optional observance on the Calendar, the Collect, Lessons, Psalm and Preface are ordinarily those of the saint. Where there is a daily celebration, however, the weekday Lessons and Psalm may be substituted. (HWHM, 24)

And these are precisely the words that stood in the Easter section following an explanation of why the celebration of saints was especially suitable in that season. Days of Optional Observance seem to be granted a preference given the use of “ordinarily.” (This seems odd given the traditional privileging of Advent ferias particularly upon reaching Sapientiatide…) At the back of HWHM, both the 6-week scheme and the 2-year CoE/ACC scheme for Ordinary seasons are given, but no mention is made of them giving way to Days of Optional Observance.

To summarize, ferial days can be celebrated either in the Daily Office or in weekday Eucharists by using the propers of the previous Sunday (or Principal Feast). This permission is granted in the BCP and is not revoked. Alternatively, ferial Eucharistic propers for the whole year are provided in LFF/HWHM (albeit in a rather disjointed fashion) with collects that could be used in the Office for Lent and Easter. While the rubrics recommend priority going to Days of Optional Observance in Advent/Christmas and an expressed preference for them in Easter, this is not mandated.

Option 3: We can choose to observe a Votive. Votives were common in medieval missals; one edition of the Sarum had 29; others had more. PBS19 reprints the SLC’s report to the General Convention of 1967 on votives which broadly identify two types: intercessory and doctrinal. That is, there are those that focus upon particular intentions, and there are those that focus upon specific doctrines. The prayer book offers 25 votives (see pp. 199-210; 251-261; 927-931) in addition to the 14 commons of the 6 identified kinds of saints. These votives are granted with only the following permissive rubric: “For optional use, when desired, subject to the rules set forth in the Calendar of the Church Year.” (BCP, 199; 251)  HWHM itself adds a combination of 12 commons and votives (including 2 for the BVM) bringing the total authorized votives and commons to 51.

When are these votives used? Well, the first seven in the prayer book loosely follow the typical weekly votive cycle with the exception of Saturday’s which was usually given to the BVM. Otherwise little direction is given. The rubric at their head, though, makes clear that they can be used on any day that is not claimed by a Sunday or Feast…

Of the major complaints I have heard around HWHM, there are three that stand out in particular.

  1. It doesn’t leave enough ferial days. Frankly, I’ve not been convinced that this is a major problem. After all, I’m a medievalist. I’m used to martyrologies that pile multiple people onto every single day of the year and kalendars that choose amongst the options of whom to celebrate. All of these figures are optional. The absence of ferias is only an issue if you choose to celebrate everyone who comes along, and that is not required.
  2. The criteria given were not used with regard to the people chosen. This is more of an issue. And it ties into…
  3. Not all the people chosen pass a litmus test for “sanctity.” In a sense this is a narrowing of the 2nd issue in that it is a focus upon the criteria around leading a sufficiently holy life. What counts and what doesn’t? I have a certain sympathy with this one. There are folks in HWHM who I don’t feel belong due to a lack of sanctity. But sanctity is not an easy thing to quantify…

What if…

What if—we made the options more clear?

What if we held a book clearly entitled “Optional Observances”? What if “Holy Women, Holy Men” was the title of a subsection of it rather than the whole? And if the ferial material was not scattered throughout it in disjointed fashion but presented as a coherent option equal to HWHM?

What if we promoted the votives more and gave them a focus?

There are people in HWHM whom I have a hard time honoring eucharistically as saints. However, I think many of them could be illustrations at votive masses for, say, “Artists & Writers” (HWHM, 728) or “Care of God’s Creation” (HWHM, 731), or “Social Justice” (BCP, 209/260). What if an almanac section—apart from the HWHM section—were to collect them and unite them with particularly appropriate votive occasions? The individuals in question would be remembered and commemorated, and the Church would only have to demonstrate “importance” or “significance” rather than the higher bar of “sanctity.” Perhaps this would give us the mechanism for remembering those figures of the past concerning whom we can’t render a full decision now but whom we do not wish to forget, or those who come close to the sanctoral criteria but fail on just a few.

What do you think?

 

Thoughts on Saints and Organic Development

I’ve been pondering a passage from W. H. Frere. As I’ve mentioned before, the revision and creation of Anglican Kalendars was in large measure spearheaded by the thoughts laid down by Frere in his 1911 book Some Principles of Liturgical Reform: A Contribution towards the Revision of the Book of Common Prayer. Here’s the passageI’ve been mulling over:

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 [p. 20] 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 Prayer Book was reached; but different relative value and force has been assigned to them at different times. (Frere, Some Principles, 19-20)

Looking at Holy Women, Holy Men, one of the chief issues is its massive multiplication of feast days. Our ferial days are disappearing fast. Again, this is represented graphically in this image:

Entries 1957-2013The resolution that originally authorized the work that would become HWHM is 2003-A100 and it says this:

Resolved, That the 74th General Convention direct the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music to undertake a revision of Lesser Feasts and Fasts 2000, to reflect our increasing awareness of the importance of the ministry of all the people of God and of the cultural diversity of The Episcopal Church, of the wider Anglican Communion, of our ecumenical partners, and of our lively experience of sainthood in local communities; and be it further

Resolved, That the SCLM produce a study of the significance of that experience of local sainthood in encouraging the living out of baptism; and be it further

Resolved, That the General Convention request the Joint Standing Committee on Program, Budget, and Finance to consider a budget allocation of $20,000 for implementation of this resolution.

I’m thinking out loud right now about the call for local stuff in connection with the Frere quote and a broader question about the nature and purpose of the church-wide kalendar in the BCP…

Does HWHM reflect or forward “our lively experience of sainthood in local communities”? Or does it reflect people that various committees wanted to get included for various reasons?

Wouldn’t the goal of local celebration be better served if we did more work raising up the importance of local parish and diocesan kalendars? If we did that, then the church-wide kalendar would be better seen as a collection of Frere’s 1 and 3; the role of 2 would fall to the local communties who know their own people best…

Could a more minimalist kalendar function to better support local, lay, diverse visions of sanctity than a maximalist list imposed from the centralized authority?

Theses on Sanctity

Looking back at my previous post and assorted comments and at COD’s thoughts on Lent Madness, one of the core problems confronting Holy Women, Holy Men and the efforts to fix it is a lack of an explicit Episcopal theology of sanctity. Of course, there are very few widely recognized “Episcopal theologies of” anything which is simultaneously a bug and a feature.

I once tried to go through the BCP catechism and do for death/sanctity/eschatology what I did for the Sacraments, but found that there was so little reference to these topics that it wasn’t worth the effort. I think that there is a theology of sanctity that can be drawn from prayer book as a whole, but I had neither the time nor energy for that endeavor at that point.

Nonetheless, here are some fundamental theses on an Episcopal theology on sanctity that I believe do proceed from the prayer book and the classic Anglican devotional life. (And, yes, Rdr. Morgan, these may address some of your questions…)

1. A theology of saints and sanctity exists at the intersection of Christology, Ecclesiology, and Sacramental Theology.

As I’ve said before and no doubt will say again, one of the great issues of the modern church is our tendency to compartmentalize and categorize and to treat theological matters as if they existed in their own little glass boxes disconnected from anything else. Theology doesn’t work that way. Inter-relation is the name of the game.

In order to speak meaningfully about the saints, we have to talk about Christ. The Incarnation is central here. Christ is both an exemplar and the one who transforms us. He is the first-fruits of the resurrection. He is the one who did teach us, is teaching, and will teach us in thought, word, and deed. He connects us to himself and transforms us according to his own likeness.

But to speak of this connection and transformation is to speak also of Sacramental Theology—of grace and the means of grace that bind us into the Body of Christ and nourish us towards the Mind of Christ. Baptism and the Eucharist and the sacramental actions by which ordinary material reality is bound within the community to the powerful promises of Christ to be means of grace for the community and beyond mirrors the alchemy of sanctity that transforms our earthen vessels into something more substantial.

To speak of the sacramental and eschatological Body of Christ leads us to Ecclesiology, the theology of the Church, the persistence of Christ in his Church and the character and mission of the Bride of Christ. Where are the boundaries of the Church? What is the character of the Church? What is our fundamental mission?

A coherent theology of sanctity is incomplete with these pieces being integral parts of the answer. Perhaps this is one of the reasons that there is no explicit Anglican or Episcopal theology of sanctity—there are so many disagreements in these other areas that there is not enough common ground on which to construct one!

2. Sanctity can be simply defined as the aim and completion of a sacramental life of discipleship.

We are a sacramental Church. The sacraments are ecclesially dispensed ordinary channels of grace that bind us into the life of God. The reality of this binding is expressed in a cruciform life of discipleship. Sanctity is the standard against which progress into this cruciform life is measured; sanctity is the incarnate expression of relaxing our humanity into the person of Christ.

We talk quite a lot about the Baptismal Covenant. If things are properly aligned, then sanctity is related to a keeping of the promises taken on in this covenant.

3. We are missing part of the picture if we do not recognize there there are several key facets of who the saints are and who they are for us: they are a) elder siblings on the way of the cross, b) mirrors of the light of Christ, c) present intercessors, and d) pillars for the Church.

I use the word “facets” deliberately. Facets are different faces and aspects of a single thing—not different things that may or may not be grouped together… At the Reformation, protestant reactions against the abuses seen in popular devotion to the saints led to a myopic reduction of the role and identity of the saints. That is to say, I believe that there were legitimate theological problems with the way that devotion to the saints was expressed in late medieval Europe. I believe that some of these issues still persist. And, to touch on a point raised by a comment on the previous post, I think that much Anglican anxiety around Our Lady is because Marian devotion past and present sits uncomfortable near, on, or over the line between veneration (which is appropriate) and worship (which is not). (This is my main statement on Mary from a while back.)

The end result is that the protestant reformers tended to cut things back severely to the degree that they tended to give (a) their grudging assent and preferred to ignore the others. This is what’s in the Augsburg Confession; the 39 Articles don’t even go that far. In doing so, they violated the tradition of the Church and the teaching of Scripture. (I won’t say clear teaching as the most obvious pieces regarding this appear in Revelation and, due to its nature, it’s rather best to avoid the “clear” word.)

What I tend to see in the current Episcopal Church—perhaps as exemplified in some of the Lent Madness discussions—is a similar reduction of the saints to facet (a). As a result, some clarity on the scope of these facets is essential.

A. The Saints are Elder Siblings on the Way of the Cross.

The saints are exemplars for us in that they give us a picture of what faithful lives look like in a multitude of societies and situations. How they acted inspires us and gives us models. In this facet, we tend to cleave closest to saints with whom we share points of identification whether that be gender, race, class, profession, or situation. This is a lot of what we see going on in Lent Madness comments.

This is the “particularity” piece that helps us work through how we live the Gospel in our particularity—by learning about the particularity of others. However, an over-emphasis on this facet can be a danger when we come to believe that our goal is following the direct example of the saint. After all, no matter how closely connected we seem to be, their particularity is not our particularity. Yes, we should imitate them, but we also must be fully cognizant of what it is that we are imitating! And that leads us directly to our next facet…

B. The Saints are Mirrors of the Light of Christ.

Saints are mirrors, not light-sources. They don’t generate their own glow; rather they glow from reflecting the light of Christ. The saints cleave to Christ, and—in so doing—they cultivate the virtues of Christ. The praiseworthy deeds done by the saints are to be followed and imitated because of the way in which they embody the virtues of Christ. For instance, the marches organized by Martin Luther King Jr. reflect a creative combination of the virtues of justice, fortitude, and temperance (specifically in resisting the many temptations to violence). To simply say, “Let’s march!” without grasping these internal principles is not imitating the saint; it is failing to discern the universal—the aspect of Christ—that is bound into the particular.

I can’t help but think of Cassian’s citation of St. Antony in his description of how monks are to learn virtue from their elders:

For it is an ancient and admirable saying of the blessed Antony to the effect that when a monk, after having opted for the cenobium, is striving to the heights of a still loftier perfection, has seized upon the consideration of discretion and is already able to rely on his own judgment and to come to the pinnacle of the anchorite life, he must not seek all the kinds of virtue from one person, however outstanding he may be. For there is one adorned with the flowers of knowledge, another who is more strongly fortified by the practice of discretion, another who is solidly founded in patience, one who excels in the virtue of humility and another in that of abstinence, while still another is decked with the grace of simplicity, this one surpasses the others by his zeal for magnanimity, that one by mercy, another one by vigils, yet another by silence, and still another by toil. Therefore the monk who, like a most prudent bee, is desirous of storing up spiritual honey must suck the flower of a particular virtue from those who possess it most intimately, and he must lay it up carefully in the vessel of his heart. He must not begrudge a person for what he has less of, but he must contemplate and eagerly gather up only the virtuousness that he possesses. For if we want to obtain all of them from a single individual, either examples will be hard to find, or, indeed, there will be none that would be suitable for us to imitate. The reason for this is that, although we see that Christ has not yet been made ―all in all‖ (to cite the words of the Apostle), we can nonetheless in this fashion find him partly in all. For it is said of him that ―by God‘s doing he was made for us wisdom, righteousness, holiness, and redemption. Inasmuch, therefore, as there is wisdom in one, righteousness in another, holiness in another, meekness in another, chastity in another, and humility in another, Christ is now divided among each of the holy ones, member by member. But when we are all assembled together in the unity of faith and virtue, he appears as ―the perfect man,‖ completing the fullness of his body in the joining together and in the characteristics of the individual members. (John Cassian, Institutes 5.4)

For Cassian, the practice of virtue is not fundamentally the cultivation of self-improvement. Rather, as monks grow in virtue they grow into the fullness of Christ and as constituent members of the Body of Christ, they contribute to the eschatological consummation when Christ will be all in all. The quest for virtue is the quest to more fully and completely participate in the life and redemptive work of the Risen Lord.

This is the very same work in which we engage when we study the saints and seek to model their virtues in our lives. Their virtues are theirs only on loan; the heart of their virtue flows from Christ. Therefore, the saints—in congruence with Mary to the servants at the wedding of Cana—always point us back to Christ: “do whatever he tells you.” If we focus too hard on the saints, we end up staring at the finger—not the moon to which it points; yet without their finger we stumble for lack of guidance.

C. The Saints are Present Intercessors.

In Baptism, we are joined into the Body of Christ in all the fullness of meaning that the phrase contains. We share in his resurrection life; we are part of his Church. As members of that Church, one of our fundamental rights and responsibilities is intercession: to pray for one another. As partakers of his resurrection life, at death “life is changed, not ended” (proper preface for the commemoration of the dead, BCP 382). If the saints remain faithful to their baptized identity in this changed life, then intercession  is an inevitable part of it. I’ve written on how I see this functioning in such a way to help anxious Anglicans understand it in this piece so I won’t rehash it all here.

D. The Saints are the Pillars of the Church.

I’m using a metaphor here that I think is helpful because it incorporates aspects of both stasis and visibility. In identifying saints, the Church says something about who it is and how it understands itself by way of the individuals singled out. That is, all responsible theologies of sanctity agree that we on this side of the veil do not and will never know who were and were not saints. There are some presently enjoying the eschatological intimacy with God that would surprise and shock us—of this I have no doubt. As a result, the ecclesial act of recognizing individuals really does say as much about us as it does about them. This is that whole “social memory” thing that I’ve brought up from time to time. In identifying saints we claim them and their history as part of our present identity. Hence the drive mentioned in the previous comments for “how well the saint in question agrees with our own theological politics.”

By including non-Anglican saints we are displaying our greatness-of-spirit by showing that we don’t believe that the holy is restricted to our church. (Did that “greatness-of-spirit” thing sound tongue-in-cheek? Good—it was supposed to…) However, by including Anglican saints we are displaying a conviction that the Anglican path is a true path to holiness (amongst others). Indeed, this was the articulated rationale for only including Anglicans in the post-Reformation period in Prayer Book Studies IX.

So—the individuals we select say something about our identity now. But a pillar doesn’t define a structure; a structure, a Church, is defined by the selection and arrangement of pillars. Likewise, it’s not enough to be selective and intentional about picking individuals; we must be cognizant of how our individual choices shape the Calendar that we offer to the Church. Do the individuals reflect a balanced sense of what we mean by life in Christ or does it get weighted or tilted or skewed in certain directions to the exclusion of others? I think this is one of the big fights around HWHM. It’s not enough to work with the individuals; the structure offered by the whole of the Calendar matters just as much—maybe more.

Ok. There are more theses to theorize, more thoughts to think, and likely more bombs to throw. But they’ll have to wait for another time.

Modern Saints Trending?

beth_may tweeted an interesting thought earlier today:

Well, the @LentMadness 8 seem to support @haligweorc HWHM research that modern Episcopalians now mostly prefer only modern saints

Since I’ve been mostly offline for Lent (more by happenstance than as a discipline…) I actually haven’t been following the brackets very closely. But she’s certainly identified a trend…

What are your thoughts on this?

One of the things my work on HWHM has done for me is that it’s made me stop and think about what I look for in a saint. That is, I’ve been spending more time considering what is “saintly” and how the saints function in my faith. A big piece of it for me is that the saints are those people who lead me into the numinous presence of God. I have an Ottonian (following Rudolph Otto, not the Carolingian monarch) notion of holiness that has far less to do with ethics and far more with the in-breaking awesome presence of that which is fundamentally non-rational and non-material into our direct experience. I get that with folks like Benedict or Bride or Cuthbert. I don’t get that so much with Frances Perkins or Harriet Tubman.

I’m not saying that these people aren’t saints because they don’t engage my imagination the way I want them to—that’s not my point. What is the role of the mystical and mysterious in our current experience and appropriation of sanctity? Modern Anglican churches have never used miracles as a criterion for sanctity—and that’s probably not a bad thing—but what a reference to miracles does keep in the conversation is a sense of eschatological power. That those who are plugged deeply into the life of God express that power in their interactions almost as a by-product of who and what they are. Have we lost that section of the conversation in our criteria for sanctity?

Conversely, I wonder if my hesitation at so many of the modern candidates is at them or the ways that we choose to tell their stories. To what degree is that otherness, that holiness absent—or to what degree has it been edited out?

Liturgy as Language

I haven’t been online a whole lot since around the beginning of Lent. The computer dying was part of it as was general busy-ness. In any case, I’m trying to get caught up on things, including interesting things that were happening online while I was away.

One of these things was this talk from Fr. Bosco Peters. Now, if you read this blog, you probably also ought to be reading his blog anyway. I don’t always agree with everything that he says or suggests, but he is a good, thoughtful voice on Anglican liturgy grounded in the history and ecumenical aspects of it. (He’s also a Kiwi so it’s interesting to have his perspective on a book greatly beloved but little understood by many American liberal-types…)

The general approach that Fr. Peters takes in this talk should be fairly familiar. I see him operating within the sphere of the post-liberal/Yale School perspective pioneered by Frei and Lindbeck that understands religion generally to be a linguistic-cultural phenomenon into which one is enculturated. (This is in opposition to, among others, a perspective of religion as a body of ideas to which one does or does not give assent.) Fr. Peters sees liturgy as a fundamental language of the Christian culture. I heartily agree and have used this perspective myself in some of my own presentations.

What I find most interesting here is the way that Fr. Peters pushes this perspective/metaphor. Making the logical next step, he gives us some very interesting thoughts about fluency. This is a very intriguing way to think about liturgy and the church, how we reach out to the non/un/de-churched, and also how we think about clergy and leaders within our own church and their facility (or lack thereof) in the liturgy.

Do take some time to read over the presentation or to watch it.

Thoughts on Liturgical Categorization

Introduction

I’ve recently been pondering the ways that we categorize and analyze liturgy. What are the various bits, bobs, and elements that  we can use to make sense of liturgical texts that retain meaning across time? To put a finer point on it, how would we go about creating a taxonomy for liturgical texts that could apply equally well to a 9th century Anglo-Saxon liturgical miscellany and the ’79 Book of Common Prayer? Specifically, can one be created that can be used for the analytic markup of liturgical materials for digital use?

The best way to begin is to not reinvent the wheel. Other, wiser, and better-informed minds than mine have worked around this issue even if the scope was not entirely the same. People who work on manuscripts have already had to do a lot of this work, as have the pioneers who began the work of digitizing the material that’s available on the web in a variety of forms. Whenever we encounter someone who has done both, we know that we’re in the right company! As a result, the best conversation partner for this work is Andrew Hughes, author of the magisterial Medieval Manuscripts for Mass and Office: A Guide to their Organization and Terminology (MMMO) and the ground-breaking Late Medieval Liturgical Offices (LMLO) digital project which is only partially online through this search resource.

The MMMO presents a set of abbreviations and symbols used both within it and in the LMLO. These are presented and discussed on pages ix-xxv. The two questions we need to answer are these: 1) do his temporal restrictions (the years 1200-1500) invalidate his scheme for this proposed general use that hopes to expand out to include material produced 4 centuries in each direction? 2) to what degree can his material be adopted and where must it be adapted?

I’d suggest, first, that the bones of the schema here can be preserved with the important caveat that this taxonomy is only appropriate to Western liturgies that have their basis in the Latin-speaking tradition. That is, I think it’s helpful and useful as long as we don’t try to apply it to Eastern Orthodox liturgies or various modern protestant liturgical traditions that eschew the historic liturgy. With this caveat in mind, I do believe that there is sufficient continuity within the historic western liturgy that question 1 can be answered satisfactorily.

Moving to the second question, a certain amount of adaptation will be required. While Hughes uses abbreviations that sometimes overlap and must be distinguished by typeface or other methods, abbreviations are no longer necessary in a scheme intended for use within a modern markup situation. Indeed, not only are they not necessary, they’re not desirable either as their use hampers the natural-language legibility of a marked-up document. (That is, you have to refer to a key instead of just looking at the source text and understanding what’s going on…)

Too, as is perfectly appropriate for his project, Hughes uses technical liturgical terms appropriate for the high medieval period. Given the much wider span that we’re looking at, not all of these terms may possess or retain the particular technical definitions they had in Hughes’s span. As a result, while I think most can be used as is, it’s worth considering where we might need to build in tolerances to handle this situation. (This is one I’m holding in reserve—I can’t think of any cases like this at the moment but reserve the right to discover some…)

When I read through Anglican prayer books, I see a number of elements that don’t seem to fit properly within the elements that he offers. In order to maximize meaningful tagging within these documents, we will need to add elements that go outside the scope of the texts Hughes was considering. For instance, an enduring heritage of the 1552 book is lengthy addresses by the presider to the congregation; I don’t recall these in earlier liturgies nearly to the degree that we have them now.

One of the most helpful aspects of Hughes’s scheme is that it offers, by means of several lists, different levels of elements necessary to distinguish between whether you’re talking about a specific section of a book or a service itself or about an event within a given service. This aspect definitely needs to be retained and will be reflected in how we present and order our proposed elements.

Proposals

I envision this categorization scheme at use within the TEI P5 guidelines for xml markup of humanities texts. Thus, the section-level and service-level elements would appear as “type” descriptors within <div> elements; intra-service elements would be noted as types within <seg> elements tied to <interp> and <interpGrp> sections.

Section Level Elements

This level would identify sections within a book and be located within <div> tags. The following list is a modification of Hughes’s List 1e with the inclusion of some items from 1f.

  • Aspersion
  • Common of saints
  • Dedication feast
  • Hymnal
  • Invitatorium
  • Kalendar
  • Ordo
  • Ordinary of the Mass
  • Kyriale
  • Psalter
  • General rubric (as a section rather than a specific direction)
  • Sanctorale
  • Temporale
  • Votives
  • Tonary
  • Prayers (as a collection/grouping of prayers of the same sort)

Service Level Elements

These labels would identify the specific rituals or services being described and would operate at the <div> level. This is a substantial expansion of Hughes’s List 1c.

  •  Office
    • First Vespers
    • Compline
    • Matins
    • Prime
    • Chapter
    • Terve
    • Sext
    • Nones
    • Vespers
    • Morning Prayer
    • Noon Prayer
    • Evening Prayer
    • Lamp Lighting
  • Eucharist
  • Baptism
  • Confirmation
  • Confession
  • Unction
  • Marriage
  • Burial
  • Procession
  • Exorcism
  • Rite (Thinking specifically, of the ’79 BCP, the alternation between Rites I & II is a service-level phenomenon and needs to be captured at that point.)
  • Service (This is a generic catch-all for anything else not covered. Differentiation would appear in a subtype.)

Liturgical Elements

These items would appear within interpretive  <seg> elements. This is a modification of Hughes’s List 1a, List 1b, and 1f

  • antiphon
    • invitatory
    • gospel canticle
    • psalm
  • lesson
    • chapter (a brief, generally one sentence bit from Scripture in an Office)
    • first lesson
    • second lesson
    • prophecy
    • epistle
    • gospel
    • announcement
    • conclusion
  • psalm
    • invitatory
  • canticle
    • invitatory
    • gospel
  • dialogue
    • versicle
    • response
  • intercession
    • petition
    • response
  • litany
    • section
    • petition
    • section response
  • orison (the English term for an oratio—basically any kind of a number of relatively short prayers typically found in early medieval mass-sets and most commonly encountered in Anglican books as collects. However, not all so-called collects fit the formal criteria for collects; preserving “orison” as a general-use term conveys the concept even when the contents fall short)
    • collect
    • secret
    • post-communion
  • sermon
  • hymn
  • anthem
  • canon
  • proper preface
  • consecration (not just of Eucharistic elements but of baptismal water, etc.)
  • distribution (again, could be Eucharistic elements, baptismal water, ashes, etc.)
  • fraction anthem
    • agnus dei
  • creed
  • communion chant
  • gloria
  • doxology
  • gradual
  • introit
  • kyrie
  • offertory chant
  • sanctus
  • tract
  • responsory
    • verse
    • repetenda
    • doxology
  • benediction
  • rubric
  • prayer (this is a generic catch-all when the presider addresses God when none of the above seem to fit.)
  • address (this is a generic catch-all when the presider speaks to the people and nothing above seems suitable.)
  • response (this is the generic catch-all when the people speak and nothing above seems suitable.)

Concluding Thoughts

I believe this lays out a useful initial plan for liturgical tagging. That having been said, I’ve done enough liturgical research and enough coding to know that this represents only a tentative beginning. As well defined as things seem to be at the beginning, the true usefulness of the scheme is revealed in the coding itself. As a result, this provides a framework. Now some coding actually needs to be attempted to determined where this works, where it fails, and where the framework needs to be reconceived.

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.

 

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.