During the Season of Advent, we switched to Rite I for our daily Morning Prayer services at Christ the King. My reasoning was similar to that of using Rite I in Lent - the language of Rite I is bit more penitential in some places. And one of the disciplines that the season of Advent calls us to engage is penitence. We are examining and preparing ourselves for the coming of Christ. 

Aside from the penitential ethos of the rite, something just feels right about praying the Advent liturgy in Elizabethan English. When we switch to Rite I, the rhythm of the liturgy shifts, just as the theological and scriptural themes shift (from Ordinary Time to Advent). 

So the simultaneous change in rhythm and content has an integrity that simply felt right to me during Advent. But when the season of Christmas came upon us, I switched back to Rite II. Christmas marks a new day – a new time – and new themes (scripturally and liturgically) emerge. 

But for some reason this year, the rhythm of Rite II didn’t feel right to me on Christmas Day (or the next). Perhaps I was just feeling the rub of a new rhythm, which can be a good thing. In the world of physical fitness, athletic trainers says that it is good to “confuse your muscles” from time to time. It helps them grow. 

I’m sure that by the time Ash Wednesday rolls around, I will be firmly grounded in the rhythm of Rite II, and the switch to Rite I will be disorienting. Again, this will be a good, healthy thing for my prayer life. 

The rite you use to pray the Daily Office is not the most important decision we have to make – either rite is fine. The most important choice we make is to pray the office on a daily basis, so that we get grounded in the holy rhythm of the scriptures and prayers of the church.

Christmas blessings to all of you!

Richard+ 

The Rhythm of Advent

To me, there is no other season on the church calendar that is as grounded in rhythm as Advent. With Advent, the longseason of Ordinary Time/The Season After Pentecost comes to a close. I have heard folks refer to Ordinary Time as the “never-ending sea of green.” But with Advent, not only do we switch out our green vestments and altar hangings for violet (or blue), we also mark time in other ways as well.

The Advent Wreath is a visual way of marking time as we prepare for the coming of Christ. The four candles on the perimeter remind us that this season is not like the last one – it is only four weeks long. And when we light a new candle each week, we are marking time and keeping rhythm in a very distinct, sacramental way. We can clearly see “where we are” in the measure of time. 

Advent calendars are another means for marking and keeping time during this holy season. Rather than marking the week, we mark the days until the Feast of the Incarnation. This is helps us prepare our hearts and minds for the coming of Christ (not Santa Claus) in our hearts, minds, bodies, and homes.  

Our scripture lessons – both in the Daily Office and Daily/Weekly Eucharistic lectionaries – also help us mark time during the season of Advent. Much of the scripture lessons are prophesies from the Old Testament (mostly Isaiah) as well as from John the Baptizer, who serves as the bridge between the old and new covenants. After a very long season of Ordinary Time lectionary readings, when we finally hear John’s voice crying out in the wilderness, we are “jarred awake” and reminded that time is shifting. 

The music during Advent is another way of unsettling us, so to speak. It feels and sounds different than the music we have been hearing and singing the last several months. The lyrical themes shift as well, as the focus becomes on the prophetic messages of penitence, hope, and expectation. 

As we continue to navigate through this holy season of Advent, let us tap in to the rhythm of the season. As I have pointed out, there are many ways to do so – some more cerebral, some more sensory. But let us be sure that as we synchronize with the rhythm of the season, we also synchronize into the grace that comes with the rhythm. The rhythm doesn’t exist for itself. The changes in the liturgy and in the decorations are meant to stir up our hearts and minds so that we can be better attuned to God’s grace as we await the coming of Christ. 

Advent blessings and Peace!

Richard+

Our year with the Gospel of Mark – Year B in the lectionary cycle – comes to a close today. Our journey with Mark started with Jesus proclaiming that “the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near.” The words spoken by the prophets – and most recently by John the Baptist - were finally coming to pass. Now that God had come to dwell among us, the beginning of the end had finally arrived. As we come to the end of Mark’s gospel, Jesus is still talking about the End Times, but now, he is talking about what it will be like after he is no longer physically present on earth.

This passage from Mark is known as the “Little Apocalypse” because of its focus on the End Times. There are two books of the Bible that are categorized as Apocalyptic literature  – Daniel in the Old Testament, which we heard this morning, and The Revelation to John. Their sole purpose is to talk about how they see the End Times coming about. In addition to those two books, there are several apocalyptic nuggets thrown in, like the one we get today from Mark.

The apocalyptic literature of the Bible emerged out of oppressed communities. The context of the Book of Daniel was the Babylonian Exile, and the context of the Revelation to John was the Roman occupation of Israel. It is concerned with the end of human history, and predicts cosmic upheavals and the final judgement. Apocalyptic writing is always highly symbolic, and is never meant to be taken strictly at face value. The purpose of this literature is to provide encouragement to God’s faithful people during times of trial – whether it be persecution, oppression, or sort of injustice.

The people of God recognized that they could not win deliverance from their enemies by their own power, so they looked to God to make things right. Divine victory could not be won by military might. The only way they could prevail would be for God to intervene and set things right for the righteous.

Needless to say, this literature can be difficult for us to relate to on many levels. The language of apocalyptic literature is supernatural and deeply symbolic and cryptic, so it can be terribly difficult to understand and interpret. But also, I think that it is difficult for communities who are in a position of power to fully understand and embrace this literature. And that makes perfect sense, because the whole point of this literature is to assert that the earthly powers and principalities will fall so that the last will be made first and the first will be made last. It’s no wonder that most Episcopalians don’t spend a lot of time reading and quoting Daniel and the Revelation to John. 

But Apocalyptic literature isn’t just about sending a divine warning to those in power. If that were the case, there wouldn’t be much for us to do but wait and see how God sorts us all out in the end. The Apocalyptic literature of the Bible reminds us that the world had a beginning, and it will have an end. When God breathed creation into being, there was a purpose – a trajectory for it all. After the Fall in the Garden, the story was changed but there was still a purpose for creation. The post-Fall purpose was for God to bring about reconciliation between God’s own self and God’s creation, as well as reconciliation among God’s people. 

Whether it was the covenant with Abraham and Sarah, the covenant with Noah and his family, or the Exodus from Egypt, God was constantly at work trying to liberate God’s people from the bondage of sin – their own sin as well as the sins of their oppressors.

The penultimate moment in God’s story was when nothing else worked, God chose to dwell among us to bring about this reconciliation. The story of Jesus as told in the Gospels is very clear about Jesus’ earthly ministry. We hear how he lived here on earth, and we hear how he died, and how he rose from the dead. Eucharistic Prayer A in our Prayer Book calls it the mystery of faith  - “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” Right now, we are in between the Christ is risen and Christ will come again parts of that mystery of faith. 

How do we wait? What do we do while we wait? Danish theologian Anthony Hoekema said it well when speaking of the End Times: “We do not know the exact time of the Apocalypse. While we await it, we must all live as though Christ died yesterday, arose this morning, and is coming again tomorrow.” What Hoekema is saying is that we should live in to the immediacy of God. The linear timeline of God’s story covers several millennia, and who knows how long that linear timeline will stretch? But if we allow ourselves to ignore the truths communicated in apocalyptic literature – no matter how difficult they are to understand, interpret, or embrace – then we are removing ourselves from God’s story. Our good deeds and our lives well-lived end up being only for ourselves, and only for the here and now. We must remember that the here and now is a very small part of God’s very large plan and trajectory for God’s creation. 

A lot of apocalyptic literature includes natural disasters as precursors to the Final Judgment. In today’s lesson from Mark, Jesus mentions earthquakes. Natural disasters seem to be commonplace these days, whether it was Hurricane Michael or the fires in California. When these things happen, talk of God’s providence always emerges – “Why did God allow this to happen? What is God trying to communicate? Is God punishing us?” 

Harry Blamires in The Will and the Way addresses this sort of question by saying, “The doctrine of providence does not claim that every misfortune (even natural disaster) is divinely purposed…only that it is divinely purposeful. There is a great difference here. We have no right to claim of any given misfortune…that it is directly expressive of God’s will: only that it can be made an instrument for the expression of God’s will. And so we can ourselves.”

In other words, God’s will is being carried out in all of the faithful, compassionate relief efforts that are happening in response to the natural disasters. God didn’t send Hurricane Michael to prove a point. But God has been and continues to send God’s people to prove a point – that God’s love can be the source of comfort. God’s love can rebuild anything that is broken. 

Our lesson from the letter to the Hebrews addresses this very issue of what we are to do while we wait for Judgement Day: “Let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together…and encouraging one another as you see the Day approaching.”

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Until that day comes, let us work while we wait. And let our work be the work of the Body of Christ  -  God’s hands, feet, eyes, ears, heart, and mind seeking to do God’s loving will in the world.

Yesterday (November 14) we celebrated the Consecration of Samuel Seabury - the first bishop of the American Episcopal Church - at our weekly “Celebrate the Saints” service at Christ the King (Wednesdays at 4:30). Once he was nominated to serve as the first bishop, Seabury travelled to England to seek consecration.

So after a year of failed negotiations with the Church in England, Seabury travelled to Scotland and was consecrated by three non-juring bishops …under one condition – that the American Episcopal Church use the Scottish form of the Eucharistic Prayer. This form has its roots in the Eastern (Orthodox) Church as opposed to the Western (Roman) Church. The main difference between the two is that in the Eastern tradition, the epiclesis (calling upon the Holy Spirit to bless and sanctify the gifts of bread and wine) precedes the words of institution (“…Do this in remembrance of me.”).

Seabury saw to it that the first American Book of Common Prayer (1789) honored this request from the Scottish Episcopal Church. So in a very profound way, our roots are every bit as much grounded in the Scottish Episcopal Church as they are the Church of England. In our current Prayer Book (1979), Eucharistic Prayer “C” follows this order of the epiclesis preceding the words of institution.

For the Eucharistic Prayer at last evening’s worship service, we used the prayer from the 1789 Book of Common Prayer as a way to honor and remember not only Samuel Seabury, but also the Scottish Episcopal Church and those three bishops who consecrated Seabury in Aberdeen in 1784. 

In terms of rhythm – and the rhythm of prayer – our rhythm was thrown off a little last evening. The folks who attend this service are faithful regulars, and we have fallen in to a healthy, holy rhythm of common prayer together each week. Using a Eucharistic Prayer that dates back to 1789, where the language is much more formal, and the epiclesis precedes the words of institution, was a little disorienting for us all (we are creatures of prayerful habit). 

But I think it was important for us to be invited into a new rhythm – a new time signature, a new beat – and experience Christ’s real presence in a new (ancient) way.

To learn more about the Scottish Episcopal Church, click here

A fairly common question I get asked as a parish priest is, “Why did the Episcopal Church get rid of the Apostles’ Creed?” When I get this question, I know that the person must have memories of worshipping in the Episcopal Church prior to the 1979 Book of Common Prayer. The ’79 Prayer Bookmade Holy Eucharist the primary worship service for Sundays. And with that service came the recitation of Nicene Creed. So where did the Apostles’ Creed go? 

Nowhere. If we follow the Anglican tradition of praying the Daily Office (Morning and Evening Prayer), we end up saying the Apostles’ Creed 14 times a week! So while it is no longer the Creed that we say in worship on Sundays, it can still be a part of our daily practice of prayer.

One thing I love about the Apostles’ Creed is it’s rhythmic value. It comes immediately after the daily scripture readings. And those readings change every day, based on the lectionary. Sometimes the readings inspire, encourage, or challenge me. Sometimes they don’t. On those days when the readings don’t have an impact on me (due to my own wandering of mind), the Creed is always there to get me back “on the beat” so to speak. The rhythm of the Office resumes.

The Apostles’ Creed is also, in my opinion, much easier to say than the Nicene Creed. The phrases are more succinct and flow off the tongue in a more rhythmic way. The last part of the Creed exemplifies this rhythmic language:

I believe in the Holy Spirit,

The holy catholic Church,

The communion of saints,

The forgiveness of sins

The resurrection of the body,

And the life everlasting. Amen.

 Along with the obvious doctrinal value, the poetic value cannot be overlooked. By the time the “Amen” comes at the end, I always feel like I am grounded in a rhythm that is ancient, deep, and penetrating. The Apostles’ Creed is alive and well. And for that I am grateful.

Pax,

Richard+

The ancient Church – among many things – chose to mark time with its own calendar. The church calendar marked the seasons, feasts, and fasts of the church. It also set aside certain days to honor the saints of the Church. This marking of time (days and seasons) set the rhythm of the year for Christians. And it was followed faithfully.

St. Benedict of Nursia (480-540 BC) is considered by most to be the Father of Western Christian monasticism. He created the Rule for his monastic communities, and – among many things – the Rule established a rhythm for marking time. Within the larger context of the Christian calendar, Benedict established a daily calendar for his monastic communities. This daily calendar consisted of communal prayer seven times a day, which centered on reading/chanting selections from the Psalter, prescribed reading(s) from scripture, and prayers of the Church (i.e. the Lord’s Prayer and other recognized prayers of the Church).

When Thomas Cranmer compiled the Book of Common Prayer for the Church in England during the English Reformation (16th Century), he chose to model it after the ancient Christian model of keeping yearly time and the Benedictine pattern of keeping daily time. Cranmer reduced the sevenfold pattern of daily prayer to two times – Morning and Evening Prayer.

The 1979 Book of Common Prayer expanded the pattern of Morning and Evening Prayer to include Noonday Prayer and Compline services. So with four set times to pray each day, we are moving closer not further to St. Benedict’s sevenfold office!

St. Benedict, Thomas Cranmer, and the compilers of the 1979 BCP all recognized that the rhythm of marking time is not only important, it is essential to maintaining  consistent, healthy, and grounded Christian discipleship.

One of the main challenges of parish life is keeping the discipline of marking time -daily and seasonally. The secular calendar dominates our culture and our lives today. Work, school, extra-curricular activities, and the like rule the day. Sadly, we in the church oftentimes find ourselves setting the church’s rhythm of timekeeping based on the secular rhythms that are pounding away.

I encourage those of you who live here in Santa Rosa Beach to stop in at Christ the King during the week and pray the Daily Office with me. The week of November 11, we will have Morning Prayer on Tuesday-Friday at 9:30 and Evening Prayer on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday at 4:30. On Wednesdays, we have our Celebrate the Saints service at 4:30 (Holy Eucharist w/ Unction).

If you are unable to join us in person, go to www.missionstclare.com and pray with us (and Christians all over the world).

Pax,
Richard+

One of the most profound nuggets of wisdom I received from a mentor when I was in the discernment process for Holy Orders was when he helped me realize that I didn’t have to give up the “drummer” part of my identity to become a priest. He said that I might be wise to use my drumming as something to build upon as I crafted my metaphors for ministry.

I’ve pondered the idea of starting a blog for a few years now. Part of it is this pressure I feel to to have something profound to say about a variety of things on a regular basis. After all, isn’t that what religious leaders are supposed to do?

Yet I always stalled, and the more blog posts I read from other religious leaders, the less inclined I felt to have my own. It’s not that I don’t like what they have to say. It’s usually quite the opposite. I oftentimes come away thinking, “I couldn’t have said it better.”

But when I began praying the Daily Office (Morning and Evening Prayer) in the sanctuary at Christ the King Episcopal Church at the same time of day every day (as opposed to sometimes at home, sometimes in my study, sometimes in the church, or even not at all), something shifted in my spiritual life. It was subtle, yet significant.

I found the rhythm. Notice I said “the” rhythm as opposed to “my” rhythm. Because rhythm is always communal – when you are “locked in” to the rhythm, it is not your rhythm. It derives from something – or Someone – else. In the Christian tradition, that Someone else is the Holy Spirt.

By praying (and oftentimes chanting) the Daily Office at the same place, the same time – even  the same seat – I have been able to establish a “holy rhythm” to my day. It has been liberating in many ways. One way has been that I STOP what I am working on in my study and walk over to the sanctuary to pray. Even if I have to stop right smack dab in the middle of an email, task, or project.

I also schedule my appointments around the Daily Office. I used to say “yes” to just about any meeting or appointment at any time. I made myself infinitely available. Now, I oftentimes invite the person to join me in praying the Office and meeting with me before or after. Now, my task list no longer sets the rhythm of the day. The Daily Office sets the rhythm of the day. And for the first time since I have been the rector of a church, I have begun to feel like I am finding the rhythm of this joyous and wonderful calling.

At Christ the King, our sanctuary is open for prayer during regular weekday business hours, and you are always welcome to stop in for prayer or meditation. For the week of November 11, the church office will be closed on Monday, November 12th for Veterans’ Day. We will have Morning Prayer in the church on Tuesday-Friday at 9:30am and Evening Prayer in the church on Tuesday Thursday, and Friday at 4:30pm. On Wednesday, we have our Celebrate the Saints service (Holy Eucharist w/ prayers for healing).

If you would like to experiment with praying the Daily Office on your own, visit www. missionstclare.com or attend one of the upcoming instructional classes on praying the daily Office at Christ the King.