by Rev. Jimmy Pickett Today’s Teaching Sermon will focus on the end. Don’t worry, not the end of all things, but the end of the liturgy, or more accurately, how the Dismissal is an integral part of our life of faith and witness in the world. The Dismissal is not like the school bell that calls us to recess nor does it dismiss us from class or excuse us from work, it is the hinge point between our worship and our witness. As Episcopalians, one of the member branches of the Anglican Communion, we are the inheritors of a particular way of living our faith out in the world. There is a branch of Practical Theology known as Anglican Social Ethics. At its core, this particular kind of witness is marked by a constantly evolving tension, at best a life giving tension, between Scripture, Tradition, and Reason. As Fr. Richard Meux Benson, founder of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist, said “the necessary thing for us is to set about old things in new ways”. I wish I could give you an easy checklist of to-do’s to make for a simple and easy Anglican Social Ethic, but our tradition is so situational that each of us needs to come up with our own list based on the situation we find ourselves in. Our list of personal and corporate prayers, practices, study, rest, and work to be done is based on particular life circumstances and the particular moral questions at hand. Scripture, Tradition, and Reason (lived experience), are the collective markers that can help point us toward the right decisions and actions. Again, there is this tension between the old and the new, the particular and the general, the personal and the communal. We lean on Scripture to learn how God and humanity interact and respond to each other. My Hebrew Scripture professor in seminary, Dr. Judy Fentress-Williams, once called Scripture a love story between the Human and the Divine. We lean on the Tradition we have inherited in our worship. The words may change from generation to generation, from community to community, but the common Ordo, or shape, of the Liturgy remains. The deep and ancient rhythm of worship - of gathering together, reading and responding to the Living Word in Scripture, praying for the needs of the world (and our own needs), confession, forgiveness, peace, the offering of our gifts, the taking, blessing, breaking, and giving of the Bread of Life, and being sent out - shapes us and points us to the dream God has for us. We lean on Reason and experience to make sense of our time and place as we share this life together with our neighbors. As Anglicans, we gather around Book, and Font, and Altar to be nourished by the Ancient and the Holy in order to go out to learn with, abide with, and break bread with whoever we meet. I’ll give you a couple of examples of what this can look like on the ground and then share my experience and then I’ll invite you to reflect on how you will go out into the world with the commissioning of the Dismissal. Dr. Esther Mombo, in her article “Doing Theology from the Perspective of the Circle of Concerned African Women Theologians”, describes her experience. Dr. Mombo is a Kenyan Anglican, Theologian, and Professor at St. Paul’s University in Limuru, Kenya and she is a member of a community known as The Circle of Concerned African Women Theologians. The Circle is an eccumenical and interreligious gathering of grassroots theologians from a diverse variety of socio-economic and cultural backrounds who are committed to living life together while critically engaging with society. They do this work by studying Scripture and culture, learning from each other in a pluralistic religious environment, focusing on formation for ministry and theological education, and listening to the stories of women in order to “do theology”. The Circle looks at structures of society and questions if they are in line with the love of God and neighbor. These questions have led to actions and social reform rooted in the continual revelation of God’s work of reconciliation. Another example: Dr. Timothy Sedgwick in his article, “The Anglican Exemplary Tradition”, explains the distinct nature of Anglican Social Ethics. The Exemplary Tradition is a way of living out a practical piety where Jesus is our great exemplar, calling us to model our lives around acts of worship and hospitality. For Dr. Sedgwick, social ethics is not just a thought experiment in a classroom or a sermon illustration, but a practical set of practices for living the Christian Life that holds a Sacramental vision for the relationship between church and society. “The final end of the love of God and neighbor is given in specific intentions embodied in particular actions such as eating and drinking, care for those in need, and prayer and worship”. Now for my own experience. A year ago, when I was in my last semester at Virginia Theological Seminary, one of my professors brought a classmate and I to Nashotah House, another Episcopal Seminary out in Wisconsin for a weekend of prayer, fellowship, and conversations. VTS and Nashotah are pretty much on the opposite ends of the theological and political spectrum from each other. While there were many differences in thought, there was fruitful conversation born out of common respect, common worship, and the sharing of meals and stories. This kind of cross political and cross theological conversation helped me to dig deeper into my own call and vocation- literally dig- of being both farmer and priest. When I was about 12 years old, I began to serve as an acolyte and week after week I would stand next to the Altar. I was transfixed on the Bread that was being lifted, and broken, and shared in blessing. My theological imagination was sparked and I could never see food the same way again. Being nourished by the Body of Christ to be the Body of Christ sent me to go study Sustainable Agriculture in college where I said yes to God’s call on my life while I stood in a field of onions with community members growing food for local food pantries. And here we are now. You've heard the basic structure of Anglican Social Ethics and listened to three stories of how we can live into the tradition we have inherited. Now what is God calling you to do with your Baptism? How is God calling you out the door to be the Body of Christ? How will you respond to the commissioning of the Dismissal? How will you come back next week, changed? Amen.
0 Comments
By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector Today’s teaching sermon is focused on the way we pray with our bodies during worship. This is sometimes playfully referred to as Episcopal Aerobics. We will explore some frequently asked questions, such as: How, when, and why do we…sit, stand, and kneel? …make the sign of the cross? … bow? And what exactly is genuflecting? As we explore this topic, I want to invite us to keep three things in mind. First and foremost, any and all body prayers are meant to enhance our worship experience; to help draw us closer to the Sacred. If any of it is getting in the way, distracting us from God, then it may be time to set down that practice. Bad knees? Confused about how to make the sign of the cross? Maybe those particular body prayers or gestures are not the ones for you. On the other hand, if those gestures help draw you closer to God - please continue. The second piece to bear in mind is there are ever so many personal gestures of devotion, and they have a wide variety of symbolic meanings.* If you ask any two people what a particular gesture signifies, you are likely to hear three or four different explanations. What matters is that these gestures are meant to make worship more meaningful for the worshiper. They are a way of remembering and drawing closer to the Sacred. There is a shadowside to our rich tradition of body prayers. Some of us were taught these are ‘rules’ to be followed with an unspoken ‘or else’. As a young person, I served as an acolyte at an Anglo-Catholic Episcopal parish that regularly used incense, sanctus bells, and a whole lot of body prayers. Carl, a beloved surrogate grandfather figure, served as our church’s Acolyte Master (yes, this was a real title, that a real church gave a real person.) I still poignantly remember one Sunday when the youth acolytes met with Carl, and he was chewing us out. While I can’t imagine he actually yelled at us, that was the general tone and volume. In his eyes, we were sloppy. We didn’t take tight corners, we didn’t bow precisely, we lit the candles in the wrong order, we did not stand or kneel at the right times, and so on. I remember going home crying. While I didn’t understand it at the time, I can now see that for Carl, these rituals were important. For him, they were a way of praising and honoring the Sacred. Yet his insistence that this was the way things had to be left me feeling as though I was somehow failing at following God the ‘right way’. Yet there is no “right” way to pray with our bodies in worship. Instead, it’s personal preference. I was a bit slow to realize this, but it turns out Jesus of Nazareth did not leave the disciples a handbook about how to pray with our bodies. Rather, these gestures of personal devotion are rituals that have evolved for followers of the Way of Love over the years. All this is to say, do what is helpful, but do not worry in the least about the rest. Lastly, as Anglicans we know that the way we pray shapes what we believe. The words we pray, the songs we sing, the way we move our bodies - all of it communicates to one another, the world, and God what we know to be true. As we stay awake in our faith, we will see the Holy Spirit at work, and She will expand our theology and understanding of God and God’s world. This is why over the last few years we have incorporated more inclusive and expansive language for God in our liturgies, paying special attention to our call to tend to God’s creation and engage in the ongoing work of racial reconciliation. How we pray with our bodies says something about what we believe to be true, and from time to time, we need to reflect on our practices. We can ask ourselves: … What does this body prayer proclaim about the story of God? … about God’s relationship to the human family or creation? … Does this body prayer still reflect my beliefs? … Or has this gesture lost its meaning? There can also be some cognitive dissonance. Sometimes our muscle memory wins the day, and we keep on praying with our body in ways that no longer reflect our beliefs, but might reflect a ritual we once found meaningful, a bit of comfort food for our souls. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this, but it’s important to be aware of. Bearing all that in mind, here is a bit about the how, when, and why of some of the body prayers folks use in our tradition. This is not an exhaustive list, so if you see someone doing something that I don’t talk about, I would encourage you to politely inquire what that gesture means to them. Sit, Stand, Kneel We sit when we want to listen and reflect, such as during the lessons and sermon. We stand to praise God. We kneel to express our penitence, supplication, and humility. In the early Church, the entire congregation joined the priest in standing in the orans position, which is when we stand with our arms raised and extended like the letter Y, with our palms up. As the Church evolved over the centuries, more attention was focused on personal penitence, and as such, kneeling became customary in many aspects of worship. Traditionally, folks often kneel for the general confession and absolution, during parts of the Great Thanksgiving, the post communion prayer, and to receive the blessing. Yet in more recent liturgical reform, we have returned to the early Church’s practice of standing. This shifted the focus of the eucharist from personal penitence of individuals to a celebration in community. ** My former bishop in the Diocese of Maine, Stephen Lane, has been known to say, “Stop Kneeling! We’re a resurrected people!” Ultimately though, the prayer book invites us to stand or kneel—what really matters is to hold the posture that helps you draw closer to God and know that both standing and kneeling are always welcomed. The Sign of the Cross The practice of making the sign of the cross on one’s forehead dates back to the second century, and is a form of personal piety. Cyril of Jerusalem, a theologian of the early Church, wrote about the sign of the cross in the third century. He wrote: “Let us not then be ashamed to confess the Crucified. Be the Cross our seal made with boldness by our fingers on our brow, and on everything; over the bread we eat, and the cups we drink; in our comings in, and goings out; before our sleep, when we lie down and when we rise up; when we are in the way, and when we are still. Great is that preservative; it is without price, for the sake of the poor; without toil, for the sick; since also its grace is from God. It is the Sign of the faithful, and the dread of devils…”*** To make the sign of the cross, one touches their fingertips to their forehead, chest, left breast, and then right breast. Many of us also finish the sign of the cross by returning to our chest. In the Orthodox Church, you’ll see the cross be made from right to left. As we make the sign of the cross, we are praying with or without words, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” There are many times one might make the sign of the cross in our worship, such as when we proclaim God with us at the opening acclamation; at the end of the Nicene Creed; during the benedictus, when we sing, ‘blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord’; whenever a pray says ‘bless us’ such as during the eucharistic prayer; before receiving the eucharist; during the blessing, and so on. Some also make the sign when they enter or leave a church, and many other instances when it helps remind one of God’s presence in and among us. We also have another special version of a sign of the cross that is used before the gospel is proclaimed. One makes a small cross on their forehead, then their lips, and finally their heart. This gesture is a prayer asking for Christ to be with us in our thinking, speaking, and understanding. Bowing Bowing is an ancient act of reverence.**** Some bow at the name of Jesus at various times in worship. Some bow when the processional cross goes by or when they approach the altar. Still others will bow at the words of institution when the bread and wine are elevated. Others bow when the mystery of the incarnation is mentioned during the Creed. These are all acts of honoring God. Genuflecting Genuflecting is an alternative act of reverence that developed in the eleventh century. This involves briefly touching a knee to the floor, while keeping one’s upper body upright, and then returning to a standing position. I’m not going to demonstrate it as I have the knees of a former basketball player who dove for balls without abandon. Though I welcome live demonstrations at Coffee & Conversation. Turning our Bodies There are a few important times when we turn our bodies in worship. By tradition, the Gospel is read from the center of the congregation, so the word of God will be proclaimed with the people, not at them. Worshippers customarily stand and face the Gospel book to signify our heightened attention to this most important reading. If you have ever been to a Jewish worship service, you may have observed how closely our Gospel procession resembles the Jewish tradition of bearing the Torah scroll into the midst of the congregation. Similarly, some folks will turn their body in the direction of the recessional, as the procession leads the congregation back out into the world. The Peace Every week our service transitions from the liturgy of the word to the liturgy of the table with the Peace. The Peace is an ancient Christian practice where we share a sign of reconciliation, love, and renewed relationships in the Christian community by greeting one another “with a Holy Kiss” as it says in scripture. These days we tend to instead offer a handshake or nod our heads and smile. During the pandemic we shifted away from our practice of handshakes or hugging, and instead began to offer one another the Peace sign or a nod. While it is perfectly fine to return to handshake, I would invite us to do so with a sensitivity and awareness that sometimes folks do not want to hug or shake hands. Make it a habit to read people’s body language, and always ask before moving in for a hug or handshake. While there are more movements we could dive into, let us leave our Episcopal aerobics there for now. More than the how or why of any particular body prayer, what I hope we might take from this teaching sermon is that:
Amen. *https://www.saintsjamesandandrew.org/sermons/instructed-eucharist-part-i ** https://www.episcopalchurch.org/glossary/kneel/ *** https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/310113.htm **** Learn more: https://www.stjvny.org/the-body-language-of-worship
While this is an information heavy sermon, I hope it will enhance your experience of journeying through Holy Week.
Palm Sunday 3 / 4 The earliest recorded observance of Palm Sunday comes from the writing of a 4th century female pilgrim named Egeria (Ege·ria). She describes how Christians gathered near the Mount of Olives and would read the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The pilgrims would then form a procession and make their way across the hillside into Jerusalem, all while waving palm or olive branches. They sang psalms, and shouted, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’ This practice spread, and by the early 5th century it had reached Spain. By the 9th century, it was common to sing “All glory laud and honor”, as we did today. By the 12th century, the custom of blessing palms was incorporated. At least one version of the liturgy, included an “exorcism” of the flowers and leaves, before the priest would bless the branches and sprinkle them with holy water. It is worth noting, many churches have historically used local greenery or flowers. While we use palms, some year we may choose to wave pine branches or forsythia. With the advent of the Protestant Reformation, values shifted, and the blessing of palms and the procession were altogether eliminated. These elements were reincorporated into the liturgy in the 1928 Prayer Book. For much of the middle ages, the Palm Sunday procession included several stations where pilgrims stopped and prayed. Upon arrival at the church, the focus shifted entirely to the passion narrative. Over the course of the the week, pilgrims would hear all four versions: Matthew on Sunday, Mark on Tuesday, Luke on Wednesday, John on Friday. Over time, some churches stopped reading the Passion Gospel on Palm Sunday. Yet with the liturgical renewal and ecumenical movements of the 1960s and 70s, a three year lectionary, shared across denominations came into use. 6 This brought back the tradition of reading the Passion Gospel, and the 1979 Prayer Book renamed the day - The Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday. Some churches, like ours, chose to only read the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, saving the passion narrative for Good Friday. This is to encourage worshipers to be present to one piece of the story at a time, as we make our journey through holy week. Holy Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday 3 It is customary to have a simple service of Holy Eucharist on these days. While we no longer read all four passion narratives throughout the week, the assigned readings highlight different events from the last week of Jesus’ life. On Holy Monday is the anointing of Jesus at Bethany; on Holy Tuesday, Jesus predicts his death; on Holy Wednesday, Jesus predicts his betrayal from Judas. In 2019, here at James and Andrew, we began to experiment with offering different liturgies to help prepare us for the Triduum (trid·yoo·uhm). Triduum is a word taken from the Latin root for three days, referring to the three final days of Holy Week: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Great Vigil of Easter. Our hope is these new liturgies will invite us to clear our hearts, souls, and minds in order to be fully present to God. To that end we added a Taize service on Holy Monday; a meditative service with readings, silent reflection, and repetitive sung refrains. This type of service has a way of forcing us to embrace non-doing; and the result is often a quieting of our internal noise. With the noise softened, we are often clearer on what burdens and distractions we have been carrying that we need to entrust to God. To that end, on Holy Tuesday, we offer a healing service with readings, prayers, and the option to share your burdens with a pastoral leader and be prayed for. Finally, on Holy Wednesday, are simple bedtime prayers, better known as Compline. The hope is by this point in the week, we are feeling clearer, lighter, and ready to be fully present to God as a community in these final days of Holy Week. The tradition of walking through Holy Week, especially the Triduum, connects us to Christians across time, cultures, and denominations. Together, we are one body of Christ. Maundy Thursday 3 / 4 The word ‘maundy’ comes from the Latin word for commandment. The liturgy helps us to recall Jesus’ commandment to ‘do this in remembrance of me’ at the institution of the Last Supper, and the command to ‘love one another as Christ loved us’ in the ceremony of the footwashing. The first docmented celebration of Maundy Thursday comes from the 4th century pilgrim, Egeria (Ege·ria). Pilgrims would gather at important religious sites from the life of Jesus, many of which had churches built on them. They read scripture, prayed, and sang hymns as they moved from the site of the cross; to the tomb; to the cave where Jesus taught during his final week in Jerusalem; to the top of the Mount of Olives; to Gethsemane; and back to the site of the cross. The services lasted well over fifteen hours, ending shortly after daybreak. So, if you think this sermon or our services are too long, know we could always make them longer! Since the early 4th century, the service was known as ‘The Supper of the Lord’, and has included Paul’s account of the institution of the Eucharist, and John’s account of the footwashing. By the early 7th century, the day became known as Maundy Thursday, and the liturgy began to include a ceremonial footwashing. At that time abbots would wash the feet of the monks in their order, and kings would wash the feet of peasants; a practice that went on for centuries. According to Marion Hatchett, “...it is recorded that in 1560 Queen Elizabeth I ‘kept her maundy’ [ie kept her commandment] in the great hall at Westminister by washing the feet of twenty poor women.” 4 While the tradition of the footwashing has been around for centuries, it did not appear in our prayer book until the 1979 edition. There are different practices around the ceremony of the footwashing. In some places a specific number of people will have their feet washed, or the clergy will wash everyone’s feet. In other places, such as here at James and Andrew, we are all invited to wash feet and have our feet washed. This models a mutual servanthood where we are all served and we are all servants. This sometimes makes people uncomfortable, and I believe it is a good kind of uncomfortable; the kind we experience when we dare to be vulnerable with one another, which deepens our relationship with God and our community. Our diocese also has the tradition of offering anointing - proclaiming the other half of the great truth we declare on Ash Wednesday. There we proclaim, ‘Remember that you are dust, and to that dust you are returned.’ Now we proclaim, ‘Remember that you are Love, and to that Love you are returned.’ It is worth noting that some churches, like ours, will share communion for the last time until the Great Vigil of Easter, consuming what remains of the reserve sacrament. Other churches will consecrate extra bread and wine so that on Good Friday they can have holy communion from the reserve sacrament. When the reserve is kept for Good Friday, there is often an Altar of Repose, where people will take turns staying awake all night, keeping vigil by the reserve, echoing the disciples at Gethsemane. Another tradition that dates back to the 7th century, yet still does not appear in our prayer book, is the stripping of the altar followed by the priest washing the altar in preparation for Good Friday. The services ends with the 22 Psalm, and then the ministers and congregation depart in silence, as a reminder of the solemnity of Good Friday. Good Friday 3 / 4 Scholars disagree on the meaning of the name ‘Good Friday’. Some believe it originates from a word meant for pious or holy living, so the day might be known as ‘Holy Friday’. Others believe ‘Good’ is a corruption of ‘God’, meaning God’s Friday. Still others believe it is ‘good’ as in positive, because of the transformative good that happens through the cross. The early Church, commemorated both the death and resurrection of Jesus in a single service; yet by the 4th century it had evolved into two separate observances. The pilgrim Egeria (Ege·ria) described Good Friday in great detail. Pilgrims gathered from 8am until noon to venerate the wood of the csross that Jesus was believed to have died on, often referred to as the ‘true cross’. Then at noon, there was a service with psalms, readings, hymns, and prayers which lasted until 3pm; and then John’s passion narrative was read. Following all this was an optional vigil at the tomb that lasted through the night. As pieces of the ‘true cross’ were acquired by other communities, similar practices of venerating the cross, prayer, and the reading of the passion narrative spread. Eventually the practice spread beyond communities with pieces of the ‘true cross’. While venerating the cross is optional in our current prayer book, here at James and Andrew, we continue to offer the opportunity, primarily because some find the practice very meaningful. We have shifted the language from venerating the cross, to reflecting on the cross, with the option to light a candle as a way of honoring Christ. By the middle ages, it became customary for the ministers to enter and exit in silence. Silence was also included in the Solemn Collects, where we pray for people everywhere; our sins and redemption; for the church throughout the world; for all nations; creation; and all those who suffer. Around this time, the Reproaches appeared in the liturgy. This hymn like litany was a dialogue between God sorrowing over the sins and destructiveness of humanity, and God’s people asking for mercy. 7. It is worth noting the Reproaches are no longer a part of the Good Friday liturgy. For much of Christian history, the Reproaches, along with the Solemn Collects, and portions of John’s passion narrative had anti-semitic content, which blamed those practicing Judaism for the death of Christ. 7. The Christian tradition still has a long way to go to reconcile the damage we have caused through our anti-semitic liturgy and preaching over the centuries. Bishop Doug recently approved modifications the wider church is exploring implementing to the Good Friday liturgy, and Molly has written about it in this coming week’s Newsletter. I encourage you to read about these changes there, or in the Good Friday leaflet. Similarly complicated, is how Christianity has interpreted the meaning of the cross over the centuries. If you are interested in exploring the meaning of the cross, I would encourage you to read the sermons listed in your leaflet, accessible on our website. 8 Holy Saturday 3 / 4 In the early Church, when the commemoration of Jesus’ death and resurrection were a singular event instead of two, Christians would fast for the two days prior. If you were pregnant or had health complications you could skip Friday, but all were expected to fast on the Saturday before Easter. With time, some communities began to gather for a simple service of the word. Throughout the Church’s history, there has been universal agreement that communion is not to be celebrated on Holy Saturday, as we prepare for Easter. In our current prayer book, there are provisions made for a collect, a few readings, and an anthem from the burial liturgy. The mood is quiet and still, reflecting an old tradition that required silence all day. We do not offer a Holy Saturday service, nor is fasting still required, but folks are encouraged to engage in reflection as a way of preparing for the resurrection. The Great Vigil of Easter 3 / 4 It is worth noting that in almost every language except English, the word for the Jewish Passover and Christian Easter is one and the same - pascha. For many years this liturgy was referred to as the Christian Passover or Paschal Vigil. That said, we know that Christianity evolved into its own religion, and out of respect for the distinct Jewish tradition of Passover, let’s refer to this liturgy as the Great Vigil of Easter, as our current prayer book does. This liturgy is one of the most ancient that we have beyond the Holy Eucharist. It is believed that Jesus’ disciples may have practiced a version of this liturgy, and we know it can be documented as early as the 2nd century. This service is considered one of the four most appropriate times in the church year for a baptism to take place. While we do not usually have a baptism scheduled, the baptismal themes remain, as we renew our baptismal covenant. From the early Church onward, it was customary to keep vigil over night, listening to readings and instructions. At the first cockcrow, the baptismal water would be blessed, and a prayer of thanksgiving said over the chrism oil and an oil the church once used for exorcisms. The baptismal candidates would then renounce Satan and all evil, and then would be anointed with the exorcism oil. As our understanding of mental and physical health has evolved, the need for the exorcism oil fell out of practice, but to this day, we still renounce evil prior to our baptism. The candidates would then be baptized, they would affirm a profession of the faith that would become the Apostles’ Creed, and when they emerged from the water, they were anointed with the chrism oil used at baptism. By the 5th century, it became common for baptismal candidates to make a threefold renunciation of evil, and a threefold confession of faith.Each of these elements continues to be an important part of the baptismal liturgy. By the 5th century, this the Great Vigil began with a new fire. The paschal candle would be lit and processed into the church. We believe the paschal candle was celtic in origin, brought to us by St. Patrick. The liturgy would continue with the chanting of the Exsultet, an ancient hymn that proclaims God’s love overcoming all else. This was followed by a series of four to twelve readings from the Hebrew Scriptures, each reading followed by psalms, canticles, and prayers. This practice continues to this day, with many of the readings being the same. They include stories of creation, the flood, the exodus, the valley of the dry bones, and so forth. As pressure grew to baptize infants, the Great Vigil was no longer a pragmatic time for baptisms, and the liturgy began to lose some of its importance. By the time of the Protestant Reformation and the creation of the 1549 Prayer Book, the liturgy was abandoned altogether, and baptismal themes were shifted to Easter Day. The rite was not fully recovered in our prayer book until the current edition. I imagine this means many longtime Episcopalians who grew up with the 1928 Prayer Book, grew up without the Great Vigil. I grew up with the 1979 Prayer Book in a community taught that it was the singular most important liturgy in the Church year. Easter Sunday 3 / 4 Because every Sunday is a type of little Easter, this liturgy is the most familiar to us. It is a celebration of the resurrection and God’s dream for this world. We keep the paschal candle in front of the church for all fifty days of Easter, as a reminder that the joy of Easter expands through all fifty days of the season, lasting through the Day of Pentecost. Citations: 1 Daily Prayer for All Seasons, pgs 81, 101 2 1979 Book of Common Prayer, pg 272 3 Walk in Love: Episcopal Beliefs & Practices by Scott Gunn and Melody WIlson Shobe, pgs 139-152 4 Commentary on the American Prayer Book by Marion J. Hatchett, pgs 223-250 5 1928 Book of Common Prayer 6 See David Lose’s Palm/Passion Sunday A and The United Methodist Church’s Why Palm/Passion Sunday and Not Just Palm Sunday? 7 See the United Church of Christ’s Good Friday Reproarches - Morley 8. See previous mentioned sermons below: Palm Sunday Sermons April 2021 - Rev. Heather Blais - What does God need from us right now? April 2020 - Rev. Dr. Molly Scherm - Palm Sunday 2020 Maundy Thursday Sermons April 2022 - Rev. Dr. Molly Scherm - Maundy Thursday April 2021 - Rev. Heather Blais - Do this in remembrance of me Good Friday Sermons April 2022 - Rev. Heather Blais - Good Friday April 2021 - Rev. Dr. Molly Scherm - Good Friday
I need to start with some language commentary. You may have noticed that in our announcements about this sermon it was titled “Hebrew Scriptures”, with “Old Testament” following in parentheses. Our bulletin announcement, further, referred to the “First Testament”. What is this all about? Do these labels matter? Of course they do.
I don’t use the term “Old Testament”. I am not comfortable with its implications and connotations. The term “testament” comes from the Latin testamentum, which, in Latin, comes from the Hebrew word for “covenant”. The Church has traditionally held that God made the first covenant with Israel through Moses, and fulfilled (or some would say ) replaced that covenant in Jesus. This can easily lead to a way of thinking about Hebrew Scriptures as outdated, “Old”, less relevant because they have been superceded by the “New” covenant. I simply choose not to use language that might imply this. For me, “Hebrew Scriptures”, or even “First Covenant” are more helpful in conveying respect not only for this collection of texts, but also for the living religion of Judaism, for which these books are not old, but remain sacred in revealing the truth of humankind’s relationship with God. So back to the topic at hand! The word Bible comes from the Greek ta biblia, which means “the books”. It’s a plural noun. The Bible, both Hebrew Scriptures and the Christian scriptures of the New Testament, are more like a library than a book. And they’re an incredibly diverse library. The books of the Hebrew Scriptures also include an incredibly wide range of kinds of writing: they include narrative, poetry, prayer, law codes, mythological tales, prophecy, short stories, and more. The books of the Hebrew Bible were recorded – a number of them taking written form after existing for generations in oral tradition – over the course of more than a thousand years. (The books of the New Testament, by contrast, were composed within a span of less than a hundred years!) What is included in the Hebrew Scriptures, and how it is organized, is an awfully complicated matter. Understanding the fine print on the differences that exist between religious traditions isn’t important, but knowing THAT the differences exist IS important . Here’s an example. Along with other Protestant denominations, our Bibles in the Anglican tradition follow the Jewish practice of including only those books written in Hebrew (although a couple of them include brief passages in Aramaic). Roman Catholic Bibles also include, in their Old Testament, six more books that were written in Greek. We call these “the Apocrypha”. Another example: You may hear that we have 40 books in Hebrew Scriptures but that there are 24 in a Hebrew Bible: the material is the same, but we divide into separate books a number of writings that Jewish Bibles treat as one as. This minutia is interesting for academics, but really doesn’t matter in a faith context. What matters is that the writings of the Hebrew Scriptures express the many ways in which the people of Israel sought to capture and articulate what they understood about the God – the God with whom they were (and continue to be) in relationship. They did so through symbols and stories, through myths and memories whose purpose was to instruct and inspire and unify the Community of Israel. Over the course of more than a thousand year of history that included much more struggle and hardship than it did peace and prosperity, Israel sought to maintain faith and sustain hope; they failed at living into their covenants with God as least as often as they succeeded. The writings of Hebrew Scriptures are the written expression of that dramatic and complex story. And it is terribly important to remember that Jesus was born into that story and lived, fully committed to the wisdom and the faith of the Hebrew Scriptures. So - are you ready for a whirlwind tour? Probably the best way to survey the contents of the Hebrew Scriptures is look at the books’ contents as they reflect the story of the nation of Israel. The first written materials in the Hebrew Bible probably didn’t take written form before Israel was united as a monarchy under King David around 1000 BCE. At that time the priests and scribes began recording ancestral stories that had been passed along orally within the community for about two centuries. The final form of the first biblical books didn’t exist until centuries later, but the first building blocks were taking shape under David. The first five books of Hebrew Scriptures are a set, identified as the Five Books of Moses or, for Jews, the Torah (which means “Teaching” or “Instruction”). The first book, Genesis, explains beginnings, including the creation of the world (through two very different stories) and the primordial myths of the Flood and the Tower of Babel. The bulk of the book provides the narrative of God’s original outreach and covenant with the ancestors of the Jewish people. In the stories of Genesis, Abraham and Sarah and their offspring had quite a series of adventures, knew some moments of great faith and made at least as many bad decisions, but nonetheless survived their trials and tribulations with God’s help. Exodus, Genesis’ sequel, picks up with the people of Israel thrust into slavery in Egypt and it narrates the call of Moses and his actions (with siblings Aaron and Miriam and, of course God’s frequent intervention) in leading the community out of Egypt, through the wilderness, and to Mount Sinai where Moses received, from God, the Law, the full terms of the Covenant between God and the people. The rest of the Five Books of Moses – Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy – lay out in great detail the regulations that govern the life and practices for God’s people (including instructions for religious and domestic obligations of the community), as well as the further travels and trials of the people before their entry into the Promised Land, and Moses’ farewell addresses before his death. The second section of Hebrew Scriptures contains historical narrative. The set begins with the books of Joshua and Judges, which together cover the conquest and division of Canaan and the years during which Israel functioned as a Tribal Confederacy before the establishment of the Hebrew Monarchy. These books tell about generations of repeated bloody conflicts with neighboring groups, followed by deliverance through God’s intervention, usually through the raising up of heroic leaders such as Deborah and Samson. After the tribal period, Israel eventually established a monarchy during which, while the nation was not without continuing challenges and ongoing threats from other nations, there was at least a period of relatively greater peace and prosperity. The books of 1 and 2 Samuel recount the (largely troubled) reign of King Saul (accompanied by the prophet Samuel) and the ascendancy and early triumphs of King David, followed by his downfall as a result of his own wrongdoing. 1 and 2 Kings continue the saga, covering the succession of Solomon, David’s son, to the throne, and the significant accomplishments of his reign., including, the construction of the First Temple in Jerusalem. These historical books continue and elaborate on a theme that began in the stories of Israel’s wilderness wanderings both before and after establishment of the Law at Mount Sinai. The theme is that of a cycle that the storytellers report that Israel lived out over and over again: it consisted of unfaithfulness – either because of the people’s anxiety and doubt, or by the people falling away from the covenant with God through inattention or selfishness – followed by hardship, followed by deliverance by God, resulting in renewed faith and commitment, after a period of which they would again fall away into unfaithfulness. The most significant hardships in Israel’s story began as Solomon’s reign ended and the united nation split into two. The truth of “United we stand, divided we fall” was borne out for the people of Israel over the course of the 350 or so years while they lived as two separate states, Israel in the North and Judah in the south, under a series of kings. During this time, recounted in 1 and 2 Kings, the people repeatedly continued to fall away from their faithfulness to the Law, including turning to worship of other gods, and their conflicts with surrounding nations were escalating. As the leaders and people turned from the covenant, prophets arose, repeatedly calling the people to return, as we remember in our eucharistic prayers. Elijah and Elisha’s stories are told in great detail in 2 Kings. Despite the prophets’ entreaties, Israel was brutally conquered by the Assyrians in 722 BCE. (The descendants of the northern kingdom, you’ll remember, are the Samaritans who feature repeatedly in the New Testament.) Less than 150 years later, in 586, the Kingdom of Judah fell to the Babylonians with the conquest of Jerusalem. When Jerusalem fell, the leadership and priestly classes of the Hebrew people were taken prisoner and forced into exile in Babylon, a time remembered painfully in Psalm 137: By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion. The period of monarchy from David through the divided kingdom and Exile is summarized and recounted, again, in the books of 1 and 2 Chronicles. These are the last of the biblical texts specifically devoted to the community’s history, though the brief books of Ezrah and Nehemiah, which follow Chronicles, provide some details of the eventual restoration of the Jewish people to Jerusalem the surrounding lands of Judah. After the restoration, after the Babylonian Exile, the people of Israel were never again self-governed (until modern times). Assyrian and Babylonian rule were followed by the Persians, and later, the Hellenists and the Roman Empire. Having told the story of the political fortunes and misfortunes of the people of Israel in the historic books, the rest of the Hebrew Scriptures include a variety of writings. In the order in which they appear:
The final collection of books in the Hebrew Scriptures are the teachings of the prophets, interrupted by three other brief texts:
In this last section of Hebrew Scriptures we hear from the prophets, including the major prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, and “the twelve” minor prophets. They preached before and during the Exile, interpreting to the people of Israel, often in God’s name and in God’s voice, the meaning of the events happening to the community, and foretelling what was to come. They pronounced bitter and searing condemnation of the people’s sins and abandonment of their responsibility to their covenant with God. They passionately declared God’s displeasure and God’s readiness to abandon the people to the suffering their transgressions deserved. The prophets did not leave condemnation and despair as the final word, however. They reiterated God’s love and reaffirmed God’s mercy, promising restoration for those who return to God’s covenant. The words and stories and images of these scriptures sustained the people of Israel through generations of turbulent history. They rescued the people from despair by providing a vision of a higher calling. They offered insight, direction, and hope, often doing so in absolutely gorgeous language. The Hebrew Scriptures are the foundation of our own faith. Let us cherish them and let us continue to “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest” all they have to offer. |
We are blessed to have a diversity of preaching voices in our parish. Our guild of preachers is a mixture of lay and clergy. We hope you enjoy the varied voices. Meet our Preachers
All
Archives
April 2024
|