Recently, I was listening to From All Points a podcast from Episcopal Cafe, specifically "Episode 8: The Prayer Book".
In this episode, the suggestion was made that we need a "pew edition" of the prayer book that takes out some of the lesser used elements. The service for the Ordination of a Bishop, it was suggested, would best be moved to The Book of Occasional Services since it is, quite literally, a very occasional service.
This did not sit well with me. But I couldn't really articulate why.
Luckily, I didn't have long to ruminate on it, because I've been reading Admirable Simplicity: Principles for Worship Planning in the Anglican Tradition by George Wayne Smith. Smith wrote this book in 1996 when he was an Episcopal priest. He was ordained a Bishop of the Diocese of Missouri in 2002.
As Smith so clearly articulates, the reason that we keep this service in the Book of Common Prayer has to do with the role of the prayer book in our belief as Anglicans (lex orandi lex credendi: "the law of prayer is the law of belief;" or, in the title of another book on Episcopal liturgy, "Praying Shapes Believing").
But for Anglicans the consensus achieved through common prayer does provide a center point not only for practice but for belief. Thus the Book of Common Prayer bears scrutiny for all aspects of Anglican believing. And so BCP 1979 includes, for example, the order for the ordination of a bishop, despite the fact that this service will be used about once every decade or two in a given diocese. It is even then a matter for diocesan worship, not parochial worship. But this infrequently used service tells us what Anglicans believe about bishops in a way no other resource can. The way faithful people worship when gathering as the church to ordain a bishop tells Anglicans what they believe about bishops on all occasions. And so any practical concerns about omitting a little-used service from the book in order to save on printing costs has to give way to the principle of lex orandi lex credendi.Smith, George Wayne. Admirable Simplicity: Principles for Worship Planning in the Anglican Tradition. Church Hymnal Corporation, 1996, p. 38.
Labels: Anglicanism, BCP, liturgy, ordination, Wayne Smith
Today is the Feast of Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria, 373.
There is an oft-overlooked bit by Athanasius on page 864 of the Book of Common Prayer:
Quicunque Vult
commonly called
The Creed of Saint Athanasius
Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary that he hold the Catholic Faith.
Which Faith except everyone do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish
everlastingly.
And the Catholic Faith is this: That we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity,
neither confounding the Persons, nor dividing the Substance.
For there is one Person of the Father, another of the Son, and another of the Holy Ghost.
But the Godhead of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, is all one, the Glory
equal, the Majesty co-eternal.
Such as the Father is, such is the Son, and such is the Holy Ghost.
The Father uncreate, the Son uncreate, and the Holy Ghost uncreate.
The Father incomprehensible, the Son incomprehensible, and the Holy Ghost
incomprehensible.
The Father eternal, the Son eternal, and the Holy Ghost eternal.
And yet they are not three eternals, but one eternal.
As also there are not three incomprehensibles, nor three uncreated, but one uncreated, and
one incomprehensible.
So likewise the Father is Almighty, the Son Almighty, and the Holy Ghost Almighty.
And yet they are not three Almighties, but one Almighty.
O Lord, who established your servant Athanasius, through wisdom, in your truth: Grant that we, perceiving the humanity and divinity of your Son Jesus Christ, may follow in his footsteps and ascend the way to eternal life, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Labels: BCP, Lesser Feasts and Fasts
The idea of Lessons and Carols really has its genesis with Christmas services at the end of the 19th century. Then in the early 20th century Eric Milner-White started the very famous Christmas service at King's College, Cambridge. And this annual service, more than any other, is what many people think of when they hear "Lessons and Carols".
But there's more to its origin than meets the eye.
Milner-White had become convinced "that the Church of England needed more imaginative worship", but I think it helps to remember the context in which he was working. At the centuries-old choral foundation of King's there was no lack of opportunity for worship. There was Choral Matins (Morning Prayer), Holy Communion, and Choral Evensong.
And Milner-White also sought "more imaginative worship" through new music. He used a friendly wager to entice Herbert Howells to write the Collegium Regale Morning Canticles (Te Deum & Jubilate). And if these pieces aren't "more imaginative" I don't know what qualifies.
But I think Milner-White saw something else that a few others (like Bishop Benson in Truro) did. The specific possibilities for liturgy suggested by the genre of music specific to the Advent-Christmas season.
Here the music (carols) must have suggested its own liturgy. Rather than music being the "hand-maid" of the liturgy, a dubious phrase one often hears in regard to Church Music, Milner-White saw it as the other way around. Here was a cleric who was perceptive enough to realize that the established liturgical forms didn't allow for this music speak well or speak fully.
At Matins or Evensong maybe you could do a carol or two, but carols are so short. You would have to do a number of them for them to really add up to something substantial. And in this case they would needed their own service. So Milner-White designed it.
Not just two or three lessons, but more. No need for a psalm or canticles. No need for much of anything, really, except hymns, lessons, and carols.
After inaugurating the Christmas Lessons and Carols service in 1918, Milner-White added an Advent Carol Service to King's liturgical life in 1934.
Most Advent Carol Services take place in the evening and are therefore often substitutes for Choral Evensong. But the traditional canticles at Evensong (the Magnificat and Nunc dimittis) also have value in a Carol Service.
One place to connect Evensong to Lessons and Carols is St. John's College, Cambridge, just a short boatride away from King's. St. John's began a tradition of an Advent Carol Service a couple decades after King's.
The first Advent Carol Service was held on 2 December 1956. From the outset it had been decided to make this an 'admission by ticket only' event, and close on 1100 people attended what has now become an annual service. Since 1981 it has been broadcast, and is now relayed to many radio stations in the United States and Canada, as well as to other countries throughout the world.Guest, George. (1998) A Guest at Cambridge. Brewster, Mass.: Paraclete Press. p. 28.
At the traditional carol services at St. John's the two Evensong canticles take pride of place toward the end: the Magnificat at the Advent Carol Service; the Nunc dimittis at the Epiphany Carol Service. There's a wonderful logic to this. (There is no Christmas Carol Service at St. John's because 1) the college is not in session 2) there's a pretty famous one just down the road.)
St. John's has served as an inspiration for St. Peter's, St. Louis in the past: the installation of a Mander organ at St. Peter's was inspired by the very successful Mander installation in that college chapel.
And the Advent Carol Service from St. John's is not exactly a well-kept secret. It has been broadcast annually on the BBC since the 1980s. It's order has been printed in at least one past issue of The Episcopal Musicians Handbook. And another order of service from St. John's has been used at St. Peter's in the past.
Here's an explanatory note from the former Dean of St. John's.
"Introduction to the Advent Carol Service"
by The Rev. Andrew MacIntosh, Dean of St. John's College
In the past quarter of the century, the colleges of Cambridge, and St. John's in particular, have developed special forms of service to mark the beginning of Advent; and these are widely called Advent Carol Services. Since Christmas falls in University vacation, there was a natural desire to anticipate Christmas by singing carols. At the same time, the instinct for good liturgy meant that we wanted to keep the specifically Advent themes of solemn preparation for the coming of Christ. In St. John's College, since 1956, these two elements have been combined to effect a successful liturgical experiment. This success derives, perhaps, from the tension between the two elements. Thus the form of the service is essentially linked to Advent. The Collects for the four Sundays in Advent suggest the main themes which are explored and illuminated in the scriptural lessons. The plainsong settings of the Advent Prose and "O" Antiphons, dating from the eighth century, express most poignantly in words from the prophesies of Isaiah man's deep yearning for salvation and redemption. The carols, in a joyful and earthy way, look forward to the mode of that redemption in the circumstances of the incarnation and the person of Jesus. Finally, the service reaches its climax in the words of the Christmas collect and in the singing of "Adeste Fideles.""
The service is rich. You can view this year's service booklet for yourself. You can also listen to this year's service for the next 26 days after this article's publication.
There's so much to love about this liturgy beyond the lessons and the music: the sentences; the versicles and responses at the head of each section (my favorite being "Prepare ye the way of the Lord / Make his paths straight."); the collects.
The service is in four sections:
- The Message of Advent
- The Word of God (which includes the wonderful passage from Luke of Jesus reading from Isaiah in the synagogue)
- The Prophetic Call (which features a hefty dose of John the Baptist)
- The Christ-Bearer (including Mary and her Magnificat)
But one thing that I chose not to incorporate at St. Peter's for our service is the seven O Antiphons. Don't get me wrong; I love the O Antiphons. But their inclusion in this already rich service seems like an "everything but the kitchen sink approach". (Besides, St. Peter's has already offered a simple service focusing on the O Antiphons this year).
The collects in the service provide a nice bridge to the historic collects found in the 1662 Book of Common Prayer.
The collect for section two, the Word of God, is the collect for the Second Sunday in Advent (note that in the 1662 book the preposition is different than it is in the 1979 book). This prayer finds a place in the 1979 book as the collect for Proper 28 (the Sunday closest to November 16).
Blessed Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that, by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Savior Jesus Christ; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
The collect for section three, which does not appear in the 1979 book at all, is specific to John the Baptist.
O Lord Jesu Christ, who at thy first coming didst send thy messenger to prepare thy way before thee: Grant that the ministers and stewards of thy mysteries may likewise so prepare and make ready thy way, by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, that at thy second coming to judge the world we may be found an acceptable people in thy sight, who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.
The collect for section four, at least in the present service, is not the collect for the Fourth Sunday in Advent, but can be traced to an Anglican Altar Services (1941) collect for the Feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary (August 15). Using a Marian collect here is congruent with the focus on Mary in the Gospel lessons for the Fourth Sunday of Advent in the Revised Common Lectionary.
Almighty and everlasting God, who didst stoop to raise our fallen race by the child-bearing of blessed Mary: Grant that we, who have seen thy glory manifested in our manhood [St. John's substitutes "flesh"], and thy love perfected in our weakness, may daily be renewed in thine image, and conformed to the likeness of thy Son; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.
Finally, a note about the music itself. It should be noted while the informal name of this service is the "Advent Carol Service", the title page actually reads "A Service for Advent with Carols". I believe that this name is deliberately chosen to not limit the music solely to "carols" but to allow for all kinds of liturgical music (including hymns and canticles, which were part of the original design).
As with the Christmas Lessons and Carols service at King's College, the Advent service at St. John's includes a heavy dose of new music, especially new music written for carol texts.
But with the doors thrown open to all types of music (assuming at least two carols, to stay true to the plural in the service's title) we see the full flowering of Lessons and Carols as one of the great liturgies of the Anglican church.
What started as music begetting it's own liturgy has now come full circle. This elegant liturgy is now inspiring new commissions and compositions.
I find Lessons and Carols so fascinating because the realm of creative possibilities within its fixed structure is so immense.
This is Church Music at it's finest: not as a hand-maid of the liturgy, but a full partner with it.
Of course there are always other Advent Carol Services to consider, too!
- New College, Oxford added 7 December 2016
- St. Thomas, New York
- Trinity College, Cambridge
Labels: Advent, Andrew MacIntosh, BCP, church music, Collect, Eric Milner-White, Guest, Howells, King's College (Cambridge), Lessons and Carols, St John's (Cambridge), St Peter's (St Louis), the Blessed Virgin Mary
I'll never forget the first time I sang the hymn tune SAN ROCCO. It was at a Choral Evensong sung by the choir of Hereford Cathedral in October 2002 at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in Cleveland, Ohio.
I believe that this service was just one of the regular Wednesday Evensongs still offered regularly at Trinity, Cleveland, which, while a bit smaller, bears a striking resemblance to Hereford.
I can't remember how full the building was, but I would wager it was a bit fuller than they typically get on a Wednesday night. On the other hand, it certainly wasn't full or even close to it, which was a real shame because this service was something.
At least, it was to me.
Trinity Cathedral
Cleveland, Ohio
At the time I was a junior in college and just a few weeks earlier had begun working in an Episcopal church. I was excited about going to this Evensong but I didn't really know what to expect. Had I even ever been to an Evensong at that point in my life? Probably not.
But I'd picked up a Prayer Book and, having done a bit of homework, I sort of knew what it was about.
This was also the first time that I had heard an English cathedral choir in person. I remember being surprised that at least one boy seemed to have forgotten his white surplice back in England. He was easy to spot in the procession because he came down the aisle in only his blue cassock (the cathedral in Hereford is officially "Cathedral Church of St. Mary the Virgin and St. Ethelbert the King"; churches named after the Blessed Virgin Mary typically wear blue, I would learn later). How embarrassing for him, I thought. Then I saw another chorister dressed the same way. And then another. And I remember thinking that this must mean something too, but what?
I was on the edge of my seat because everything was new that night. There was the newness of the Prayer Book, this American document that prescribed liturgy in the Episcopal Church, but was a direct descendent of a book of the same name from England. It was this English book that the Hereford Choir would know, so a close observation of the service might tell me more about the worship tradition in which I was now engaged.
I vaguely remember checking the lectionary in the back of the book to see if they had chosen the right lessons. I still do this today when I get distracted (though now only with the daily lectionary).
It was all so much to take in, and it was all so grand. And the singing was fabulous. The Psalm was beautifully chanted. The liturgy was seamlessly conducted and very dignified.
But the thing I remember the most clearly was the final hymn.
It was SAN ROCCO, and it was glorious.
Trinity, Cleveland is a bit unusual in that there is not a big organ up front the way you would expect to be. Rather, there is a great big Flentrop in the back. It's more the kind of organ that Bach would have known and less the kind of organ you expect to find as the main instrument in a large Episcopal church.
Flentrop was big presence in northeastern Ohio in the second half of the last century. A small Flentrop was installed in Christ Church, Oberlin in 1964. A three-manual Flentrop was installed in Warner Concert Hall in the Oberlin College Conservatory of Music just a short ways away in 1974. Trinity, Cleveland put in a similar instrument in 1977. (They also have a 14-stop Choir Organ that was installed in 1976).
If you enter from the liturgical West doors at Trinity, Cleveland, you walk under the lofted organ to enter the nave. In plain view is a tall metal spiral staircase that one must ascend to reach the organ.
And so it was at the end of this Evensong that whosever it was who had climbed the stairs and was accompanying the service cracked open the Hymnal 1982 and launched in with the introduction to SAN ROCCO. And – here I rely on my more than a dozen-year-old memory of this event, but I believe it to be credible – the introduction to this hymn was in D-flat.
The reason I feel somewhat confident in this assessment is for two reasons: 1) I was working on my pitch identification with great intensity back then. I would keep track of key areas and such whenever I attended a concert or recital (and would often notate them in my program to keep myself honest); and 2) it sounded a ever so slightly funky in the temperament on that Flentrop, which leads me to believe that it wasn't C Major.
If all this is correct it means that the experience I remember so vividly involved hymn 253: "Give us the wings of faith to rise", the words of Isaac Watts, and a splendid modern hymn tune by Derek Williams.
Earlier on this blog: A few years after I attended this service the words of this same hymn were included in fallenness - flatness as.
I was swept up in the drama of the music, and they paired so well with the words we were singing (the more I think of it, I'm sure it had to be Hymn 253. The tune pairs well with Brian Wren's "When Christ was lifted", but it's just not the same!).
And part and parcel of the drama that I was experiencing was this viscerally propulsive two-bar interlude that comes out of one stanza and leads seamlessly back into the next.
Embellishing the space around the break in the stanzas is a modern hymn tune trope that began with the pedal thumpery of Stanford's ENGELBERG. It's a quest to eliminate the amorphous pause between stanzas (the organist's perpetual necessity and dilemma) and offer a musical unification of the poetry that is (mostly) whole.
As an aside, it's the kind of linkage we so sorely need between the last two stanzas of Frank Mason North's long-lived Social Gospel hymn "Where cross the crowded ways of life" by Frank Mason North.
O Master, from the mountain side, make haste to heal these hearts of pain; among these restless throngs abide, O tread the city's streets again; Till all the world shall learn thy love, and follow where thy feet have trod; till glorious from thy heaven above, shall come the city of our God.
It's perhaps the most final sounding semi-colon in all of hymnody, and without one of these "revolving door" tunes, how can it be otherwise? Maybe someone will give us a Long Meter equivalent of SAN ROCCO. Maybe someone already has!
But, in the mean time, we still have SAN ROCCO, the "richly textured, thoroughly modern tune". Its sweeping ascents and its and audacious range. It defies gravity a bit, this tune.
And maybe that's what that interlude is about. It's so bold, the hymn tune, that it needs something else a bit more weighty to bind it to earth before it goes soaring through the air once again like an exuberant albatross. It's touching base, perhaps.
I'm talking here of the two-bar "Optional Interlude Between Stanzas" in the Hymnal 1982. You can hear it employed on the very find recording The English Hymn, Vol. 1 - Christ Triumphant recorded by the Wells Cathedral Choir under Malcolm Archer.
I have to say, I've learned that the Hymnal 1982 can slightly sanitize some of the more pioneering elements in modern hymnody, and I wonder if the word "optional" might be an American editorial insertion. At any rate, I'd be curious to see the original publication of the tune and figure out if the composer really considered it "optional" at all.
Because for me personally, this interlude is part of the whole experience.
And when I start this hymn up this morning for All Saints' Sunday I'll be transported back, once again to that Evensong – back to a chilly October evening in Cleveland.
It will take me back to that soaring gothic nave and the stained glass. It will take me back to the sounds of that Flentrop organ and the airy lightness of the Hereford Choir. It will take me back to the sense that I had stepped into a tradition that was much older than I was -- a tradition that I was eager to absorb, study, and be a part of.
But not a stodgy immovable tradition that never innovates. It's the kind of living tradition that would attempt the breadth of Anglican music but with a Flentrop organ, not an Aeolian Skinner. It's the kind of tradition that would allow for an Optional Interlude Between Stanzas.
About a year and a half after my first visit to Trinity, Cleveland I returned to that same cathedral on a May morning to be confirmed into the Episcopal church.
And though it wasn't included in the festive Eucharistic liturgy again that day, the words and the inspiration I drew from that hymn at Evensong were with me. It had kindled in me a zeal. This hymn had started me on a path and led me back again, to seek Confirmation and a committed life in the Episcopal expression of the Christian faith.
In a very real way, SAN ROCCO changed my life.
Give us the wings of faith to rise within the veil, and see the saints above, how great their joys, how bright their glories be. We ask them whence their victory came: they, with united breath, ascribe their conquest to the Lamb, their triumph to his death. They marked the footsteps that he trod, his zeal inspired their quest; and following their incarnate God, they reached the promised rest. Our glorious Leader claims our praise for his own pattern given; while the long cloud of witnesses show the same path to heaven.
Labels: All Saints' Day, BCP, Derek Williams, Evensong, Flentrop, Frank Mason North, Hereford, Hymn 253, Hymn 603/4, Hymn 609, hymns, Isaac Watts, liturgy, Malcolm Archer, San Rocco, Trinity Cathedral (Cleveland)
Something about the Very Rev. Neal Michell's easy dismissal of traditional sacred music in "A call to common prayer" is troubling, especially when held in tension with his points about a common rite. Music, I think, cannot be fully separated from the rite.
- If "we a church under authority", who holds authority over the music. (Answer: rectors and deans. Question: what is the scope of their musical training? Does it compare to the rest of their liturgical training and practicum?)
- "We are a church of common prayer." Yes we are. And is not service music and hymn singing a part of that common prayer? Are we singing the same corpus of hymns (i.e., are we using the Hymnal 1982?). Are we disproportionately using hymnal supplements? Are we singing the real Gloria and not just a reader's digest version?
- "Using non-authorized rites is a bad idea" because "doing so exhibits an individualism that is antithetical to a church aiming to be catholic." Okay. So how is using "non-authorized" music any different?
Music, of course, should not be uniform, but neither should liturgy. Context is important.
I'm being naïve, surely. And yet I wonder if there isn't a double standard here.
My expereince leads me to believe there are probably just as many (if not more?) violations against "common music" than there are against "common prayer".
Labels: BCP, church music, liturgy
The Center for Liturgy and Music at Virginia Theological Seminary and Ellen Johnston should be commended for their recent guide to designing service leaflets for the service of the Holy Eucharist in the Episcopal Church ("A Resource on Designing Service Leaflets" PDF)
This kind of attention to detail is sorely needed, and I hope it sparks close examination of printed service leaflets in many parishes.
But there is a widespread discrepancy in service leaflets in the Episcopal Church that this guide does not address: the question of when the service begins.
It's quite common to see various locations in the service leaflet for the printed subtitle "The Word of God".
Often the prelude, introit (if there is one), and hymn are all listed prior to the subtitle "The Word of God". This makes it appear as though the Acclamation ("Blessed be God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit") is the beginning of the liturgy.
In other cases the subtitle "The Word of God" appears after the Collect of the Day and before the first Lesson.
I would respectfully suggest that both of these approaches confuse the shape of the service and the place of church music in our worship.
The subtitle of "The Word of God" is the first thing given on p. 355 of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer. After this, the first item is a rubric: A hymn, psalm, or anthem may be sung.
It is apparent from this order that the first hymn of the service (and the introit, if there is one) qualify as the beginning of the service and fall under this heading of "The Word of God". To be clear: the only thing that should appear before "The Word of God" is the Prelude (if there is one).
If a subheading is desired before the lessons themselves, it should simply be "The Lessons" as seen on p. 357. This should not rise to the level of the subtitle that we see on p. 355 of the Prayer Book.
Why is this important?
Because listing the subtitle after the hymn affords this piece of church music second class status. The Prelude music before the service is precisely that: before the service. But church music which reflects the both the historic tradition of the church and careful selection by those persons called to a ministry of church music (propers, hymns, psalms, anthems, motets, etc.) is rightly a genuine part of the community's worship.
And getting this distinction right is the responsibility that we take on with printing the content of the Prayer Book in a service leaflet: faithfulness to the Book of Common Prayer. Reprinting the liturgy in a disposable leaflet is not an excuse to alter the liturgy as we see fit. This is contrary to the Anglican spirit of common prayer.
It is surely for this reason, among others, that the esteemed bloggers of Sed Angli, advocates of "straight up" Anglicanism, advocate for a minimal bulletin.
Reprinting the whole service obviates the need to have the Prayer Book around, and we are well not only to have the Prayer Book, but also to use it. Page numbers will suffice, thank you.How it’s done, VI, 21 March 2012
Now for those who disagree with my assertion about the liturgy beginning with the first hymn, surely some will quote the puzzling statement by Marion Hatchett in A Manual for Clergy and Church Musicians: "The real beginning of the liturgy is the first lesson." (p. 106)
I would beg to differ.
If your service starts at 11:00 a.m. the "real beginning" of the service is 11:00 a.m. It is surely not a "fake beginning".
In the vast majority of places, this means the music before the service is ended, and the first hymn (or the introit) begins the service proper.
In order make a "real beginning" with the First Lesson, one would simply read it at the start of the service without fanfare. This kind of logic dismisses the historic pattern of the entrance rite of the liturgy–a rite that is designed to honor the Word of God. Not surprisingly, the Prayer Book doesn't allow for it; the Acclamation, Kyrie/Trisagion or Gloria, and Collect of the Day are all required elements.
And though we should cherish this historic pattern of entrance we should not make the mistake of elevating the entrance rite to a capital letter "Entrance Rite" in the service leaflet. The Prayer Book avoids this designation and so should we. Worship in the Episcopal Church can be convoluted enough without superfluous monikers.
We are indeed well to use the Prayer Book, whether in its hardbound format, on our iPad, or reprinted in a parochial service leaflet.
I implore my brothers and sisters in the Episcopal Church to utilize the very clear outline of the Holy Eucharist provided in the 1979 Prayer Book.
- The Holy Eucharist
- The Word of God
- The Holy Communion
Today I'm going to say something that no one seems to have the courage to say: there is nothing wrong with "The Doxology" in the liturgy of the Episcopal Church. Let me be clear on this point. I'm talking about the words "Praise God from whom all blessings flow" by Thomas Ken sung to the tune of OLD 100TH at the Presentation.
The much-maligned Thomas Ken
(1637-1711), born in the same
year as Buxtehude
Here's the problem: the anger that many objectors feel is actually misplaced frustration at an element of Anglican liturgy that Americans have hopelessly corrupted.
Here's the story.
Once upon a time there was the Western Liturgy what with its Mass and its Divine Office and its Liber Usualis and all that. At the time of the Offertory of the Mass, a chant was sung: the Offertorium. During this time the bread and the wine were presented to the celebrant by the people and prepared for the eucharistic celebration. At the conclusion of this chant, the Eucharistic Prayer was begun.
Zacchaeus stood forth, and said unto the Lord, Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have done any wrong to any man, I restore four-fold.
St. Luke 19.
Offertory sentence from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer
Eventually Anglicans got a hold of this liturgy and adapted it for their own devices. The traditional Offertory chants were not subsumed into Anglican worship, but rather new sentences, largely from the New Testament, were prescribed to be read aloud (note, not sung) by the celebrant. The 1662 rubric for the celebrant reads
Then shall the Priest return to the Lord's Table, and begin the Offertory, saying one or more of these Sentences following, as he thinketh most convenient in his discretion.
The rubrics direct that the alms are taken up while these Offertory Sentences are read aloud and then be brought to the celebrant.
Meanwhile, Anglicans adapted the offices of Vespers and Compline into Evensong with its famous Church-Musick rubric after the third collect, "In Quires and Places where they sing here followeth the Anthem."
What's an Anthem? Well, it's an elaboration of the Antiphon, like we have in that old Offertory chant. Some of these historic antiphons were developed by composers into polyphonic settings (much to the benefit of humankind) and they served to embellish the Roman Catholic liturgy.
The antiphon and therefore their polyphonic treatments were not translated into the Anglican liturgy wholesale (though the torch for them burned rather brightly at the Chapel Royal). And yet many Anglicans had already developed a choral tradition. So what to do? The "Anthem" at Evensong was a solution. Note, however, that this mention of an Anthem does not appear in the Eucharist.
But at the instigation of ever-ambitious musicians, Anglicans soon looked for ways to infest the new Prayer Book liturgy with music. Furthermore, there was serious uneasiness with church music in Latin, so in most places new English language music was desired. These two forces combined to see the writing of "Anthems" based on the Offertory Sentences and other comparable pieces of scripture. With this music, the drab spoken part of the celebrant could be handled rather deftly by the choir.
So, to review, here's how things stood around the time of the 1662 Prayer Book.
- Anthems permitted at Evensong, not explicitly permitted at Eucharist
- Offertory Sentences to be read by celebrant could be sung by choir
But if we jump ahead quite a bit to, say, this coming Sunday and check in on two branches of the Anglican Church, the one in England and the one in the United States, we see that practices have generally diverged.
In England
- Evensong is sung in many places
- At Eucharist
- Emphasis on Mass setting
- At Offertory, hymn sung by all (not anthem)
- Eucharistic Prayer follows immediately
In the United States
- Very few places sing Evensong
- At Eucharist
- Mass parts are mixed, omitted, or sometimes replaced by a hymn
- At Offertory, an anthem
- After the anthem and before the Eucharistic Prayer, some kind of Presentation Hymn (not mentioned in 1979 Prayer Book)
Rubrical Clarification: I'm reading the rubric on p. 361 at face value: "During the Offertory, a hymn, psalm, or anthem may be sung."
The key points being that during the Offertory:
• One piece of music is permitted, be it a hymn, psalm or anthem. So to sing an Anthem and a hymn or a fragment thereof would be a violation of this rubric.
• Music may be sung, but there may also be no music.
• Incidentally, I don't see permission here for exclusively instrumental (organ) music.
What becomes clear is that English churches have largely retained the historic shape of the Western liturgy, the Offertory Hymn taking the place of the Offertory Chant and serving the same function. American churches, meanwhile, have conflated the anthem of Evensong with the Eucharistic liturgy at the expense of its integral parts, seriously confusing the liturgical shape of the Offertory. (In both places there is ample room for music at Communion, but this is beyond the scope of this article).
To see how confused the present situation is, one need only look at the most ignored rubric in the 1979 American Prayer Book.
Representatives of the congregation bring the people's offerings of bread and wine, and money or other gifts, to the deacon or celebrant. The people stand while the offerings are presented and placed on the Altar.1979 BCP, p. 361, emphasis mine
In how many places do the People stand while the bread and wine are presented? Note that the rubric seems to assume that the gifts are presented together. I'll address this below.
The presentation of the bread and wine is on behalf of the entire gathered assembly. These gifts, which are offered from the People to God, are then given by God back to his People. It is interesting then that this initial stage of the journey of the Eucharist elements is so ignored.
I would posit that in the vast majority of Episcopal churches the congregation sits while the elements are presented and the choir sings an anthem. Am I wrong?
This poses multiple problems
- The rubric instructing the People to stand is ignored. If the presentation of the bread and the wine is a liturgical act, done on behalf of all the People, the assembly should be standing to enact this.
- The Anthem takes on more "concert hall" importance as people sit to hear it. It also probably grows in length.
- If the money offering is collected during the Anthem then it, too, must be presented to the Celebrant. This is either done
- during the singing of the Anthem, which poses a minor logistical challenge in terms of timing
- after the conclusion of the Anthem, which then leaves open the question of what musical activity, if any, will cover the action.
Note that in either case, the money is separated from the bread and the wine, making two presentations of the Offering. You could argue this is good, bad, or ugly, but if modern people are more attached to their own cash than the bread and wine that are provided on their behalf, I would wager that it helps the sensation of Offering if these things are Offered simultaneously as part of a single procession.
So here, at last, we arrive at the liturgical opening for the Doxology (point 3.2 above). As you can see, the merits of running the liturgy this way are questionable at best, but it is the practice in most Episcopal congregations (as best I can tell).
Whatever is sung or played here, it need be short.
Some possibilities
- Have the choir sing the Offertory Chant - in English or in the original Latin - though at this point the People have been silent musically since the announcement of the Gospel. It's probably time to have them sing again.
- Have the People sing a hymn. Really?! You've already got an Entrance Hymn, a Gradual/Sequence Hymn, probably a hymn at the distribution of Communion, and more than likely an extra-rubrical Postcommunion Hymn (again, beyond our scope here). Does the liturgy really gain from multiple stanzas sung by the people here? At some point we need to admit that this radically prolongs the very simple liturgical shape of the Offertory: present the bread, wine, and money.
- Have the People sing one stanza of a hymn. That's a great idea. Why not have the people say one verse of a Psalm instead? Or perhaps say one line of the Athanasius Creed? Hymns are not meant to be mincemeat to be picked apart and spread willy-nilly throughout the Divine Offering. One of the great joys of hymn singing is allowing the tune to become second-nature as the verses move by. To sing only a single stanza makes the endeavor halting, disorienting, and repugnant. And if it changes week to week it's even worse.
- Wait a minute though, isn't the Doxology just one stanza of a hymn? Okay, you got me there. Yes, it is. So I suppose that I could suggest signing the final Doxological stanza of a hymn. Many hymns have these.
- Have the People sing the final Doxological stanza of a hymn Great. Let's do it. And let's not change it week to week either, please.
And let me ask you, could there be a more genuine text of praise in English verse than this? (Well maybe "Awesome God" by Rich Mullins, but I digress...)
Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow; Praise Him, all creatures here below; Praise Him above, ye heavenly host; Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.
A penultimate point: the bifurcation of the elements of the bread and wine from the money may not be the central issue at all. For better or worse the Anthem at the Eucharist has become part of the Offertory theology of the Episcopal Church. We've made our bed, so let's lie in it, but first let's put on the silk sheets. Having the People join in a regular musical response after a more elaborate choral offering by the choir is highly appropriate (I believe the credit to the phrase "Musical Offering" must largely be given to J. S. Bach). It joins the assembly in worship in the same modality just offered by the choir. The effect of this can be clarified through careful planning of the Doxology—either by transposition or transition, or both. Gerre Hancock was a master of this. It's good Anglican musical theology.
Finally, there is nothing wrong with repetition in the liturgy. We repeat the words of the Gloria in Excelsis, the Sanctus, the Benedictus, whatever our parish sings at the Fraction.
I had the experience recently of the Rector of a parish asking me if the RSCM-affiliated Choristers could come into a meeting being held concurrently with our rehearsal to lead the people in the Doxology. Fantastic, I thought. "Yes," I replied. "We would love to do that."
I told the Choristers that we would be singing the Doxology. "The what?", they asked.
No problem. These Choristers were more than capable of singing a hymn. So we opened the hymnal to 380 and took a look at stanza 3.
“Are we really so elitist that we think that we're above the Doxology?”
It was fine. They could sing it. But it didn't resonate yet. It didn't roll off the tongue. Not as it did for me, and not as it did for the Rector. And not as it did for a large gathering in the Diocese who elected a bishop later that year. And not as it does for many gatherings in the Anglican Communion where a short, joyous outburst of praise is desired by all. ("Let's sing the Gloria in Excelsis!" said no one at a meeting, ever.)
I think we overlook the merits of the Doxology as a catechetical tool for young people at our peril. It is easily learned at a young age. It is the connective tissue between Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, the home, and liturgical worship.
More to the point, the Doxology is already known widely, not just by many Anglicans (admit it, you know it by heart), but by Christians around the world.
Are we really so elitist that we think that we're above the Doxology? Is it really "You must give me the Venite sung to my favourite single Anglican Chant and pass the sherry, and then give me Howells Magnificats and pass the single malt, but please, not Thomas Ken!"
No, I don't think so. And I'm rather fed up with people who think that they are above this.
Because the Doxology is not Welch's as so many fear. It is a fine Cabernet, rich and full.
It is one manifestation of the Christian unity that we so sorely need.
And it is available in equally attractive non-alcoholic options for our young people and our Baptist brothers and sisters.
Labels: Bach, BCP, church music, Doxology, Episcopal Church, Gerre Hancock, Hymn 380, liturgy, Offertory, Thomas Ken
Evensong is on the rise in Britain, especially with young people.
College chaplains have seen a steady but noticeable increase in attendances at the early evening services which combine contemplative music with the 16th Century language of the Book of Common Prayer.
It's a good example of how not adopting the popular culture wholesale can set the church apart as a sacred space.
Chaplains say the mix of music, silence and centuries-old language appears to have taken on a new appeal for a generation more used to instant and constant communications, often conducted in 140 characters rather than the phrases of Cranmer.
“The era of jaded folk worship is coming to an end”
The conclusion reached by some (which has also been borne out by surveys in the U.S.) is that the younger generation is largely rejecting the "popular" or "folk" idioms that were propagated in many churches in the 1970s.
“The era of jaded folk worship is coming to an end,” [Neil McCleery] said.“Indeed I think the people who want that sort of thing are the older generation now and the young are coming back to traditional worship and the choral tradition.”
Read the article: Bingham, John. "Looking for Britain’s future leaders? Try evensong". The Telegraph 1 March 2016
Labels: BCP, Evensong, New College (Oxford), silence, worship, young people
On Wednesday, November 11, comes this year's Feast of St. Martin of Tours and the Advent of Advent. There is an old tradition of "the Lent of St. Martin" (see a description here) being a sort of intentional pre-Advent season. A waiting before the waiting.
I'm interested in this.
If you look, you can find little vestiges of this pre-Advent show up in places.
Like this collect from last Sunday, Proper 27.
O God, whose blessed Son was manifested that he might destroy the works of the devil and make us children of God and heirs of eternal life: Grant us, we beseech thee, that, having this hope, we may purify ourselves even as he is pure; that, when he shall appear again with power and great glory, we may be made like unto him in his eternal and glorious kingdom; where with thee, O Father, and thee, O Holy Ghost, he liveth and reigneth ever, one God, world without end. Amen.
There's some Advent language in there.
Our English brothers and sisters observe a "Sunday Next before Advent" in their prayer books. It's the same day that we Americans Anglicans call "The Last Sunday after Pentecost"
Last Sunday after Pentecost Tangent: Please note that the title "Christ the King" or any such thing appears nowhere in any Anglican prayer book, but that's another topic for another time.
The American Book of Common Prayer from 1928 comes closest to reclaiming the pre-Advent tradition. But it's found in a revision to that book's Lectionary in 1945 [PDF].
In this lectionary, the three Sundays prior to Advent Sunday are
- Third Sunday before Advent
- Second Sunday before Advent
- Sunday next before Advent
Note also that Proper 27 (above) corresponds with the Third Sunday before Advent.
Also notable in this 1945 lectionary: the Sundays of Advent proper are Sundays "in" Advent, not Sundays "of" Advent as we find in the current 1979 Book of Common Prayer. The difference is subtle, but the older nomenclature suggests a more penitential nature of the season of Advent. The 1979 retains this "Sundays in" terminology only for the season of Lent.
So, here on the blog, let's explore, over the next three weeks, what the Evening Prayer lessons would be like in this pre-Advent season, shall we?
Labels: Advent, BCP, lectionary, Lent, Lent of St. Martin, liturgy, prayer
Why should you return to a church on a Sunday evening (assuming you were there that very morning) to attend the service of Choral Evensong? If you ever find yourself moved by the choral music you hear in worship on Sunday mornings, you will find an abundance of sacred choral music offered to the glory of God in this shorter candlelit service.
Dale Adelmann's article at the Cathedral of St. Philip in Atlanta speaks to this well: "Think Evensong isn’t for you? Well, if you ever resonate with the choirs’ musical offerings on Sunday morning, you will find Evensong to be an especially rich revelation of the glory and presence of God."
"Have you ever been to Evensong?" 13 September 2015
Evensong (the service of Evening Prayer, sung) is drawn almost entirely from the Bible and has been sung regularly in the Anglican Church since the sixteenth century. Its purpose is to give thanks in song and sight to God, the Giver of all beauty. This service brings together many elements of the older monastic offices of Vespers and Compline, particularly their respective canticles the Magnificat (Luke 1) and the Nunc dimittis (Luke 2). There is wide variety of music spanning four centuries that has been written specifically for this evening liturgy.
“We live between the act of awakening and the act of surrender”
You may find that Evensong the ideal place to introduce a friend or colleague to the rich liturgical and musical heritage of the Episcopal Church. With neither sermon nor Eucharist, the more contemplative atmosphere at Evensong can be a wonderful experience for a new or returning Christian.
Furthermore, there is an indescribable quality to worship at the time of the sun’s setting. The energetic quality of the morning liturgy is familiar to American Christians; the contemplative quality of Evensong, less so.
The service in the morning is a ready complement to our addiction to busyness (cars!), need for control (iPhones!), and love of energy (Starbucks!).
This service in the evening helps us to turn our attention away from ourselves to remember many different aspects of our relationship to God: including the act of surrender.
“We live between the act of awakening and the act of surrender. Each morning we awaken to the light and the invitation to a new day in the world of time; each night we surrender to the dark to be taken to play in the world of dreams where time is no more. At birth we were awakened and emerged to become visible in the world. At death we will surrender again to the dark to become invisible. Awakening and surrender: they frame each day and each life; between them the journey where anything can happen, the beauty and the frailty.”– John O’Donohue, quoted from "Between Awakening and Surrender: John O’Donohue on Beauty, the Enchantment of Falling in Love, and the Vortex of Desire" Brainpickings 21 September 2015.
I invite you to frame your day with worship, including Evensong. Seek out an Evensong if you can. Or gather with others and read Evening Prayer (use Rite I if you wish to use the language often heard at Evensong) from the Book of Common Prayer.
Further Reading
- Hough, Stephen. "'Do not touch me': the wisdom of Anglican thresholds". The Telegraph 25 January 2012.
- Mead, the Rev. Andrew C. "What is Evensong?". A sermon preached Sunday, October 30, 2011 at St. Thomas Church, Fifth Avenue, New York City.
Labels: BCP, church music, evangelism, Evensong, John O'Donohue
There's a remarkable Vigil service hidden in the Book of Common Prayer, but you have to know just where to find it.
You'd think that the Vigil of Pentecost might be found after the Great Vigil of Easter, but it's not.
In fact, it's not explained within "Proper Liturgies for Special Days" section of the prayer book, but above the first collect for Pentecost.
On page 175, above the Rite I collect, and again on page 227, above the Rite II collect.
The instructions read:
When a Vigil of Pentecost is observed, it begins with the Service of Light, page 109 (substituting, if desired, the Gloria in Excelsis for the Phos hilaron), and continues with the Salutation and Collect of the Day. Three or more of the appointed Lessons are read before the Gospel, each followed by a Psalm, Canticle, or hymn. Holy Baptism or Confirmation (beginning with the Presentation of the Candidates), or the Renewal of Baptismal Vows, page 292, follows the Sermon.
So we're collecting page numbers as we go. It's a scavenger hunt kind of service.
If you consult the prayer book lectionary (page 917) you get these choices:
Genesis 11:1-9 or Exodus 19:1-9,16-20a;20:18-20 or Ezekiel 37:1-14 or Joel 2:28-32 Acts 2:1-11 or Romans 8:14-17,22-27 John 7:37-39a
Here's where things get really fun. The "ors" in the lectionary don't insist on three lessons the way the rubric for the service does. At face value from the lectionary citation, you could read Genesis, Acts, and then go ahead to the gospel. Note that this is only two lessons, and not three. So, there's a problem here. I would suggest that probably a minimum of two Old Testament lessons should be read.
More on this in our next installment.
Labels: BCP, lectionary, liturgy, Pentecost, The Great Vigil of Easter, The Vigil of Pentecost
The ever-alert Sed Angli points us to these Liturgical Thoughts and Notes by the rector of St. Mary the Virgin, in New York City:
My reason for the return is very straightforward: the 1979 lectionary was developed for use with the Eucharistic Rite of the new Prayer Book; the new Episcopal edition of the Revised Common Lectionary was not—and it shows in many ways. The 1979 lectionary is not perfect by any means, but it was shaped by and for Episcopal Church worship. We have the opportunity to use it and I think we should.
I will not have the resources or background knowledge to study these issues adequately, but even an organist notices that the excision in the middle of this week's Gospel lesson is a bit odd.
The Revised Common Lectionary has:
The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. [here the lection omits v. 35-52]
When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
While the 1979 prayer book lectionary contains the whole story of the feeding of the 5,000:
The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. When it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, "This is a deserted place, and the hour is now very late; send them away so that they may go into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat." But he answered them, "You give them something to eat." They said to him, "Are we to go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread, and give it to them to eat?" And he said to them, "How many loaves have you? Go and see." When they had found out, they said, "Five, and two fish." Then he ordered them to get all the people to sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups of hundreds and of fifties. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before the people; and he divided the two fish among them all. And all ate and were filled; and they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish. Those who had eaten the loaves numbered five thousand men.
Labels: BCP, Episcopal Church, lectionary, St Mary the Virgin (New York)
The Prelude should draw one into the service. In this instance, listening to "America the Beautiful" arranged by Carmen Dragon, I believed I was being drawn into a late 1930s Disney cartoon.
Luckily, Erik Wm. Suter was able to create a much more suitable prelude on the organ using America the Beautiful as a theme for a very refined improvisation.
But little does it matter on an occaision of such "civil religion", because there is a great deal of unscripted maneuvering that has to occur. There are a couple of band numbers after Suter's prelude and before Bishop Chane's reception of the body.
But from what I can tell from the streaming audio, and my memory of Ronald Reagan's funeral (11 June 2004), this manuevering music is performed from outside the cathedral, and so it is the organ that has the last word from the liturgical authorities.
There's only so much of the state that the church should let inside, really. And thank goodness for that. Only those of you who were able to watch on television will know whether George W. Bush was able to follow the verger this time. Judging from the audio, he does seem to get to the microphone very quickly.
The Old Testament Lesson, Isaiah 40:28:31 was also read at Reagan's funeral. This lection, however, is not perscribed by the Book of Common Prayer. Neither is the New Testament Lesson as it was read (through the first part of verse six, not the entire verse). So I have to agree that it was a silly case of scripture splicing, but I think it's unpastoral to hold Gerald Ford and his family to BCP rubrics on this reading, and not the other two.
Tangent: Robert Certain alluded to the 2006 General Convention in his sermon. Turns out he updated a blog during the convention.
Labels: BCP, funeral, George W Bush, Gerald Ford, National Cathedral, organ, scripture, verger
©MMXVII Sinden.org: a site for fun and prophet