Tag Archive for 'presider'

Prayers for an Inclusive Church

Published on May 26, 2010 in liturgy. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , .

Book review of Prayers for an Inclusive Church

The prayer at the heart of the Liturgy of the Eucharist is the Great Thanksgiving/Eucharistic Prayer. The prayer at the heart of the Liturgy of the Word is the collect/opening prayer. Both of these prayers plunge us deeper into the life of God the Holy Trinity. They are led by the presider, addressed to God, the First Person of the Trinity, as we, together as Christ’s body, pray in the power of the Spirit.

The collect/opening prayer has a bidding (invitation to pray), the community prays together in deep silent prayer, then the collect is proclaimed, and the now-gathered community affirms/ratifies the prayer by a resounding “Amen.” (”So be it”).

The collect (like haiku or sonnet) has its own particular, recognisable structure. In the five-fold structure, three parts are always present (marked *):

*You– Address
Who – Amplification (& motive)
*Do – Petition
To – Purpose (& motive)
*Through Jesus Christ…

Collects, like Eucharistic Prayers, are to be general. Inclusive. We should all be able to find ourselves in them. We should all be able to assent with the “Amen”. We live in a RCL/3YearLectionary, post-tight-little-themed-Sunday-services church. Where pebbles are cast and we hope the ripples somehow touch all – or nearly all. Collects, hence, are mostly general prayers, not too tightly setting a them.

Prayers for an Inclusive Church is mostly a collection of collects – about a hundred and fifty of them across the three years of the RCL. Unfortunately the collects are not supplied with a particular bidding. They are mostly linked to the gospel reading. Other than that, they essentially fulfil the requirements of my criteria above [each has the shorter ending, eg. "through Jesus Christ the Way, the Truth, and the Life." rather than the normal Trinitarian ending, which in any case the presider could continue with, "...with you... and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever."]. About half a dozen of them are addressed to the Second or Third Person of the Trinity, creating that oddity of praying to the Second Person of the Trinity “through Jesus Christ”. But Steven Shakespeare is clearly aware of these issues and his Introduction sets out an understanding of inclusiveness and the place of prayer which articulates insightfully the contribution of René Girard. For those who think inclusiveness is “a shapeless tolerance for anything and everything”, Steven Shakespeare highlights from his previous book that “the inclusiveness of the church is precisely what makes it a demanding, counter-cultural presence in the world.”

Mostly the prayers here are pretty-much usable as given. Occasionally I would alter a word here or there. I am possibly not as comfortable as the author to use an image in prayer for the purpose of what I might call “shock tactics”. Here are prayers that allow us to see scriptural passages afresh. There are also confessions, introductions to the Peace, and Eucharistic Prayers which would need their own review. Because of this book I have already ordered his book The Inclusive God: Reclaiming Theology for an Inclusive Church. Out of five stars, this collection gets four and a half from me.

Collect for this coming Sunday:

Holy Trinity,
you are neither monarch nor monologue
but an eternal harmony
of gift and response:
through the Uncreated Word
and the Spirit of Truth
include us and all creation
in your extravagant love;
through the Wisdom of God,
who raises her voice
to call us to life.
Amen.

presider never preaching

Published on April 29, 2010 in liturgy. 21 Comments Tags: , , , .

priestpresbyterI have been developing a theology and practice here of ordained priesthood/presbyterate where presiding-preaching-pastoring are three intimately intertwined, irreducible dimensions.

This post might be regarded as a fourth (in a trilogy) reflecting on:

Here’s the question/issue:

In a two (or more) priest community, there are some who have developed a tradition where one priest presides at the Eucharist and the other priest preaches. They roster week about. In other words the presider never preaches, and the preacher never presides.

What do you think?

Lay presidency

Published on March 17, 2010 in liturgy. 42 Comments Tags: , , , , .

I see, from time to time, discussions about “lay presidency” of the Eucharist. In favour of this, regularly the eucharistic rite is dismembered and the discussion quickly degenerates to, “why can a lay person do this bit and not that bit?” This functionalism and legalism is often emotionally undergirded with an anti-catholic attitude {Sydney Anglicans are forbidden from such “popish” practices as wearing a chasuble (as St Paul did), adding water to the wine (as Jesus would have),… if they could get rid of the connection between priesthood and eucharist they would have removed most of the catholic hardware on which Anglicanism runs}.

Any reflection on eucharistic presidency can begin with the concept and practice of presidency generally. A teacher presides over a classroom, a judge presides over a courtroom. This does not mean the teacher does everything – quite the opposite. Good educational theory will have the teacher enabling, facilitating the learning of all in the room. The teacher involves individuals and the whole class in the learning process. Similarly, the judge does not do everything in the courtroom, others have specific tasks and the judge oversees and coordinates the smooth running of all that happens in the room.

The priest oversees all that happens in the Eucharist. The priest doesn’t do everything – quite the opposite. Others have specific tasks and the priest coordinates the smooth running of all that happens at the Eucharist, enabling, facilitating the worship of all present. There are certain things that the presider needs to do in order to be clearly and appropriately presiding.

In New Zealand Anglicanism certain things have happened that have obscured the place of the priest at the Eucharist.

In the revision of the BCP that began in 1964, the commission designed the Liturgy of the Word in such a way that it could stand alone in the form of an Office, replacing, for example, Matins or Evensong. This meant that this could be led by a lay person. The commission wrote:

For occasions when it is not desired or possible to celebrate the Holy Communion, the first part of the Liturgy to the end of the Intercession provides an order of worship complete in itself. This service does not require the presence of a priest. (Introduction to 1966 Liturgy)

Furthermore, during theological study at St John’s College in Auckland, ordinands “practised” liturgical leadership by leading parts of the Eucharist that did not require ordination. In so dividing up the leadership of a service this gave a poor model of good liturgical leadership and presidency . Rather than reflecting on appropriate presiding models, these ordinands, once ordained, cloned their St John’s experience in their parish. What could arguably have had a certain appropriateness in a seminary context, was now replicated in a context in which it was not.

Poor liturgical study, training, and formation combined with rubrical fundamentalism with a Prayer Book that continued the 1964 distinctions between “first” and “second” part of the Eucharist and its leadership, and little reflection on the nature of presidency generally, as well as (appropriate) reaction against the tradition in which “the priest did it all” increased the trend to having a lay person “lead the first part” and a priest “lead the second part”. This development naturally leads to the question: why can a lay person not “lead the second part?”

In rural, multi-centre parishes (often in the past the first experience of a priest being a vicar after curacy) the priest was moving from centre to centre on Sunday morning, and might not arrive at the start of the service. A lay person would then start the service off.

“Locally Shared Ministry/Total Ministry” has severed the link between pastoring, preaching, and presiding for priesthood, dividing up the tasks that need to be held together to prevent a priest’s presiding from appearing like magic. In many ways, that last part of the sentence should be in the forefront of many people’s reflection. What is left in many communities who would articulate a “low” view of ordained priesthood is in fact a rubrical fundamentalism that gives the appearance of the priest being a sort of magician who is brought out to do those bits of a service a lay person cannot lead: the absolution, the consecration, the blessing. What is lost in this is both an appropriate understanding of lay ministry which has been clericalised, as well as an appropriate understanding of priesthood which has been reduced to a magician.

Those who advocate for “lay presidency of the Eucharist” do so by stating that these presiders will be authorised to preside by the bishop. One presumes that such authorisation would be done prayerfully – in which case we have such authorisation by the bishop already. For two millennia it has been called “ordination”.

This can be regarded as the third post in a series. The first discussed being ordained directly to the order to which God calls you. The second discussed persons in one order acting out the ministry of persons in another order.

Well-rehearsed spontaneity

Published on August 10, 2009 in liturgy. 4 Comments Tags: , , .

Many have highlighted that the dance video which appeared spontaneous was actually well-rehearsed.

I am not concerned that this is the case. Some of what appears most spontaneous in a drama, stage-production, stand-up comedy, busking, and so on, has actually been extremely well-rehearsed. Presiders at liturgy, others taking leading parts (readers, prayer leaders,…) need to rehearse to the point where what is “fixed” (responses, readings from scripture,…) is as “natural” as what is not. This is central to my using language as a model for liturgy.

Anything from Improv Everywhere.

Liturgy as language (part 4)

Published on August 8, 2009 in liturgy. 9 Comments Tags: , , , , , , .

If you have skipped the last couple of posts in this series because they have had a particularly Kiwi Anglican focus, do not skip this one. This post is what the series has been leading up to and why the series has the title “Liturgy as language”.

(Series so far: Introductory post; Kiwi Anglican history 1, Kiwi Anglican history 2)

Language as a model for liturgy

Language is picked up naturally during our formative years by participating in a community that uses that language fluently and creatively. As we grow up we also normally complement this formation by receiving some instruction in how to use this language from those who have studied the way the language functions well. Historically there may be moments when language makes a significant change. Shakespeare was such a change within the English language. In the sixteenth century the English language became acceptable whereas previously in England French and Latin had dominance as the respectable languages. Some have credited Shakespeare with introducing 10,000 new words into the language. This is most probably an exaggeration – but it is still likely that he introduced at least a sixth of this sum into English literature.

The “rules” of grammar and the explanation of the meaning of words are hence descriptive – they describe the way that native speakers use the language. If you are not a native speaker, or struggle with the language, then the rules of grammar and dictionary can also be prescriptive – prescribing, stipulating, how to use the language.

A living language is only ever one generation away from vanishing. Once a language has been lost it is possible to revive it. Dictionaries and rules of grammar will then, of course, no longer be descriptive – as there is no living language that one is describing. If the language is being recovered, the attitude to dictionaries and grammar rules will be primarily a regarding of them as prescriptive.

Applying the model of language to liturgy

This series began as a response to an assertion that NZ Anglicanism was not using liturgical prayer fruitfully – and that this struggling to use liturgical prayer has been happening for the last twenty, to twenty-five years – a full generation. I then summarised how this generation lost the liturgical facility (in this post followed by this post).

I want to use the model of language I have developed above to reflect on this. There is a danger in my using language as a model for liturgy. The danger is that people will think I am primarily focusing on the words used in liturgy. In fact I think of gesture and vesture, worship environment, music, and so on, as all part of the “language of liturgy” as well as the words used in liturgy.

Liturgy is picked up naturally during our formative years by participating in a community that uses liturgy fluently and creatively. As we grow we also normally complement this formation by receiving some instruction in how to use liturgy from those who have studied the way liturgy functions well. Historically there may be moments when liturgy makes a significant change. From the 1960s was such a change within liturgy.

The “rules” of liturgy are hence descriptive – they describe the way that well-formed communities use liturgy. If you are not part of a well-formed community, or struggle with liturgy, then the rules of liturgy can also be prescriptive – prescribing, stipulating, how to use liturgy.

If living liturgy vanishes it is possible to revive it. Rubrics and responses will then, of course, no longer be descriptive – as there is no living liturgical life that one is describing. If liturgy is being recovered, the attitude to rubrics, responses, and so on will be primarily a regarding of them as prescriptive.

When a presider at worship stands in front of the gathered community, opens arms wide and says “The Lord be with you” (from memory/by heart), and the community responds enthusiastically from memory/by heart – then this is a sign that this community is using liturgy as a “living language”.

When, on the other hand, a presider at worship stands in front of the gathered community gripping a book, reading the statement from the book, and even addressing the book – and the community responds by reading from the book or from a screen or sheet – then this is a sign that the “language of liturgy” has died. In this second scenario, in which liturgical life has been lost, when a community still follows a prayer book, there will be a much greater emphasis on doing the liturgy in the way the book says only because “that is what is required”. The book, for them, becomes more prescriptive than descriptive. The greeting from the liturgical book is no longer a real greeting – but used mostly (or even solely) because it is prescribed. In such a community the liturgy from the prayer book becomes increasingly “unreal”, disconnected from the real life of the community, even false. It is understandable that such a community increasingly abandons liturgical life in a spiralling circle. In such a service when the presider shifts from using liturgical responses to addressing the gathering “normally” s/he appears to peek out from behind the fixed liturgical pieces and then withdraw again to the prescribed material. The greetings of the liturgy are not experienced as real greetings. Inevitably the prayers are not experienced as real prayers. And the promises are not experienced as real promises.

This is not to suggest, of course, that in a well-formed liturgical community there is no place for following texts. Quite the opposite. In a well-formed liturgical community hymns will still be sung from books just as readings will be read from books and prayers and other texts will be read from books. But such a community will be agile in when we address each other (from memory/by heart), when God, and so on.

Languages have been revived from nearly having died – but it takes significant passion and commitment. The same, let us hope, may also be true for liturgy.

Liturgy as language (part 2)

Published on July 8, 2009 in liturgy. 5 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

1984 25 years on

Liturgy of the Eucharist 1984

Liturgy of the Eucharist 1984

This is the second post in a series looking at how we can use fixed liturgical worship to form thriving, vibrant, growing communities. The series began from the contention of a well-informed New Zealand Anglican priest and his assertion that he cannot think of a single congregation that follows our official liturgy that is either growing, or thriving with a good mixture of ages (especially including younger people). Furthermore, this, he sees as originating in decisions made in the 1980s.

This particular post will be part focusing on New Zealand’s Anglican liturgical history essentially over the last two and a half decades as I believe that this period’s history clarifies the situation we now find ourselves in. This will continue in a later post. And then the series will continue by exploring what, in my opinion, is the underlying dynamic that has been lost during these decades. This current post may be of particular interest more to Kiwis. So, if you have no interest in Kiwi Anglican liturgical history go and have a coffee with a friend, or go and watch a sunset, or pray the daily office…

It will become clear that in the last two and a half decades in NZ Anglicanism there has been a movement away from the concept of liturgy as common prayer. The 1984 Liturgy revision began the loss of knowing responses by heart. From this point NZ Anglicans inevitably become more book-bound (pew-sheet bound, or later projector-screen bound).

Kiwis – don’t look it up: what is the response to “The peace of God be always with you.”?

1964 to 1984

New Zealand Anglicans once had had a relatively conservative liturgical life, following the Book of Common Prayer and minor variants of that. In 1964 there began a revision process that resulted in a 1966 eucharistic rite and a further revision of this in 1970. So by 1984 there had been two decades of either the BCP or a well-received, single contemporary revision. In 1984 all that changed. Now, alongside the contemporary revision were new Eucharist rites that, though structurally relatively similar, had significantly innovative texts.

In these innovative eucharistic texts the traditional, ecumenical, internationally agreed English-language texts used throughout the Anglican Communion were replaced. The following are two examples replacing the sanctus/benedictus (”Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might…”) in 1984:

Holy God, holy and merciful, holy and just,
glory and goodness come from you.
Glory to you most high and gracious God.

and

Holy, holy, holy:
God of mercy, giver of life;
earth and sea and sky
and all that lives,
declare your presence and your glory.

One of the new rites intentionally had far more for the congregation to recite, again increasing the tendency to have more time with heads in books.

Every Sunday in the 1984 revision now no longer had a single collect usually drawn out of the great collect heritage shared throughout Anglicanism. Now each Sunday there was a choice of three collects – many of them not following a collect structure or style.

Kiwis – don’t look it up: what is the response to “The peace of God be with you all.”?

A completely new Order for Celebrating the Eucharist was produced and included in the 1984 Liturgy. In this order basically everything for a Eucharist (even responses) could be resourced from anywhere or created locally (excepting the Last Supper story and one paragraph were fixed in any constructed Eucharistic Prayer).

People were not all following the same readings either. As well as the BCP lectionary, New Zealand’s own creation (a two year thematic lectionary), the Australian Anglican revision of the Roman Catholic three-year lectionary was also authorised.

As well as music and singing being central to liturgy in my opinion, singing inevitably aids memorisation. With three completely different texts (for example) for the sanctus/benedictus (not interchangeable between rites) many communities no longer accessed good quality national ecumenical music or international Anglican and/or ecumenical musical settings.

In summary

From 1984 some wonderfully poetic, imaginative, creative, inclusive, and inculturated texts were being presented to regular worshipping Anglicans. It must be remembered, all this is within the context of a very small province of church-going Anglicans. The numbers in church (say about 35,000 in church on Sunday) are probably that of a reasonable size Church of England diocese. Moving from worshipping community to community there was no longer the expectation that the same readings would be followed, that the same collect would be used, that the same responses and texts would be used, that the same musical settings would be found. Even within a single parish, moving from one service time to another one might encounter completely unfamiliar material. Week by week turning up at the same time on Sunday one could be confronted with a different set of responses in rotation.

Creativity and flexibility became values now embodied in the official rites. Saying and singing things “by heart” (in the deepest sense of that phrase) was being lost. Common prayer – in the sense of celebrating Eucharist as the great shared worship action of Christ and his body, the church – was being lost in individualism and congregationalism. The measure of a “successful” service was shifting. The understanding of liturgy was shifting from community actions and celebration accompanied by words with a significant amount sung and by heart - to reciting beautiful poetic words at each other read from books and ever-changing pew sheets.

Answers:
The Peace of God be always with you.
Praise to Christ who is our peace.
and
The peace of God be with you all.
In God’s justice is our peace.

Next time you hear either of those particular responses check – is the person addressing you/the congregation or addressing the book (pamphlet) s/he is reading from? And are most in the congregation addressing the presider in return – or do they have their eyes fixed on the book/screen/pamphlet? If in your community you are actually addressing each other and there are no books/screens/pamphlets involved at this point give yourself a gold star liturgical WOF. If you got both the above responses correct from memory your application to lecture on liturgy at St John’s College has been accepted. For the rest of us… this series will be continued…

The next post in this series is found here

Listen to the Word

Published on May 4, 2009 in liturgy. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , .

185193Listen to the Word
Author: Daniel McCathy
Hardback, 154 pages
Available from Redemptorist Publications

The highlight of my weekly reading of the Tablet in 2006-7 was the commentary on the Sunday collect/opening prayer by Daniel McCarthy OSB. Cutting-edge scholarship met healthy spirituality. I am hence delighted that these commentaries have been revised and collected together.

Opening prayers transform individuals in community

Liturgy gathers individuals into a community and transforms them. At the heart of this process, when understood and applied at its best, is the opening prayer/collect in the Introductory Rites/Gathering of the Community.

Too often, in my experience, the collect/opening prayer is another little prayer read by the whole community from the pew-sheet in the still “cluttered vestibule” of the start of our eucharist.

If only communities would attempt the dynamics of the opening prayer as outlined in this book (p. xv):
1) Invitation to pray: Oremus, “Let us pray”,
2) Silent prayer of the community,
3) The opening prayer or collect given by the presider, which the rest of the assembly makes their own in the hearing,
4) And the ratification of the assembly’s “Amen”.

Often, this prayer read together from the pew-sheet has none of the polish nor even the structure of the great Western collects which once were learnt “by heart”, at least by Anglicans, as a wealth of inner spiritual resources. There is much criticism of the ICEL versions of the current Roman Rite, and new translations increasingly are approaching the Anglican style inherited from Thomas Cranmer. It is, hence, excellent to see that the preface to this book is by an Anglican bishop, Bishop John Flack. Not only do Roman Catholics and Anglicans share a common treasure, generally unrecognised, of these Western gems, but I have discovered that a number of them (currently inexplicably) are being prayed on the same days.

If you are interested, there is more on this approach to the use of the collect in Chapter 6 of Celebrating Eucharist.

For those who wish to grow more deeply into the wealth of the collect/opening prayer tradition and its scholarship, I can unreservedly recommend Appreciating the Collect: An Irenic Methodology by James G. Leachman (Editor), and the author of Listen to the Word, Daniel P. McCarthy (Editor)

Listen to the Word takes each prayer, gives its history, analyses its grammar and meaning, and then applies it to our spiritual life.

Listen to the Word is not a book to be read at one sitting, but to be savoured and lived week by week. In fact, if one reads more than one reflection at a time, one could quickly tire of the repeated, boilerplate introduction from one reflection to the next. Alongside the occasional typo, that would be the only criticism of this book, and I unconditionally recommend it to any who follow the Western liturgical tradition.

The websites mentioned in the book have impossible URLs:
http://web.mac.com/danielmccarthyosb/iWeb/DREI/Welcome.html
and
http://www.bsac.ac.uk/DREIseries/DREIindex.htm

As a gift to them, I have reduced these to
http://tinyurl.com/appreciatingliturgy
and
http://tinyurl.com/LiturgiamAestimare

(This website each week also provides a commentary to the week’s collect – current one normally found on the home page, and previous ones can be found by clicking the button top left “prayer reflections“)

collect – four parts

Published on October 21, 2008 in liturgy. Closed Tags: , , , , , , , , , , .

The collect (opening prayer) has four parts [not the parts I suspect you are thinking of - see * at the bottom of this post]. The collect I believe is a key to liturgy. Not as we so regularly experience it – a few seconds of just another little prayer near the start of a service, even read together from a printed pew-sheet for the day (reducing it to merely one part).

The word “collect” in Latin is collecta – gathering together. A collect gathers a litany (list of petitions) together into a final, single prayer. Or a collect gathers silent prayer together into a single prayer. This is what the collect is in the Entrance Rite – the Gathering of the Community. As it gathers the silent prayers of everyone it functions to gather the individuals into a praying community.

The bidding: The presider invites the community to prayer – “Let us pray”. Or in a more extended way, something like: “Let us pray in silence that God will make us one in mind and heart”.

The silence: This is the heart of the collect. This deep silent praying of the community is what the collect is collecting. No silent prayer and it is not a collect, there is nothing to collect. Without this silence the “collect” is reduced to merely another little prayer cluttering the vestibule at the start of our service.

The collect:* After sufficient silent prayer the presider proclaims the collect, gathering the prayers of the community, and articulating the prayer of the church – the body of Christ. As Christ’s body the collect is addressed in Christ’s name, on Christ’s behalf, to God the Source of all Being, in the power and unity of the Holy Spirit.

Amen: The community makes the collect its own by a strong “Amen” – “so be it”.

*The collect prayer itself can have up to five parts in its composition. There is more about that in the Gathering of the Community in Celebrating Eucharist. Some further history of the collect is included here.

The collect when well understood and aptly used can powerfully gather the community, deepen our prayerfulness, and profoundly express much at the heart of Christian spirituality.