Tales from Canterbury - part VIII

Contemporary tradition; I am not sure if that is the best term but it came to mind and will have to work for now. Here I am resident in a community with a history dating to 597. This space and this faith are deeply rooted in tradition. That is a factor that makes the Anglican Church attractive to many people. The deep full history enriches the worship experience and provides a foundation for the spread of the faith to others.

Yet here we are in the year 2011. A period where many would suggest that traditions from a thousand years ago, or even a hundred years ago are out of touch with the realities of today. I find that nothing could be further from the truth.

Evensong tonight followed the usual pattern, one that has existed for centuries with little change. Every movement, song, and Scripture reading would be recognizable to someone from the eighteenth or nineteenth centuries. As is tradition, following the choir anthem, we pray for the Anglican Communion near and far, and for those in need. It was at that moment that a tradition that is alive in a contemporary context became apparent to me.

The first of the intercessions offered this evening was to pray for those suffering the darkness of depression. I was transformed from being attentive to being hyper-attentive. Two years and one month ago my sister ended her twenty five year battle with depression. I have forever been changed by that experience. Depression is a disease that is hidden and people are loath to discuss, like the disease itself depression hides in the darkness. This centuries old cathedral now resounded with prayers for this contemporary illness.

Lord Jesus Christ, who for love of our souls entered the deep darkness of the cross: we pray that your healing love may surround all who are in the darkness of great mental distress and who find it difficult to pray for themselves. May they know that darkness and light are both alike to you and that you have promised never to fail them or forsake them.

The disbelief of that morning two years ago as I learned of my sister’s death still resonates strongly with me. Feeling a total loss for direction that morning I remembered the words of a priest who has walked with me in my formation. She had shared with me advice that she had received at her own ordination; that advice was to make the Daily Office (Morning and Evening Prayer) your own, because there would be days that the Daily Office was the only thing you could hold on to. With the news of my sister’s death I had entered one of those days. For the next several weeks it was Morning Prayer, a tradition dating back more than 1,000 years, that allowed me to move forward each day.

Today hearing a prayer in a traditional service of Evensong for those suffering the darkness of depression, a very contemporary issue, made me realize that beneath the deep emotion and tears that I was experiencing I was supported by the love of Christ and the Anglican faith. A faith that is alive with contemporary tradition.

My prayer from Canterbury is that your days be filled with light,

for my brothers and sisters who are in darkness may you be reborn in the light.

Tales from Canterbury - part VII

Sunday was our first day with a full sung Mass at the Cathedral. We celebrate Eucharist every day, along with Matins and Evensong; however Eucharist is usually said, not sung, and any hymns are a cappello. Today the Mass included the Cathedral Choir, perhaps you can tell that I am overwhelmed by this choir.

The Eucharist is celebrated at the High Altar. When it is time for Communion the choir processes to the High Altar to receive first; this is not unusual otherwise Communion hymns become an issue. Now here is the difference, the choir did not process back to their seats.

Following the reception of Communion the choir ascended twelve steps above and behind the High Altar to the area known as Trinity Chapel. This is where the shrine to Saint Thomas Beckett stood prior to 1538 when King Henry VIII had it destroyed. From this lofty position above the High Altar the choir began to sing without accompaniment. The song choice was Psalm 150. During the administration of Eucharist the entire Cathedral reverberated with the voices of the choir and these words:

Hallelujah!

Praise God in his holy temple;

praise him in the firmament of his power.

Praise him for his mighty acts;

praise him for his excellent greatness.

Praise him with the blast of the ram’s-horn;

praise him with lyre and harp.

Praise him with timbrel and dance;

praise him with strings and pipe.

Praise him with resounding cymbals;

praise him with loud-clanging cymbals.

Let everything that has breath

praise the Lord.

Hallelujah!

High above the altar these words of praise rang out. There were no projection screen TVs, no praise band, no smoke machine, no flashing lights. Simply the sound of twenty seven pure voices singing praise to the Lord.

This simple act took my breath away.

Peace and Blessings from our Anglican home,

Tales from Canterbury - part VI

With Angels and Arch Angles,

Liturgy in the Cathedral has been flawless and wonderful. There are nine vergers employed full time at the Cathedral, as a comparison the National Cathedral in Washington has two full time vergers and five volunteers. These professionals see that the services are without unintended distraction.

Evensong, sung each day, has been blessed this past week with the choirs of Saint Martins in the Fields, and the University of the South Sewanee Tennessee. While these services are beautiful there is little space for active participation by the congregation. The service is sung by a priest, and the choir. The Creed and the Grace are the only active parts for the congregation. My own personal habits have involved services with more active involvement. These services are asking for emotional and spiritual involvement.

The Cathedral Choir has been on holiday and that is why the talented voices of these other choirs joined us this past week. On Saturday the Cathedral Choir returned; and with Angels and Arch Angels the service was sung.

The Cathedral Choir consists of choir master, fifteen young boys and twelve men. The songs and chants of this choir are truly, as expressed by Saint Augustine, best described as “He who sings prays twice.”

With this choir in place I no longer felt the void of not actively participating in the Evensong service. I was deeply involved in the service, involved on a very spiritual level.

In liturgy there is definitely a place for congregational participation. There are also times when we should allow others to take us to spiritual spaces. Working with that balance and providing different experiences for different people and different times is a duty to not be taken lightly. Recognizing the gifts and ministries of others so this can be facilitated is important. Liturgy is after all, not for our own glory, but always for the glory of God.

Peace and Blessings in the continual worship of Our Lord,

Tales from Canterbury - part V

There has been so much violence in and around the Church. Very real examples of this were evident during a candlelight tour of the Cathedral Friday night. We stood on the site where Saint Thomas Beckett was martyred by his king in 1170. And we concluded our tour with prayers in Trinity Chapel; the site of the shrine to Saint Thomas Beckett that was destroyed by King Henry VIII in 1538. This site had been the destination of so many pilgrims that the stones are worn down from where they kneeled to pray. Unfortunately that violence continues today in so many forms.

As part of ordination clergy take a vow of obedience to the Bishop and the canons of the Church. Part of Friday’s discussion was around discipline as related to this vow of obedience. This discussion was lead by an evangelical Anglican bishop from Nigeria. The definition of discipline that was offered by many of our African brothers focused on rules, regulations, and punishment.

This is in contrast to the view of some of my American brothers and sisters. At least those I discussed this with are aligned with the thoughts of Arch Bishop Williams when he talked of how the word “discipline” comes to us from “disciple.” As a disciple we give ourselves fully. We follow the Church and the leaders out of love, not fear of retribution. As Nouwen said “power offers an easy substitute for the hard task of love.” I wonder if these divergent views of discipline come back to power versus love. The easy road versus the hard road?

Yes, violence seems to have surrounded the Church for centuries. Unfortunately it still exists around the Church, and sadly within it as well.

Our hope though lies in looking, listening and in prayer. As Canon Condry pointed out when showing the indentations in the stone where countless pilgrims kneeled at Beckett’s shrine, “With time, even stone is worn away by prayer.”

Peace,

Tales from Canterbury - part IV

Thursday was a day of experiential learning; and it was a truly amazing experience.

A bus took us to London where we crossed the meridian in Greenwich (think Greenwich Mean Time) had a quick view of Saint Paul’s, Westminster Abbey, Parliament, Buckingham Palace and the sights and sounds of this bustling city. Astounding to me in this city, with the energy and density of New York, there was not a single car horn to be heard. Perhaps English driver education teaches this, or perhaps there is a different ethos being exhibited.

Most of our day revolved around Lambeth Palace in London. This is the center of the Anglican Church. Here we ate lunch in the gardens, and toured the palace. The walls are lined with portraits of the succession of those who have served as Arch Bishop of Canterbury. These portraits tell the history of our Anglican Church.

Part of that history is the King James Bible, written in the common language - English. On display in celebration of the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible is a first edition Bible. Respect for protocol means that I do not have a photo of this very important book, though its image will be with me forever.

We were also treated to an audience with the Arch Bishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams. Arch Bishop Williams is warm and genuine. We received warm hospitality first in a discussion and then in afternoon tea. He is a servant leader in all the wonderful ways that we discussed earlier in the week. There is so much to pass along from our discussions but I will limit it to this one aspect. Part of our role, as Christians, is to look and listen. As reflected in the Gospel of John, Jesus tells us that he does what he see the Father doing. By looking and listening we can see what the Father is doing and do likewise. For the Arch Bishop this is best exemplified by faithfulness of prayer.

This was truly a day of experiential learning. We said Evening Prayer with the Arch Bishop in his private chapel in the crypt of Lambeth Palace. This holy space is where the Arch Bishop says Morning and Evening Prayer when he is in residence. This holy space has resonated with prayer for years and will continue to do so. This is part of how we look and listen.

We also look and listen by opening scripture and reading the Bible with the expectation of learning, with the expectation of being changed, and with the expectation of being converted. The Arch Bishop provided the reminder that none of us is the second person of the Holy Trinity so in our imperfection we must expect to always be converted.

Living as a Christian means living in community. As we look and listen we keep and build relationships in community. As we look and listen we can also build relationships beyond our Christian community. As we look and listen we keep and build our relationship with Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

As I reflect on this past day I am reminded that there were no car horns sounding in the busy city of London. I am also reminded that the Arch Bishop said to look and listen. He did not speak about talking, expressing yourself, or making yourself heard. Maybe the silence of the car horns says that all those thousands of drivers were looking and listening and did not need to be heard.

Peace and Blessings from Canterbury,

Tales from Canterbury Cathedral - part III

This third day of the Anglican Pilgrimage at Canterbury we discussed ordination vows and in that context - servant leadership. There were some teasers offered of future conversations that need to occur; if not in this setting then in a pub. Entertainment tonight was the movie “Of Gods and Men,” yes we are theology geeks. A fascinating story of persecution by terrorist extremists, and all too real.

The movie centered on intolerance and power. Interestingly we discussed power in relation to our conversation of servant leadership today. A stunning comment on this topic comes from Henri Nouwen:

“What makes the temptation of power so seemingly irresistible? Maybe it is that power offers an easy substitute for the hard task of love. It seems easier to be God than to love God, easier to control people than to love people, easier to own life than to love life.”

While our discussion on this quote focused on priests and bishops, this statement is universal in its appeal. I am intrigued at how this dynamic plays out in the work place, in the home, and in our communities?

“Power offers an easy substitute for the hard task of love” - that is something to work with for a long time. That is not to say that I can not begin to implement the concept before truly understanding it. Starting on the path of love should not be delayed by a lack of complete understanding, rather the journey will provide the illumination needed to continue and to be embracing of love. And the journey will provide the encouragement needed to avoid the easy road of power.

I am coming to see that Nouwen, with his usual illumination, has framed the love of Jesus in a manner that is easily applicable to our contemporary context.

Choosing love over power may mean that projects, activities, or events may not turn out exactly as you envisioned them, and that may be the joy of it. I am reminded of a father’s day breakfast about ten years ago (my son was quite young); the core menu of ham and eggs seemed harmless enough. However the ingredients also included olives, lemon juice, and green food dye. Through power my wife or I could have assured that the meal was prepared in a conventional manner. Through love I was served a memorable meal (that I hope to never repeat) and to this day that meal continues to feed me with great joy and love.

My prayer tonight from Canterbury is that you may be guided by love, and that you may love others fully.

In the love of Christ, Peace and Blessings,

Tales from Canterbury Cathedral - part II

Tuesday was the first official day of the Canterbury Scholars Program. It was a day of more formal introductions and study. There was time for a walk around Canterbury, as well as dinner at the Deanery.

One of our topics today was reading the Bible and our early memories of the Bible. I have come to realize that I was raised in a home that though we attended church we did not own a Bible. And I know that I am not alone in that experience. The Bible was read as part of church liturgy, but not at home and not by laity.

I was constantly reminded of the story of why Episcopalians like the Bible so much - they like the Bible because it quotes the Book of Common Prayer so often. That story tells much of how a person could be raised in the Episcopal Church and not read the Bible.

Several colleagues with Evangelical childhoods told stories of how the Bible had been used as a weapon to force a particular behavior. There were also challenges between kids to show how quickly you could locate a particular passage in the Bible. For some the Bible was read at family meals. One person from south Asia told of using the Bible to learn to read because it was the only book available.

A particularly strong story was told by one of our brothers from an African nation where persecution of Christians is still common. When he was a child thieves broke into his home and stole everything; every belonging was gone. Several days later the bag in which he kept his personal belongings was located. It was empty of all his toys and possessions. Empty except for the Bible that his mother gave him at age eight. The thieves had left behind the Bible. That Bible remains a treasure these decades later.

What became evident from our discussion is that as we read the Bible we often find questions rather than answers. These questions are a gift from God. So why do we resist receiving these gifts? Why do we resist the formation that occurs when we read the Bible?

This poem, shared with us by The Rev. Dr. Kathy Grieb, may help us to see how we can best learn to read the Bible, accept the gifts of questions that God gives us, and cherish the formation that occurs.

I ask them to take a poem

and hold it up to the light

like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside a poem’s room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.

They begin by beating it with a hose

to find our what it really means.

Billy Collins

May the Bible be for you a poem with which to dance.

Peace and Blessings from Canterbury,