Liturgy, Love, Questions & Pandemic

So, I've been meaning to write about this for a while now, but a question earlier today prompted me, like the Prophet Habakkuk, to sit down and "write it and make it plain."

For all of the Sundays in Lent and the days in Holy Week, I presided and preached at a service of Morning Prayer via Facebook Live. On Easter Day, I presided at a service of ante-Communion. This Sunday, the Second Sunday of Easter, I will return to Morning Prayer with Sermon. And, at the request of the bishop, I will be live-streaming all Sunday morning services and Wednesday evening Anglican Prayer with Anglican Prayer Beads from Christ Church, Milford's, Facebook page. 

I've been asked lots of questions - by laity and clergy - which include:

+ Why am I not presiding at Holy Eucharist?

+ Why ante-Communion or one of the Daily Offices? 

+ Aren't we a Eucharistic church? Isn't Eucharist at the center of our identity as Christians who are Episcopalian and Anglican? 

+ Aren't I concerned that people will want to "go back" to Morning Prayer and not Eucharist for the principal Sunday service of worship after the pandemic? 

+ Don't I know that there is this thing called "Spiritual Communion"?

And, my favorite question: 

Why should you, a priest, get compensated for something I, a layperson, can do?

That last question is my favorite because it is based on the assumptions that (1) only priests can preside at sacramental acts; (2) the only sacramental acts are those the church narrowly defines and controls; (3) there are not sacramental aspects of Scripture and Worship - that we only live our faith "by bread alone" - and that the true presence of Jesus is somehow absent apart from Eucharist.

(4) It is also based on the assumption that clergy, as leaders of and in community, function apart from the act of leading public worship; that their lives are not lives of prayer. And, we do it for the compensation.  
 

Nothing could be further from the truth - well, for the largest percentage of clergy, anyway.

The Presiding Bishop has written a short essay on his feelings about the matter. Here's the link. I encourage you to read it because I think it answers many of the questions I've been asked.

Here's where I am: I have decided not to preside at or partake of the elements of Eucharist until we can all be together again in one place and celebrate together as a community of faith.

Please do not hear that as anything other than what it is: This is an informed, carefully discerned, thoughtful, prayerful, theological position that is well with my soul. This is not a judgment on anyone who thinks differently. I hope those who hold other positions will not judge me for my position.

It really comes down to this: I am choosing to stand in solidarity and hunger and thirst with those who are also hungry and thirsty but do not have access to Eucharistic bread and wine.

I am choosing the sacramental nature of solidarity over the sacramental nature of bread and wine. I am choosing to break open Scripture so that we all might feed on and be nourished by The Word.

And, I am choosing to use my institutional and spiritual power in an attempt to empower the spiritual, sacramental and institutional lives of others during this time when incarnational presence as a worshiping community is not possible, all in one sacred place.

As I said, this is just me. I'm not arguing with anyone. I'm not judging anyone. 
 

You may think me wrong; that's okay with me. I've been in this position before with "Ashes to Go". I would be fine if the liturgy were done outside the church building. I don't like what I experience as separating the central liturgical act from the rest of the service of worship. 
 

I've been sharply criticized for it. So be it. 

Doesn't change the fact that Jesus loves me as well as those clergy who impose ashes at bus stops and bakeries and train stations. 

God knows what's in our hearts.

I also have an aversion to "Drive-by Eucharist/Distribution of Palms" and "Parking Lot Communion". 
 

It's not that I'm opposed to creativity or innovation. Some may remember that I'm the one who baptized a convert from Judaism in a hotel fountain during General Convention. And, some may also recall that I recently presided at a Civil Wedding via Zoom. 
 

Both of these liturgies were performed after careful thought and prayer and conversations with several bishops, priests, deacons and laity, some of whom were specialists in liturgy and church history. Neither liturgy was innovative and creative for the sake of innovation and creativity; rather it was with the utmost regard for the pastoral needs of the people and the tradition, rubrics, liturgy, and canons of the church. 

We made the decision over time and in community. 
 

It's important, as Anglicans, to be proactive vs reactive, which means praying and thinking things through, together, as a community of faith. 
 

I remember one woman, a priest who was first ordained a minister in another denomination and has never really embraced the Anglican Ethos, who decided, all on her own, to move the location of the baptismal font and ordered up a new "portable" baptismal bowl. 
 

She talked to a few folks about this novel (to her) idea that excited her. It's not that she was totally offbase. She wasn't, actually. What grieved me was that she totally missed the opportunity to educate the congregation (and, herself) about why we believe what we do and how that gets acted out in our liturgies. 

It became all about her and her insecurities and desperate need to be liked and her newly-found power to affect change on her own. It was very sad. 
 

And, the earth did not quake, the heavens did not fall, the stars remained in the sky, the planets are still in their orbits and I'm certain Jesus loves her every bit as much as He loves me. Maybe more.

Here's the thing: We Anglican/Episcopalians put the "common" (shared by, coming from, or done by more than one) in "common prayer". 
 

This is why I, for one, am so grateful that the bishop in this diocese has put a halt on liturgical creativity and innovation for the time being - until we can discern together liturgical adaptations not only for our present situation but how this honors our tradition and impacts our future.
 

What I love about this time in which there is not much to love is that it is given rise to so many questions. I love it that all assumptions are off the table and we are, once again, questioning why we do things and what we believe about what we do and say.

We like to say that Anglican liturgy is based on the principle of "lex orandi, lex credendi" (as we pray so we believe). We may have allowed ourselves to get a wee bit 'theologically flabby' over the years about thinking that through. This time of #stayathome and #shelteringinplace has provided us with time to more vigorously lift up and look under the foundations of our beliefs and the ways in which we pray what we say we believe.

There are two things I know to be true. The first is from Rainer Maria Rilke: 

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything.

And, the second, from St. Paul, is like unto it: 

"All things work together for the good for those who love God." (Romans 8:28).

In my moments of deep sadness about not being able to worship God together, I try to allow myself to think, instead, on the "new normal" that will emerge from the formerly empty tombs of our church buildings.

I'm remembering the words of the prayer we always say at the Great Vigil:

" . . . that which had grown old is being made new, and all things are being brought to their perfection through Jesus Christ."

May it be so.

Amen. Alleluia!