Bless This Food

Maundy Thursday is the commemoration of the institution of the Eucharist. This so-called last supper Jesus had with his friends, I think, seems to have been an ordinary meal rather than a Seder. In an ordinary meal, the host, usually the head of the house, started the meal with a cup over which was said a blessing, then bread was, blessed, broken and shared which began the actual meal. When the meal was over, the host offered another cup, called the Cup of Blessing which ended the meal. Here’s what Luke says that makes me think this:

When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God." After taking the cup, he gave thanks and said, "Take this and divide it among you. For I tell you I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes." And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me." In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you. Luke 22:14-20

There is also no mention of the bitter herbs and other items that made up a Seder. Why do I think this matters?

I think there is another meaning to the Supper besides the institution of a ritual meal in the context of worship. I propose that Jesus is telling his friends, “Any time you eat a meal,” i.e. break bread and drink wine--the usual table drink--”remember this time we ate together. Remember me and all I said and did and be glad.”

If I’m right, it could give a whole new spin to “saying grace,” or “saying the blessing” at our meals. We might move away from the pro forma recitation of some mumbled words and actually thank God for his love as shown in its completeness in Jesus.  Something on which to reflect as we continue our trek through the Holy Week observances and emerge different on the other side.

PS. Wonder what blessing Jesus said. A common Jewish blessing was something like this: Blessed are you, Lord God of Creation. Through your goodness, we have this [bread, wine] to offering, which earth has given and human hands have made. Neat huh?

Peace, Jerry

What's In A Name?

It’s easy to think liturgical practices or customs associated with them have been around forever. In The Episcopal Church, there are still people who only knew the 1928 Book of Common Prayer, the guide for such things. Even though it was replaced in 1979, many still long for the 1928 customs and practices because “that’s the way it always was.” But, of course, anyone with a historical perspective knows that’s not the case about much of anything.

Sunday is Palm Sunday. At least it would be called that if we were still observing it as I did as a kid. Today it is more likely to be called something like The Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday, with an emphasis on Jesus’ suffering. Every since it began to be celebrated, it has involved the use of palms in a procession of some kind. Hence the Palm Sunday name. Observances certainly emphasize Jesus’ grand entrance into Jerusalem where he is proclaimed Messiah by the crowd. Why palm branches? Palm branches were a Jewish symbol representing triumph and victory. The crowd, no doubt, expected their deliverance by this donkey riding Messiah and, since he was thought to be God’s anointed, victory was certain. They waved palm branches as we do as well.

Like many customs of the Church, exactly when it began to be observed is unclear. The usual assumption is that it originated in the Jerusalem church sometime in the third or fouth century. We have good evidence that by the fifth century the observance had spread as far as Constantinople. In the sixth and seventh centuries there were some additions made to the practice which became the norm. Palms were ritually blessed before being used and the habit of having the procession in the evening gave way to a morning procession. In the eighth century, these practices became widespread in the Western Church.

The Sunday of the Passion begins what Christians have long called Holy Week. The Sunday service itself, condenses the services of the week into a single day. We celebrate triumph, we experience the Last Supper, we listen as the story of Jesus’ betrayal, crucifixion and death are retold. The more complete Holy Week will observe the origin of the Last Supper on Thursday night, Maundy Thursday. The next day will commemorate Jesus’ betrayal, trial, abandonment by friends, crucifixion, and death. We call it Good Friday because without Jesus’ death, there could be no resurrection in glory. Though a painful day, it looks forward to the third day.

We can think of the Sunday of the Passion as an occasion to reflect on the last week of Jesus’ life on earth. We can reflect on what was accomplished in his suffering and what was made possible by his resurrection. Perhaps as we reflect we will think about how quickly the crowd went from shouts of praise to demands for his death. We can use this week to rethink how quickly we may be prone to turn away from the demands of faith, too. It could make Easter Sunday an entirely experience for us.

Holy Lent, Jerry

Scandal!

Dinner parties are always something of a celebration. Usually we’re just celebrating our friendships with others. But, now and then, the occasion is very special and the celebration calls for something equally special. That’s the scene in this coming Sunday’s Gospel. Mary, Martha, and Lazarus have invited Jesus to a dinner party to celebrate Jesus having raised Lazarus from the dead. 

We can understand that impulse can’t we? Even dramatically smaller good deeds done by a friend urge us to respond in some way. With the restoration of a family member, because of Jesus’ love for him, the urge to respond knows no bounds. To prove that, when everyone is gathered, Mary takes a pound of “pure nard” and anoints Jesus’ feet. Spikenard, from which nard was extracted, was a very expensive aromatic ointment. Because of its value, it was typically kept in an alabaster box, also an expensive material. Just how expensive was this anointing? A pound of nard in Mary’s time was worth a year’s income!

Not only does Mary offer this precious ointment, she humbles herself at Jesus’ feet to anoint them and then wipes his feet with her hair. As the full bloom of the sweet nard fills the house, no one could have missed the radically intimate and sacrificial offering Mary has made. I’m certain the conversation came to an abrupt halt as everyone watched this sensual and extraordinary gift. Of course, some of that silence may have resulted from the forbidden nature of a woman actually touching a man who was not family, never mind touching the feet and wiping with her hair. To everyone except Mary, such boldness was unthinkable.

How could all who witnessed this failed to be touched? You would have been; I would have been. Sometimes when I think about this incredible act, I almost tear up at her devotion and love. Of course, not everyone was touched. Judas ruins the moment by complaining the nard could have been sold and given to the poor. And it surely could have. As I write this, Catholic Cardinals have gathered from around the world in what can only be described as the splendor of the Sistine Chapel to elect a pope who will reign from the extravagance of St. Peter’s. All that money associated with those two buildings could have been spent on the poor too. The cost of this gathering and the cost of the papal garments the new Pope will wear could have been given to the poor. In the novel The Shoes of the Fisherman, the newly elected and reluctant Pope makes it clear he intends to begin to divest the Church of its wealth for the sake of those in need. A scandalous idea then and now.

This is always the tension we face as Christians. We feel driven to give our best in our buildings to honor our God and the passion and victory of Jesus. We use silver and gold vessels as a sign of our desire to show reverence to the consecrated bread and wine which sustains us spiritually. At the same time, we know we could use jelly glasses and paper plates with the cost of the silver and gold helping the poor. In some way, we must find it in ourselves to do both. To offer our nard while also multiplying loaves and fish to feed the hungry.

It is not an easy path and no matter how it’s walked we will be subject to criticism. However, the certain truth is that both these impulses--to honor with magnificence and to honor with service--are seen in the Gospels as valid. Balance, that must be that for what we strive. And, balance will always require sacrifice.

In thanksgiving for God’s generosity, Jerry

Today's New Word: Laetare

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you may remember during Advent I wrote about Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete Sunday is the third Sunday in Advent and has a counterpart during Lent: Laetare Sunday. Laetare is a Latin word that means “rejoice.” The commonplace name for this Sunday is Refreshment Sunday. No, it’s not a time when we expand our after service hospitality offerings. 

Thursday of the third week of Lent is the halfway point of the season. If we were keeping Lent as it was kept a couple of centuries ago, Lent would have been a painful and solemn time. Actual fasting would have taken place and we would have all felt the terrible weight of our sins day in and day out. Traditionally, the organ was never played during Lent. Hangings in the Nave were spare and somber, purple for the pulpit, lectern, and altar and all the crosses veiled in the black of mourning. You may have noticed an old tradition of no altar flowers has been resumed; instead we see sticks and a small bit of greenery.

Twenty days of deprivation and despair are hard to bear, and though technically, Sundays don’t require the rigors of Lent to be practiced, most Christians don’t make exceptions. Consequently, we’re tired and feel beaten up--if we’ve kept a Holy Lent. So, to prepare us for the final sprint, the organ was allowed to play. Flowers made their way back to the altar and the purple hangings gave way to rose hued ones. A passage often read on this Sunday gives the day its name, “Rejoice with joy, you that have been in sorrow,” from that great prophet and poet Isaiah. A one day and one day only reprieve. 

The point of Gaudete Sunday and Laetare Sunday is the same. We are provided with encouragement to continue our spiritual journey through the penitential aspects of both seasons. We’ll hear this coming Sunday the Gospel lesson of the Loving Father, usually known as the Prodigal Son. This poor selfish and sinful young man suffers for “a season” and then, humbly returns home, willing to be a servant in his father’s home. But, he discovers a loving parent who has been eagerly waiting for him to return and he is restored to his position as son. Do I need to make this point anymore clearly?

Be refreshed, Jerry

A Not So Simple Question

At the halfway point in Lent, here is the fundamental question: how will you be a different person on Easter Day as compared to Ash Wednesday?

Holy Lent, Jerry 

(With a nod to Bishop Johnson and his sermon on “radical transformation” this past Sunday.)

The Great Litany

This past Sunday, most Catholic, Anglican, and Lutheran Churches, along with a smattering of other churches, began the liturgy with The Great Litany. One of my “things” is I like to know why we do something and how it started. Here’s the word on The Great Litany.

Litanies, a kind of call and response prayer, is much older than this particular litany. The form is a petition of some kind, followed by a response. Litany comes from the ancient Greek and means supplication. An early one in the Western Church was the Kyrie (Lord have mercy etc). Typically it was chanted over and over in a liturgical processions and became an “official” practice in 529. In the fifth century processions through towns or villages became a popular pious practice and the Kyrie and other prayers were chanted or sung during them.

The Great Litany first appears in 1544 and was written by Thomas Cranmer during the English Reformation. Since all the liturgy was in Latin, Cranmer’s English treatment of the Litany was the first Latin prayer translated into English to be used in worship. He based it on the Sarum Missal which is a version of the Roman Rite, one of the earliest forms of the Divine Liturgy. Cranmer also borrowed from Martin Luther’s litany and because the Roman Rite is very similar to the Byzantine Rite used in the Orthodox Church, some parts of the litany date from the third century. There are even some parts of the prayer that are similar to Solomon’s prayer in I Kings.

Cranmer was following Henry VIII’s orders when he made this translation and revision. Henry noticed that the people were not joining in when the Litany was chanted in Latin. He thought the reason was the people “understode no parte of suche prayers or sufferages as were used to be songe and sayde.” He ordered Cranmer to translate it so there would be “set forthe certayne godly prayers and sufferages in our natyve Englishe tongue.” It is usually sung to the same chant Cranmer wrote for it.

In 1672, Anthony Sparrow wrote regarding the Great Litany: “In the beginning it directs our prayers to the right object, the Glorious TRINITY. For necessary it is, that we should know whom we worship. Then it proceeds to Deprecations, or prayers against evil; lastly, to Petitions for good.” And if you were paying attention last Sunday, you noticed the supplications touch on everything, every part of life.

Most parishes that use it, do so only on the second Sunday in Lent. Others use it on all but the fourth Sunday, so called “refreshment Sunday.” The Orthodox Church uses it every Sunday! Whenever we use it, it reminds us that we long for God’s intervention and involvement in all aspects of our life--aspects that this ancient prayer enumerates.

Holy Lent, Jerry

History of Ash Wednesday

Like so many practices in Christianity, pinpointing the exact beginning of the practice can be difficult. Ash Wednesday ashes is one such tradition. We know Ash Wednesday was originally called dies cinerum which means “day of ashes.” And we know the first known mention of dies cinerum is found in a early copy of the Gregorian Sacramentary from at least the 8^th century. This is the book used by the priest at the altar which not only contains the words of the liturgy, but notes of various kinds useful to the clergy. Our priests use one each Sunday. 

A mention is one thing, a description is another. The mention in the Sacramentary tells us the custom was well established by the time the book was compiled, which was sometime around 781 and 791. The service book of the Roman Church was the nucleus of this book which was ordered by Charlemagne for his kingdom. Gregory, for whom the book is named, was the first Pope of the Middle Ages whose reign was 590-604. It is a fact that Gregory, one of the few Popes who is called the Great, did a good deal of liturgical reform. Consequently, the practice might be at least a century older than the service book.

Before this time, ashes had been used in a ritual with the Order of Penitents as early as the 6^th century. A Spanish rite called for the sign of the cross to be made on a gravely ill person when admitting that person to the Order. The Order of Penitents were laity who had committed grave sins, who confessed their sins to the bishop and were assigned a penance that was to be carried out over time. While they worked out their penance, they had special places in church and wore special clothes to indicate their status of penitent sinners. Likely ashes were used at the beginning of the ritual for more than just the ill.

As I said above, a mention is one thing, but how was the day of ashes observed? The earliest record we have is by an Anglo-Saxon abbot, Aelfric (955-1020). In his Lives of the Saints he wrote, “We read in the books both in the Old Law and the New that the men who repented of their sins bestrewed themselves with ashes and clothed their bodies with sackcloth. Now let us do this little at the beginning of our Lent that we strew ashes upon our heads to signify that we ought to repent of our sins during the Lenten fast.” 

We can easily assume Aelfric is describing, not our small sign of the cross in ashes on the forehead, but ashes poured or strewn on the head--which would have been the ancient practice in Judaism. The historical record indicates that originally, only men had ashes poured on their heads while women had the sign of the cross made on theirs. Of course, at some point, this became the universal practice. Ash Wednesday slowly became widespread and by the end of the 11^th century, Pope Urban II called for the custom to be practiced throughout Christendom.

The words that are spoken as the ashes are imposed, “dust you are and to dust you shall return” are the words of God spoken to Adam and Eve after they disobeyed. The ashes are to remind us of our sinful tendencies and our need to repent.

You might wonder about the source of the ashes. Tradition requires that the palms from Palm Sunday of the year previous be burned and their ashes used.

Holy Lent, Jerry