Marcus Borg's visit to Furman

I’ve been familiar with Borg’s work for years. I followed the activity of the Jesus Seminar in the 1980’s and 1990’s and I assigned some of his books over the years to students. We’ve been reading The Last Week as a Lenten Book Study at St. James this year and it has inspired lively discussions.

I’ve also attended lots of scholarly lectures by big names over the years and I was expecting a retread, a boring reread of a lecture given hundreds of times before. But Prof. Borg was different. I had the opportunity to join him and other colleagues for lunch. He was engaging, interested in us, our ideas, and experiences, and shared some of his personal life with us.

He was the same way in the lecture. Indeed he did say little that I hadn’t heard before. What was remarkable was the way he treated us as an audience and a congregation. Beginning and closing with prayer, and sharing his faith and his experiences with us was profoundly moving. It was one of the most memorable evenings of my life.

Tonight I had a follow-up conversation with some Furman students at our Canterbury meeting. I’m not teaching Bible this year, for the first time since the mid-90s, and discussing the historical evidence for the resurrection, and how we might think about the resurrection differently, or metaphorically, as Borg urges, was great fun and challenging.

You’ve heard of Kosher salt …

I came across this item a couple of days ago. Apparently, a conservative Christian who enjoyed watching cooking shows wondered why chefs always specified kosher salt in their recipes. He thought there ought to be an alternative. And he came up with one. The pathetic irony is that he apparently found an Episcopal priest to bless the salt–I hope he gets a percentage of the profits, too. There’s more about it here.

The Great Litany

Yesterday, our services began with The Great Litany. It has been the custom at St. James, and is the custom in many Episcopal Churches to use The Great Litany on the First Sunday of Lent. It is the first piece of the liturgy translated and published in English, prepared by Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Cranmer in 1544 for use in all English churches at a time when England was at war with France and Scotland. He drew on Medieval litanies as well as on Luther’s litany from 1529 and a Greek Orthodox version. Litanies of this sort were commonly used during public processions from the earliest centuries of Christianity.

The language and the sentiments expressed in it may sometimes seem archaic or alien to us, but the Great Litany with its several sections is more than a catalog of our sins and supplications. It expresses our profound dependence on God for all that we are and reminds us that in the end, everything in our lives and the world lies in the providence of God.

It’s not without its humorous moments, however. The rubrics (instructions) in the Book of Common Prayer tell us that the Great Litany “may be said or sung, kneeling, standing, or in procession.” Whatever the case, when we come to the request that “… it may please thee to strengthen such as do stand, to comfort and help the weak-hearted, and to raise up those who fall,”  we are often praying for ourselves.

If you didn’t get enough of it yesterday, there are a number of online versions available, including this one, which comes from St. Barnabas Episcopal Church, Falmouth, MA.