Alleluia! Christ is Risen! A Homily for the Easter Vigil, 2011

 April 23, 2011


O God, as we celebrate the resurrection of your Son this night, we pray that, like the women at the tomb, we may encounter him in the proclamation of the word and at the Eucharistic feast. Amen

I remember well the first Easter vigil I ever attended. It was in Newburyport, MA and it was on a cold March night. In fact the weather that holy week was very much like the weather we’ve had this week. There was snow on Palm Sunday as I recall and although it warmed up through the week, Holy Saturday was chilly as well. What I remember most about that service, beside the wonderful readings, was the end. We were at St. Paul’s Church on Newburyport’s High Street, not far from downtown, but really in an area of the street that was dominated by Federalist mansions and a mix of nineteenth and early twentieth century commercial buildings. I remember that Fr. Cramer threw open the doors of the church at the end of the service and shouted loudly into the street—Christ is Risen! Continue reading

Between Cross and Resurrection

“… does the precise locus of this Saturday, at the interface between cross and resurrection, its very uniqueness as the one moment in history which is both after Good Friday and before Easter, invest it with special meaning, a distinct identity, and the most revealing light? Might not the space dividing Calvary and the Garden be the best of all starting places from which to reflect upon what happened on the cross, in the tomb, and in between? The midway interval, at the heart of the unfolding story, might itself provide an excellent vantage point from which to observe the drama, understand its actors, and interpret its import. The nonevent of the second day could after all be a significant zero, a pregnant emptiness, a silent nothing which says everything.” Alan Lewis, Between Cross and Resurrection: A Theology of Holy Saturday (Eerdmans, 2001).

The Sacrament of Love: A Homily for Good Friday, 2011

April 22, 2011

“There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.” (Jn 19:18).

We come today to remember the death of Jesus Christ almost two thousand years ago. It is part of the central drama of our faith that takes us to the heart of our human existence and to the heart of God. We come here to hear the story again, to reflect, through word, music, and gesture, on the meaning of that event; meaning that eludes us after all these years. For us, as Paul says, the cross is stumbling and scandal, the foolishness of God. Continue reading

Thou, who at thy Eucharist didst pray


O thou, who at thy Eucharist didst pray
that all thy Church might be for ever one,
grant us at every Eucharist to say
with longing heart and soul, “thy will be done.”
O may we all one Bread, one Body be,
through this blest Sacrament of unity.

Words by William Harry Turton, 1881. Full text here.

Good Friday, 2010

I approach Good Friday with awe and fear. The liturgy of the day and the day itself are full of raw emotion and powerful imagery. Reading the Passion according to St. John with its virulent anti-Judaism is deeply problematic and offensive. Then the solemn collects and the veneration of the cross seem to draw us into the crucifixion, bringing all of our emotional turmoil to the surface.

When crafting the liturgy for the day, I always struggle with finding the right tone: allowing us to recognize our sinfulness but also inviting us to experience the love of Christ. I sometimes think that we overdo it. As a layperson, I often experienced the emotionalism and emphasis on Jesus’ suffering as off-putting. Perhaps the epitome of that was once at All Saints’ Chapel in Sewanee, after the Stations of the Cross that took us up University Avenue. Soloists sang the Tomas Luis de Victoria setting of the Solemn Reproaches. It was beautiful but bone-chilling. The anti-semitism of the text, coupled with the historical context of its composition (16th century Spain, during the Inquisition) almost turned my stomach.

Still, there are things that must be there for me on Good Friday. Bach, for example, specifically, “O Sacred Head, Sore Wounded.” The German text, with English translation, is available here. The origin of the text is quite interesting. Paul Gerhardt, a German Lutheran pastor in the seventeenth century, adapted a Latin hymn from the fourteenth century. In some respects it is full of Medieval sensibility. The original focuses on aspects of Christ’s suffering. Gerhardt refocuses the hymn on the individual, for example, in this stanza (Alexander translation):

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

Whatever else Good Friday is about, the concluding prayer is a powerful message on this day:

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, we pray you to set your passion, cross, and death between your judgment and our souls, now and in the hour of our death. Give mercy and grace to the living; pardon and rest to the dead; to your holy Church peace and concord; and to us sinners everlasting life and glory; for with the Father and the Holy Spirit you live and reign, one God, now and for ever.

Amen.

Now my tongue the mystery telling

Now, my tongue, the mystery telling,
Of the glorious body sing,
And the blood, all price excelling,
Which all mankind’s Lord and King,
In a virgin’s womb once dwelling,
Shed for this world’s ransoming.

Given for us and condescending
To be born for us below,
He, with men in converse blending,
Dwelt the seed of truth to sow,
Till He closed with wondrous ending
His most patient life below.

That last night, at supper lying
’Mid the twelve, His chosen band,
Jesus, with the law complying,
Keeps the feast its rites demand;
Then, more precious food supplying,
Gives Himself with His own hand.

Word made flesh, true bread He maketh
By His word His flesh to be;
Wine His Blood: which whoso taketh
Must from carnal thoughts be free;
Faith alone, though sight forsaketh
Shows true hearts the mystery.

Therefore we, before Him bending,
This great sacrament revere;
Types and shadows have their ending,
For the newer rite is here;
Faith, our outward sense befriending,
Makes our inward vision clear.

Glory let us give, and blessing,
To the Father and the Son;
Honor, might and praise addressing
While eternal ages run,
Ever, too, His love confessing,
Who from Both with Both is One.

He loved them to the end: Homily for Maundy Thursday

April 1, 2010

Grace Episcopal Church

From time to time, I share with you some pieces of my Mennonite background. I do it occasionally, because it both helps you get to know me a little bit better, and because the very different Mennonite tradition from which I come is an important witness to the depth and breadth of the Christian tradition. Mennonites have a great deal to teach the larger Christian tradition.

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Collect for Wednesday in Holy Week

Lord God, whose blessed Son our Savior gave his body to be whipped and his face to be spit upon: Give us grace to accept joyfully the sufferings of the present time, confident of the glory that shall be revealed; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Amen.

Before 1662, the Book of Common Prayer did not include special collects for the weekdays of Holy Week. The collect for Palm Sunday was used throughout the week. This collect first appeared in the American 1928 Book of Common Prayer. The references to being whipped and spit upon point our attention forward to the events following Jesus’ arrest. The collects for Tuesday and Wednesday seem to be reflections on the passion. They connect Jesus’ suffering with our own.

I’m tempted to see a “modern” turn in this development; modern in the sense of modern individualism and emotionalism.