Tag Archives: Divine Office

Homily: “Religion and Angels”

Offered by the Rev. Matthew C. Dallman for the Parish of Tazewell County on the Feast of Saint Michael and all Angels, 2016.

We come in the liturgical year to the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels. This feast day enjoyed great popularity in medieval England, and the wider British lands of Wales, Scotland and Ireland, as well. So much so that it came to be known as “Michaelmas,”—“Michael’s Mass”—with the same shortened treatment that Christmas, or “Christ’s Mass,” received in popular piety. It was also important because it was a turning point in the English economy each Autumn, for it was seen as the official end of the harvest season, and hence new servants were hired, debts paid. Also, the universities began their terms after this day. One of my seminaries, Nashotah House, still calls its fall semester, “Michaelmas Term.”

Michaelmas showed up, as Church festivals often did (and still do), on the dinner table. It was customary to eat goose on Michaelmas Day; there was a kind of bread called “St Michael’s Bannock” that is a relative of the scone; and Michaelmas, according to English folklore, was “last day that blackberries should be picked. It is said that on this day, when Lucifer was expelled from Heaven, he fell from the skies, straight onto a blackberry bush. He then cursed the fruit, scorched them with his fiery breath, spat and stamped on them and made them unfit for consumption! And so the Irish proverb goes: ‘On Michaelmas Day the devil puts his foot on blackberries.’” There is even a “Michaelmas Daisy,” a kind of Aster whose color ranges from deep pink to light purple. With the Weiner Roast last evening outside the vicarage at All Saints’ as part of our Michaelmas revelry, we participated in an age-old festival and added—with hot dogs and s’mores and the rest—a particularly American spin.

Three years ago, as a lowly seminarian, I was invited to preach on Michaelmas. In conversations with the Rector of the Parish in the week leading up to the Feast, I indicated to him that I had become surprisingly enthralled with the subject of Angels. Hearing my enthusiasm, he invited me to do a Sermon Series, which I gladly accepted. One of the bits of research was to ask my then eight-year-old daughter Twyla, “What do you think angels are all about?” What she said was, “Angels are all about God.”

As I said then, and I say again now, I do not think I could express it any more succinctly. Angels are all about God.

Angels are all about God in two ways. The first way Angels are about God is because they are around God, who is sitting on His throne. Angels are serving and worshiping God, the countless throngs of angels that stand before God to serve Him night and day, beholding the glory of his presence— “day and night they never cease to sing, ‘Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!’” (Rev 4:8). Lest that sound like a fanciful sentiment, do understand that the Church has long understood the purpose of what we call Morning and Evening Prayer—traditionally called the “Divine Office” and a central pillar of our religion—to be pure praise of the type that the Holy Angels sing unceasingly in their ministry; so that in Morning and Evening Prayer, even three people in a chapel on a quiet weekday evening, we join the Angels in their unending chorus of praise. Because our prayer joins with the chorus sung by the angels, we are around the Throne of God in Morning and Evening Prayer.

The second way angels are about God is in their identity. The meaning of angels is not found in who they are, for all we can say is that they are spiritual beings; the meaning of angels is found rather in what they do. Angels are messengers that announce—that is what “angel” means. What they do is what they are named. For example, Michael means “who is like God?” because he confronted prideful, puffed-up Satan with that very question. Satan, another angel, means “the opposer” or “the accuser” because of his accusing activity toward God. Saint Michael is ever a reminder that when we are puffed with pride, like Satan and his unholy angels, we will fall, and continue to fall until we become humble, at which point we are able again to praise God and receive his blessings. When we have humility, another pillar of our religion, we have angels to thank.

It is through humility that we can receive and respond to the message brought to us by angels. The good or holy angels, being messengers like the Angel Gabriel, who brought to Blessed Mary the message that she was to become the Mother of God, pending her free consent—they disclose God’s good news of salvation and vocation in ways that we can perceive and respond to. God’s will for us, who He wants us to be, becomes available to us through the ministry of angels. Whenever we understand anything about God—that is, about reality, because faith’s name for reality is God—we have an angel to thank. Angels translate God’s message to us. God’s message, which is His love, resides in its fullest sense in “light inaccessible,” so the angels render that light accessible to our minds. All revelation we receive—whether in life’s peak moments, life’s valley moments, or life’s mundane moments—come from angels.

This led perhaps the most celebrated Christian theologian of the Western Church, Saint Augustine (who died in the early 5th century) to remark that “Every visible thing in this world is put under the charge of an angel.” Is that not a staggering thought? Every perceivable thing in this universe is put under the charge of an angel, and angels are all about God. With the contemplation of this truth, all of reality lights up, and all of creation dazzles like the waving robes of those whose faces see God. How appropriate, then, are Jacob’s words from our first reading, when he awoke from his sleep: “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is truly the gate of heaven.”

Icon by the hand of Monica Thornton.

A Prologue Office of Praise: Antelogium laudis

For the praise and glory of his Name, for our good, and the good of all his holy Church.

PDFs: noted version | said version.


Preces

Officiant    O Lord, open thou our lips.
People     And our mouth shall show forth thy praise.

Officiant    O God, make speed to save us.
People     O Lord, make haste to help us.

Officiant    Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.
People     As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

Officiant    Praise ye the Lord.
People     The Lord’s Name be praised.

 

Jubilate Deo, omnis terra
(Psalm 100)

O be joyful in the Lord all ye lands *
serve the Lord with gladness and
come before his presence with a song.

Be ye sure that the Lord he is God;
it is he that hath made us and not we ourselves; *
we are his people and the sheep of his pasture.

O go your way into his gates with thanksgiving,
and into his courts with praise; *
be thankful unto him and speak good of his Name.

For the Lord is gracious, his mercy is everlasting; *
and his truth endureth from generation to generation.

Glory be to the Father and to the Son *
and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be *
world without end. Amen.

 

Benedicite, omnia opera
(Prayer of Azariah; abridged)

O all ye Works of the Lord bless ye the Lord: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

O ye Angels of the Lord bless ye the Lord: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

O ye Heavens bless ye the Lord: *
O ye Waters that be above the firmament
bless ye the Lord.

O all ye Powers of the Lord, O ye Sun and Moon,*
O ye Stars of heaven bless ye the Lord.

O ye Showers and Dew, O ye Winds of God, *
O ye Fire and Heat bless ye the Lord.

O ye Winter and Summer, O ye Frost and Cold, *
O ye Ice and Snow bless ye the Lord.

O ye Nights and Days bless ye the Lord: *
O ye Light and Darkness bless ye the Lord.

O ye Lightnings and Clouds bless ye the Lord: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

O let the Earth bless the Lord: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

O ye Mountains and Hills,
O all ye Green Things upon the earth, *
O ye Wells, O ye Seas and Floods bless ye the Lord.

O ye Whales and all that move in the waters
bless ye the Lord: *
O all ye Fowls of the air, O all ye Beasts and Cattle
bless ye the Lord.

O ye Children of Men bless ye the Lord: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

O let Israel bless the Lord: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

O ye Priests of the Lord, O ye Servants of the Lord, *
O ye Spirits and Souls of the Righteous
bless ye the Lord.

O ye holy and humble Men of heart, bless ye the Lord: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

O Ananias, Azariah, and Misael, bless ye the Lord: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

Let us bless the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit: *
praise him and magnify him for ever.

 

Te Deum laudamus

We praise thee O God; we acknowledge thee to be the Lord. *
All the earth doth worship thee the Father everlasting.

To thee all Angels cry aloud, the Heavens and all the Powers therein; *
To thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry,

Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Sabaoth; *
Heaven and earth are full of the majesty of thy glory.

The glorious company of the Apostles praise thee. *
The goodly fellowship of the Prophets praise thee.

The noble army of Martyrs praise thee. *
The holy Church throughout all the world
doth acknowledge thee;

The Father of an infinite Majesty,
thine adorable true and only Son; *
Also the Holy Ghost the Comforter.

Thou art the King of Glory O Christ. *
Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father.

When thou tookest upon thee to deliver man, *
thou didst humble thyself to be born of a Virgin.

When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, *
thou didst open the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers.

Thou sittest at the right hand of God, *
in the glory of the Father.

We believe that thou shalt come to be our judge. *
We therefore pray thee help thy servants
whom thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood.

Make them to be numbered with thy Saints, *
in glory everlasting.

O Lord save thy people and bless thine heritage. *
Govern them and lift them up for ever.

Day by day we magnify thee, *
And we worship thy Name ever world without end.

Vouchsafe O Lord to keep us this day without sin. *
O Lord have mercy upon us, have mercy upon us.

O Lord let thy mercy be upon us as our trust is in thee. *
O Lord in thee have I trusted; let me never be confounded.

 

Kyrie, eleison

Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

 

Pater Noster

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy Name,
thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those
who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever. Amen.

 

Ave Regina Caelorum

Queen of the heavens, we hail thee,
Hail thee, Lady of all the Angels;
Thou the dawn, the door of morning,
whence the world’s true Light is risen:
Joy to thee, O Virgin glorious,
Beautiful beyond all other;
Hail, and fare well, O most gracious,
Intercede for us alway to Jesus.

Officiant    Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.
People     That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. Amen.


Concerning the Prologue Office of Praise

The Prologue Office of Praise is to be recited at least once per day; ideally it is memorized. It is commendable to follow the Prologue Office of Praise with the Holy Eucharist, or Matins or Evensong (Morning Prayer or Evening Prayer), or a significant period of silent prayer (i.e. Centering Prayer).

In this Office, the term “Officiant” is used to denote the person, clerical or lay, who leads; “People” denotes all gathered. When prayed by a group of people, the Officiant recites the first phrase of each of the seven prayers, and the People recite the rest. It is appropriate to stand for the Prologue Office when sung or said as a group.

A shortened form of the Prologue Office for families with young children is Preces, Jubilate, Kyrie Eleison, Pater Noster, and Ave Regina Ceolorum.

Icon of the hand of Monica Thornton.

The Divine Office, “Devotionalized”

It is my sense, based on wide observation, that the Divine Office, through well-intentioned use, has in fact become “devotionalized.” It has become optional, and it has become overly burdened by the dozens of variations through the Church. This, owing more to social and technological upheaval than to anything else, I suspect is true in many if not most places.

Let me speak more technically. By “devotionalized” I mean in the sense of Thornton’s theology of the threefold RegulaDivine Office, Mass, and Devotion, each having particular characteristics. Whereas, according to his reasoning, the Divine Office emphasizes the Father and the Mass the Son, Devotion emphasizes the immanent Holy Spirit, who guides and teaches in radically personal ways according to gifts, temperaments, and local conditions. So to claim “devotionalization” is simply to observe that instead of being a point of Unity in the Church Militant—that is, laypersons, clergy and religious praying in basically the same way—the Divine Office today signals our differences and our personal choices.

This may sounds like a perfectly reasonable development, and in many ways it is. People have different temperaments and spiritual dispositions, so it follows that allowing for liturgical variety is a good thing. Yet without a shared Divine Office form, what tangible unity in prayer do we ever actually have? None, in our current state, is the answer. Within the Anglican world, some do the Daily Office one way, others do it another way. Some do the Liturgy of the Hours, others use monastic forms, and even some use the Breviary. The American Prayer Book provides Rite I and Rite II, as well as a form for Individuals and Families. The Church of England provides a 1662 form, as well as a variety of options in Common Worship. All to the good, yet where is our Unity, then? Variation upon variation of Morning and Evening Prayer ridicule the very claim of “common” anything.

It is always instructive to look to Jesus Christ’s primary teaching on prayer. Amid his example of devotion to a variety of people around him, as well as his eucharistic command, we must always remember that the only prayer he directly taught was the Our Father, and the first Christians used it as the exemplar of corporate set-prayer. That is, the basis of the Divine Office in both scripture (Matthew 6:9-13 and Luke 11:2-4) and tradition (Didache, chapter 8) is the Our Father. It is set-prayer—a formula for eschatological praise by His children. Seen, as the Church always has, as both an actual prayer and an exemplar for prayer to the Father (and hence, liturgy itself), any such prayer which seeks to have a transcendent emphasis beyond our conditions of time and space must follow its established pattern. In short, that pattern is 1. invariable, 2. eschatological, 3. objective, and 4. corporate. Because the Our Father is each of these, it follows that the Divine Office, when it is fulfilling its ascetical need, corresponds to these attributes.

The pattern of Devotion, on the other hand, is essentially the opposite on all counts. Devotion is infinitely variable, focused on and within particular context, largely subjective, and uniquely personal. Seen scripturally in Jesus’s walk with the disciples on the Road to Emmaus and liturgically in the Passing of the Peace, our works of Devotion come and go, they vary constantly over one’s lifetime. There is an important point here: Devotion itself is not optional; but how we do Devotion is completely up to the individual. All is rooted in the biblical revelation, yet Devotion is quite different person to person, because people are quite different from one another. What reveals Jesus in the world, that is, the sacred humanity, for one person does no such thing for another person. We all have different gifts and talents, along with particular situations of family, locality, society, language, custom, etc. The Church teaches that the faithful are to be guided by the Holy Spirit in their Devotional life, and one size never fits all.

Hence, to “devotionalize” the Divine Office is to allow it to edge closer and closer to a performance of Devotion, away from the objective, invariable—and yes, away from the one-size-fits-all, because according to the Our Father, a very important building block of prayer in fact does fit all. When “devotionalized,” the ascetical emphasis shifts—from focus on the our frail offering of praise to the Father made perfect only through His Son and hence sheer transcendence—again, the Our Father—instead to the Holy Spirit immanent who binds us to Jesus through His creatures  in unique and wholly personal ways. The shift is from the radical Otherness encapsulated in the Our Father set-prayer to the radical Immediacy of “The Peace of the Lord be always with you” in infinite variation and manifestation. Ascetically these are both necessary but simply are not the same, and we confound the workings of the Body to think otherwise.

The Divine Office is devotionalized when, taken away from its sheer objectivity of set-prayer, it becomes made instead of options, variations and preferences both local, parochial, and personal. This or that “may be said,” on this or that day or season, or not said at all—we do this, we don’t do that; I personally do this, I do not like to do that, etc. How often do we hear this when people talk about the Divine Office!

Let me say, despite my last statement—this is all good and holy. People have particular needs, particular access to technology, particular day to day realities of family, work and transporation. It is a great gift that there continues to be a demand for daily prayer, and a hungering for something of ancient origin. No one who currently uses a personally designed approach to the Divine Office need stop what they are doing. My only plea is to stop calling it the Divine Office. Call it, instead, a “Daily Office of Readings,” something with a relatively stable structure but plenty of lattitude for change and variation. For is this not what we have, today?

Why do I ask we stop calling that the Divine Office? Only because one must so stretch and contort reason to draw actual, tangible correlations between the wildly variable Prayer Book Office forms of today and the Our Father prayer, that such a case collapses. And if we lose that correspondence and precedent, then we lose or at least obscure a fundamental connection between corporate prayer and Jesus’s own direct teaching.

Furthermore, I ask because there is a real need, if the doctrine of the Holy Trinity is to be used and applied rather than merely assented to and adored as an object, to establish and commit to a mode of corporate prayer that simply and unmistakably is oriented to the Father Almighty. That is, we must, if we are to be orthodox, have a fundamental place for praise intended for a Person who is radically, ontologically, and axiologically Other. Yes, the current Prayer Book Office forms mention prominently “Our Creator” and similar language, and yes we do so during the Mass, and certainly many people do so as a personal choice within their Devotion.

But that is not enough. The doctrine of the Trinity insists that such praise—to God who is truly incomprehensible and beyond our knowing—who created the cosmos—must be as elemental as Mass and Devotion. Transcendent praise must be as specific and liturgically obvious as mediatorial and immanent praise. Within the threefold Regula, the only foundation available is the Divine Office. Therefore it must be oriented strictly to the transcendent Father and therefore must take as paradigm the Our Father prayer and its attributes. Because if transcendent praise is not the focus and telos of the Divine Office, there simply is no where else within the Regula it can find such prominence.

Now, God is One; transcendence is not “better” than immanance. “We are compelled by the Christian verity to acknowledge every Person by himself to be both God and Lord,” to quote the Quicunque Vult. Yet with this shift, which has been several centuries in the making, nothing liturgically authoritative has replaced ascetical transcendence of the Divine Office properly understood, which along with ascetical immanance and mediation, are fundamental to our baptismal DNA.

Trinitarian doctrine dicates that we need to pray transcendently, immanently, and incarnationally—and there is no single method or mode to adequately cover all three in a single performative action. These three orientations, to be sure, synthesize to some degree through time, increasing spiritual maturity and growth in holiness, particularly in the Church Expectant, and full, complete synthesis is nothing sort of the heavenly Vision of God in the Church Triumphant. Yet in our fallen conditions of space and time, the synthetic and whole Vision of God is grasped through glass darkly, which means a sort of sequential “Now we pray to God Beyond, now we pray to God Incarnate, now we pray to God immanent”—exceptions of course abounding—not because of who God is but because of who we are as contingent beings.

Because of a devotionalized Divine Office, we have seen an attempt mitigate this shift by alteration elsewhere within the threefold Regula. Specifically there are those who try to turn the transcendent emphasis of the Mass, as it were, “all the way to eleven.” The renewed attention to Rite I in some quarters is an example. This attempt seeks to take the already meditatorial emphasis of the Mass and add to it a sense of still more “Otherness”—loading up that side of the balance. This is what the recent uptick in likewise well-intentioned advocacy for Ad Orientem is really all about, as well as the initatives toward a Latin Mass in Roman Catholicism. Hence the loss or diminishment of pure transcendence in the Divine Office is compensated for by a more transcendent Mass liturgic—or so goes the ascetical logic, all well-intentioned.

Yet in so doing, what gets thereby diminished is the mediatorial balance in the Mass between transcendence and immanence, found solely and wholly in Christ alone. The Mass, because it is anchored in the Real Presence of Christ, must be BOTH transcendent and immanent, which is precisely what is meant by “Incarnate Christ our sole mediator,” because he alone is both perfectly divine and perfectly man. It is to be both transcendent and completely everyday and local. This is not a case for or against Ad Orientem or Ad Populum; rather this is a plea to examine the underlying ascetical principles inherent in corporate response (prayer) to the Holy Trinity.

If we follow the approach of Martin Thornton, then the way to deal with the obvious fact that far too few Christians pray the Divine Office—in short, to accept pastoral reality—is to anchor all analysis in doctrine and theology rather than the often insidious “rationale” of the Church’s National Anthem—”But that’s the way we’ve always done it”—which usually avoids reality and celebrates corporate Self rather than God Almighty. Liturgical tradition and ritual history have their place, but that place must take a back seat to doctrine, theology and pastoral reality—which is to say, a back seat to Our risen and glorified Lord incarnate eternally as well as amid the conditions of time and space. To ask hopefully not too obnoxious a question—if we saw Jesus siting on a park bench in prayer just after dawn, do we really think we would find Him reading Morning Prayer from the 1979 Book of Common Prayer, or the Liturgy of the Hours?

My own remedy to devotionalization is the Divine Office of Praise, which grows out of Thornton’s analysis over nearly thirty years, his tentative suggestions in Prayer: A New Encounter, as well as my own analysis and devout experiment in my family and at my parish with a group of devout souls. Although it may seem like a radical rethinking, in truth what I propose is a rearrangement. The Cranmerian form of the “Daily Office,” as well as anything similar to it, such as the “Liturgy of the Hours,” I refer to now as The Daily Office of Readings.

For Anglicans, the Daily Office of Readings will look very familiar, and this is intentional. Cranmer was on to something, and his Benedictine (and perhaps Cistercian) ascetical insights were brilliant. Yet we, the faithful People of God, are no less at the same point in the pilgrimage as Saint Benedict was when he wrote his Regula than we are at the same point of Cranmer when he wrote his. Social conditions around Cranmer were radically different than the social conditions around Benedict, and our social conditions today are radically different as well. We need to find what Martin Thornton called “Unity in the Church Militant.” We used to have it through the original Books of Common Prayer. But it has been lost over the centuries as the Cranmerian form, and all like it, have become devotional options rather than our anchor in daily togetherness.

In chapter 2 of his magisterial work, The Liturgy of the Hours in East and West, Robert Taft writes, “The first explicit, unambiguous reference to a system of daily prayer in the primitive Church is Didache 8, which gives the Matthean ‘Our Father’ with the doxology ‘For yours is the power and the glory unto ages,’ followed by the rubric, ‘Pray this three times a day.” He then proceeds over the subsequent 360 fascinating and informative pages to effectively ignore both that fact and any ascetical consequence it might have.

If you boil down my argument, it is essentially to stop ignoring the practice of the New Testament Church. It is time to treat the Divine Office as Jesus and the first Christians did—as a faithful elaboration of the Our Father. That means a Divine Office that is simple, memorizable, eschatological, invariable and objective. Let a Divine Office of Praise, in its ten minutes of doctrinal and ascetical glory, be the anchor of Unity in the Church Militant. All Christians can do this Divine Office—laypersons both young and old, deacons, priests, bishops, and even religious.

This does not mean abandoning our weighty tradition, for we can and should continue to use a Daily Office of Readings, or any similiar form, as we are able to—many are not, yet clergy often are required to as part of their ordination vow, and religious as part of their four-fold or seven-fold pattern of daily prayer.

My view is that If a primitive, invariable Divine Office form — the Our Father — worked for the first Christians living into the staggering experience of Pentecost, then I see no theological reason for anyone to insist that a form analoguous to it cannot work for us today.

 

“Some Pastoral Thoughts on Revision of the Office”

By MARTIN THORNTON
Prism (April 1961): 3-7.
Transcribed by Matthew Dallman

The ideal of revision set forth in the Preface to the Book of Common Prayer is a synthesis of orthodox tradition and particular pastoral needs, and this ideal is closely linked with the ancient, if but recently rediscovered axiom that liturgy must evolve from the experience of the worshipping community, which is itself living tradition. The most important of all factors, therefore, tacitly but not explicitly recognized by Anglican revisers, is to discover not what this liturgical or that parish priest would like to do, but what the faithful are in fact doing. This actual pastoral practice must then be subjected to the tests of scholarship and pastoral needs theologically expressed. Now what an increasing number of the faithful are doing is this: they are beginning to understand the value of the daily Office both as an expression of their membership of the corporate Body and as a support to their personal prayers. Some are joining in the public recitation of the Office in their parish churches whenever possible, but because of the contingencies of modern life, they are much more often reciting it privately. They find the present Offices far too complex, far too long and thus out of proportion in their total Christian lives, so they begin with the Versicle “O Lord Open . . . ,” end with the third collect, and omit the lessons, which, since the laity are under no canonical obligation to say the daily Office at all, they have every right to do. How, then, does this practice stand up to the tests of tradition and true pastoral theology? I submit the view that it stands up far better than the 1662 scheme plus the current Lectionary. But of all aspects of Common Prayer, it is the daily Office which most needs the stamp of uniformity and authority.

Let us first consider the objections to the present position which this state of affairs presupposes. The overall fact against which the faithful are subconsciously rebelling is the old inability of official Anglicanism to make up its mind what the daily Office is supposed to be for. All with agree that, in the total Christian life, we must confess our sins, say our prayers, make our petitions and thanksgiving, read, study and meditate on the Scriptures, and offer our corporate praise to God Almighty as members of Christ. But you cannot do all that at once, you cannot get it all into one “service,” and even if you could—by some supreme feat of spiritual gymnastics—it would only accentuate the error that Christianity is something that happens at set times in church instead of being an integrated life based on a foundation of prayer, of which the Office is an essential part.

But if Anglicanism cannot decide what the Office is, tradition is quite firm upon the point: it is the daily, objective, corporate offering of praise to God the Father through Jesus Christ, it is a partaking in the eternal praise of the Church Triumphant by the Church Militant, and its unchanging, and I should say unchangeable, basis is the Psalter. In pastoral terms the Office thus becomes the practical expression of our unity in Christ of which the Eucharist is the ontological basis. Pastoral history and pastoral tradition teaches that this unity within the Church Militant must find expression, thus the departmentalism of the medieval, and modern Roman Church, is offset by the universality of the Rosary. For it is the Rosary, authorized by a long series of Popes, which alone forges a unity between prelate, priest and peasant; which attempts to heal the divisions between monks, friars, clerics and laity all doing different things out of a conglomeration of missals, breviaries, primers, mass-books and diurnals. But the Anglican expression of pastoral unity is not the Rosary but the Book of Common Prayer; we believe in a totally united Church without a clerical caste saying different prayers from the laity; we believe the bond of unity to be the fundamental pattern of the Catholic Church which does not need to be artificially glued together by popular devotions, however valuable they may be as such.

If it is admitted that, because of canonical requirements, the daily Office is really a priestly thing and does not concern the layman at all, then we have overthrown one of the most creative of all Reformation principles, and all is lost: we cannot even fall back on the Rosary. But if, by bold and sensible revision, we encouraged more and more laity to use the daily Office, I believe we would regain that vital spiritual solidity through which it pleases God to work his miracles. Here would be a living unity against which divergences of ceremonial, vesture and church decoration would sink into insignificance. But, as we have plainly seen, “revision” is barely necessary, all we need is rather authorization and re-arrangement, which boils down to no more than an official acceptance of pastoral facts as they are.

Under authorization it need only be said, plainly, that the Office begins where we all begin it and ends with the third collect, and it would be an advantage either to eliminate the alternative canticles or to give clear direction as to when each is to be used: in the Offices, of all things, loyal Churchmen do not want to be bothered with personal choice. We need, in fact, exactly to reverse the catholic policy of 1928.

Under re-arrangement I suggest that Scripture reading be taken out of the Office altogether and put in its proper place with the Christian life, which is when you have half-an-hour to spare, not when you have to catch a bus. If, in spite of the fact that this is what the Church is doing, this proposal is considered too revolutionary for formal authorization, I still maintain that it stands up to the tests of ascetical theology and common sense. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when the laity were generally illiterate and books rare and expensive, there was a good deal to be said for reading the Bible to them. But the modern laity are growing up, they can read for themselves, and with advanced education, plus the critical Biblical upheaval of the last century, they are no longer content merely to read. The modern need is for serious study and meditation which is quite incompatible with listening to six or eight isolated episodes from both Testaments in three minutes. If something like the current Lectionary is needed at all, some official scheme akin to those offered by the Bible Reading Fellowship would be much more compatible with modern needs. From the lay point of view, the consecutive lectionary has been long since redundant; and because of it the Office itself has been neglected. For the priest it is an infuriating burden. Were it decided that any priest or laic should be canonically obliged to follow an official daily scheme of Biblical study, then let them recite the Office worthily and pursue their canonical studies at some more suitable time. Nothing would be lost and a good deal gained.

Allow me to attempt to forestall three obvious objections to this scheme which are bound to arise. First, certain of my Evangelical brethren will tell me that the consecutive daily reading of the Scriptures is the whole purpose of Morning and Evening Prayer, which are not “Offices” in the sense I assume; that the psalms and canticles are little more than a frame to contain the lessons. I reply that if that is the case are not the psalms and canticles rather a nuisance? would it not be better simply to read, expound and meditate of the Scriptures?—which is exactly what I have suggested. But in all charity I am inclined to the view that, in the type of parish I have in mind, loyal daily attendance for this purpose seems a little remote. I hope I am wrong.

Secondly, I will be told that I am thinking only of a faithful, and possibly eccentric, minority—of the Remnant—and that I have no thought at all for the “ordinary congregation” or for “evangelism.” To this I reply that I am not thinking of the Office of the Remnant but of the Office of the Church, and if the expanding Remnant is the only body at present loyal to the Prayer Book scheme, then that is both regrettable yet encouraging. And I can only repeat that the one channel of creative evangelism is the Church being true to itself. So far as the “ordinary congregation” is concerned, these proposals need in no way to conflict with present practice. They need in no way interfere with “Sunday Evensong” except in so far as they regard the Office as what the Prayer Book plainly says it is: two-fold, morning and evening, daily throughout the year. The fatal error here, blatantly made in the 1928 revision, is to think of a “Sunday service” which can be modified for weekdays, instead of thinking of a daily Office which might be elaborated for Sundays. It is thinking in terms of an isolated congregation instead of an ever-living Church. On Sundays the Office could be said or sung, after which the Scriptures could be read, preached, expounded and prayed about, all of which seems a much more logical sequence.

If, to the cause of “evangelism,” a parish needed mission services, then let us by all means have them, but not at the expense of prostituting the Office of the Church. By no possible stretch of imagination can the Office be converted into such a service, and I fail to see any great value in anyone saying one Office out of every fourteen. If the present daily pattern fails by trying to do four different things at once, little can be gained on Sunday evenings by trying to do seven things at once.

The third objection is that the Office, by its very nature, ought to be said in common, and not recited privately. That is surely the ideal, but to stretch a point here on the grounds of pastoral need is trivial compared with the alternative of throwing over the whole idea of the common Office of the one Church. And, indeed, there may even be advantages. Admitting the ideal, there is much to be said for the Church’s Office as the only truly worthwhile form of “family prayer,” and when we are so constantly exhorted to “relate religion with life,” or to “carry the Church into the world,” recitation on trains, buses and in the tea break, could be more subtly pervasive than we imagine. What we lost in the choir we would gain on the underground.

To return to the fundamental point that nobody can just “revise” an Office with regard to the pastoral facts, without noting what is actually happening; the fundamental point that is, that liturgy must evolve; one single, simple step is all that is immediately required. Let authority plainly state that all that is now said daily is to continue to be said daily, but that the lessons may be read at any convenient time. The canonical position of the priesthood would be much the same, except that the Scriptures could be read more intelligently and the daily Office of praise offered more worthily. The laity would be encouraged to use the Office to the glory of God and to their own spiritual advantage, but without feeling that they were not doing the thing quite properly. For this is their present position which accentuates that priest-lay gulf which is the bane of other communions, and which traditional Anglicanism has ever been at pains to avoid.