In Praise of Richard Hooker

O God of truth and peace, who raised up your servant Richard Hooker in a day of bitter controversy to defend with sound reasoning and great charity the catholic and reformed religion: Grant that we may maintain that middle way, not as a compromise for the sake of peace, but as a comprehension for the sake of truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Today we celebrate one of the great lives, minds, and practitioners of Classical Anglicanism: Richard Hooker. His gift for applying rigorous logic in the service of the Faith was not motivated by anger or obsession, but by a love of the Truth – something greater than all our systems and techniques can adequately express. In all of his profound and at times challenging writing there always remains a basic humility, a reticence in the presence of the Divine Mystery. For this example of the Theologian’s “art,” we must needs be truly thankful in our polarized, emotionalized, and often woefully-ignorant day. May God raise up more like him: a learned divine, a faithful pastor, a humble man of holy desire.

All Souls' Day Thoughts

November 2, though officially named the “Commemoration of All Faithful Departed” by the Church, is more commonly known by its old name of All Souls’ Day. The history of this commemoration is given in brief here, and some additional prayers for use on this day are located here.

There are many traditions around the Christian Church connected with this day. Most focus on offering prayers for the dead in Christ throughout the ages – linking the saints of the past with those of today very much in the New Testament understanding of sainthood. This day also connects the "big picture" of our faith with the personal side, the individual losses we bear. This is partly why it has a particular power, felt mostly by those who have known death's capacity to distort and diminish life.

On All Souls’ Day St. Timothy's usually offers two liturgies: one for those whose schedules and abilities permit a daylight observance, and another for parishioners needing an evening service. Both liturgies are Prayer Book Requiems – Eucharists offered to God in commemoration of the dead in Christ. The lessons from Scripture and the special prayers used are from the Burial liturgies, with one special addition: the reading of the necrology or memorial list, which includes all those names members of our parish (and others, as well) have asked to be read at the altar. When possible (i.e. when it isn’t a driving rain outside), we then make our way to the Memorial Garden for graveside concluding prayers. For us the grave is not the end of the journey, but the portal through which we all must pass into that "larger life" awaiting us with Christ in the Kingdom.

There are many reasons for this day: the centrality of the Communion of Saints in the catholic faith; the victory of Christ’s death and resurrection by denying death’s power to separate all members of His Body in a final and decisive way; a positive sense of connection between the “Church Militant” (those struggling against evil in this world) and the “Church Triumphant."

Yet it is not only formal theology that counts in faith: the pastoral element, as an application of the “faith once delivered to the saints” is also highly significant. On All Souls’ we experience deep emotions: loss, sorrow, anger, regret. Yet we do so in the embrace of the Gospel: the story of God’s victory over these things is the foundation for this openness to exploring a territory fraught with unseen dangers – yet a territory we must traverse as disciples of Our Lord. Because he has been here before, he knows the way. Christ's victory is ours, but we must take his yoke upon us, and learn to share in his victory even as he has shared in our sufferings.

So, All Souls’ is at turns a somber, tearful, peaceful, comforting, and assuring day. I have seen many people break down in healing ways on these days; I have also experienced the unique way God performs soul-surgery in the liturgy – drawing connections, kindling hope, and shining light where darkness had reigned. This is a quiet day, really, but a day of profound significance. It is one of the great blessings of living in this tradition, respectful of the teaching of the ancient Church and the limits of what we can say. For this teaching and practice, I am deeply thankful, and I commend it to you.

May they rest in peace!

Brandon+

And, for an Anglican “take” on the prayers of the saints for us, here is a document from the Church of England which well describes our “official position” on this matter:

It is impossible to declare that departed saints cannot hear our prayers, and we therefore must not condemn as impossible direct address to them as private practice, provided this be to ask for their prayers whether for ourselves or for others; anything other than this seems to us both perilous and illegitimate. But also it is impossible to have well-grounded assurance that the saints hear us, so that direct address to them may well be thought inappropriate in the official worship of the Church. On the other hand, such formal expression within the liturgy of our fellowship with them in prayer as is contained, for example, in the Collect – “O God, the King of Saints” – appended to the Scottish Liturgy represents a true balance of thought and is a legitimate enrichment of worship

Doctrine in the Church of England, published in 1938

An All Souls' Day Prayer (suitable for use throughout the year):

O God, the King of saints, we praise and glorify your holy Name for all your servants who have finished their course in your faith and fear: for the blessed Virgin Mary; for the holy patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs; and for all your other righteous servants, known to us and unknown; and we pray that, encouraged by their examples, aided by their prayers, and strengthened by their fellowship, we also may be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light; through the merits of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Jeremy Taylor on The Episcopate

Here are three extracts from the great 17^th century Anglican Divine Jeremy Taylor’s writings on the office of the bishop – something we are thinking a fair amount about in our diocese just now.

The first one deals with the way in which the apostolic character of the bishop’s office may be deputed to the priests and deacons, yet that office remains fully vested in the bishop.

The second is as much the case today as in Taylor’s day: a priest may share in the sacramental and preaching ministrations of the bishop, but may only do so in a diocese by license from the bishop. This points to very real order which exists in the ‘college of presbyters’ with their bishop.

The third addresses the fact that priests, in essence, are all ‘vicarious representatives’ of the bishop, who cannot be everywhere at once in a diocese. Thus, when the bishop comes to a particular parish or other community in a diocese, the priest no longer has the ‘right’ to lead the liturgy. It falls to the ‘chief priest and pastor’ of the diocesan family. A visual sign of this in our worship is that the bishop is seated either in a special bishop’s chair, or (as at St. Timothy’s) takes the celebrant’s chair under the icon of our patron saint, with the priest now seated to the bishop’s left and serving as an assisting figure during the liturgy.

While a bit dated in content and having a rather convoluted style to modern tastes, Taylor’s writings on the Church still yield valuable insights for those willing to wrestle with them. Taylor was one of those leaders to whom it fell to reconstruct the Church following the disastrous period of the English Civil War and Parliamentary rule.

Although deacons and priests have part of [the offices of the apostolate] and therefore, though in a very limited sense, they may be called ‘successors apostolorum,’ [successors to the apostles] to wit, in the power of baptizing, consecrating the Eucharist, and preaching (an excellent example whereof, though we have none in Scripture, yet if I mistake him not we have in Ignatius [bishop martyred c. 115 AD], calling the college of presbyters… ‘a combination of apostles’); yet the apostolate and episcopacy which did communicate in all the power and offices which were ordinary and perpetual, are in scripture clearly all one in ordinary ministration, and their names are often used in common to signify exactly the same ordinary function.

The whole power of ministration both of the word and sacraments was in the bishop by prime authority, and in the presbyters [priests] by commission and delegation, insomuch that they might not exercise any ordinary ministration without license from the bishop. They had power and capacity by their order to preach, to minister, to offer, to reconcile, and to baptize; they were indeed acts of order: but they might not by the law of the church exercise any of these acts without license from the bishop, that is an act or issue of jurisdiction, and shews the superiority of the bishop over his presbyters by the practice of Christendom.

The whole cure of the diocese is in the bishop[;] he cannot exonerate himself of it, for it is a burden of Christ’s imposing, or it is not imposed at all; therefore this taking of presbyters into part of the regiment and care does not divest him of his own power any part of it, nor yet ease him of his care, but that as he must still episkopein [oversee], ‘visit’ and ‘see to’ his diocese, so he hath authority still in all parts of his diocese…. When the bishop came to any place there the vicaria [deputed office] of the presbyters did cease… and… he being present might do any office, because it was in his own charge….; and therefore praesente episcopo [when the bishop was present] (saith the council of Carthage and St. Leo) ‘if the bishop be present’, the presbyter without leave might not officiate.

A Tuesday Commemoration of Creation

Here are the opening lines for Tuesday mornings from Bp. Andrewes’ Private Prayers. They form a meditation regarding God’s work on the “Third Day,” as found in Genesis. They are part of the weekly cycle Andrewes composed for his personal use. Each day’s prayers begin with such a commemoration of God’s creative work. Together, they form a deeply engaging study of the Biblical understanding of nature, and our place in it.

Blessed are you, Lord,

who by drawing the water into sea,

caused dry land to appear,

and let the earth produce growth of plants

and fruit-bearing trees.

From the Abyss came

the depths & the sea – as in a bottle;

lakes, rivers, springs.

From that which was without form came

earth, continents, islands,

mountains, hills, valleys,

farmland, meadowland, woods.

From the Void came

green things,

corn for bread,

grass,

herbs and flowers;

for food,

pleasure,

healing.

Trees yielding fruit,

wine, oil, spices, and

for wood;

Things under the earth:

stones, metals, and minerals;

coal,

blood and fire and a turmoil of smoke (Joel 2:30)

(As translated by David Scott)

Andrewes’ use of imagery always fascinates me here. He uses both the language of God’s creative power (“from the Void came…”) but also weaves the human into the Creation by showing us the benefits of God’s work to us (“farmland,” “pleasure,” “healing,” wine,” &c.). The 17th century world in which he lived still understood humanity as a fully integrated part of the whole of the created order -- not master or detached observer. What would it be like to return to this? Perhaps this is one of the ways Native cultures can speak to our spiritual poverty.

Andrewes' peaceful mind recalls meadowland and woodlands… places he probably enjoyed taking the boys of the classes he taught; yet, he also ends with that mysterious and mildly disconcerting quote from Joel… “blood and fire and turmoil of smoke.” This recollection of the Hebrew “spiritual geography” of the Creation reminds us of the awesome power – both live-sustaining and life-taking – to be found in God’s handiwork. I always come away from this particular meditation being both charmed by (in much the same way I am by reading C.S. Lewis’ accounts of Narnia, say) and made aware of the inherent mystery of the Created order. This seems to me to be the way humanity was – and is – called to relate to the material world. I am deeply thankful that Bishop Andrewes saw fit to integrate his deep Biblical and Patristic piety with a right appreciation for that “other book” God left us to study: the Creation.

A Daily Intercession

In peace let us pray to the Lord:

For the peace that is from above and for the salvation of our souls;

For the peace of the whole world, and for the good estate of the holy churches of God, and for the union of them all;

For this holy house and for those who with faith and reverence enter in;

For our forebears in holy things, for the worthy presbyterate, for the deacons ministering in Christ, and for all the clergy and people;

For this holy house and all the city and country, and for believers who live here;

For the good temperature of air, abundance of the fruits of the earth, and peaceful times;

For those at sea, those traveling, the sick, the weary, the prisoners and for their deliverance.

Help, save, pity, and protect us, O God, by your grace.

All-holy, undefiled, highly-blessed, Mother of God, and ever-virgin Mary together with all the saints, we commend ourselves, each other and all our life to Christ our God, even to YOU LORD to whom be glory, honor, and worship.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with me, and with us all. Amen.

Bishop Lancelot Andrewes (1555-1626, Feast Day Sept. 26),

from the Laud Manuscript of the Preces Privatae,

as translated by David Scott

What is a Bishop?

A characteristic view of the Episcopate from the Restoration period of the Church of England; it is both remarkably simple and fairly “high” in its understanding. Yet, it does not mention the maintenance of the Apostolic Faith – something largely assumed at the time. It also seems (to many today, at least) rather concerned with maintaining a pyramidal structure. The focus on the bishop as one who keeps deception and heresy from becoming ‘normative’ is significant; then, as now, many different denominational traditions had sprung up, some with highly peculiar perspectives on the Gospel.

A bishop is a pastor set over other pastors. They were to ordain elders. They might receive an accusation against an elder. They were to charge them to preach such and such doctrines; to stop the mouths of deceivers; to set in order the tings that were wanting; and lastly, this was the form of Church government in all the ages. So that to reject this, is to reject an ordinance of God…. Every true and lawful bishop is the representative of Christ in his own Diocese.

Thomas Watson (1663-1755), in Sacra Privia

A Morning Litany

Glory to you Lord, O Lord, glory to you, glory to you who have given me sleep for the refreshing of my weakness, and to restore the labors of this fretful body.

To this day and all days, a perfect, peaceful, healthy, and sinless course:

Let us ask of the Lord.

An angel of peace, a faithful guide, guardian of soul and body, to pitch a tent around me, and always to prompt what brings salvation:

Let us ask of the Lord.

ParXdon and remission of all sins and offences:

Let us ask of the Lord.

To our souls, what is good and convenient, and peace to the world:

Let us ask of the Lord.

Repentance and discipline for the rest of our life, and health and peace to the end:

Let us ask of the Lord.

Whatever is true, whatever is honest, whatever is just, whatever pure, whatever lovely, whatever of good report, if there be any virtue, and praise, such thoughts, such deeds:

Let us ask of the Lord.

A Christian close, without sin, without blame, and if it please you without pain, and a good answer at the awesome and testing judgment-seat of Jesus Christ our Lord:

Let us ask of the Lord.

Bishop Lancelot Andrewes (1555-1626, Feast Day Sept. 26),

from the Laud Manuscript of the Preces Privatae,

as translated by David Scott