Uncommon People in Common Prayer

Uncommon People in Common Prayer   As a part of our Episcopal 101 Forum Series, Scott+ has been writing an introductory article in the Weekly Messenger to set the stage for our in-person discussions. This article was originally written and shared last summer, and here it is edited and updated to share again today.   We don’t often read directly from The Book of Common Prayer on Sundays at St. Michael’s. You probably see it every week, peeking over the pew racks in back of each row, right next to hymnals and miscellaneous information cards. However, except for those who gather at the 7:30 service, we worship together using wonderfully produced, edited and printed worship bulletins that preserve us from having to juggle hymnals and prayer books and allow us to include additional words and prayers from the wider church as we worship together.   Each time we gather, whether we pick up the actual book or not, our liturgy is guided by the rituals and rules of The Book of Common Prayer. The first BCP was issued in England in 1549, at the beginning of this long church tradition known as Anglicanism. Our current BCP in The Episcopal Church was issued in 1979, not long after the colonies achieved independence from England. The ‘79 is the 4th official edition for use in the US (1789, 1892, 1928 were the three prior ones), though there have been some small edits in between the major revisions. Some folks still miss “the ’28 Prayer Book,” others consider a paper book to be functionally irrelevant, and still more believe an updated BCP is long overdue.   It takes many years for the entire Episcopal Church to agree and issue a new edition of the BCP. The process begins and ends with the work of General Convention. (General Convention is the governing body comprised of lay people, clergy and bishops from all the dioceses of The Episcopal Church, meeting only once every three years.) When a decision to issue a new BCP is made by General Convention, it takes just less than a decade, in a best-case scenario, for the new version to be finalized and published. As you might imagine, the revision process for the BCP can be tedious: emotionally charged, passionately debated, and inordinately contentious. (We are, after all, trying to make these decisions as a church that includes folk in the South, New England, Big Sky, Pacific Northwest, Midwest, and California. There’s a lot of diversity to draw into consensus!)     The words we say together—week after week and year after year—saturate our hearts. The rituals and forms we engage over time get into our bones. The patterns and prayers renew our minds.   A mentor of mine is fond of saying, ‘We are not a church of common mind but of common prayer.” I think this sums it up. The Book of Common Prayer is at the center of pretty much everything we are and do as The Episcopal Church. We don’t hold standalone statements of doctrine and confession to which one must give assent as a prerequisite for belonging. Conformity of thought is not required as a gateway to membership. Rather, our rituals are the path in. We sojourn together along a way of “lex orandi, lex credendi”—praying shapes believing—to engage the words and liturgies of the tradition at the heart of our particular expression of Christian community. This center holds us, as we bring our beautiful diversity of individual thoughts, questions, convictions, doubts and dreams together into this great body of uncommon people in common prayer.   I look forward to gathering with you at this Sunday’s forum to explore the gifts of The Book of Common Prayer for our life together and as a resource in our own personal devotions.     With you,   Scott+   The Rev. R. Scott Painter, Rector   Email: ScottP@stmaa.org

Would you like to come home?

A few years ago, while I was serving in Houston, a couple of particularly conspicuous guests joined us one Sunday for worship. I may have been the only one in the room who didn’t know them. There was a buzz. Glances shot back and forth across the room.  Finally, someone pulled me aside, pulled me close, and whispered, “That’s so and so. They were leaders. Involved in so many things. Then there was a disagreement, and they left the church. Honestly, we never thought we’d see them here again.”

But those folks had heard that good things were happening, and they missed the community that had been so important to them for so many years, so they came to check it out. After the service, they told me as much, and told me how good it was to be back. I invited them to lunch.

We met the following week. When we found each other at the local diner, there were smiles all around, a magnanimous exchange of pleasantries. My new acquaintances quickly launched into stories of their many years in that congregation – how much they loved the people, had never belonged to such a special community, had hoped for growth and expanded ministry in the community. They also shared about some difficulties and some hard feelings they had carried with them when the left several years before. Many times, I believe, good people just want different things, or make mistakes, or get their feelings hurt. Church is a human institution with a divine spark, but that humanness means we sometimes fall short of the goodness, grace, forgiveness, and love that calls us together.

As our lunch and conversation began to wind down, I could tell that there was something still hanging out there. These good folks had taken a risk in showing up again at church after a long time away; over lunch they had opened their hearts, and in vulnerability and tenderness they were reaching for something that hadn’t yet been said out loud. I think they were reaching for healing, for reconciliation, for connection.

After a long pause, and maybe a drink of iced tea, I looked at them both in their eyes, one and then the other, and I just kind of blurted out the obvious question: “Well, do you want to come home?”

These two new friends looked at each other, smiled really big, and at the same time sighed out in relief – “Yeah, we do.”

They did come home. They started showing up again, reconnected with old friends, made amends for some harsh words and hurt feelings that had lingered for years. It was beautiful to behold.

This Sunday is our day to kick off the new program year. It marks a crossing from the summer season of easy schedules, travel, and rest, back to school and a 5-day workweek and church worship and fellowship on a regular basis.

We’ve been calling this Kickoff Sunday, but now I’m wondering if it isn’t a sort of “Homecoming.” Because the questions to each of us, whether we’ve just been on a break for the summer or have hung back for a few years, is the same: Do you want to come home?

I hope your answer to that is something like, “Yeah, we really do.”

If you would like to get a cup of coffee and get to know one another, let’s do that! St. Michael’s is a pretty big church, and that makes it hard for me to do all of the personal reach-outs that I’d like to do. But I’ve never said no to an invitation to coffee, and I would be glad to hear from you and set something up.

In the meantime, I hope you’ll join us Sunday for worship, including a back-to-school blessing for students and educators (not just teachers!), and for a special coffee hour hosted by the St. Michael’s Singers. (They’re back!)

Come home, and be a part of this wonderful church family.

With you,

Scott+

The Rev. R. Scott Painter, Rector
Email: ScottP@stmaa.org