Category Archives: Daily Office

Evolution of the Word

Over the weekend I practically devoured the new book by Marcus Borg, Evolution of the Word: The New Testament in the Order the Books Were Written.

The idea of the book is simple. By placing the letters and Gospels and other books of the New Testament in chronological order and looking at the historical context in which they were written, we get an idea what the Good News of Jesus Christ meant for its first hearers and for the earliest generations of Christ’s followers.

There is general consensus that the earliest documents in the New Testament are seven letters of Paul, written in the 50s. Mark was written around 70, and was used by both Matthew and Luke as they composed their Gospels. Revelation was not the last to be written, but came in the 90s. The latest work is 2 Peter, which dates to the middle of the second century, about 120 or so. The book consists of introductions to each book followed by the full text from the NRSV.

We can also see the impact of current events on the language of the New Testament writers. The Gospel of Matthew, for example, most likely written in the 80s or early 90s, reflects the conflict between Christian Jews and other Jews. After the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70, many synagogues “closed ranks” and ostracized or expelled Christian Jews. This sheds light on why Matthew and John (both written late in the first century) contain harsher language about “the Jews.”

Reading the New Testament in this way makes me feel more connected to my brothers and sisters of those distant centuries, and it makes the issues they dealt with in their “life in Christ” feel as real as the ones I deal with. It also gets me excited for the upcoming year of Education for Ministry (EfM) when the eight students in my group will be studying Old Testament, New Testament, and Church History.

Building one’s knowledge of God through study of the Scriptures is as important as building one’s devotion to God through the use of the Scriptures in the Daily Office. Through the Scriptures, we come to know the power of God in our own time just as the very first Christians knew that power in theirs.

I Must Bring Them Also

O God, you have made of one blood all the peoples of the earth, and sent your blessed Son to preach peace to those who are far off and to those who are near: Grant that people everywhere may seek after you and find you; bring the nations into your fold; pour out your Spirit upon all flesh; and hasten the coming of your kingdom; through Jesus Christ our Lord. (BCP 100)

In the Gospel reading appointed for today (John 10:1-18), Jesus first tries to use the metaphor of the sheepfold to describe his relation to the disciples. “The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.”

Blank stares. As John wryly observes, “Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.”

So he tries again. “I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and they will come in and go out and find pasture.” The disciples scratch their heads. Which is it, the shepherd or the gate?

One more time. “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11). Now, at least those of us reading the Gospel get it, even if the disciples at the time didn’t. “Lays down his life” — we know what that means. We have trusted in Jesus’ death and resurrection, and we know what it means for him to be the Good Shepherd. We even painted some of our earliest churches with that very image of Jesus bearing a lamb in his arms.

But Jesus doesn’t stop there. He goes on to say that “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd” (John 10:16).

Now he goes right over our heads, too. We’re the sheep, right? We came in through the gate, didn’t we? What about that other parable, the one with the goats — all the others are goats, right?

But what if the Good Shepherd has many flocks? What if the Gate himself opens in many directions — the one we came through and many more besides? What if we are not the flock, but rather simply a flock? I think about this image when I look around at the many branches and denominations that make up the Christian world.

“Grant that people everywhere may seek after you and find you; bring the nations into your fold,” we pray today.

It’s Jesus’ sheepfold, not ours. We know that we have found the gate we needed to enter. Others may not enter by the same gate we did, but if the Good Shepherd “brings them also,” then they too “will come in and go out and find pasture.”

A Wayfarer, As All My Forebears Were

For I am but a sojourner with you, a wayfarer, as all my forebears were. (Psalm 39:14)

Rodger and Lindsay are the names of both of my grandfathers and my father.

My grandfather Rodger was an Episcopal priest in the Dioceses of Springfield and Chicago, my father Lindsay in the Dioceses of Central Florida, Albany, Springfield, Western Louisiana, and Florida. I was ordained a deacon in the Diocese of Chicago and have served in the Dioceses of Milwaukee and Fond du Lac.

I have been part of the “family business,”so to speak, in Winter Haven, Orlando, and Auburndale, Florida; Unadilla and Latham, New York; Charleston and Park Ridge, Illinois; and Lake Geneva, Walworth, and Appleton, Wisconsin.

But Jesus reminds us in tonight’s Gospel reading that ancestry is a tricky thing.

“If you were Abraham’s children, you would be doing what Abraham did, but now you are trying to kill me, a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God. This is not what Abraham did” (John 8:33-47).

Each of us must take care of our own business, so to speak, in matters of the spirit.  We cannot simply rest on our ancestry; we must also do what our ancestors did.

More importantly, we are called to do better than our ancestors did. Earlier in the Gospel, Jesus says “your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, and they died. But those who eat my flesh will live forever.”

This blog, the Daily Office Anchor Society, honors one legacy of my grandfather Rodger, whose 1928 Prayer Book and King James Bible combination bears the stains of the oil on his fingers on the pages of the Daily Office and the Psalter. I treasure that volume as an example of his practice of daily prayer.

Another legacy of his, however, bears deeper stains. Rodger was an excellent priest and a flawed man, whose inappropriate behavior led to his being deposed from the priesthood. My grandmother never darkened the door of a church after he died just a year after that judgment.

Before I even knew of that family legacy, I had been called to teach about preventing sexual misconduct in the church, a ministry I worked at in Chicago and Milwaukee for a dozen years. Having learned of that family legacy, I am still working to understand our silences, our sighs too deep for words, and my own conflicted longings.

I am a wayfarer, just as all my forebears were. I write this post from 30,000 feet, which most of the time is my normal habitat.

God grant that, while my heart will always treasure the legacy I have inherited, I may not rest on my ancestors’ accomplishments but rather seek to follow Jesus’ example and do the will of my true Father in my own time.

Labor Day

O God, your unfailing providence sustains the world we live in and the life we live: Watch over those, both night and day, who work while others sleep, and grant that we may never forget that our common life depends upon each other’s toil; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (BCP 134)

This prayer from Compline seems fitting as I prepare to travel today.

I am grateful for all whose work (especially on nights, weekends, and holidays) enables me to do the work I am called to do and gives me freedom to relax and rejuvenate with my family.

This interdependence is worth giving thanks for every day (or every night).

Hail, Hail, Lion of Judah!

I remember singing this song one Advent almost 25 years ago at a service at Brent House, the Episcopal Campus Ministry of the University of Chicago. I must have been there for a Province V college gathering of some kind.

Many years later, I ran across this icon from Br. Robert Lentz, OFM. Lentz writes about how the resurrected Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene and to the disciples in such a way that they did not recognize him. He goes on to ask whether we today would recognize Christ in others — strangers, or the poor, or the naked, or the hungry.

This powerful image depicts Christ as a Maasai warrior, surrounded by the evangelist seraphim, preparing to open the scroll with seven seals described in Rev. 5:5.

You’ll also recognize in today’s reading a couple of verses that form part of Canticle 18, “A Song to the Lamb” (BCP 93).

And yours by right, O Lamb that was slain, *
for with your blood you have redeemed for God,
From every family, language, people, and nation, *
a kingdom of priests to serve our God.

What does the “kingdom of priests” — the Church, the Body of Christ —  look like in your mind? What new images for that kingdom might the Lion of Judah wish you to see today?

Holy, Good, and Peaceful

From my seat — 1B — I have an excellent vantage point when the power on the MD88 suddenly cuts off.

The pilot leans out of his cockpit window and yells down: “Can you hook us back up? You cut off our ground power!”

Meanwhile, I’m gratified to note that the aisle path lighting has in fact illuminated, showing the way to the exit.

The power comes back on, but the surge has fried a computer component. The pilot comes on the intercom to explain that it’s critical, and that maintenance is looking to see if they have one at the sprawling Detroit airport.

Cue the exasperated groans and cell phone calls to friends and family detailing the situation and spinning out the worst possible scenarios.

Turns out they do have the component close to hand, however, and maintenance actually gets it to us quickly. While they’re installing it and running the test routines, I can hear the computer voice in the cockpit saying, “Pull up! Pull up! Altitude!”

Since we’re on the tarmac, six feet above the ground, clearly the altitude warning is working properly.

When we pull back from the gate, 30 minutes after we were supposed to, the lead flight attendant comes on the intercom to say that our short flying time means we will make it to Kansas City just minutes after our scheduled arrival time.

So here we are at 30,000 feet, enjoying a drink and a snack, watching the sun go down on the starboard side of the plane, confident that the critical components are working, and a little impressed with the speed of the Delta maintenance crew at DTW.

“That this evening may be holy, good, and peaceful,” indeed.

Amen.

Know and Love, Love and Serve

Lord God, the light of the minds that know you, the life of the souls that love you, and the strength of the hearts that serve you: Help us, following the example of your servant Augustine of Hippo, so to know you that we may truly love you, and so to love you that we may fully serve you, whom to serve is perfect freedom; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

So to know God that we may truly love … so to love God that we may fully serve.

At St. Thomas, the parish I serve as deacon, the rector gives a children’s sermon at the 10 am Eucharist before he preaches to the congregation. Because Fr. Ralph was out of town last Sunday, I took a turn.

The children come up to the altar and we all sit on the steps together. They bring up a hatbox with a surprise in it, usually some kind of toy, and the game is that the preacher has to improvise a sermon on the spot.

This week the toy surprise was a dollar coin with Lady Liberty on the front, so we spoke for a minute or two about liberty and freedom and the symbols of our country that remind us of that truth. We also spoke about Jesus, who shows us an example of perfect freedom and loving service.

Augustine represents for the church the too-often competing strains of devotion and intellectual pursuit. He yearned both to know (that is, to intellectually comprehend) God and to serve the Lord Jesus. He also served the church in Hippo in northern Africa during a particularly difficult time in its early history when it was undergoing persecution and dealing with the problem of believers, particularly bishops and priests, who had turned away from the faith under duress and were seeking to return.

The love of God, Augustine understood, could not be diminished by the failings of people. The quaint language of our Thirty-Nine Articles reminds us “Of the Unworthiness of the Ministers, which hinders not the effect of the Sacraments” (BCP 873).

“Faith seeking understanding” is a motto often attributed to Augustine, and our prayer today reminds us that using our minds to study both the Scriptures and the world around us can deepen our love for God, that learning to love God and to understand the world will lead us to serve others more than to judge them, and that in loving service we will find our freedom.

Receive Thankfully and Follow Daily

The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. (John 6:51)

In the Collect for Proper 15, which we have been praying all week, we thank God that he gave his “only Son to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also an example of godly life” (BCP 232).

Jesus himself outlines the terms of that sacrifice in his discourse on bread (John 6). The crowd has trouble overcoming their revulsion at his message about eating flesh and cannot understand his meaning.

Saul, too, is revolted by the message. His distaste for the early followers of the Way leads him to persecute them, “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord” (Acts 9:1).

Even after he is struck down by a vision and brought to Damascus, Saul still has a lot to learn. Jesus tells Ananias in a vision, “I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name” (Acts 9:16).

When our thoughts are consumed by the wrongs of others, when we wish ill upon those we dislike, we are like Saul and still have a lot to learn. We still have to learn to be thankful rather than angry. We still have to learn to follow Jesus in the way of the cross, “the way of life and peace” (BCP 99), laying down our lives for the sake of others.

If we let Jesus show us the way, then perhaps “something like scales” will fall from our eyes, too. With Saul, we will see how much we must suffer — how much we must set aside our own anger and self-will — for the sake of Jesus’ name.

Within that suffering, however, we trust that we will be granted “grace to receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work, and to follow daily in the blessed steps of his most holy life” (BCP 232).

Going Out and Coming In

The Forward Movement Daily Prayer Anytime site is a real treasure, especially on days like this which I am spending in transit.

Today Psalm 121:8 caught my attention:

The LORD shall watch over your going out and your coming in, *
from this time forth for evermore.

Does your sense of trust in God’s presence seem clearer when you think of the present moment or when you think of eternity?

According to Parker Palmer, many people of faith are “functional atheists” — that is to say, in the moment their actions are indistinguishable from those of a nonbeliever.

Practicing daily prayer, the regular Offices of the Church, is one time-tested way to bring awareness of God’s presence closer and closer to the present moment.

Whether you read them in a book or follow a link during a midday break, use the Offices to keep yourself “functionally faithful” and to inform your actions throughout the day.

From Far Off or From Near

Now those who were scattered went from place to place, preaching the word. (Acts 8:4)

Would there even be a Church if Saul hadn’t started persecuting the followers of the Way?

Jesus had complained earlier to his disciples and to the people listening to him that “you search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they who testify on my behalf. Yet you refuse to come to me to have life” (John 5:39-40).

It may not have been exactly comfortable for the early apostles after Jesus’ death and resurrection, but at least they were all together in the temple, praising God and sharing everything with each other.

Saul’s persecution changed everything, however, and scattered the apostles out into the world. Without that push they may never have discovered that God’s power is made perfect in our weakness. They might never have discovered that Jesus was also with “those who are far off” as well as “those who are near.” What happened after the persecution? “The apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God” (Acts 8:14).

We can always stand to learn the lesson again. Our study of the Scriptures and the life we share in Christ is not about comfort, but about preparation. We want to be sure that when we meet Jesus where he already is, we will recognize him. As he said himself, we can’t do that if our nose is stuck in a book, even if it is the Good Book.

Jesus is waiting to give life to everyone, if we will come to him. Whether we come from far off or from near, Lord, “open our eyes to see your hand at work in the world about us” (BCP 372).