“Liturgical Texts” in LSB

(Post edited 8/9/16, 8 pm)

One of the greatest features of the Lutheran Service Book family of books—including the Treasury of Daily Prayer—is that the biblical sources of the liturgical texts are all marked in the margins.

This is both informative—it teaches us where those texts are taken from—and edifying—it is a constant reminder that the vast majority of the liturgical texts come from the Scriptures rather than from the mind of some person or committee.

Every now and then, however, instead of the Bible, the reference is to a nebulous “Liturgical Text”, with no further clue as to what the source might be. Are those references the product of the mind of some person or committee?

As it turns out, the answer is a bit of yes and a bit of no. These portions of text, which are found almost exclusively in the various responsive chants of the orders of service (introits, graduals, Alleluia verses, responsories, and such like) are indeed taken from writings that are not in the 66 (Protestant) canonical books of the Bible but are found in the liturgical tradition of the Western church: the Latin sacramentaries and liturgies of the hours compiled in the first millennium.

However, with very few exceptions, these texts are not from the mind of a person or a committee any more than the biblical texts.

Instead, they are most commonly taken from books we refer to as the Old Testament Apocrypha: those writings which are found in the Septuagint (3rd century BC Greek translation of the Old Testament) but not in the Hebrew Bible.

Both the Eastern and Western churches read the books of the Apocrypha in the daily office (Matins, Vespers, etc.), as did the Lutheran and Anglican churches long after the Reformation. Since the responsories that follow the readings were often tailored to match the readings in any particular office, whenever readings were from a certain book, the responsory may well draw on the same book.

To give an example, the responsory appointed for the weeks of Propers 14–20 of the Post-Pentecost Season (Trinity 14–19) in the Treasury, has its origin in the service of Matins. From Septuagesima onwards, the Old Testament was read in that service continuously. In late summer, the readings were from the book of Judith, and so the responsories were also drawn from the book of Judith:

L: We have no other God except the Lord, in whom we trust. (Judith 8:19b Vulgate)

C: He does not despise us, nor does He take away His salvation from us (Judith 8:19b Vulgate)

L: Let us seek His mercy with tears, (Judith 8:14b Vulgate)
and humble ourselves before Him (Judith 8:16a Old Latin translation)

C: He does not despise…

Likewise, the previous season for Propers 8–13 is from the book of Tobit.

A complex set of factors have detached the responsories from their original context in the Lutheran church, not least our modern-day aversion to the Apocrypha and the near-death of the Daily Office in our church and personal lives.

It’s a shame that the editors of the LSB decided further to obscure our connection to the generations that came before us by concealing the source of these liturgical materials. After all, which is more offensive to a church that claims to be in continuity with the Church Catholic: the use of quasi-biblical texts that were read from the first apostolic generation of Christians until the eighteenth century, or the use of texts that came from the mind of some unknown person or committee?

Source: Ruth Steiner, “Gregorian Responsories Based on Texts from the Book of Judith“, in Terence Bailey and Alma Santosuosso, Music in Mediaeval Europe: Studies in Honour of Bryan Gillingham (Aldershot/Burlington: Ashgate Publishing, 2007), 23–33

A Carol Treat

Wow!

For the first time, Our Saviour Lutheran Church and the “little church”, St. Francis’, Funtley, joined forces for a carol service. Not quite 9 lessons and carols—but we did have 6 of the traditional nine.

The church is little, so with a tad fewer than 60 people in attendance, there was standing room only for the last half-dozen arrivals. The roof very nearly lifted off with the singing.

And then there was the choir.

Formed especially for this occasion, the children’s choir—12 children between the ages of 6 and 12 from our local Junior and Infant schools—sang their three numbers beautifully and confidently. “The Angel Gabriel”, “The Calypso Carol” and “In Dulci Jubilo”. Despite only having had four rehearsals, the children managed to get their mouths round the Latin and the Thees and Thous very well indeed.

I do hope this was the first instalment of a long and happy tradition!

P.S. I have no pictures of the occasion, but here is what St. Francis looks like.

Maundy Thursday: Eating and Drinking Life

Preached at Our Saviour Lutheran Church on 17 February 2014. You can listen to a recording of the sermon here.
Text: 1 Corinthians 11:23–32

We have heard read tonight the institution of the Holy Supper of our Lord, as narrated by St. Paul to the church in Corinth, and with our own mouths we have confessed what this Sacrament is, does and signifies. Let us spend a few moments longer contemplating the great divine mystery, which we will not only study but receive before we leave this place.

It is not an exaggeration to say that God in the Holy Scriptures is extraordinarily focused on our eating. The first thing we are told about the Garden in Eden, the home of the first man and his wife, is that “out of the ground the Lord God made to spring up every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food.” The very first commandment had to do with eating:

And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, “You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.”

In the middle of the Garden was the Tree of Life, which was the source of eternal life. For after the Fall, in order to prevent from fallen mankind to live forever under the curse, God placed cherubim with flaming swords to guard the Tree of Life and to keep man from eating from it.

And since man is what he eats, death began its reign. Cultivating a cursed ground for his food, he remained under the curse. Eating dead food, he himself was destined to be consumed by death.

But since God was determined to remain true to His loving purposes and be faithful even when we were faithless, He continued to provide life-giving food for the people.

When Abraham gave tithes to Melchizedek, the priest of God Almighty and the king of Salem who foreshadowed the true High Priest of God and the King of Peace, our Lord Jesus Christ, Melchizedek blessed Abraham and gave him bread and wine.

When the Lord redeemed Israel from the yoke of slavery in Egypt, He sent the people into their freedom fed with the meat of the Passover lamb and the unleavened bread.

In the wilderness, when the people were perishing for want of faith when food and water were scarce, God sent them bread from heaven and water from a rock.

When the Lord gave Moses the Law, He provided a sacred meal, the peace offering, so that the worshippers gathered in the tabernacle might sit down and eat the meat of the sacrifice in table fellowship with God Himself.

Through His prophets, God promised a time of restoration when there would no longer be a curse on the ground, when creation would be freed from its bondage to sin, when death would die. The people would once again eat the fruit of the land in all its abundance. “Open your mouth wide,” says the Lord, “and I will fill it.” (Ps. :)

* * *

However, not everything was suitable to eat. There was food that was unclean: food that came from things that had been distorted by the fall, and perpetuated the fallenness of creation—such as beasts that ate not the grass of the field but one another.

But there was one eating prohibition that stood above all others. Unlike the laws about clean and unclean food, which were given to Israel through Moses at Sinai, this prohibition was given through Noah to all mankind: “you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood” (Gen. :)

This commandment was repeated when the Law was given through Moses, not once but six times, and the whole of chapter  of Leviticus is devoted to it. Why was it such a terrible thing to eat blood? Because the blood was the life: eating the blood was to eat the life. Israel’s pagan neighbours would eat and drink blood, or pour it over their crops, to benefit from the life-force of another, whether an animal or a human.

To Israel God said,

If any one of the house of Israel or of the strangers who sojourn among them eats any blood, I will set my face against that person who eats blood and will cut him off from among his people.

For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that makes atonement by the life.

Therefore I have said to the people of Israel, No person among you shall eat blood, neither shall any stranger who sojourns among you eat blood. (Lev. :–)

Life comes from God and it returns to God. You are not to take what is God’s for yourself. Nor should you seek to gain anything for your life, except from God, who has created you and numbered your days. The only use of another’s life is for the sake of atonement, one life for the sins of another, as commanded by God: hence the Passover Lamb and the sacrifices of atonement.

* * *

Today, we share the condition of Adam and Eve, of Noah, Abraham, Moses and the Israelites. Today, we still live off a cursed ground, in mortal bodies, eating dead food and being consumed by death. Our sins and the sins of others are still destroying us, until the wages of sin is paid out to us.

But today, we too are fed by God. Like Melchizedek, Christ brings us bread and wine and His blessing. But the bread and wine are not mere bread and wine, mere signs and symbols without a power of their own.

No, this bread and wine are combined with the all-powerful words of Christ. By the power of Christ’s words, the words of institution, we are given the flesh of Christ to eat and His blood to drink, hidden in, with and under the bread and wine. That’s right: we eat flesh and we drink blood. Only now the drinking of blood brings with it not punishment but blessing. Why? Because the blood is the life. The blood of atonement that was made once for all, the blood of the Passover Lamb who takes away the sin of the world, is now given to us so that our sins might be covered, that the angel of death may pass over us, and that we might have in us the life of Christ, who overcame death and hell and lives forever.

Jesus said,

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. (John 6:53–57)

We eat Christ and we drink His life—the flesh with its blood. Not dead food that nourishes a dying body for a moment, but living food that nourishes the body and soul to life everlasting. Really and truly—hidden but undoubtedly present.

The tree of the cross is for us the new tree of life, from whose fruit we eat so that we might live eternally in an imperishable Paradise. The blood shed on that cross brings us atonement, covering our sin and washing us so that our scarlet sins are made white as snow. Our garments, soiled by transgression, are purified and made white in the blood of the Lamb, and now we can stand with confidence before the throne of Almighty God, and His Son who will judge the living and the dead.

Thus though we don’t see our Bridegroom now as He is with our eyes, He is not far from us. Rather, He comes to us in a most intimate union, making Himself one flesh with His bride, the Church, and with each of her members. We are not left only to think about Him, whether in remembrance or in anticipation—no, He lives within us in His body and blood.

In this way, the miracle of the incarnation is echoed at Christian altars each time the words of institution are spoken over bread and wine: the Son of God makes His dwelling among us in the flesh of the Son of Mary. This is why Christians bow or kneel during at the consecration, to recognise and reverence the great mystery: that Jesus, our Immanuel, is with us. This is why Christians sing the Agnus Dei, the hymn to the Lamb of God, not to the backs of their eyelids, or up to the ceiling, but to the altar where the Lamb of God to whom we sing is present.

And this is why also the Church exercises great care in admitting people to this most holy meal: whoever eats such sacred food and drinks such sacred drink without recognising in faith what is being offered and for what purpose, profanes the holy mysteries and thereby incurs judgement rather than forgiveness, wrath rather than blessing.

And so, dear friends of Christ, we have come to the Holy of Holies, to the presence of יהוה of Sabaoth, the God of Israel. The benefits of the sacrifice of Golgotha are being delivered to us tonight, and Christ is giving us His immortal body and the blood of His eternal life to us to eat and to drink.

Examine yourselves, therefore: Are you a sinner in need of forgiveness? Are you weak, and in need of strength? Are you starving and in need of feeding, parched and in need of refreshment? Are you a sojourner, longing for your true home? Are you dying, in need of life?

Here is forgiveness and life; here is strength for the pilgrimage; here is food and drink; here is a foretaste from the banquet prepared for every prodigal son and daughter by the Father, a full token of Christ’s love for His beloved bride.

Come, open your mouth, and it will be filled!

A Year of God’s Grace

Our Saviour Lutheran Church

Annual General Meeting
20 March 2014
Pastor’s Report

Church SignOur Saviour Lutheran Church has enjoyed another year of God’s grace, receiving and sharing the love of God in Jesus Christ. There have been many joys, some deep sorrows—but above all, the constancy of God’s loving gifts.

Except on two of the Sundays when the pastor was away on holiday, Divine Service (service with Holy Communion) has been held “on every Lord’s Day and on [many of] the other festivals”, as enjoined by our Lutheran confessions (Apology of the Augsburg Confession XXIV.1). Sunday attendance by the members of the church has remained regular, with very many attending every Sunday unless they were away. In addition, a good number of members also attended services for Ascension and Ash Wednesday. I am very grateful to DL who, as the elder, led services during my annual leave—as he did faithfully during his whole long tenure as elder—as well as to Pr. GJ who led the service, preached and administered the Sacrament during the same period of leave. In addition, in February students from Westfield House assisted in the service by preaching and by assisting in the liturgy.

We have experienced greater variety in the liturgical life of the congregation than in the past. In addition to Settings III and IV, the Easter season, we used the Healey Willan setting of the Divine Service, and during Advent, an unaccompanied setting of the Divine Service, which is being prepared by the ELCE’s Committee on Worship.

Thanks to the faithful service of our Sunday school teachers and helpers, Sunday school has been held on almost every Sunday of the church year, and our children continue to grow in the knowledge of God’s word.

A whole new set of services came into being from September. In co-operation with the Parish of St. Peter & St. Paul, regular Daily Office services began to be held at St. Francis’, Funtley: Matins on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, and Vespers on Wednesdays. Although members of the congregation have not begun to attend these services regularly, it is nevertheless an encouragement that there is regular prayer for the congregation and for the wider community. Moreover, some members of the local community who are not members of Our Saviour have attended some of the services from time to time.

In the traditional Advent Vespers, we studied the Epistle readings for the Sundays of Advent. In the current series of Lenten Vespers, we are taking a leaf out of Martin Luther’s book, and going back to being students of the Catechism (Introduction to the Large Catechism), with each week’s service focusing on one of the Chief Parts.

Bible study remains well-attended. This entire past year has been taken up by a close study of the chief confession of the Lutheran Church, the Augsburg Confession. Several adults and two children have been receiving instruction in the Church’s doctrine in preparation for full membership in the Lutheran Church.

There have been many joys. On Pentecost, H was received into communicant membership through the rite of Confirmation. As in past years, we have had the opportunity to serve the children of the local area through holiday clubs and the Drama Club. Since the autumn, a newly-formed youth club has met fortnightly, generously hosted by B (even while she was away in Australia!). We have been able to serve the elderly members of our community through ongoing care home visits, as well as regular visits to a newly-built care home. As a church family, we have met monthly over excellent food and drink at Saturday suppers. In January, the congregation was able to lend their pastor to extend God’s grace to a Finnish family in Galway, Ireland, to bring their newborn daughter S to the saving waters of Baptism. We hosted the LWLGB convention in November and a Westfield House weekend in February.

Amid the joys, we have also endured sorrows. The upheavals within the ELCE in the past year were and are felt painfully by all: when one member suffers, the whole body suffers. Our service of prayer for friends and strangers, which manifests itself in a long prayer list in the weekly bulletin, encapsulates many needs of loved ones and others. Some prayers have been answered with a ‘Yes’ through relief and healing, others with a ‘No’, as we have had to bid a final farewell to those for whom we have prayed. Above all, we lost from our visible fellowship our dear friend and sister in the faith, Forbes. She has gone to the promised glory ahead of time. We, who are left behind, grieve, yet not as those who have no hope but rather in the firm assurance of the resurrection of the body and our reunion with all the saints in God’s heavenly kingdom of glory.

Beyond Fareham, Brighton Lutheran Mission had its second anniversary in January. The work continues to grow and develop slowly and steadily. The monthly services and Sunday Bible studies are regularly attended by five to eight people, of whom three are receiving adult instruction with a view to Baptism or Confirmation. In addition, since last spring, there has been a regular Bible study on the afternoon of the fourth Friday of the month. In addition, I have had the opportunity twice now to share the Gospel with guests at the lunch club run by Holland Road Baptist Church, our generous hosts in Hove.

Our Saviour continues to serve the wider ELCE also by supporting the pastor’s regular visits to Oxford Mission, enabling that small but steadfast community to receive the same gifts of grace which God gives to us.

Finally, my thanks are due to all who have assisted me and served the church in various capacities: DL, who during his long tenure as Elder, which came to an end in August, was always exemplary in his concern for the welfare of the congregation, and who continues to serve as Treasurer; MC, as Chairman and as incoming Elder; to all the other office holders; to the Sunday school teachers; the musicians who make it possible for us to have accompanied services; those who make tea and coffee, the washer-uppers; all who cook; those who have hosted guests; those who give lifts to others; holiday club helpers; and to all for your prayers.

In human terms, the future of our church remains uncertain, all the more since we received the added financial burden of retrospective pension liability payments. Nevertheless, none of that needs to make us anxious: we are not a human society but a divine society, the body of Christ in Fareham and Southern England. Whatever is uncertain to us, whatever shortfalls we may be aware of: none of those are a concern to our Heavenly Father, from whom all blessings flow. Whether the future promises growth and greater resources, or decline and the reduction in worldly goods, we have the sure promises of Jesus. He will be with us always to the end of the world. The Church is His Church, and the gates of hell not prevail against it. So all is well, because all will end well!

Soli Deo Gloria: To God alone be all glory!

Respectfully submitted on the Thursday of Reminiscere Sunday,

Rev. Tapani Simojoki
Pastor

The extraordinary ordinary

Homily preached at the Lutheran Women’s League of Great Britain Workshop at Our Saviour Lutheran Church, Fareham
9 November 2013
Text: Romans 16:1‒16; Luke 8:1‒3; 10:38‒42

The lists of names in the final greetings of the New Testament Epistles tend to pass us by in our daily reading. When I first started reading the Bible regularly as a teenager, I was very keen, so I read everything. But after a few years, I began to skip about, to leave out certain bits. And the first thing to go were the lists of names. They just didn’t seem to have any spiritual value, nothing in them for me. Later, at university I learned that they were not entirely without worth: scholars of the New Testament use these lists to cross-reference names in different books to try and get a sense of what was written when, who knew whom, and so forth. Very interesting, if you are into that sort of thing. But still, hardly heart-lifting spiritual edification.

Are you with me?

Well, I hope you are not, because I was just plain wrong. These lists, these names of people about most of whom we know nothing at all except that Paul knew them—they are you and me. Ordinary Christians who were known to the apostle, who had sat in the services where he preached and been members of the churches he had planted. Some of them had served him, or served the churches in various capacities. Others were fellow-preachers, tasked with proclaiming the same apostolic and prophetic message that had been entrusted to the apostles.

Continue reading The extraordinary ordinary

On liturgical orientation

Lutheran MassThis post is a development of a couple of Twitter posts as part of this fruitful exchange, initiated by John H.

Full disclaimer: I currently celebrate the Sacrament versus populum

For most of the Divine Service, there are two ways liturgists can face. Ad orientem means ‘towards the east’, and refers to the liturgist facing the altar, with his back to the congregation. The opposite way is versus populum, facing the people, with his back to the altar.

The rationale for these is simple: when the liturgist addresses God with or for the people (chiefly in the confession and in the prayers), he faces the same way as the people, and towards God, whose presence the altar symbolises. When the liturgist addresses God’s word(s) to the people (e.g. in the absolution, in the readings), he faces the people whom he addresses.

Because it’s polite to face whomever you address. And it doesn’t make sense to do otherwise.

So which way should the liturgist face during the liturgy of the sacrament? Some of that liturgy is addressed to the people (the Preface), some to God (the Proper Preface and eucharistic prayers, the Lord’s Prayer, the Sanctus & Benedictus, the Agnus Dei). Easy enough.

But what about the Words of Institution? Who are they addressed to? If they are embedded in the eucharistic prayer, as they are in many traditions, they are addressed to God. Simple.

And if they were addressed to the people, as a sort of additional Gospel reading accompanying the celebration of the sacrament, versus populum would make sense.

But in Lutheran theology at least, they are not addressed to the people. They are the Words of Institution—not merely the historical institution of the sacrament in general, but the institution of the sacrament there and then. The words do what they say, that is they bring about the sacramental union of the body and blood of the Lord with the bread and the wine. In other words, the Words of Institution are addressed to the elements.

And this is not unimportant or merely technical. The Sacrament is the Gospel: it is where the word ceases to be information for the ears and becomes a tangible reality. It is where the crucified and risen body of Jesus, which is the Temple of God on earth, meets with our mortal bodies as the medicine of immortality. And therefore the Words of Institution are the Gospel precisely when the congregation eavesdrops on them, hearing them pronounced over the elements for their good. As long as they are addressed to the people, they remain historical information without direct contemporary relevance or benefit.

And this, to my mind, is a key argument against the increasingly common, and historically pretty unheard-of, practice of versus populum celebration of the Sacrament in the modern style: with the celebrant positioned behind a free-standing altar, facing the people over the altar. It removes the priest from the people, and it turns the congregation into an audience being addressed, as if God were declaring the Words of Institution to the people as well as the elements.

Now it’s true that Luther suggested that the consecration should be done versus populum, although he never did anything about it. I used to share his argument. In fact, one of my very few printed publications makes that case. And so when I say that I disagree with Luther on this point, I also disagree with myself. Which I hope makes it OK.

Anyway, as it happens, Luther did nothing about it, and neither did any other Lutherans.

Not until Vatican II anyway, when Rome introduced free-standing altars and versus populum celebration for entirely different and rather un-Lutheran reasons: better to include the people in the sacrifice with the people. It makes poor sense in Roman Catholic theology, as my good friend and Roman Catholic priest tells me, and it doesn’t make any better sense in Lutheranism. And it’s pretty ironic that we should be aping Vatican II practices at all, given that they are solutions to problems for which we had much better solutions in the 1500s.

Because what Luther did do was to break the silence over the Words of Institution. In the mediæval Canon of the Mass (and after Trent as well), the Words of Institution were said silently by the priest. Luther had them not merely spoken aloud, but chanted to the Gospel tone! And by this radical yet simple device, Luther turned the Words of Institution into the Gospel they are in the most effective possible way. No need for the pastor to face awkwardly towards the congregation, no need for re-ordering churches. No need to break with catholic tradition that pre-dates the corruption of the Mass in the Middle Ages, just to make the point, which hadn’t been lost anyway.

And he was clean

Sermon preached at Our Saviour Lutheran Church, Fareham on 23 January 2011, Epiphany 4 [typos and all]

Naaman is one of those characters in the Bible whose story is familiar to almost everyone who has been to Sunday School for any length of time. Every time I read or hear the story myself, images of the fuzzy felt storyboard from my own Sunday School in the early ‘70s and ‘80s come flooding back.

And like so many of the biblical characters we encounter through Sunday School, Naaman gets a bit of a rough deal. He comes across as something of an anti-hero: he is the enemy general who has vanquished God’s people in battle, killed their king, kidnapped a poor Israelite girl as a slave, who shows no faith in the promise God makes through His prophet, and who is saved only after his servants persuade him to listen to the prophet. However, even a brief moment of self-scrutiny should make us realise that this is hardly fair on Naaman: he is certainly no worse than us. At every turn his reactions are just what you would expect from any normal, rational person. This passage is not a story about Naaman’s foolishness—it is a story about God’s foolishness, about how God saves us through wonderfully foolish means.

Continue reading And he was clean