CRAFTING WORSHIP: Advent / Christmas / Epiphany Composed by Paul F. Bosch and edited by Andre Lavergne. This material originally appeared in Section 4 of GATHERED FOR WORSHIP (c) 1995 Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada. CRAFTING WORSHIP is posted to the World-Wide Web at LIFT UP YOUR HEARTS home page of the ELCIC's Working Group on Worship. Section and page numbers refer to GATHERED FOR WORSHIP. Communities are free to use this material with acknowledgment. ---------- Advent 1: Eschatological Anticipation The First Sunday in Advent introduces a new church year. Honouring the wisdom of tradition, the Christian community celebrates days and seasons of festival following the great feasts of Easter and Christmas. By a similar instinct, the church observes days and seasons of greater austerity--"of fasting"--as prelude to these great, formative faith-events. Advent is thus the relatively more austere season of preparation for the feast of Christmas- Epiphany. Advent is not so much, however, a "little Lent," as a season of eschatological anticipation: as Christ came in Bethlehem's babe, so he will come in glory at the End of the Age, and so he comes among us weekly in Word and Sacrament. See this section, Advent 4, page 9, for elaborations and options in worship practice for the season. Advent 2: Counter-Cultural Witness The colour for Advent is blue--a significant counter-cultural witness in a consumerist age, when Christmas decorations (always in red and green!) appear in shopping centres as early as Halloween, if not Labour Day! The mood of the Christian community in these pre-Christmas weeks is more austere than that of "the world." Our celebration will surely come: with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and with the "Twelve Days of Christmas" that follow. Until then, we sing Advent hymns, not Christmas carols, and our church interiors are vested in blue (or purple). By this deliberate counter- cultural witness, we are reminding ourselves of an important reality: that the values of the Christian community are not the values of a society obsessed by consumerism. Advent 3: Liturgical Change Since the universal Church honours the tradition of beginning a new calendar year with the First Sunday in Advent, congregations might take advantage of this convention to introduce any significant liturgical changes each year on this day. In that way, the inevitable dislocations of popular piety that could accompany the introduction of the common loaf or common cup, for example, into a congregation's practice can be greatly mitigated if a parish becomes accustomed to the tradition of major liturgical changes occurring on the First Sunday in Advent every year. Such changes, of course, would have been thoroughly discussed and approved by the worship committee and congregational council, well before implementing. Advent 4: Celebrating Advent The pre-service Order for Confession and Forgiveness may be led from the font, the people gathered at the waters of their baptism, worship leaders and people processing then into the nave at the entrance hymn. (A real entrance!) The Kyrie is sung, but not the Hymn of Praise. The Advent wreath is lit by an acolyte at the reading of the First Lesson. The Creed is the Nicene. The Offertory, if not the proper Offertory, is the more austere "What shall I render." At the Great Thanksgiving, Eucharistic Prayer IV, modelled on Hippolytus' ancient words, may profitably be introduced to congregations unfamiliar with its majestic images. The Post-Communion is an Advent hymn, or Nunc Dimitis ("Lord, now you let"), more restrained in text and music than "Thank the Lord." Greens replace flowers in the decor of the worship space throughout the four weeks of Advent. Christmas Midnight: Primary Experience I An unprecedented ecumenical consensus has arisen in our day as to the essentials of Christian worship--a consensus unknown among Christians since before the Reformation. Part of that consensus is a growing conviction that modern people, surrounded as we are on every hand by the phony, the artificial, and the "plastic," are hungry for what might be called primary experience: the caring touch of a human hand in blessing, the fragrance of scented oil in anointing, the glow of real candlelight--as for example in a Christmas Eve candlelight service! Within the constraints of local fire department safety regulations, of course, parishes will want to use real candlelight for Christmas Eve worship and real evergreens to decorate the worship space in order that nothing artificial will detract from the splendid, naked realities the incarnational realities!--of the occasion. An important theological principle is at stake, supremely at Christmas and Easter: that God the Maker of All Things chooses to pitch tent among us, to dwell among us, in our very real flesh. There is nothing plastic about the incarnation! For worship options, see this section, Christmas Day, page 15. Christmas Morning: Eschatological Prolepsis Both Christmas and Easter share a common theme: what might be called "eschatological prolepsis." This conviction, in simpler language, is that God in Christ has anticipated the coming of the Dominion of Heaven. The Kingdom of God--which "comes indeed without our prayer," as Luther reminds us--has in fact come already among us, in Christ, giving us authority to claim now, today, those gifts and graces which we would not otherwise be able to claim until Heaven. Christmas is the down-payment on a promise, delivered at Easter, that we need not wait for God's Dominion to come in its fullness. We have authority to act now on its assurances, forgiveness of sins, new life and salvation. Our celebration of Holy Communion today is supremely an eschatological prolepsis. At this meal we are enacting a preview of the Dominion of God. All are welcome, including the outcasts and marginalized, black and white, old and young, rich and poor, "Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female," women and children, with men! All feed on the same heavenly bread: the rich do not get too much, the poor do not leave with too little. And even adversaries greet each other with the sign of peace! Eschatological prolepsis indeed! Christmas Day: Celebrating Christmas For Christmas Day, and for the duration of its white season, through the Feast of Epiphany and its octave (this section, Baptism of Our Lord, page 23), congregations may begin worship directly with a festive procession at the entrance hymn, omitting the Brief Order for Confession and Forgiveness. Note that for every white day and season in our calendar, and for most red days and seasons as well, the Brief Order is not necessary. In any case, the entire service of Holy Communion represents supremely an act of reconciliation, so no one need feel cheated. Note further that LBW/PE rubric 1, page 57, stipulates that the Brief Order is an option, not a necessity, at Holy Communion. Today, we sing both Kyrie and Hymn of Praise. We use the angels' song to the shepherds at Bethlehem: "Glory to God." "This is the feast" features Easter images and metaphors. "Glory to God" is, therefore, the more appropriate Hymn of Praise at Christmas and during its season. The Creed is the Nicene. It could be sung to a simple monotone, on festive occasions like Christmas and its season, with organ or other instruments describing the "action" of the creed under the peoples' sung monotone. The Offertory, if not the proper Offertory, will be the festive "Let the vineyards," or a Christmas hymn. The festive ecumenical Eucharistic Prayer II (LBW) might laudably be introduced during Christmas and its season to congregations unfamiliar with it. The Post-Communion might feature the more festive "Thank the Lord," or a joyous Christmas hymn or carol. A Christmas tree decorates the space, and flowers return after their Advent absence. The venerable custom of exchanging gifts at Christmas is rightfully a part of Christian tradition, but need not be an occasion for an excess of consumerist extravagance. The instinct that gives rise to the exchange of gifts among loved ones should not be despised. At heart, it is an attempt to make the day (or the season) memorable. It is an attempt, particularly with children, to encourage their eager anticipation of the day. And yes, Christmas itself is a full season of Twelve Days, ending at Epiphany ("Twelfth Night"). To anticipate the festivities of Christmas in Advent, and to forget the feast immediately on December 26, is to cheat ourselves, and to miss out on an opportunity to make an important counter-cultural witness. Christmas 1: Gospel En-fleshment A noted theologian suggests that the Christian faith is self-consciously the most materialistic of the world's religions. The conviction that supports this view is expressed in the pre-Reformation formula Finitus est capax infiniti: the finite can contain and show forth the infinite. The church's affirmation at Christmas is unashamedly materialistic: God has made this world in such a way that the finite, the physical, the material can serve as a vehicle for a heavenly invasion of our world. The bread and cup of Communion, the waters of Baptism, even the personality and temperament of this particular preacher, that particular teacher, parent or friend--each of these can represent an incarnation, an en-fleshment of the Gospel of God's grace. More than that, God does not come to us apart from this very real flesh. Christmas 2: None Epiphany: Celebrating Epiphany The Epiphany is an occasion for recalling that Jesus has been revealed to the nations. With this in mind, tradition has assigned distinctive ethnic characteristics to the Three Kings: Oriental, African, and Occidental. Many parishes use the season to highlight the church's responsibilities in mission. Martyria, Greek for witness, is one of the three grand New Testament terms for the church's programmatic responsibilities. The others are koinonia, that is, communion or community and diakonia, or service. It is traditional on this day in some parishes to announce the major dates of the coming church year--the date for Ash Wednesday, Easter etc.--although this could alternatively be done on the First Sunday in Advent. Many parishes celebrate Twelfth Night by gathering outdoors for the "Burning of the Greens:" to sing carols, read scripture, and, with fire department permission and supervision, to burn the greens collected from church and home. Finally, some parishes provide members and friends with a simple order for an Epiphany blessing of the home, featuring the chalking of the door (see below). Worship on this day retains--or enlarges!--the ceremonial opulence noted above for Christmas (this section, Christmas Day, page 15). CHALKING THE DOOR [On the Feast of the Epiphany, January 6, family and friends gather at the main entrances to homes or apartments (nursing home quarters, extended care facility, hospital rooms!), and ask God's blessing on their dwellings and on all who live or visit there.] [Leadership may be shared with a change of voice at each "L."] L Peace be to this house and to all who enter here. L A reading from Proverbs: "By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures." L Let us pray: Gracious God, as a shining star once guided the magi to the birthplace of the infant Jesus, so enable those who dwell here to be your light in the world; through Jesus Christ we pray. R Amen. [Using chalk (hence, "Chalking the Door"), people are invited to inscribe the lintel of the home (the horizontal frame above the door) with the inscription shown below. The letters C M B come from the traditional (9th century) names for the "three kings" -- Caspar, Melchior & Balthazar. Some also suggest "Christus Mansionem Benedicat" which means "May Christ bless this dwelling!"] [Each person is afforded a turn to make one or more of the marks:] 19 + C + M + B + 97 L A reading from Isaiah: "The effect of righteousness is peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever. My people will abide in a peaceful habitation, in secure dwellings, and quiet places." [People may join hands or extend their hands outward and upward (orans) for the prayers.] L Let us pray: Sovereign God, we pray that you will bless this home and all who live here with your gracious presence, that your love may be our inspiration, your wisdom our guide, your truth our light, and your peace our benediction; through Jesus Christ we pray. R Amen. L Lord, remember your children and teach us to pray: R Our Father... [People may make the sign of the cross where indicated (+) in remembrance of their baptism.] L May the Lord watch (+) over our going out and our coming in, from this time forth and forevermore. R Amen. Baptism of Our Lord: Primary Experience II The colour white remains in our vestments and paraments for this day, the so-called "octave" (the eighth day) of Epiphany. The day recalls Jesus' Baptism and provides an occasion for celebrating Holy Baptism within our own assemblies. It is well to recall that candidates for Baptism in an earlier age disrobed, to be baptized naked, as a sign of their willingness to put aside all that pertained to the old life. Moreover, they were baptized by immersion. Are there ways for parishes to baptize today in such a way as to suggest these potent signs? Surely infants can be baptized naked without causing undue offense. Can adult candidates at least remove a jacket or shirt? Can copious amounts of water be used, at every Baptism? We trivialize the sacraments when, out of concern for convenience or efficiency, we settle for sacramental minimalism. See below, section 6, Proper 25, page 39, on Enlarging the Sign. Epiphany 2 / Proper 2: Celebrating Ordinary Time I After the relative ceremonial opulence of the Christmas-Epiphany season, we return to a more modest liturgy. These are the "ordinary days" of the church's year, neither "feasts" nor "fasts." The days after the octave of Epiphany, like the days after the octave of Pentecost, feature the green colour that is meant to recall the growth-in-grace of our daily discipline as followers of Christ. Worship options do not suggest a mood of penitence or austerity, so much as simplicity. The Brief Order for Confession may return, after its Christmas- Epiphany absence, but in a standing, not kneeling, posture. The Kyrie and Hymn of Praise might both be omitted (moving after the Apostolic Greeting directly to the Prayer of the Day and the reading of scripture) or they may be replaced by a congregational hymn. Alternatively, the Kyrie may be omitted--reserved for Lent--and the Hymn of Praise ("Glory to God") used alone. The creed may be omitted, but, if retained, the Apostles' Creed is preferred. Epiphany 3 / Proper 3: Full Eucharistic Prayer Whatever simplicities are chosen, in a given parish, for this season of "ordinary days," worship leaders will not want to simplify the Holy Communion by selecting the option at rubric 32, LBW/ME, page 69: the form of Great Thanksgiving that uses only the verba (the so-called "words of institution"). This option was retained in the LBW as an unfortunate compromise, following 16th Century Lutheran use. It is now a distinctly Lutheran idiosyncrasy, rejected almost unanimously by the ecumenical consensus noted above (this section, Christmas Midnight, page 11). To be sure, Luther himself used the bare-bones verba, convinced that the medieval "Prayer of Thanksgiving" was irredeemable. But contemporary scholarship, including contemporary Lutheran scholarship, regards Luther's solution as ill-informed and understandably but unnecessarily radical. Contemporary liturgists enjoy access to scholarship simply inaccessible to Luther and his contemporaries. So today's ecumenical consensus affirms the propriety of setting the verba always within a eucharistic prayer or "Great Prayer of Thanksgiving." It is a typically Jewish thing that Jesus does here. Contemporary eucharistic prayers honour their Hebrew roots. The use of the verba within a eucharistic prayer is thus fully biblical and fully Lutheran--North American Lutherans have had access to such a prayer since the Service Book and Hymnal of 1958. The setting of the verba within a prayer, to be sure, obscures the old distinction between so-called sacramental moments and so-called sacrificial moments in our worship. But that is precisely the point. Our prayers echo their Jewish precursors when we pray (in a "sacrifice" of praise and thanks to God) with the implicit expectation that human beings are listening in (and thus, in effect, turning prayer into "sacrament:" a proclamation and enactment of God's mighty acts in Israel and in Christ). The use of the verba alone, apart from its setting in a eucharistic prayer, is to be discouraged, even in the simplest service. It represents a sectarian idiosyncrasy we may well leave behind, as Lutherans. If the service is to be shortened and simplified, there are other, better ways: omit the Brief Order for Confession; omit the Kyrie and Hymn of Praise; omit the Creed (see below, section 5, Lent 4, page 11); omit the "Lamb of God." Epiphany 4 / Proper 4: Epiphany Missions Emphasis It would be a mistake to allow the church year to become nothing more than a convenient framework for parading before worshippers a succession of current denominational programmatic concerns. The church year possesses its own integrity, and should not routinely be suborned to less lofty purposes. Nevertheless, since one of the traditional themes of the Epiphany season is the manifestation of Christ "to the nations" (see above, this section, Epiphany, page 21), these weeks might also legitimately become a time to spotlight denominational foreign mission programs and people. And of course we should be aware that the term "foreign" is today highly problematic: North America is itself as fertile a "mission field" as the Gospel is likely to encounter anywhere! Epiphany 5 / Proper 5: Tracing the Sign of the Cross A new friend, an amateur but exceedingly well-informed student of patristics, has suggested the origins of the custom of signing oneself with the cross at the words "I believe in the resurrection of the body" in the Apostles' Creed. Apparently at an early age in the history of the Christian church, a challenge arose to threaten traditional orthodox understandings of the resurrection. This heresy maintained an essential irredeemable quality in human bodiliness; and that therefore, at the resurrection, according to this view, you were raised, not in this doomed and irredeemable body, but in another. In refutation of this heresy, orthodox Christians began the custom of crossing themselves at these words in the Creed, as if to say, "I believe in the resurrection of the body--this body, the very body I am now touching." (Let us hope, however, that when we are raised, in this very flesh, I won't need these hearing aids; you won't need those eyeglasses!) The custom of making the sign of the cross upon oneself--the fingertips touching first the forehead, then breast, then one shoulder, then the other shoulder, then back to the breast--is thus an ancient and honourable custom, and might well be encouraged among worshippers. It is not magic, but rather a kind of enacted prayer: the body commits itself to the words of a petition or blessing, spoken or internalized. LBW suggests making the sign of the cross at several moments in our worship, each of them marked with a small red cross in the text of the rite. It is suggested, for example, at the invocation, at the beginning of the Brief Order for Confession; at the words of absolution at the conclusion of that rite; at the benediction at the end of the service. It is appropriate whenever the name of Jesus is mentioned in worship. But remember, it is heavy stuff. By this gesture you are marking your own body with the cross of Christ's suffering; you are taking the cross of Christ into your own psyche, into your own discipleship. Incidentally, at the invocation before the confession, the presiding minister does not mark the cross upon the people, as in a blessing, but rather joins the people in marking the cross upon herself / himself. Its use is intended in the invocation, not as a blessing, but rather as a personal gestural profession of discipleship, in which the presiding minister, significantly, joins the people. And no, it does not matter whether you touch right shoulder or left shoulder first: Roman (Western) Christians do it one way; Greek (Eastern) Christians the other. Epiphany 6 / Proper 6: Re-Orienting... Primitive, Papal and Presbyterian! The practice of orienting (literally, facing east) was a familiar feature in the worship of North American Lutherans a generation ago, and indeed a familiar feature in all the so-called "liturgical churches" of the West: Lutheran, Anglican, and Roman Catholic. Pastors in these "liturgical" churches were taught to orient. During so-called "sacramental" moments in worship, we were to face "west," to face the people. We were taught to face "east," towards the altar, our backs to the people, during so-called "sacrificial" moments, such as during prayer. Because the practice was foreign to most Reformed and so-called "Free Church" traditions, newcomers to the liturgical churches found the practice puzzling, and Lutheran pastors often found themselves in the position of having to interpret it. Indeed, it was often regarded, in those days, as the single most characteristic feature of "liturgical" worship. Orienting often became our identifying mark, as a "liturgical" church: a great altar, bolted flat against the "east" wall, with the pastor facing "east" or "west," depending on the presumed direction of discourse--from God to people (facing "west") or from people to God (facing "east"). The practice made some sense when it was interpreted in these terms. The effect of orienting, in those days, particularly at moments like the Brief Order for Confession, was a kind of solo liturgical dance performed by the presider: facing "west" for the invocation; turning to face "east" for "Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open...;" turning "west" again at the invitation to confession; turning "east" again at the prayer of confession; and finally turning "west" yet again for the absolution. The Second Vatican Council changed all that. Out from the "east" wall came the altars in Roman Catholic churches around the world, in one fell swoop, in Advent of 1963. Altars were once again free- standing tables for the holy meal--as indeed they had been for most of Christian history. The practice of orienting then became problematic. When the altar is free-standing, that is, there is no longer any need to orient. More than that, in worship with a free-standing altar, orienting becomes a meaningless ritual relic. Repercussions from the architectural reforms of Vatican II can hardly be exaggerated, and are still being elaborated. LBW itself was designed with a firm (Lutheran) endorsement of the Council's reforms. The free-standing altar has made all the difference (see below, section 6, Proper 29, page 47, on One Room for Worship). In a worship space that features a free-standing altar, the old distinction between "sacrificial" and "sacramental" moments is effectively obscured, if not obliterated. This is no great loss since Jewish prayer has always understood itself, simultaneously, as both. The classic berakah could be described as a speaking to God which at the same time has the character of proclamation, since others are listening in. The church's public prayer, it follows, may be led facing east, west, north, or south. In fact, Christian community is nurtured when the assembly begins to think of itself as gathering radially around a centre, rather than as marching facelessly, row upon row, into the "east." The practice of the pastor presiding at the meal from behind the table, versus populum (facing the people) has overwhelming historic precedent: it was the universal practice in the early Church; it has always been the privilege of the Pope when presiding at St. Peter's in Rome; and of course it is favoured in reformed and free church pieties. It is thus, as one wag puts it, at once "primitive, papal, and presbyterian." There is not much in Christian history of which that can be said! The bottom line is that if you serve in a worship space which features a free- standing table-altar, rejoice, and devote time, imagination and energy to exploiting its splendid possibilities for nurturing community. Think of your worship space, always, as radial--even if it is, in fact, strongly axial. Encourage, for example, assisting ministers to face the table, during prayers, from the "south" or "north"--at 90 degrees to the building's axis, that is. Resist the temptation to orient, in moments like the Confession as described above. Resist the temptation even to "reverence" in an "eastward" direction. Remember, the people are themselves the Holy Communion--not the altar cross; not the altar; not even Jerusalem, the Holy City in the "east." And if you serve in a building with an "east-wall" altar, you have some homework to do. Prepare yourself and your people to devote time, energy, imagination, and resources to adapting your space--remodelling it?--to more congenial arrangements. Recall Luther's theological distaste for the medieval "east- wall" altar. Import a handsome library table to serve as temporary free- standing altar; honour the existing "east-wall" altar by using it as a credence table. An adventure awaits you! Epiphany 7 / Proper 7: None Epipany 8 / Proper 8: Rare Opportunity for Preaching The length of the post-Epiphany season, like the length of the post-Pentecost season, depends on the date of Easter. When Easter is early, the post- Epiphany season is necessarily shorter; when Easter is late, the post- Epiphany season is longer. (In each case, of course, the reverse is true of the post-Pentecost season: an early Easter means a longer post-Pentecost season, for example.) So the pericopes for this late-Epiphany Sunday will only rarely be heard among us. A prudent preacher will want to capitalize on this unfamiliarity: these are splendid texts! Transfiguration: Celebrating Transfiguration In some Christian traditions the Festival of the Transfiguration is celebrated on August 6. But its position here as the Sunday which closes the Epiphany season, just before Lent begins on Ash Wednesday is inspired. It has the effect of rescuing this important event from the typical inconstancies of mid-week Summer worship schedules, affording a satisfying and graceful transition from Epiphany to Lent, and providing a more substantial showcase for the themes of the day. Is the Transfiguration a post-resurrection appearance misplaced to an earlier date by the evangelist? Or is it legitimately its own unique pericope: a preview of coming attractions? In any case, preachers will be forgiven for mis-interpreting the Gospel texts for the day, at least at first instinct, as a kind of "Superman pericope": Mild-mannered Clark Kent steps into the phone booth and emerges to reveal himself as the Man of Steel, "able to leap tall buildings in a single bound" that kind of thing. But the temptation to treat these texts thus should probably be resisted; better to focus on those gracious words from the cloud, "This is my Son, my beloved...," and to apply them to the gathered congregation as well. In Christ we are to serve as "Christ" to one another, as Luther reminds us. Significantly, says a Luther scholar, the diminutive "little Christ" is nowhere present in Luther. Luther maintains we are to serve simply "as Christ." The anointing with oil in Baptism is a recurring reminder of that honour: "Christ" is Greek for "anointed." "Messiah" is the same in Hebrew. It follows that in Baptism we are anointed, that is, "made Christ." To coin a phrase, in Baptism we are set apart to share in Jesus' own "messiahing" of the world. "This is my child, my beloved..." is thus, in Baptism, addressed to each believer. The colour of Transfiguration is again the white of celebration. The Confession is omitted (as on all white days and seasons); both Kyrie and Hymn of Praise ("Glory to God") are used; the Creed (Nicene) may be chanted (see above, this section, Christmas Day, page 15); rousing psalm- settings and the brighter canticles ("Let the vineyards") sung.