Why We Are Not an "Office Church"
Any
practicing Anglican would know the importance of Evensong
in their spiritual lives. Any faithful Orthodox Christian
would be familiar with the "Vigil Service" of Easter. These
two Churches, and to some degree, other Protestant
denominations, celebrate a regular cycle of liturgical
prayer to mark the morning and evening.
The Orthodox Christian worship at the various hours is
essentially monastic and rather lengthy. The Orthodox
parish celebrations of the "All-Night Vigil" on Saturday
nights (which is actually not all night long) and the
Vigils of greater feasts is celebrated and, in some cases,
with large attendance. These celebrations are filled with
ritual incensations, venerations, gestures, and most of
all, the chanting of Psalms, hymns, and Scripture. The
impressive Vigil of the Holy Cross on 13 September is one
of the most beautiful of the year aside from the Vigil of
Easter. These "offices" (if the Orthodox would indulge this
reference) are the celebration of what the Western Church
would call Vespers and Compline. Many of these liturgies,
however, are celebrated in a language other than the
contemporary venacular and are reflective of the particular
Orthodox spirituality. Notwithstanding, although not
Eastern Rite, I have found these liturgies to be quite
uplifting and inspiring.
In the English-speaking world, I think it is important to
focus on the Anglican Communion's celebration of Morning
Prayer and Evensong. As a result of Cramner's production of
the Book of Common Prayer, "Morning Prayer" and "Evening
Prayer" became a standard part of the liturgical life of
the Church of England.
Cramner basically condensed Matins and Lauds into Morning
Prayer and Vespers and Compline into Evening Prayer. To
both were added a lectio continua lectionary and a
numerically progressive psalmody. As with so many other
things English from this period, the language is truly
classical. The Book of Common Prayer (BCP), in typical
Anglican via media fashion, left few instructions in the
rubrics of these service. This was an attempt to keep both
those who wanted a more "Protestant" liturgy" as well as a
more "Catholic" liturgy happy. It is perfectly acceptable
within the Church of England to say in common Morning
Prayer with a few hymns, no ceremony, choirs, or gestures.
Likewise, it is also acceptable to celebrate Evening Prayer
with full choir of men and boys, clergy in copes, incense,
and chant. There is even no specification that Morning and
Evening prayer could not be the regular Sunday worship of
the Anglican Communion.
After the Elizabethan Age, with the rise of the
Commonwealth and the increasingly more "Protestant"
influences within the Church of England, Morning Prayer
became the normal Sunday worship. In many places, the
Eucharist was reserved for only a couple of times a year.
The reasons for this trend, and its later reversal, do not
take away from the fact that Morning and Evening prayer
became ingrained in the spirituality of the Anglican
Communion. The familiarity of the services was beautified
by the contributions of three elements. First, since the
hymn was an integral part of the service, there was an
explosion of hymnody (as well as hymnal publishing) in the
Anglican Church as there had been in other Protestant
Churches. These hymns were translations of the Latin Office
hymns or new compositions.
Secondly, while there was congregational singing of the
hymns, the role of choirs became increasingly important.
While they had been present in pre-Reformation cathedrals,
they now were formed in local churches. With the rise of
choirs came the rise of the Anthem, a choir piece, based
usually on scripture, sung as a meditation. With the choirs
in place as a part of parish life, composers set out to
create pieces for them to sing. The most obvious was what
became the "sung Service." In the sung Service, the choir
sang for the people. The people's responses were set to
sometimes elaborate music. William Byrd's "Great Service"
is one of the most beautiful of these. Many liturgists
today comment (rightfully) on the need for "full and active
participation", they have taken this to mean that the
congregation should and must sing everything. The role of a
choir singing and the congregation listening to its music
is shunned. While the merits of this congregation versus
choir can be debated, it remains that a large body of music
was composed for choirs to inspire congregations. One
wonders in these debates how some one with a speech or
singing disability could ever fully and actively
participate in worship!
The third element is, in my opinion, the Church of
England's greatest gift to Christian worship. The
translation of the Psalms in the BCP was the Great Bible.
This time-bound classic was continued through various
translations of the BCP until recently. Since the Psalms
were meant to be sung (a point we will consider later)
there arose a need to sing them. The eight Gregorian tones
sufficed for the Psalms chanted in Latin, but now they were
sung in English. Anglican chants are simply two, four, six
or eight sectioned blocked harmonies which were composed
with the translation of the Psalms found in the BCP in
mind. The organ added expressive tonalities and variations
to the sentiments of the psalms. The in choro singing of
them (from one side of the formerly monastic choir stalls
to the other) added a differentiation and movement to the
Psalm as a whole. Most of all, the regular use of certain
melodies aided in committing the Psalms to memory. The
melodies were chosen according to the theme of the Psalm.
For instance, it would not make sense to choose the tone
normally used for Psalm 51 ("Have mercy on me O God") for
Psalm 150 ("O praise God in His holy place") and vice-
versa. These Anglican chants have found their way into the
praying of the Psalms beyond the Anglican Communion and
have added richly to the tradition of Christian liturgical
music.
This having been said, why then would I describe the
Catholic church as not an "Office Church" if these
traditions have their foundations in her? Simply put, we
never had a Reformation which reduced the primacy of the
Mass. The idea of substituting Morning Prayer for the
Sunday Mass is unthinkable to Catholics (as much as to
Orthodox). The Mass remains (as it should) the "supreme
prayer" of the Church. These wonderful and historically
conditioned developments of liturgical traditions within
many Protestant denominations, simply put, are not our own.
But the Office is our own tradition. Since the Rule of St.
Benedict, the Church has been praying Psalms in the Divine
Office whether it be in Notre Dame de Paris or a hut in the
missions. How, in the light of this lack of a "popular
Office" can the Church pray - liturgically - the Divine
Office? How can that lone missionary in his hut be doing
the exact same thing as the cleric in Paris with his
soaring choir?
To
answer this, and to form the basis of what liturgical
prayer is, we need to see how we distinguish liturgy from
rubrics and worship from "common action."
