Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Sing and Pray Twice

Paraphrasing St. Augustine, The Rev. Maly Hughes, former priest executive at St. Tim's, used to say "When you sing, you pray twice."  The St.Tim's band plays songs that get us praying twice and our hands clapping, but for me it is in the familiar hymns of the 1982 Hymnal when I feel closest to praying once, if not twice.  And when I visit a church, I feel especially welcomed when I hear the familiar notes of an old favorite.  

The website anglicansonline.org ran a poll in 2012 for the favorite hymns of Anglicans from around the world. Guide me, thou great Jehovah (#690) placed first.  (Are you as shocked as I am?  I don't know this hymn and suspect some ballot box stuffing by proud Welshmen who claim the author as their own, though the tune is instantly familiar.)  Be thou my vision (#488) and I bind myself unto thee this day (#370, and the winner for the poll's 2003 iteration) tied for second. 

While this Sunday's traditional hymn #518 Christ is made the sure foundation didn't make Anglican Online's top 10, it was sung at the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer in 1981, reportedly at Diana's request.  The hymn's lyrics were translated by John Mason Neale from a Latin monastic hymn.  Neale was born in London in 1818 and was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge.  Greatly influenced by the Anglican Church's Oxford Movement, he is best known as a hymn writer and especially a translator of ancient hymns.  He spoke 21 languages including Latin and Greek.  We sang his All glory laud and honor on Palm Sunday and O Come, O come Emmanuel during Advent. Neale died in 1866. The tune is Westminster Abbey composed by Henry Purcell.  

Sing and pray twice this Sunday.  --Amy Phillips Witzke

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

You've Got Mail

Who doesn't love to get mail?  Most days I am greeted by bills and flyers at my mailbox, though there is an occasional postcard from Mark in China, or a thank-you note for a kindness, but very seldom is there a letter.  Email and texts are the letters for today. But would Martin Luther King Jr.'s Letter from Birmingham Jail had as much impact if it had been written as an email?  What about the letters in our Bible?  Can you imagine the good people of Corinth gathering around the latest text from Apostle Paul?

Our Bible contains 21 letters, or epistles, in the New Testament.  Thirteen of these are attributed to the Apostle Paul.  He was busy sending advice to the new Christians in Rome, Corinth, Galatia, Ephesus, Philippi, Colossae and Thessalonica.  He also had time to send a few missives to his pals Timothy, Titus and Philomen.  And several of these epistles were written while he was imprisoned.

The other epistles are called "general" or "catholic" (note the lower-case c) epistles.  Their authorship is attributed to Peter and John, among others.

This summer, according to the Revised Common Lectionary, we are reading the epistles of Paul beginning with his second letter to Corinth and then his letter to Ephesus.  Lisa will be leading a discussion of each week's reading beginning at about 9 am.  Lisa describes Paul as an interesting fellow.  "Persecutor turned proselyte, Paul took a fledgling movement and gave it wings to fly.  Without him, Christianity may have never flourished."  She promises to start off this first week's discussion with her own homemade biscuits and possibly grits from the Grits King--Bill McIndoo.

Biblical scholars have not discovered any proof that Paul included biscuits or grits as care packages with his letters.  But the fact that Christianity did indeed flourish has me thinking there must have been a few biscuits, if not grits, included with those letters.
--Amy Phillips Witzke 

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

The Episcopal Church Welcomes You, but not in my pew

A couple of years ago, my sister and I spent a weekend in New York City seeing Broadway shows and a taping of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.  For Colbert, we sat in the second row, two seats in from the aisle, center stage right.  I now watch the show nearly every night to see, among other things, who is sitting in my seat.



So my eagerness to claim my same pew every Sunday shouldn't surprise anyone. Friends at St. Tim's have long teased me about my need to sit in my pew and seat--second row, two seats in from the aisle, center "stage" right.  (Or as my father would say, "gospel side.")  But when you look around, most people generally sit in the same seats each week, right?  Though, I'm probably the only one who actually frets about getting to church early enough to avoid missing out on my pew.

Pews came into use in churches after the Protestant Reformation when long sermons became central to Protestant worship.   Churchgoers wanted to hear the word of God, but sitting down.  When the Anglican Church came to America before the Revolution, churches were built with high-backed pews that often had a door to keep out drafts and undesirables (human and nonhuman.)  While churches in England were state supported, American churches needed to find other sources of income.  Selling or renting the best seats in the house became a way of raising cash for a church.   Families chose pews so they would have a good view of the service.  (Or so that others could have a good view of the family.)   Pews were often labeled with a brass plaque with the family's name, and were used by the family for several generations.  Pews could also be bought and sold at prevailing rates much like stock.  Imagine seeing the price of your pew fluctuate and guessing when to buy low and sell high.  A chart in the narthex would alert visitors to which pews were unclaimed. And woe to anyone who sat in a claimed pew.  Ushers in those days could be called upon to unwelcome a visitor.  The selling and renting of pews fell out of favor in the middle of the last century.  Because didn't Jesus say something about "...do not sit down at the place of honor...For all who exalt themselves will be humbled and and those who humble themselves will be exalted" and "Woe to you Pharisees!  For you love to have the seat of honor in the synagogues and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces"?

So don't be concerned if you see me in a different pew this Sunday.  While I don't mind being greeted with respect in the marketplaces, I'd rather not be counted among the Pharisees.  --Amy Phillips Witzke



Wednesday, June 6, 2018

Prayers of the Puppers

Getting up earlier on Sunday mornings for our summer combined services has not been that difficult for me.  It has, however, confused my dog.  Winston knows what time it is without looking at any clock.  His inner clock is timed to his walks.  Walking earlier on Sundays has messed with that clock.

St. Tim’s will combine the 9 am family service and the 11 am slightly-more-traditional service for most of the summer. The best of both services will be included. During the adult sermon, the children will be led into the prayer garden where they will devise their own Prayers of the People.  It has been quite illuminating the last two weeks to hear the heartfelt prayers of the children.  They are grateful for the coming of summer and no school-- perhaps more grateful than their parents.  The existence of the planet Jupiter has also gotten a shoutout.  The team is working to create space in the combined service for a balance of music styles as well.  

Will Watkins and the liturgy and worship team suggested the idea as a way to “capitalize on the enthusiasm everyone has been expressing from the joint services we’ve held over the past couple of years.”  The team also looks forward to building community by cementing relationships between the two services. 

After the service, we are encouraged to stay and share hospitality under the oak tree.  Plus, beginning on June 24, you’re invited to share breakfast before the 10 am service (beginning around 9 am) and discuss each Sunday's Epistle reading in Edwards Hall led by Rev. Lisa. 

Winston will, I’m sure, get used to the new routine quickly.  His own Prayers of the People (and Puppers) include being grateful for belly-rubs and long walks.  Jupiter, not so much. --Amy Phillips Witzke