Last Sunday’s adult formation conversation led by Bonnie Hoffman-Adams was remarkable. As I listened to parishioners speak, I gave silent thanks for the profound depth of spirituality and theological intelligence present in this parish. I listened as two parishioners reflected on their experience in another parish many years ago in which the liturgies of Holy Week and Easter were considered so special and so essential to salvation that no one in the parish would have thought of missing them! Can you imagine that? That comment inspired me, and I thought what a magnificent dream it would be for us at Good Shepherd. Imagine if no one in the parish could bear to miss out on the extraordinary liturgies of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Great Vigil and First Mass of Easter. Imagine planning your lives so that you wouldn’t miss these saving liturgies of the Christian faith.
I heard several consistent themes during last Sunday’s rich conversation. It was clearly expressed that Good Shepherd is unusual among many parishes in our commitment to the Book of Common Prayer’s expectations for public worship. Mass is celebrated frequently (and, of course, as the principal service on the Lord’s Day) and the Daily Office is prayed nearly every day here. I also heard parishioners rejoicing in the loveliness of our size right now. We’re still small (but not too small!), and so there’s a wonderful openness to fresh ideas and very little territorialism around ministries. There’s also a (unique?) opportunity to inculcate a culture of intense prayer in this parish, especially as we’re not yet too big and diffuse to do so. I also heard a desire to preserve the warmth and openness of our parish in its current size even as we grow. And finally, I heard a real desire to figure out how we could mutually encourage one another, so that anyone who misses a Sunday at Mass will know they’re missed. In other words, how do we call one another into a deeper prayer life?
So, I return to my original musing. Imagine if none of us could bear the thought of missing the Church’s important liturgies. I think that realizing that dream is more than setting out to do it. I believe it begins with something more prosaic, but also highly disciplined. It begins with establishing a regular rule of life.
A rule of life is not as rigid as it sounds. It’s merely a way of structuring one’s existence to ensure that it’s centered on God. We have “rules” in our “secular” lives. We probably rise at the same time most days. We go to work or school at a set time. We exercise at specified times. In other words, we build a skeletal structure for our days so that they have shape and focus. There are times when we deviate from our “rules,” and that’s okay. But a life without a “rule” is as shapeless as an amoeba.
The late Anglican ascetic and pastoral theologian Martin Thornton writes of “The Christian Framework” in his book Christian Proficiency (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 1988). This framework is essentially a rule, or as he puts it, “the frame or supporting structure of the ‘Body’” (17). Thornton describes the Church’s threefold rule as the Mass, the Daily Office, and private prayer (20). He uses an analogy to explain how these parts of the rule relate to the Body of Christ. He writes, “dare we think of the Eucharist as the living heart of the Body of Christ, the Office as its continual beat, its pulse, and private prayer as the circulation of the blood giving life and strength to its several members according to their need and capacity?” (17).
Good Shepherd, Rosemont, along with many of our sister Anglo-Catholic parishes, has established its public rhythm of prayer around this ancient threefold rule. Masses are offered not only on Sundays but on Major Holy Days and on other weekdays. (In the past, when there were more parishioners and multiple clergy, Masses were offered daily; on some days, two Masses were celebrated.) The Daily Office is prayed publicly Monday through Saturday, and some parishioners and I pray the Daily Office every day, even if not in public. Private prayer is, of course, ongoing in the lives of parishioners. In a time when it’s tempting to reject ancient “rules” of prayer so that we only do things “when we feel like it,” there’s much to be commended about traditional forms of prayer. Indeed, in our rather aimless age, we would benefit enormously from returning to our roots in this regard.
Martin Thornton makes yet another interesting point to which we should pay some attention. He writes of the “Christian Regular,” “one who chooses to undertake his common obligations and duties, and to develop his personal spirituality, by acknowledging, accepting or ‘embracing’ some total scheme, system, pattern or ‘Rule’ of prayer” (47). Maybe our dream for Good Shepherd is to become a parish full of Christian Regulars.
The regularity of our individual lives, while oriented around the Mass, Daily Office, and private prayer, will be shaped differently. As Thornton points out, rules of life are not inviolable or legalistic; they’re malleable and lifegiving. Each of us will need to establish our own way of integrating the three pieces of the ancient Church rule. But each of us can do this if we intend to do so. As I said in last week’s message, Lent is a time for greater intentionality in our lives. It’s a time to give form and shape to the chaos of our daily lives. It’s a time to put God at the center and to let our worship and praise of God animate all that we do.
It’s my deep conviction that the flourishing of ministry in this parish will be enabled by our collective commitment to being Christian Regulars. I believe that when we’re disciplined in our prayer lives, God habituates us to a remarkable openness to the Spirit, who lives and breathes among us. And that openness allows us to respond to God’s call in surprising and glorious ways.
Some of us may have more time to pray than others, and those of us who do will carry a certain amount of weight for the good of the whole Body. But all of us have time to do something. In our prayer, we’re not just aligning our lives to God as to a north star; we’re also supporting one another. To riff on St. Paul, the prayer of the Body’s foot is as essential as the prayer of the Body’s brain. We all have a role to play in our collective prayer life.
This Lent, would you consider becoming a Christian Regular? Would you consider patterning your day on our parish’s daily rhythm of prayer? If you can, come to the Daily Office in person. Maybe you need to start with allocating one day of the week on which you can pray one of the Offices. If you can’t attend in person, pray with us online. Try attending a daily Mass during the week if your schedule allows. And by all means, please prioritize attendance at Mass on the Lord’s Day. Remember that we have two Masses each Sunday, at 8 a.m. and 10:30 a.m.
To be a Christian Regular means that prayer suffuses our life so thoroughly that when we miss out on it—or when we miss a Sunday Mass or something that is part of our Rule—it feels irregular, like a heart skipping a beat. Some words of the late Roman Catholic priest Henri Nouwen may speak more to our hearts than Thornton’s valuable but “drier” way of describing the spiritual life. Nouwen felt a call in his own life to develop what he called “prophetic vision,” which is “looking at people and this world through the eyes of God . . . This is not an intellectual question. It is a question of vocation. I am called to enter into the inner sanctuary of my own being where God has chosen to dwell. The only way to that place is prayer, unceasing prayer. Many struggles and much pain can clear the way, but I am certain that only unceasing prayer can let me enter it” (The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming, New York: Doubleday, 1992, pp. 17-18). In a rule of life well conceived and prayed, we become whole, and our whole life becomes unceasing prayer. It starts with discipline, but it ends with freedom, the freedom that is nothing less than finding the abundant life that Christ brings and that is God’s unending gift to us.
Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle