Instructed Eucharist, Part 1

I was asked by a colleague to prepare an instructed Eucharist for his congregation. Here (in two parts) is my instruction.

We Gather in Community

You may have participated in an Instructed Eucharist before. I know I have. However, my intent is that this one will be different. This is not going to be a step-by-step instruction of “this is how we do it.” Rather, it will focus more on what we intend to do. 

I have a couple of reasons for this. The most important is that, across the history of the Episcopal Church, and even across the history of Christianity, there have been many different ways of doing things. Some of us have heard, “We stand to praise, we sit to listen, we kneel to pray;” but, then, many Christians, and some of us, hardly ever kneel. As you enter, do you kneel, bow, or just take your seat? Make the sign of the cross or not? These are matters of personal piety, decisions for you to make in your relationship with God. They are not matters for judging another person or another congregation as right or wrong.

The themes and purposes of the liturgy, though, do not change. My intent is that after this morning you will be able to see them lived out in another person or congregation, Episcopal or otherwise, even if they seem to live them out differently than we have at Resurrection; and that seeing them lived out, you will be able to embrace our common Christian life.

So, to begin: to begin with, we gather. More important, we gather with purpose. We gather for formation – to be formed as a community, and to be conformed to Christ.  For that formation process we share in liturgy, from the Greek “the work of the people.” It is what we do, how we celebrate. Pay attention today as we celebrate together. 

Liturgy of the Word: We gather to hear the story; with prayers we begin to shape the story.

As individuals and as communities we are formed by stories. As Christians we are formed by the stories of those who have walked before God – by the stories of our Hebrew forebears; of those who walked with Jesus, God’s Story made flesh; and of those who ever since have sought to bring that story forward. 

That is why we are people of the Word and people of words. The Word Made Flesh is how God shared God’s story with us; and our words are how we share stories with one another. So it is we begin with the Liturgy of the Word: our work together with the Word.

We begin by hearing the Word – hearing it again, for we follow cycles that bring us through the stories again and again. In reading Scripture we hear and recall the story. In sermon and homily we have the opportunity to reflect on how the story is meaningful in our life and times. In our prayers we seek to apply the story in our life and times; for, we are asking God to act, to continue to shape the story. In Confession we acknowledge that we are accountable for how we participate in the story, or how we fail in the effort. In response we hear again the declaration of God’s Word: forgiveness offered for all.

As Episcopalians, heirs of the Anglican tradition, and of nearly two thousand years of Christian tradition, we use words selected with great care. Remember, this is to form us and to conform us to Christ. So, from generation to generation we ask our scholars to review with us again those words that can be resources for our formation. It is not that these are the only words we may use, but they provide the framework we use so that, over time, nothing important is lost. Think of it this way: think of how our Olympic athletes have trained, an image that Paul also used. All train hard, but not all train alike. The downhill skier does not train like the artistic skater, nor the biathlete like the curler. We train for the Christian faith and life, in the Anglican and Episcopal tradition. Like the athlete, we have some things in common with any person of faith. We also have these words and habits that shape the distinctive ways we are formed for life that is generally Christian and specifically Episcopal.

So, pay attention to the words. We say of Scripture that we should “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest;” and I invite you to do the same with the words of the liturgy. Certainly, let them sink into your heart. And, also, let them rattle in your mind. Hear them. Hear the words and the stories, both to embrace them, and also, like Jacob, to wrestle with them. We are formed best when, like athletes, we both embrace the story and also are conscientious about how we might improve in it.