Liturgy. Reading about it in Galli’s book Beyond Smells and Bells.
Struggling with quotes like this one…
The liturgy comes to us in many forms. There are liturgies for Sunday worship, and liturgies for special days, like Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. There are also daily liturgies that one can pray with others or alone. The paradox with these daily liturgies is that we never pray alone despite praying by ourselves. In saying the prayers of the Book of Common Prayer’s service of Morning Prayer, I’m praying with all who that morning are also praying it. And I’m praying prayers crafted not by my lonely piety, but by the church. I’m praying prayers that have their origin in another time and place… and thus I find myself mysteriously connected with believers that have gone before me.
Understand, yes, I understand the spirit of these thoughts. Am even drawn to them. And yet. This morning I sit with my “liturgy”…drinking Earl Grey in the sun, listening to bird calls and rustle of hemlocks and maples…hymns of nature that others have heard before me. I read not from the Book of Common Prayer but from Miller’s Celtic Devotions, songs from an ancient time and Psalms and the poetic thoughts of a modern Christian.
I do not feel a sense of lonely piety in this, nor in my own unique prayers, born of evenings and mornings and afternoons that I have seen, touched, felt. It is enough that I am human, imbued with Spirit and Word, set in time and sacred space on this hill…near these trees…under this sky… watching silken threads shining in the sun, spun last night by some small spider. It is enough.
Celtic Devotions on My Porch photo, by L.L. Barkat.
Christianne's My Space
LL's What's Your Meal Story?
Nikki's Extempory on Liturgy
A. Anjeanette's Clay as Liturgy
Ted's Holding Pfaltzgraff: Inclusion