This Sunday Abby and I went to our first “Solemn Mass” at the Church of the Advent. Until yesterday we’d been going to the earlier Sung Mass, which follows the Rite II Eucharist from the Book of Common Prayer pretty closely with just a couple of flourishes, such as the “Prayer of Humble Access.” In form and content, though, it’s not terribly different from the Lutheran liturgies we’re used to.
The Solemn Mass, though, is another animal. First off, it’s in Rite I language. There are also various “introits,” “graduals,” and “sentences” here and there whose provenance is somewhat unclear to me. But the most notable difference is that the Kyrie, the Gloria, the Sursum corda, and the Sanctus and Benedictus are all sung only by the choir and in Latin. The choir, which returned for the first time yesterday after being off for the summer, has a (well-deserved as far as I can tell) reputation for excellence and it was on full display. Another distinctively Anglo-Catholic touch was the responsive recitation of the Angelus at the very end of the service. With all these bells and whistles the whole affair stretched to about an hour and a half (and that’s with the sermon being less than fifteen minutes).
While there’s no denying the beauty of this form of worship, I couldn’t help but think that I was missing out on something by not directly participating as much. I’m no great singer (though I can carry a tune all right), but I find that singing the hymns and the liturgy enables me to worship in about as un-self-conscious a way as I’m able. When I’m passively observing, by contrast, I find it’s much more likely that my mind will wander. Part of what attracted me to liturgical worship in the first place is that we’re given the words with which to respond to God. One learns the language of prayer by speaking (or singing) it in the course of the service.
Don’t get me wrong, in many ways it was a wonderful service, and on a holy day in particular it’s hard to see how you could beat it, but I have a hard time imagining it as my “weekly bread.” Of course, I can’t discount the possibility that greater familiarity would change my experience. Or maybe I’m just too Protestant. 😉

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