Ritual and Ceremonial

III. The Nature of Ceremonial Law

…language, its purpose is obviously the same as that of the English Act of Uniformity. It establishes a standard Book, with which the custodian must compare all editions and certify to their correctness. It requires that this Book so certified and none other shall be used in all the public worship of the Church. Whatever liberty may be allowed for supplementary services, it is clearly not that of substitution except as provided in the Prayer Book itself. The question of interpolations, additions or amendments will be discussed later. For the offices provided by the Prayer Book that book itself must be used. Whatever considerations, practical, liturgical, or theological, may lead to the use of unauthorized books, whether in the celebration of the Holy Communion, or in the comparatively trivial matter of “mission leaflets,” all such are illegal. There is no doubt of the intent of General Convention.

The Prayer Book itself is, then, the fixed standard of worship. The Church intends that no priest or congregation shall have the right to change its language in any way. But we are dealing here with liturgical use, which in itself is not unlike human personality. It is a living thing, and cannot be altogether codified. An occasional altering of a phrase to suit a special emergency could hardly be condemned. The substitution of a synonym such as “Holy Spirit” for “Holy Ghost” at certain times and places to make the meaning clearer, or for the same reason the use of a paragraph in the Gospels and Epistles from the Revised Version, is sufficiently common to pass unnoticed. But on the other hand the offices as we have them represent the mature thought and experience of the Church. They are intended to express corporate rather than individual acts of worship. No priest, unless he is exceptionally gifted liturgically, is likely to be able to improve their language, even if it needs improvement (as some of it certainly does). Furthermore, the congregation has its rights which must be respected, and that is especially true when the change of language may carry with it obvious and intentional change of teaching. The question for the bishop or priest is thus carried back to the interpretation of his ordination vows. What does it mean when he pledges loyalty to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of the Church? His problem, it may be noted, is a part of the fundamental problem of the individual and the community. The intent of the Church is clear. Obedience and loyalty are expected. But with the wisdom which it shows in so many other ways, the Church does not expect slavish obedience. There must be a margin of freedom which rests upon the conscientious decision of the priest.

IV. The Authority of Rubrics

The difficult question of rubrics, which now comes into view, touches both ritual and ceremonial. What is the authority of a rubric? The disciplinary rubrics must of course be distinguished from the liturgical. The former have essentially the character of a canon. The directions for example concerning those who may not be admitted to Holy Communion are laws. They are not liturgical, and do not enter into our present discussion. On the other hand a liturgical rubric is not properly a law at all. Historically it comes from a pre-law day. It is a direction to ensure ease or uniformity in the conduct of the service. In the Prayer Book, however, liturgical rubrics such as those “concerning the service of the Church” have assumed far more than a mere directive authority. The Church does not say that some other devotions may be substituted for Morning or Evening Prayer in parish Churches “when expressly authorized by the Ordinary,” only to mean that any priest may make such a substitution when he thinks it desirable, without consulting the Bishop. On the other hand there are rubrics which have no such weight, and in our interpretation we must distinguish relative importance. There is for example no provision for only one lesson in Morning Prayer except when “the Holy Communion is immediately to follow”; but there could be no very serious objection to reading only one lesson on some special occasion, a commemoration service, e.g., with an especially long address, or when Confirmation is to take place.

The assumption which underlies the above statement, that the interpretation of rubrics rests in some degree with the priest, applies also to the matter of interpolations and additions. The intent of the Church is in the office; its spirit and meaning must not be tampered with. No one could seriously object on rubrical grounds to using the Nunc Dimittis or the Christmas Gospel at the close of the Communion Service. It is an entirely different matter to change the order of the office, or to put into it such a canticle as the Benedictus qui venit at a place where the Church has refused to permit it. To change the language of the Absolution so that it cannot mean what it is intended to mean, or to omit the Confession and Absolution altogether, is to tamper with the genius and spirit of the office. To substitute in the Baptismal service another form of questions to the sponsors, is to violate not only a long historic tradition but also the obvious intention of the Church. In such of the offices as have a quasi-private character, the temptation to alter or interpolate must be carefully guarded. Few Church people would object to the introduction of extra-liturgical prayers in the Burial Office. The practice is common; but there are two dangers. The office is in intent objective, relatively impersonal, fitted to express the attitude of the Church corporately in relation to a private sorrow. Its spirit is destroyed if, under the guise of prayers, personal eulogy creeps in. Furthermore, such interpolations are like the attempts of individuals to improve the language of the prayers. They must ordinarily fail to reach the high level of the prayers which the Church has set forth.

Two other guiding principles remain to be mentioned. The first concerns the habitual use of the offices. Whatever reasons may be valid for introducing changes, interpolations, or additions, on special occasions, such ought not to be made habitual. In Morning and Evening Prayer many priests are introducing prayers from outside sources. No bishop would want to be beset with innumerable requests to authorize such prayers. But while there may be good reason for them now and then, they ought never to be made a regular part of the service.

The second guiding principle is that the congregations have the right to be protected from the idiosyncrasies of individuals. Often a new prayer will be a real help to a worshipping congregation, but it will not always continue to be a help, nor is its constant repetition in accord with the meaning of liturgical worship. The utmost care must be used as soon as a priest ventures beyond what the Church has authorized.

V. “Jus Liturgicum”

The liturgical authority (jus liturgicum) of the bishop is strictly limited. He has no more authority than the priest to alter the Prayer Book services, or to authorize substitutions for them, except within the very narrow limits prescribed in the rubric “Concerning the service of the Church” to which reference has already been made. But he may authorize prayers or services for special occasions, and if so none other may be used. Carrying a little further the intent of this rubric, the Bishop in the interests of liturgical experiment may very properly authorize “other devotions” as contained in some one of the many experimental collections for occasions not provided in the Prayer Book and not contrary to its teaching and spirit.3 But neither bishop nor priest would have the right to use such devotions with a frequency and in such a manner as practically to eliminate one or another of the offices authorized by the Church. There is good ground for the assertion that we need liturgical experiments. There is excellent ground for the judgment that the Prayer Book with all its values is neither as complete nor as permanent as our forefathers used to think it. The time-span of revisions will never again be the century. But experiment does not mean lawlessness; nor is it really experiment if it means only the guesses of individuals, unrelated to other attempts and often without knowledge of what liturgical propriety and beauty may mean.

VI. Discretion of the Minister

Looking back, then, over the ground we have traversed, it is clear that so far as canonical and rubrical directions in the use of the Prayer Book offices are concerned, the very definite principles which are embodied in them leave a considerable measure of discretion to the minister. His obedience as already indicated is that of the intelligent servant rather than the slave.

But when we approach the matter of ceremonial alone, this discretion comes to take a place of paramount importance. There are no canonical regulations of ceremonial in America. The much controverted “Ornaments Rubric” of the English Book was omitted from ours, and therefore has no canonical authority. It can represent at best only the English precedent of 1549. For a good many years during the third quarter of the last century, there was constant and unhappy struggle over what in those days was called “Ritualism.” It culminated in 1874 in the adoption of a canon regulating some points of ceremonial. But the effort was futile. The canon was never enforced, and in 1904 was dropped without dissent. The House of Bishops has from time to time issued statements on certain points as, e.g., that of 1834 which deals with the proper postures during the Communion Service. But the Bishops' judgments have only moral, not legal authority.

VII. The Authority of Custom

The Prayer Book itself adds practically nothing. The rubrical directions are little help except when interpreted on the basis of an already understood custom. Without custom or tradition the minister would be lost in almost any office. The gaps are innumerable.4 Although there are many directions as to kneeling or standing, there are next to none as to vestments, or place, and none at all as to the furniture and arrangements of the church or altar. Custom rules. Every clergyman starts his ministry with what the past has brought him. He enters a church already furnished. He wears vestments like those of the clergy about him.

Now custom varies in both time and place. The priest preaches today in cassock and surplice. A century ago he would have worn a black gown and bands. In one diocese he celebrates the Holy Communion in that same cassock and surplice. In another he wears a chasuble. This variation is entirely Catholic. Quite apart from the inevitable local variations, we cannot imagine for a moment that the ceremonial expressions of worship in the Roman, Orthodox, and Anglican Communions could ever be brought into uniformity. This is important to remember since it throws light on the frequently raised question of what is Catholic in ceremonial. The fact that a particular use is Roman or medieval does not make it Catholic in the sense of justifying or giving authority for its use in the Anglican Communion. Being Western rather than Eastern may establish some presumption that it is more congenial to Western ways of worship. But within Western Christianity the ceremonial which must have authority for the Anglican Communion is that which has developed along lines expressive of the attitude towards religion enshrined in the Prayer Book rites, not that which expresses Latin ideals.

There is, in fine, no type of ceremonial which has ecumenical authority. It follows that the rule which guides in ceremonial is essentially a practical one. The Anglican priest and congregation find themselves within an area, a diocese or regional Church, in which a certain use and practice prevails. That is for them a Catholic use. That is their starting point if modifications are sought; and such modifications should be only those which may better express the meaning of the Prayer Book rites. It is true that in the pendulum-movement of religious life much that is beautiful and helpful may at one time or another have been lost from contemporary practice. Such losses may be recovered; but here again guidance is necessary and discretion indispensable. Distinctive Anglican tradition is a rather vague phrase. The fact that certain uses prevailed in fifteenth-century England may be a good reason for preferring them to some modern Latin use, but it does not justify the assumption that they are better or more Catholic than others which prevail today. We might as well imagine that five centuries from now the Church would find in certain Victorian uses of 1850 a quasi-authority for substituting them for some familiar ways of that distant future age. It is true that just as there are and must be certain common elements in all the great Catholic liturgies, so there are and must be in the ceremonial which accompanies and expresses them. But beyond that there can be little claim of ecumenical authority for any details of ceremonial, and no justification whatever for a priest's dipping here and there into the past and choosing what he likes. The Anglican priest and congregation find Catholic precedent and authority primarily in the use and practice prevalent within their own diocese or ecclesiastical “area.”5

VIII. Appropriate Ceremonial

It follows that the first emphasis in ceremonial must come in making such familiar ceremonial as nearly perfect as our limitations, personal and in equipment, will permit. It is, as stated at the beginning of this chapter, altogether beyond the purpose of this book to discuss details of such ceremonial; and it is perhaps worth adding that such details being, as we have seen, so variable, they could be discussed adequately only at great length, or with a dogmatism which the very principle we have emphasized invalidates. But details aside, there are certain large principles which are implicit in all proper ceremonial. If the first task of the priest and congregation is to make ceremonial adequate to the meaning and dignity of the offices of worship in the Prayer Book, these principles need to be considered.

We turn then to the presentation of certain principles of ceremonial which seem to lie, as it were, upon the surface and to be universal in their application. In his contribution to the book Liturgy and Worship Dr Brabant says, “Worship must be both expressive and suggestive.”6 That is to say, it must express the religious emotion and ideals of the worshippers, and it must likewise bring to them impulse to a life which is closer to God. What is true of worship in general is particularly true of the ceremonial aspects of it. Ceremonial is the outward and visible means of heightening the effect, whether it be expressive or suggestive of the rite itself. An office intended to be heard by the people and to gather up consciously their aspirations fails altogether if it is read inaudibly. Strictly speaking, it is the ceremonial which determines whether corporate worship shall adequately express the meaning of the rite.

If then the purpose of all worship is to lift men into the presence of God, and in his presence to find for them new strength for life, it is clear that the first thing to be sought is that, whatever the character of the ceremonial, it should contribute to rather than detract from the sense of God. This is a truism, but if it is put in the forefront of all consideration of the conduct of worship, it will be found to be an extraordinarily deep-cutting test. On the one hand shoddiness, carelessness, vulgarity, on the other elaborateness, artificiality, fussiness, will vanish. The dignity, the beauty, the teaching power which we shall discuss below, all find their place naturally.

But it must never be forgotten that worship, as we pointed out in our first chapter, is by and for the whole man. Otto's striking contribution to the theological thinking of our day noted there, has led in many quarters to an over-emphasis on the mystery of God; but Otto himself is emphatic in his insistence that Christianity is ethical through and through. The mystical loss of self, the trance-like state of ecstasy or the mere æsthetic satisfaction of a great and beautiful ceremonial, are inadequate to the fulness of Christian worship. Mind and will must have their part as well. The love of God's worship ought to issue in active love of God's children, and in deepening love of God's truth. Adoration must lead to action.

The practical bearing of such considerations on the matter of ceremonial has already been touched upon. All ceremonial must heighten the effect of the rite. Clear enunciation so that the office may be “understanded” of the people is a first requisite. Posture, vestments, colors all have their place; but solely in order to heighten this effect. They must not obscure its meaning by overlaying it with unnecessary elaborations, nor divert attention from its purpose and intent. It is the beautiful garment which should fit perfectly the figure which it clothes.

All that has been said emphasizes the teaching power of ceremonial. Its symbolism is of immense importance. To kneel or to stand during prayer is a continuous reminder of the need of reverence. The sign of the Cross in baptism is as perfect a suggestion of the life into which the baptized is born as the water itself is of the cleansed soul. In spite of the controversies which have raged around them, and the vastly differing interpretations which have been put upon them, the broken bread and poured-out wine remain for all Christians the perfect signs and symbols of Calvary.

The furniture of the Church is constantly teaching. No one can worship year after year in a building in which on one side is the pulpit, on the other the lectern, with the altar and its cross at the center of vision, without discovering that all unconsciously he has been appropriating something of the genius of the Prayer Book interpretation of Christianity. A pulpit as part of such furniture is not a platform from which to speak: it is a prophet's sanctuary. To preach is to celebrate the Sacrament of the Word. The lectern, again, shows us that the Bible is not merely a devotional book to be read when and where we will: it is the rule of our Church's faith and practice; a chief fount, and the ultimate test, of the Church's teaching. And both pulpit and open Bible lead to Christ, for they point the way to that altar and cross which are the very symbols of what Christ means in life.

But in all this use of the teaching power of symbolism, we must bear in mind two limitations. The symbolism must be true to the teaching which it professes to illuminate, and it must guard against excess. For example, the teaching of the Prayer Book concerning the consecration of the Eucharist is clear. Consecration is certainly not completed until the Invocation has been offered. Any ceremonial which suggests to the worshipper that the Words of Institution are a formula of consecration is altogether misleading. Our canon, as has been seen, follows the Eastern liturgies (and undoubtedly the original meaning of the Roman Liturgy) and regards the words of Institution only as the historical warrant for the observance of the Sacrament and the assurance of its meaning.

In the matter of excess, the use of the sign of the Cross which we have seen is so effective in baptism is a good illustration of the danger. It was no wonder that the Reformers turned against it. During the Middle Ages it had come to be a bit of magic. It kept away devils. It ensured the active intervention of God. We do not drive devils away with it today; but it is very easy to use it as a substitute for real prayer. Unheedingly performed, it may be quite meaningless. Genuflections are another example. They may easily become as exhausting to the worshippers as they may have become mechanical to the minister.

The proper fitting of the garment of ceremonial to the office which it is to render will achieve the ultimate goal of all outward expressions, the goal of beauty. Beauty in worship certainly includes four elements which indeed merge into one another and cannot always be distinguished. They are appropriateness, harmony, unity, and simplicity.

Appropriateness is of great importance in every aspect. Churches are constantly deprived of beauty not by the poverty but by the ill-fitting character of their furniture. Pulpits imposing enough for a cathedral distract the sight of a score of people in a tiny country church. Huge altars destroy the symmetry of what might be an attractive and graceful little building. One does not exalt the Sacrament by ugliness. Music appropriate to cathedrals is attempted in small parish churches. Anthems fail to reflect the underlying note of season or service. Choirs move in and out with a ceremony which would suggest that their processions are the chief part of worship. “Amens” are treated with a deference which suggests that the hearts of the congregation have been stirred by some supreme emotion. The voice of the minister frequently reveals that he himself hardly knows the quality of that which he is reading.

Appropriateness leads directly to that second quality of beauty: harmony. Not only should altar and chancel and vestments make a harmonious whole; but the conduct of the service in music and in quality of voice and gesture should be without a jarring note. Ease of movement, dignity, quiet, are essential things. Fussiness, jerkiness, aimless motions, destroy the harmony and so the beauty of the service.

Harmony is really only an aspect of unity. The former refers to the ease with which each part accords with or leads to another. The latter refers to the impression which is rendered by the whole. The Eucharist has its own inner unity which, in a sense, it is difficult to destroy. The Church Calendar assures a pretty definite unity at all times in the year on certain points. But neither the dramatic unity of the great Liturgy, nor the incidental unity of color and emphasis, can ensure the completeness of the total effect if the priest has no feeling for it. The sacrament of love finds a poor preface in a bitter or scolding or controversial sermon. The freedom of the preacher to choose his theme should not be limited even at the Holy Communion. But his freedom of treatment must be limited.

Finally, beauty demands simplicity, for simplicity means the discarding of the unnecessary. The danger of all liturgical development is elaboration, and such danger is particularly present in the Communion. The Reformers found themselves compelled to deal with offices in which the main intent had been obscured through the multitude of detail. Each little addition to the Baptism itself had, for example, found a perfectly good reason, as indeed Cranmer suggests in the general statements of the prefaces to the First Prayer Book. But ultimately with all this increment of exorcism and anointing, the essential Sacrament did not stand out clearly. Simplification was necessary. The entire Prayer Book illustrates this. It carries on, as we have seen, the great fundamentals of Catholic worship; but it cuts out the impedimenta which had accumulated during centuries. Doctrinal and liturgical reasons here joined hands. The genius of the Book is simplicity. That is the liturgical analogue of the moral life of Christians, which gains its beauty not through meticulous obedience to manifold rules but by the supreme simplicity of inner sincerity.

Two observations may close this discussion. One is of minor importance. The other is essential. All that has been said about beauty represents an ideal which is extraordinarily difficult of attainment. Vast numbers of congregations must perforce worship in churches which are not in themselves beautiful. Architects, builders, vestries, congregations, do not always know what is beautiful. The clergy are themselves often without trained discrimination on these points. In a drab, industrial, standardized world, we can hardly expect that beauty will blossom. In a world which is beginning to awaken to what beauty means, we must expect crude and barbaric attempts to achieve it in ecclesiastical as in domestic or public matters. But the obligation is upon the Church. The responsibility cannot be ignored.

Finally we must always go back to that with which we began. The purpose of ceremonial is only to contribute to this one great end: every item in worship must be constantly tested by the question, Does it help to bring God nearer? Beauty of ceremonial is demanded of us because God is eternal beauty. That Platonic tradition has never been lost from Christianity, although at some times and in some places it has been obscured. To worship God in truth is to worship him in goodness and in beauty.