Advent Wreath Candle Lighting Liturgy for Families

There's no right or wrong way to do a family advent candle wreath. But here’s the liturgy I came up with for our family this year. It contains some responses, which are great for making the kids feel a part of things, and then it concludes with a traditional advent prayer of the week. 

Leader: The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned. Come to us, O Christ the Light.

All: Come to us, O Christ the Light. 

Leader: Jesus, light of the world, shine on us. Lights the candle(s).  

All: Jesus, light of the world, shine on us.  

Leader: Prays prayer for the week.  

All: Amen. 

Week One: O Lord, stir up your might, we beg you, and come that by your protection we may deserve to be rescued from the threatening dangers of our sins and saved by your deliverance. Through Christ our Lord. 

Week Two: O Lord, stir up our hearts that we may prepare for your only begotten Son, that through His coming we may be made worthy to serve you with pure minds through Christ our Lord. 

Week Three: O Lord, we beg you to incline your ear to our prayers and enlighten the darkness of our minds by the grace of your visitation. Through Christ our Lord. 

Week Four: O Lord, stir up your power, we pray you, and come; and with great might help us, that with the help of your Grace, your merciful forgiveness may hasten what our sins impede. Through Christ our Lord.

The American Flag and Liturgical Worship

{Painting by Artist Chris Peters}

In honor of Flag Day on June 14, the National Review Online featured an article by Leon and Amy Cass. The article summarizes the history of the American Flag and why respect for the flag is “so necessary and desirable.” It concludes:

The universal philosophical principles can command the assent of the mind. But they cannot by themselves attach the loyalties of the heart. For that we need symbols and songs, stories and speeches. We need holidays and rituals, shared times for remembering and appreciating. We need ordered respite from commerce and amusement — and politicking — for expressions of communal gratitude.

In my opinion, the Casses build an excellent case for liturgical worship. In fact, they seem to propose that humans have an innate need which can only be fulfilled by something bigger than ourselves and even bigger than our intellect. We need the church year. We need liturgy.

Symbols, songs, and stories help our hearts ascend to that place where our minds might already reside. Doctrines and dogma by themselves aren’t enough to move our hearts. Our hearts are swayed by the holidays and rituals that we experience in community. For that reason, every week Christians come together to receive ordered respite from commerce and amusement for the ultimate expression of communal gratitude--The Great Thanksgiving, that is, the Eucharist.

The Spiraling Adventure of the Spiritual Life

Wow. Joan Chittiser is such a good writer. I’ve really enjoyed her book The Liturgical Year. And if the title sounds a little bland, allow me to add the subtitle: The Spiraling Adventure of the Spiritual Life. The phrase has been bouncing around in my head for a while now. I love Chittiser's use of language. Usually the word “spiral” is paired with the word “downward.” But the subtitle of this book evokes the image of an upward spiral--a gradual ascent to holiness. Here are some quotes that I've enjoyed...

“The liturgical year is an adventure in bringing the Christian life to fullness, the heart to alert, the soul to focus. It does not concern itself with the questions of how to make a living. It concerns itself with the questions of how to make a life” (page 4, emphasis added).

“The liturgical year is the year that sets out to attune the life of the Christian to the life of Jesus, the Christ. It proposes, year after year, to immerse us over and over again into the sense and substance of the Christian life, until, eventually, we become what we say we are--followers of Jesus all the way to the heart of God. The liturgical year is an adventure in human growth, an exercise in human ripening.” (page 6, emphasis added)

“The liturgical year is the process of slow, sure immersion in the life of Christ that, in the end, claims us, too, as heralds of that life ourselves” (page 13).

“Liturgical time is the arc that affixes the layers of life. It binds heaven and earth into one and the same rhythm. Rather than give ourselves totally to life as we know it here and now, liturgical time raises our sights above the dailiness of life to the essence of life” (page 39, emphasis added).

Ash Wednesday Reflections

{"The Expulsion" by Janice Williams Whiting}

I won’t be surprised if I always remember last night. As I mentioned earlier, it was my first time attending an Ash Wednesday service. I had read the Ash Wednesday liturgy the morning before, but there was something entirely different about participating in it. The words of the liturgy weighed heavily upon me and sank deeply in.

“I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God's holy Word.”

In the name of the Church. That phrase struck me. By observing a holy Lent, I am uniting myself with the Church – past, present, and future. Some might say, “But Lent isn’t prescribed in Scripture.” No, but the Church, in her wisdom, call us into it. Furthermore, the acts self-examination, repentance, prayer, fasting, self-denial, and meditating certainly are prescribed in Scripture.

“To make a right beginning of repentance, and as a mark of our mortal nature, let us now kneel before the Lord, our maker and redeemer.”

The right beginning of repentance always takes place on our knees.

“…Grant that these ashes may be a sign of our mortality and penitence, that we may remember that it is only by your gracious gift that we are given everlasting life, through Jesus Christ our Savior.”

The ashes signify two things – our mortality and our penitence. Our frailty and our failures. That we are dust, and that we are penitent just like those who would mourn in sackcloth and ashes.

Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Lent Begins With Ash Wednesday

My husband and I joined the Anglican Church last year in the middle of the season of Lent, so we have never attended an Ash Wednesday service. Perhaps that’s why I identify so much with the following passage from Ancient Future Time. Robert Webber’s explanation of Ash Wednesday especially addresses those who are new to liturgical worship. He writes:

“Unfortunately some Christians live as though the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ never happened. Our lives become absorbed in the day-to-day experiences of life. We focus on name-brand clothing, the color of our houses, the size of our bank account...We too easily forget our Maker and Redeemer, replacing God with things and ambition. Lent is the season that does something about this situation. It calls us back to God, back to basics, back to the spiritual realities of life. It calls on us to put to death the sin and the indifference we have in our hearts toward God and our fellow persons. And it beckons us to enter once again into the joy of the Lord--the joy of a new life born out of a death to the old life. This is what Ash Wednesday is all about--the fundamental change of life required of those who would die with Jesus and be raised to a new life in him.

For most people coming from my background, an Ash Wednesday service and Lent are quite foreign and somewhat threatening. The Christmas and Advent cycle are much less threatening because Christmas themes are so prevalent in our culture...But Lent is another matter. Lent appears to be dark and foreboding. It reminds Protestants of their worst fears of Roman Catholic practices--ritualism, works, fasting, vigils, and the like. Haven't we been saved from all that (we ask)? Didn't the Reformers free us from having to do works and pilgrimages and such things?

…Perhaps we laughed inside and thought to ourselves, just another mark of an external, ritualistic religion. Perhaps yes, perhaps no. Only God can judge the heart. Aside from that, dare we ask: Does something lie behind that symbol that has the potential to make our journey into Easter more meaningful? After all, what do we do for Easter? Most Protestants don't make any spiritual preparation for the annual celebration of the death and resurrection. For example, when I was growing up the only preparation for Easter made in my home--a deeply committed Christian home at that--was the planning and purchasing of new clothing. Easter was a weekend event. Preparing for Easter for seven weeks was unthinkable, ludicrous, even pagan.

But now I am constrained to ask: Who is the pagan? Yes, it is wrong to go through the motions of Ash Wednesday and Lent in a mechanical, uninvolved way. But it is also wrong to ignore any kind of preparation for the Easter event…We can begin the journey of Lent by the life-changing content of the Ash Wednesday service.”

Robert Webber, Ancient-Future Time: Forming Spirituality through the Christian Year, (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2004) 99-100.

The Calendar of the Christian Pilgrim

{"Little Miss Sunshine" by Robert David Bretz, print available on Etsy }

Jessica Snell, a writer who I blogged about here, has a great post on Advent. I especially appreciate this sentence:

“When you see the year not just as winter, spring, summer, and fall, but as Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and Ordinary Time, then the changing seasons don't just remind you that the Earth is circling the Sun, but that God Himself came down onto that Earth in order to save us all.”

Christians are called to be pilgrims, seeking a better country. I love how the church year provides a framework in which to understand the idea of Christian pilgrimage. The world is not our home, and the liturgical calendar provides the Christian with a way to mark time. It reminds us of our heavenward journey, and it directs our gaze towards the place to which we are heading. More on Advent here.

Advent: Coming Back Around to What Is True

Many Christian traditions celebrate Advent and Easter, yet they have abandoned the rest of the church calendar. I am learning how Advent and Easter fit into a bigger picture. Beginning with Advent, the liturgical calendar traces the events of Christ’s life and conforms our lives to his. In the rhythm of the church year, our lives become hid with Christ. We find our life in his life. His story becomes our story. Why participate in this ordering rhythm throughout the year? Here is Thomas Howard's explanation in The Liturgy Explained:

“The idea in all of this is the same as in all human celebrations and anniversaries: it is a good thing for us mortal creatures to be vividly reminded at regular intervals of something that is always true anyway (a marriage, a birth). It helps us. It freshens our imagination. Perhaps angels experience an eternal, perfectly clear, sameness of awareness. We cannot. We have to keep coming back around to what is true.”

As we approach Advent and come back around to the truth of Christ’s birth, we are called to prepare our hearts for the coming of God to us – not only in his Nativity, but also in his Second Coming.

[Quote from Howard, Thomas and Betsy Corwin. The Liturgy Explained. Wilton, Conn: Morehouse-Barlow, 1981 (37).]

Liturgy: Our Teacher and Helper

I am new to the liturgy thing, but I am drawn to it. There has been a buzz lately about the increasing number of people who find liturgy appealing. A variety of magazines have reported on the rise of liturgy, ranging from Christianity Today to US News and World Report. I am not sure whether or not their claim is true, but nonetheless, I find myself wondering, what are the benefits of liturgy? Two things come to mind:

First, the liturgy is our teacher. It teaches how we ought to respond to the Lord in worship. More specifically, it teaches us what we ought to say. When a Scripture passage is read, the congregation says, “Thanks be to God!” Thus, the liturgy teaches us how we ought to respond to the Word of God; namely, that our response ought to be thanksgiving. Perhaps the passage being read was a harsh passage about God’s wrath. We might want to respond by saying, “That is too harsh” or “This isn’t for me.” Instead, the liturgy teaches us to say, “Thanks be to God!”

Similarly, the liturgy is our helper. Sometimes our impromptu words don’t do justice to what we want to say. Sometimes there is more to pray than what we can think of on the spot. That is when the liturgy comes to our aid. It helps us by giving us words when we would otherwise be at a loss for words.

Life's Rhythms

Touchstone Magazine recently featured a lovely little article by Jessica Snell entitled, “The Feast Goes On." While searching for the online version of this article, I stumbled upon Jessica's blog. I haven’t had the time to peruse the archives yet, but I certainly appreciate her blog’s title: “Homemaking through the Church Year.”

Jessica’s Touchstone article has a similar theme to that of her blog. In the article she writes:
"The changing of the seasons gives a rhythm and meaning to even the prosaic task of getting dinner on the table every night. Snap peas in the garden in spring become a reminder that Christ is risen, and risen indeed. And as my children are present with me while I do all of this kitchen and garden work, I can tell them why we are cooking what we are cooking that day, and so preparing meals becomes a chance to talk with them about Jesus" (Touchstone Magazine, May 2008, page 12).

The rhythms of everyday life remind us of the great rhythm in which we participate, and its Orchestrator, the Lord.