Fifty Acts 7. An Episcopal Adventure.

I had planned on going to the Catholic Church yesterday.  From the City Centre, I started walking towards the Catholics, when a little voice said “go to the Episcopal service.”  Ignoring it, it came back again.  “Episcopal.”  The more I thought about going towards the Catholic church, the more I’m being told that Episcopal is where I need to be.  I’m not going to have to go out of my way to get there, as I’m going to walk past the Episcopals, but my plan for this Sunday was Catholic, and that was where I was headed.  The voice felt about as present as the voice that got me into this whole ministry thing in the first place.  So at the pedestrian crossing, I give in and cross the road, agreeing that I will go in, but only if the service is at 11am.  I am not walking in late.

So a few minutes later and I’m inside my first Scottish Episcopal service.  This really is a new experience for me.  I’ve done a couple of Church of England services, so I’m aware that the three books in front of me are going to come into use soon enough, guided by the order of service.  I decide to keep an eye on the person who is sitting in front of me and I’ll stand when they stand, sit when they sit, and otherwise pay attention.  Inevitably I get lost, and I’m looking up the wrong book at the wrong time.  I’m not organised enough for an Episcopal service.  Anything could happen if I tried to lead one.

The service of Sung Eucharist begins, and the priest, server and choir proceeds in.  There’s plenty of reverence for the communion elements, and as far as I’m lead to believe, to Episcopaleans, that really is the body and blood of Christ up there.  It’s while I’m sitting there that I realise I’ve not really given all this a lot of thought, despite studying sacramental theology.  And I’m probably not all that Reformed™ because I’m not all that sure what I’m supposed to be reformed from.  So as the service progresses, I came to realise that, perhaps that really is Christ up there.  As Christ can be in all things, then if we truly believe he’s there, then maybe he is. 

The order of service states that Eucharist is open to all in their tradition, but I’m not that keen on going up to receive.  Partly because I’m not wanting to get something wrong and upset the spiritual calm of my fellow worshipers, but partly because I’m not entirely convinced that I’m happy about receiving lumps of Jesus.  I don’t feel spiritually clean, so I adopt a middle ages position and receive ocular communion – I’ve seen, I’ve been present and I’m saved. 

Unfortunately, in a small congregation, it’s hard to be unobserved.  When I was chatting with the priest afterwards, a very pleasant chap who is retired and was filling in due to a vacancy, he did mention that it’s open to all and I was welcome. I told him of my concern for my fellow worshipers, but he did say they wouldn’t mind.  Perhaps next time.  We discussed the presence of Christ in the elements, and he told me of a quote from Queen Elizabeth the First of England:

Christ was the word that spake it.

He took the bread and break it.

And what his words did make it

That I believe and take it.

In the service, there was a reading from Jeremiah and a reading from the Gospel, yet the priest said that he wasn’t going to base his sermon on those readings, but from a different part of Jeremiah.  (I should have asked if he was obliged to have the original readings and wasn’t allowed to deviate.)  The reading he chose was  around Jeremiah 37:17 where Zedekiah asks “Is there any word from the Lord?”

Well as I’m sitting there, I’m thinking to myself, I don’t know about you Jeremiah, but the words of the day seems to be “Try Episcopal”

Next week may be Catholic, but I’m starting to think I’m getting sent places for a reason.