As I sit here in my office enjoying the crisp spring air I am contemplating a box of half-eaten chocolates, a gift from my mother, sitting on my desk. For most people, Easter is over after Church on Easter Day (if they even attend Easter services at all). But the Church keeps the Paschal Feast for fifty days. These chocolates, half eaten, seem to be a symbol of our culture's idea of Easter: Not gone, but forgotten.
But we are in the midst of the feast! One of my favorite Collects for Easter is found in the book Lesser Feasts and Fasts:
God of infinity mercy, who dost renew the faith of thy people by the yearly celebration of these fifty days: Stir up in us, we pray, the gifts of thy grace, that we may more deeply know that baptism hath cleansed us, the Spirit hath quickened us, and the Blood of Christ hath redeemed us; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
We need to remember that Lent is a forty day fast that prepares us for this fifty day feast. If it is the obligation of Christians to keep the fast, it is also our obligation to keep the feast.
Keep feasting!
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Healing
The Gospels appointed for the Sundays leading toward Lent are all healing stories; stories where Jesus demonstrates his love and power by bringing the suffering into a renewed wholeness and newness of life.
Healing is all about the Lordship of Christ. It’s about who rules God’s world. It is a question of who is in charge. Healing is not simply about making us better; it is about making us whole children of God. It is not simply about taking away our pain; it is about God in Christ reclaiming God’s world from other forces that seek to diminish it.
How does God heal us? Well, at one level the answer is obvious. Healing happens when symptoms are taken away. The blind see. The deaf hear. The leperous are made clean. The grieving are comforted. The troubled find peace. And this of course does happen. (I have been witness to it.) But there is another possibility--a very real possibility for each one of us. If healing is about Jesus’ Lordship and who rules our lives, then real healing can be a defiant refusal to be dominated and ruled by our suffering. It can be a question of affirming what truly rules our life: not our sickness, not our disease, not our loss, not our pain, but over and above all else, the resurrected Christ, who lifts us up as He himself was lifted up, into a new and holy reality.
Where do you need God's healing? What will healing look like for you?
Healing is all about the Lordship of Christ. It’s about who rules God’s world. It is a question of who is in charge. Healing is not simply about making us better; it is about making us whole children of God. It is not simply about taking away our pain; it is about God in Christ reclaiming God’s world from other forces that seek to diminish it.
How does God heal us? Well, at one level the answer is obvious. Healing happens when symptoms are taken away. The blind see. The deaf hear. The leperous are made clean. The grieving are comforted. The troubled find peace. And this of course does happen. (I have been witness to it.) But there is another possibility--a very real possibility for each one of us. If healing is about Jesus’ Lordship and who rules our lives, then real healing can be a defiant refusal to be dominated and ruled by our suffering. It can be a question of affirming what truly rules our life: not our sickness, not our disease, not our loss, not our pain, but over and above all else, the resurrected Christ, who lifts us up as He himself was lifted up, into a new and holy reality.
Where do you need God's healing? What will healing look like for you?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Living in a Post-Christian Society
When you search Ebay for 'silver paten' (which is the plate used in the Holy Eucharist), 90% of the returns are Wiccan, not Christian.
There are so many indications that our culture has become Post-Christian, which means that Christianity is no longer the dominant model for religious faith--or at the very least, no longer the only acceptable option. This represents such a drastic change from the past that I don't think we as 'Church' have even begun to grasp its significance.
What does this mean for us? First, I think it calls us to strive for new ways of expressing our faith. We can no longer be certain that a newcomer to our church knows the basic story of Jesus, or any of the other 'whys' or 'hows' of our faith.
Second, it requires us to be able to articulate why our faith--and our faith community--is important to us. Do we go to church out of habit? Or are we involved in our church for deeper reasons. And if we are, what are those deeper reasons that keep us in the family of faith? We must be willing to share these things with others.
Do you agree that America is Post-Christian? And if so, what other ways does this cultural reality call the Church into new ways of being?
There are so many indications that our culture has become Post-Christian, which means that Christianity is no longer the dominant model for religious faith--or at the very least, no longer the only acceptable option. This represents such a drastic change from the past that I don't think we as 'Church' have even begun to grasp its significance.
What does this mean for us? First, I think it calls us to strive for new ways of expressing our faith. We can no longer be certain that a newcomer to our church knows the basic story of Jesus, or any of the other 'whys' or 'hows' of our faith.
Second, it requires us to be able to articulate why our faith--and our faith community--is important to us. Do we go to church out of habit? Or are we involved in our church for deeper reasons. And if we are, what are those deeper reasons that keep us in the family of faith? We must be willing to share these things with others.
Do you agree that America is Post-Christian? And if so, what other ways does this cultural reality call the Church into new ways of being?
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Mary's Month of May
May is the month traditionally associated with devotion to Mary the Mother of God. In many churches (of a catholic nature) devotions to Our Lady are made during public worship. I was speaking with a friend and colleague today whose parish says the Angelus each Sunday in May. It reminded me of a story I love.
Mary tends to make some Christians rather uncomfortable. In the 1960’s, Roman Catholics in Baltimore were in the midst of building an enormous new Cathedral dedicated to ‘Mary Our Queen.’ A youth group of one of the more prominent Presbyterian churches was planning to make a visit to the new building. Consequently a postcard was prepared to be sent to all the young families of the parish inviting them to participate in the visit to the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen. The senior pastor of the church, upon spying a copy of said postcard in the church office, was more than a bit perturbed that a publication of his church was about to be mailed out that contained the phrase, “Mary Our Queen.” After a somewhat tense conversation with the youth pastor, the church secretary was instructed to make a revision of the postcard. A few days later, the good Presbyterian children of Baltimore were invited to a tour of what was described in the postcard as, “The Cathedral of Mary Their Queen.”
Mary causes some anxiety among certain Christians, perhaps not because of who she is, but because of who she is not.
Mary is the God-bearer. She was termed Theotokos, God-bearer, by the Greek Fathers of the Church and was given the title officially by the Council of Ephesus in 431. She who was deemed worth to bear the Word-made-Flesh participates in the plan of salvation in a way completely unique to any other human being. Mary is a saint. A saint is a human being who has been grafted into the family of God. There are countless saints living and dead, some in this church even now. Mary is a model for Christians. In her willingness to say ‘yes’ to the divine will, she, physically, brought God into the world. It is the Christian vocation writ large. We are all called, in various ways, to participate in God’s will to bring forth God’s light into the world. Mary is our intercessor. She prays for us. This is where things get sticky between Christians. But we believe that saints, living and dead, are grafted together through the love of God in Christ. We regularly pray for our beloved ones who have departed this life and entered into the next one. And they pray for us. The relationships between saints living and dead is not broken by physical death. We also, sometimes, pray to saints. When I have conversations with my friend Adam who died three years ago, it is a form of prayer. I certainly do not believe that my friend is God, but I believe that our relationship is not broken. So it is also with the great saints of the Church.
So Mary is the God-bearer, a saint, a model for Christians, and an intercessor for us. This is the ancient Christian perspective on Mary, and it is very Anglican in its balance of catholic tradition and reformed thought and reason. She who was termed Theotokos, God-bearer, prays for us to bring her Son more and more into the world which cries out for Him in sighs too deep for words. May we, too, be bearers of God.
Holy Mary, pray for us! Amen.
Mary tends to make some Christians rather uncomfortable. In the 1960’s, Roman Catholics in Baltimore were in the midst of building an enormous new Cathedral dedicated to ‘Mary Our Queen.’ A youth group of one of the more prominent Presbyterian churches was planning to make a visit to the new building. Consequently a postcard was prepared to be sent to all the young families of the parish inviting them to participate in the visit to the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen. The senior pastor of the church, upon spying a copy of said postcard in the church office, was more than a bit perturbed that a publication of his church was about to be mailed out that contained the phrase, “Mary Our Queen.” After a somewhat tense conversation with the youth pastor, the church secretary was instructed to make a revision of the postcard. A few days later, the good Presbyterian children of Baltimore were invited to a tour of what was described in the postcard as, “The Cathedral of Mary Their Queen.”
Mary causes some anxiety among certain Christians, perhaps not because of who she is, but because of who she is not.
Mary is the God-bearer. She was termed Theotokos, God-bearer, by the Greek Fathers of the Church and was given the title officially by the Council of Ephesus in 431. She who was deemed worth to bear the Word-made-Flesh participates in the plan of salvation in a way completely unique to any other human being. Mary is a saint. A saint is a human being who has been grafted into the family of God. There are countless saints living and dead, some in this church even now. Mary is a model for Christians. In her willingness to say ‘yes’ to the divine will, she, physically, brought God into the world. It is the Christian vocation writ large. We are all called, in various ways, to participate in God’s will to bring forth God’s light into the world. Mary is our intercessor. She prays for us. This is where things get sticky between Christians. But we believe that saints, living and dead, are grafted together through the love of God in Christ. We regularly pray for our beloved ones who have departed this life and entered into the next one. And they pray for us. The relationships between saints living and dead is not broken by physical death. We also, sometimes, pray to saints. When I have conversations with my friend Adam who died three years ago, it is a form of prayer. I certainly do not believe that my friend is God, but I believe that our relationship is not broken. So it is also with the great saints of the Church.
So Mary is the God-bearer, a saint, a model for Christians, and an intercessor for us. This is the ancient Christian perspective on Mary, and it is very Anglican in its balance of catholic tradition and reformed thought and reason. She who was termed Theotokos, God-bearer, prays for us to bring her Son more and more into the world which cries out for Him in sighs too deep for words. May we, too, be bearers of God.
Holy Mary, pray for us! Amen.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Inclusivity and Rite One
Fr. Griffith has a wonderful post about radical inclusivity--even of those who actually like tradition!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Ad orientem
As Fr. Hunwicke's beautiful post explains, facing east during prayer was a significant action for the earliest Christians and remained so until very recently.
The Liturgical Movement and the Second Vatican Council sought to reform what they saw as (I can only presume) as a distant and remote liturgy by changing the direction the priest faced while presiding at the Eucharist. While the desire to create a stronger worshipping community was a laudable one, re-orienting the direction of the priest from facing east (toward the rising sun, and symbolically toward Christ) to facing the people also created an insidious form of clericalism. In other words, the action only became 'authentic' if the priest faced the people; the pattern changed from a gathered community all facing east (toward Christ) to a gathered community facing one another. The emphasis in worship moved ever so slightly from God to the community, and specifically to the liturgical leader of the community, the clergy. So worship became legitimate only if one could make eye contact with the clergy, which frankly, puts the priest in a dangerous position and invests in the priest a significance that should be reserved for God alone.
(I am not saying that a Mass celebrated versus populum--facing the people--is invalid or lacking. I have attended countless celebrations of the Holy Mysteries oriented this way and have been deeply moved and formed by them. But I do recognize from experience as both a lay person and now as a priest that an emphasis upon a personal relationship with the priest during worship can have unintended consequences that lead to clericalism and to de-emphasizing the transcendence of God.)
If you have ever had the chance to visit our wonderful parish church of St. Paul in Chester, you will know that both our High Altar and the Altar in the Chapel of the Ascension face liturgical East. When I or any other priest celebrate Mass at St. Paul's we do not have our backs to the people. Rather, we are joining with the people to face east toward the coming of Christ to His people. There is a wonderful equality in this arrangement. I may not be able to make constant eye contact with the people during the Canon of the Mass (the Eucharistic Prayer), but perhaps this is a good thing. Perhaps it reminds us--priest and people alike--that it is to Christ we address our prayers, and only through the grace and self-offering of Christ that we are acceptable to God?
So if you have the opportunity to worship at St. Paul's and find this eastward orientation unusual or new, please know that it is an ancient orientation toward the beauty and joy of the coming Christ, whom we receive in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. And if you take the opportunity to worship at St. Paul's, please also know that it will be our privilege to welcome you into our community and look together toward the coming of Jesus Christ, who is the eternal light of the world.
The Liturgical Movement and the Second Vatican Council sought to reform what they saw as (I can only presume) as a distant and remote liturgy by changing the direction the priest faced while presiding at the Eucharist. While the desire to create a stronger worshipping community was a laudable one, re-orienting the direction of the priest from facing east (toward the rising sun, and symbolically toward Christ) to facing the people also created an insidious form of clericalism. In other words, the action only became 'authentic' if the priest faced the people; the pattern changed from a gathered community all facing east (toward Christ) to a gathered community facing one another. The emphasis in worship moved ever so slightly from God to the community, and specifically to the liturgical leader of the community, the clergy. So worship became legitimate only if one could make eye contact with the clergy, which frankly, puts the priest in a dangerous position and invests in the priest a significance that should be reserved for God alone.
(I am not saying that a Mass celebrated versus populum--facing the people--is invalid or lacking. I have attended countless celebrations of the Holy Mysteries oriented this way and have been deeply moved and formed by them. But I do recognize from experience as both a lay person and now as a priest that an emphasis upon a personal relationship with the priest during worship can have unintended consequences that lead to clericalism and to de-emphasizing the transcendence of God.)
If you have ever had the chance to visit our wonderful parish church of St. Paul in Chester, you will know that both our High Altar and the Altar in the Chapel of the Ascension face liturgical East. When I or any other priest celebrate Mass at St. Paul's we do not have our backs to the people. Rather, we are joining with the people to face east toward the coming of Christ to His people. There is a wonderful equality in this arrangement. I may not be able to make constant eye contact with the people during the Canon of the Mass (the Eucharistic Prayer), but perhaps this is a good thing. Perhaps it reminds us--priest and people alike--that it is to Christ we address our prayers, and only through the grace and self-offering of Christ that we are acceptable to God?
So if you have the opportunity to worship at St. Paul's and find this eastward orientation unusual or new, please know that it is an ancient orientation toward the beauty and joy of the coming Christ, whom we receive in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. And if you take the opportunity to worship at St. Paul's, please also know that it will be our privilege to welcome you into our community and look together toward the coming of Jesus Christ, who is the eternal light of the world.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Islam and 'Sunday Christianity'
Before Holy Week, I spent a lot of time walking all over the City of Chester handing out flyers and inviting people to church. I got to meet a lot of people that way, but what impressed me the most were the young, devout, African-American Muslims. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "Thank you, Father, but we're Muslims."
Young men and women in the City of Chester are being attracted in droves to Islam. And the Islam they are practicing is not a religion for lazy people. They are praying five times a day. They are practicing their faith constanty, and it requires real sacrifices from them: sacrifices of time, money, energy, and ethical obligations.
Islam is requiring tremendous things from them. It demands a true conversion of life. And they are finding transformation through it.
One of the gravest mistakes Christianity has made in the 20th Century is to make it easy to be a 'Christian.' Want to be baptized? Come on! Just show up half an hour before the service on Sunday and we'll talk through it. Want to be confrimed? Sure! Come and take a class or two and we'll present you to the bishop. Want to get married but don't feel particularly 'religious?' No problem.
If our faith isn't worth a real, daily committment, how can we expect others to commit to it? If we are not experiencing true conversion of life, do we really expect others to? If we make new life in Christ seem that easy to come by, then of course people are going to think it isn't worth giving up a little free time to seek it out.
Christianity has been built on the lives of holy men and women who gave up everything for Christ. Christianity has been built on countless lives through the centuries completely given to prayer and self-sacrifice and to the building of the Kingdom of God on earth. But somehow, in the past sixty or so years, mainline denominations have taught by our laissez faire attitudes that perhaps Christianity isn't really worth a commitment. And now, we can see the results.
What we need is an Awakening. What we need now is a return to the daily life of prayer and service. What we need now is for our congregations to experience true and profound conversion of life. What we need now is to turn religious tourists into pilgrims (to borrow a phrase from Diana Bass, one of my seminary professors), starting with ourselves.
And with Christ, anything is possible.
Young men and women in the City of Chester are being attracted in droves to Islam. And the Islam they are practicing is not a religion for lazy people. They are praying five times a day. They are practicing their faith constanty, and it requires real sacrifices from them: sacrifices of time, money, energy, and ethical obligations.
Islam is requiring tremendous things from them. It demands a true conversion of life. And they are finding transformation through it.
One of the gravest mistakes Christianity has made in the 20th Century is to make it easy to be a 'Christian.' Want to be baptized? Come on! Just show up half an hour before the service on Sunday and we'll talk through it. Want to be confrimed? Sure! Come and take a class or two and we'll present you to the bishop. Want to get married but don't feel particularly 'religious?' No problem.
If our faith isn't worth a real, daily committment, how can we expect others to commit to it? If we are not experiencing true conversion of life, do we really expect others to? If we make new life in Christ seem that easy to come by, then of course people are going to think it isn't worth giving up a little free time to seek it out.
Christianity has been built on the lives of holy men and women who gave up everything for Christ. Christianity has been built on countless lives through the centuries completely given to prayer and self-sacrifice and to the building of the Kingdom of God on earth. But somehow, in the past sixty or so years, mainline denominations have taught by our laissez faire attitudes that perhaps Christianity isn't really worth a commitment. And now, we can see the results.
What we need is an Awakening. What we need now is a return to the daily life of prayer and service. What we need now is for our congregations to experience true and profound conversion of life. What we need now is to turn religious tourists into pilgrims (to borrow a phrase from Diana Bass, one of my seminary professors), starting with ourselves.
And with Christ, anything is possible.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Easter Sermon
Alleluia! Christ is risen.
The Lord is raised indeed. Alleluia.
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Resurrection changes everything. In Matthew’s Gospel, the resurrection causes the earth itself to tremble. When Mary Magdalene and the other Mary go to the tomb, burdened with grief, they could never have expected the greeting they receive: “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said (Matthew 28: 5b-6a).” And when Jesus himself finally appears to them, he gives them three commandments: first, Rejoice (the word translated ‘greetings’ in our gospel literally means rejoice); second, do not be afraid; and third, share the message.
Rejoice. Do not be afraid. Share the message. These are the commandments we are called to live by as children of Christ’s resurrection. In our baptism, Christ enters every particle of our selves, souls and bodies, and makes us members of his glorious body. We become ministers of his undying, overflowing, all-consuming love. And the love we are brought into knows no bounds: it pulls us out of the things that entomb us and brings each of us—and all of creation—into a new existence. Resurrection life is glorious, but it is also unsettling.
There is an Orthodox Icon, or holy image, of the resurrection called “The Harrowing of Hell.” In it, the resurrected Christ is depicted in front of a tomb: the tomb of our first parents Adam and Eve. Christ grasps them by their wrists and pulls them out of the tomb. It is not a gentle pull, either. Christ yanks them up out of their dusty resting place, a resting place that is maybe strangely comfortable. It is a state of being they are familiar with and it doesn’t present them with challenges. But they are called into resurrection, and Christ tugs on them until they are dislodged from the earth and brought into new life.
Jesus does the same for us. Easter pulls us out of our tombs and brought into a world that is completely new and different from the world we have known in the past. Easter is about new life. Not even life after death, but new life now. You can wait to experience resurrection after you die, but I don’t recommend it. And I don’t think that’s what God wishes for us, either. You can practice resurrection this very day—if you are brave enough. A phone call can work miracles, or just a hello, or an “I love you.” Or better yet, call someone from whom you are estranged. Pull the pins out of the proverbial voodoo doll. You don’t even have to say sorry. (You may not be sorry, and he may not be sorry, either.) It doesn’t matter. Call him, wish him Happy Easter, and ask him how he is. Not that this is guaranteed to go smoothly. But you will experience a taste of resurrection. All you need to do is rejoice, do not be afraid, and share the message. It might be unsettling, yes, but it is how we share in the new life of Christ and extend it into the world. It is now we experience resurrection now.
There is an ancient sermon for Easter Day, whose author has been lost, where Christ addresses Adam and Eve, freshly yanked out of their dusty rest: “O order you, O sleepers, to awake. I did not create you to be held prisoners in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, you who are the work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you, and we cannot be separated. The bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you for all eternity.”
Today Jesus rescues us from the power of death and limitation. Today the world is different and new. Today we are pulled out from the tombs of limitation and sin and death. Today Christ gives us limitless and overflowing life. Rejoice! Do not be afraid. Share the message.
And so let us say again, and let us say for ever:
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.
The Lord is raised indeed. Alleluia.
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Resurrection changes everything. In Matthew’s Gospel, the resurrection causes the earth itself to tremble. When Mary Magdalene and the other Mary go to the tomb, burdened with grief, they could never have expected the greeting they receive: “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said (Matthew 28: 5b-6a).” And when Jesus himself finally appears to them, he gives them three commandments: first, Rejoice (the word translated ‘greetings’ in our gospel literally means rejoice); second, do not be afraid; and third, share the message.
Rejoice. Do not be afraid. Share the message. These are the commandments we are called to live by as children of Christ’s resurrection. In our baptism, Christ enters every particle of our selves, souls and bodies, and makes us members of his glorious body. We become ministers of his undying, overflowing, all-consuming love. And the love we are brought into knows no bounds: it pulls us out of the things that entomb us and brings each of us—and all of creation—into a new existence. Resurrection life is glorious, but it is also unsettling.
There is an Orthodox Icon, or holy image, of the resurrection called “The Harrowing of Hell.” In it, the resurrected Christ is depicted in front of a tomb: the tomb of our first parents Adam and Eve. Christ grasps them by their wrists and pulls them out of the tomb. It is not a gentle pull, either. Christ yanks them up out of their dusty resting place, a resting place that is maybe strangely comfortable. It is a state of being they are familiar with and it doesn’t present them with challenges. But they are called into resurrection, and Christ tugs on them until they are dislodged from the earth and brought into new life.
Jesus does the same for us. Easter pulls us out of our tombs and brought into a world that is completely new and different from the world we have known in the past. Easter is about new life. Not even life after death, but new life now. You can wait to experience resurrection after you die, but I don’t recommend it. And I don’t think that’s what God wishes for us, either. You can practice resurrection this very day—if you are brave enough. A phone call can work miracles, or just a hello, or an “I love you.” Or better yet, call someone from whom you are estranged. Pull the pins out of the proverbial voodoo doll. You don’t even have to say sorry. (You may not be sorry, and he may not be sorry, either.) It doesn’t matter. Call him, wish him Happy Easter, and ask him how he is. Not that this is guaranteed to go smoothly. But you will experience a taste of resurrection. All you need to do is rejoice, do not be afraid, and share the message. It might be unsettling, yes, but it is how we share in the new life of Christ and extend it into the world. It is now we experience resurrection now.
There is an ancient sermon for Easter Day, whose author has been lost, where Christ addresses Adam and Eve, freshly yanked out of their dusty rest: “O order you, O sleepers, to awake. I did not create you to be held prisoners in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, you who are the work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you, and we cannot be separated. The bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you for all eternity.”
Today Jesus rescues us from the power of death and limitation. Today the world is different and new. Today we are pulled out from the tombs of limitation and sin and death. Today Christ gives us limitless and overflowing life. Rejoice! Do not be afraid. Share the message.
And so let us say again, and let us say for ever:
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
The Sunday of the Resurrection: Easter Day
Alleluia! Christ is risen.
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!
The Collect
O God, who for our redemption gave your only-begotten Son to the death of the cross, and by his glorious resurrection delivered us from the power of our enemy: Grant us so to die daily to sin, that we may evermore live with him in the joy of his resurrection; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
or this
O God, who made this most holy night to shine with the glory of the Lord's resurrection: Stir up in your Church that Spirit of adoption which is given to us in Baptism, that we, being renewed both in body and mind, may worship you in sincerity and truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
or this
Almighty God, who through your only-begotten Son Jesus Christ overcame death and opened to us the gate of everlasting life: Grant that we, who celebrate with joy the day of the Lord's resurrection, may be raised from the death of sin by your life-giving Spirit; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!
The Collect
O God, who for our redemption gave your only-begotten Son to the death of the cross, and by his glorious resurrection delivered us from the power of our enemy: Grant us so to die daily to sin, that we may evermore live with him in the joy of his resurrection; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
or this
O God, who made this most holy night to shine with the glory of the Lord's resurrection: Stir up in your Church that Spirit of adoption which is given to us in Baptism, that we, being renewed both in body and mind, may worship you in sincerity and truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
or this
Almighty God, who through your only-begotten Son Jesus Christ overcame death and opened to us the gate of everlasting life: Grant that we, who celebrate with joy the day of the Lord's resurrection, may be raised from the death of sin by your life-giving Spirit; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Holy Saturday
The Collect
O God, Creator of heaven and earth: Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
O God, Creator of heaven and earth: Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
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