I confess! I am one of those incorrigible members of Trinity who have difficulty refraining from saying "Alleluia! Alleluia!" at the Dismissal. Yes, I know that the Book of Common Prayer clearly says "From the Easter Vigil through the Day of Pentecost 'Alleluia, alleluia' may be added to any of the dismissals." By implication, then, it must be thought inappropriate at other times.
But I just can't help myself. Except for Advent and Lent, when I make a special efort to stifle such an overt and un-Episcopalian sign of enthusiasm, it just comes out.
You see, I think of worship services at Trinity Church as great and joyful feasts to the glory of God. We feast, in the first part of the Eucharist, on the Word made known through the reading of Scripture and the preaching and teaching that follow. I value and enjoy the practice in the liturgical churches of multiple readings from the Bible: an Old Testament lesson, a Psalm, a second lesson from a portion of the New Testament, usually an Epistle, and, as climax, a portion of the Gospels themselves. Anything less seems to me a banquet in which one or more nourishing courses are missing. The use of a lectionary that follows a disciplined sequence of readings over a period of years ensures that we hear almost all the Bible, the parts we don't like as well as those we love. Very often it is the difficult readings, the "God can't possibly be like that!" readings, that bring us up short, force us to rethink old inadequate understandings and help us to mature in the faith. I have found it especially helpful when I use the appointed lessons for the coming Sunday in my own personal reading and prayer life. Then, on Sunday, the preacher amplifies, or corrects, or redirects my thinking. I am forced to think through a portion of the readings and learn how I may better understand the Bible.
Understanding the first part of our worship, the Ministry of the Word, as a banquet feast to the glory of God is a relatively new understanding for me. I have been helped to mature in this by my study of the writings of those who represent the Reformed tradition in Christianity. Until quite recently I was much more conscious of the joyful feast of the Holy Communion as the primary banquet invitation of the Church. Now I recognize more clearly the real presence of our Lord in the Ministry of the Word and I am enabled to receive him there with growing joy and thanksgiving.
But I have not yet found any of these Reformed theologians writing about the joy of sacramental worship. I recognize that it is unrealistic of me to expect them to do so. They come from a Christian tradition that appears to me generally neglectful of (what shall I call it?) the Lord's Supper, the Holy Communion, the Mass, the Eucharist, the Liturgy. Any or all of those names, rightly understood, is acceptable to me. My own discovery of the centrality of the Ministry of the Word does not require any lessening of the pleasure I have experienced for more than 70 years in eucharistic worship. The most severe ecclesiastical penalty I ever experienced was during that period from November of 1943 through December of 1944 when I was a Roman Catholic ex-communicant. I continued to attend Mass weekly and could only feel a deep sorrow when others went up to receive Communion and I could not. I also remember vividly the moment on a small island in the South Pacific when I was first invited by an Episcopal priest to receive the Sacrament of our Lord's Body and Blood.
All of this goes into my inability to restrain my enthusiasm in the face of Prayer Book rubrics. Honestly, Fr. Nick, I'll try to bite my tongue in Advent and Lent. But my heart will still call out:
ALLELUIA! ALLELUIA!