There is an old phrase,
famous among pastors, to describe the “order” of Christian life: “The rule of
prayer is the rule of faith.” Prayers form our doctrine more than doctrine
forms our prayers. We learn to pray; then we learn why we pray that way.
Two quick examples: “God
is great, God is good…” We pray that prayer, teach it to our kids, and then they
and we learn why we thank God for our food (and the hands that prepared
it).
“Now, I lay me down to
sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake I pray
the Lord my soul to take.” That is the first “compline” I ever learned, and am
more thankful for it the longer I live, as I learn ever more and better how and
why to entrust my soul to God.
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| virtueonline.org |
The Lord’s Prayer is a
third example, of course. We pray it; then set about to discover the faith,
faithfulness and ministry to which it calls us (let all be fed, let all be
forgiven, let all be freed). "The rule of prayer is the rule of faith is the rule of life." Lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi, in Latin (say that and you will impress your friends!)
(We could also invoke our hymns: how we learn to sing our faith before we can say it.)
This week at HLUMC we
will demonstrate another discernable pattern of Christian history: “practice precedes doctrine.”
The actual worship of the church comes first, while the theological rationales,
the rules and rubrics, come after the fact.
This Sunday: virtual Communion.
At the church, there at our Table, we will have bread and juice (could be wine;
we are not telling). We will say the prayer. The five or six of us in the
sanctuary will eat that particular bread and drink that particular…whatever.
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| minnesotaumc.org |
Meanwhile, we are asking
all our congregants and others who join us by means of the Live Streaming (a really open Table) to have bread and
juice/wine available there near the computer or TV. As I say the Prayers, consecrate
the sanctuary elements, we will choose to believe that the home elements are
also consecrated. We all will eat. We all will drink. We will share the
Lord’s Supper together, separately.
(One really interesting
and beautiful collateral: I know of families who live at great distance who
have already determined to join the stream so that separate as they are, they
can take the Supper together—the same food, the same drink, the same time—a
blessing they rarely if ever share.)
Whether or not virtual
Communion is allowed or allowable has been a matter of much
debate these last few years. Some churches have developed ways and means for
the ritual that seem to me both impractical and even kind of silly. Like saving
consecrated bread from the last Communion and mailing it out to
members before the next Communion, to ensure that everyone has
bread that has been literally, manually prayed over by the
priest/pastor. I get it. But please. My hands are not that important. In fact, in
this era my hands/touch may be unwelcome.
Instead, we are going to
believe in the universal agency of the Holy Spirit and the power of Jesus to be
with us all—not only whenever two or three are gathered in his
name, but however they are gathered together in his name. The power
of our prayer will shape that belief.
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| americanmagazine.org |
At some point down the
line, we (or someone) will craft (create?) more sophisticated theological
argumentation and defense for this practice. But as I learned in seminary, worship
precedes doctrine, just as prayer precedes creeds.
Meanwhile Jesus’ command
to feed the sheep, and our pastoral obligation to provide the Bread of Heaven
(and especially in a sequestered age), makes adaptation not only imperative but
authentic.
In fact, it could be
argued that every Communion is always virtual: the bread
and wine you get at the store “become” Body and Blood of Jesus.
I choose to believe that this week, in a virtual gathering of the flock--we will congregate on
line: a virtual congregation--apart from hugs and kisses, it will be as real
as it gets.
