The Fraying of the “Ecumenical Consensus” or a New Stage of Liturgical Renewal: A Case Study *

Abstract

Feminist, LGBTQIA+, and postcolonial critiques over the past decades have questioned the so-called “ecumenical consensus” in liturgical matters ranging from language about God to lectionaries to liturgical time. These developments have affected liturgical development across churches, with some (most recently, the Presbyterian Church, USA) revising their resources to address these critiques. Others are pursuing a different approach: This article will provide a case study of ongoing liturgical development in The Episcopal Church, which has chosen not to redraft its 1979 Book of Common Prayer but, instead, encourage the development of supplemental resources housed at an official church website governed by its triennial General Convention and church law. The use of such resources will be regulated primarily by local bishops and pastors; already some bishops have authorized the use of different lectionary patterns and, anecdotally, variances in the baptismal formula. This article seeks to uncover the opportunities and the risks of such an approach to liturgical reform in one church, with a view to the effect it may have on that treasured “ecumenical consensus” among the churches.

1. Introduction: The Ecumenical Consensus, Instruments of Communion, and Their Critiques

One of the hallmarks of the twentieth-century liturgical movement was an “ecumenical consensus” ¹ among many churches reflected in a progressive paralleling of liturgical practice, particularly recovery of regular weekly celebration of eucharist and shared recognition of baptism. This convergence has been expressed and solidified in various “instruments”: common or near-common language for shared texts, particularly in English; shared lectionary patterns; and common agreement on certain liturgical forms, such as the words used in baptism. A primary record of these convergences might be tracked through the official denominational resources progressively approved and issued since liturgical reform took hold among Western churches after the Second Vatican Council. While these books have tended to retain denominational flavor and idiom, they have often referenced one another, enshrined similar liturgical patterns, and even borrowed directly from one another. ² I experienced this convergence most recently at a local ecumenical service with two neighboring Presbyterian congregations: Our readings came from the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL), while the liturgy was drawn primarily from Presbyterian sources. Yet, when my Presbyterian colleague began to lead the Great Thanksgiving, I recognized word-for-word portions of Prayer C of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer (BCP). ³

Since at least the 1980s, however, concurrent liturgical and theological developments trouble any irenic account of that consensus. In addition to troubling some of the presumed historical foundations of any liturgical uniformity among ancient churches, ⁴ Christian theological inquiries attentive to human embodiness and culture as sources for theological reflection and liturgical prayer have risen to prominence. Some scholars, including myself, ⁵ have applied these critiques to Christian liturgy by contesting received traditions and their interpretations, and unmasking oppressions masquerading as divine revelation. Critiques by feminist, ⁶ queer, ⁷ and postcolonial voices, ⁸ as well as those reflecting on impairment, ⁹ have by and large revealed the complicity of Christian liturgy in perpetuating oppression based on gender, sexual orientation, body function, and cultural heritage, among others. More recently, attention to the climate crisis has questioned the anthropocentric focus of Christian prayer and its failure to address the existential threat to the planet caused by human intervention. ¹⁰

Denominational bodies have sought to address these critiques in successive iterations of prayer books and “supplemental resources.” ¹¹ Nevertheless, the relative slow pace of denominational-level change has been accompanied by local experiments that seek to address what many perceive as a failure on the part of the churches to adapt. These have included alternative lectionary patterns that either highlight biblical narratives excluded from official lectionaries or that respond to the general lack of biblical knowledge, especially in contemporary Western contexts. ¹² Collections of prayers for use in liturgy have proliferated across denominations and outside them, ¹³ many of which aim to expand language for the divine and human as supplements to official resources. The expanding use of online resources, some sponsored by denominations ¹⁴ and others independent, have progressively shifted the common prayer of most assemblies away from denominational books and hymnals toward service leaflets or projected materials, with digital platforms devoted to that purpose. ¹⁵ While many of the materials found there may be from denominational resources, their connection to their source material is severed, and material from various sources is rendered equivalent. I admit this is my own practice as a preparer of liturgy: While most of the liturgies I prepare draw primarily from Episcopal Church resources, I routinely include prayers from Lutheran, Roman Catholic, and ecumenical resources related to the Revised Common Lectionary. The COVID-19 pandemic shift to online worship has only accelerated these trends, leaving Kristine Suna-Koro to note, in a kind of elegy (or eulogy) for the “ecumenical consensus”: “Liturgical variations and improvisations abound in the (almost) post-pandemic milieu of hybrid worship. It will be impossible to turn back the tide.” ¹⁶

2. Recent Liturgical Developments in the Episcopal Church

Since the approval of the 1979 BCP, the Episcopal Church has resisted a complete revision of its resources, even as most other churches in the Anglican Communion have done so, with the most recent being the Common Worship ¹⁷ series of the Church of England in 2000. In general, the Episcopal Church has been content to issue “supplemental resources” to augment the BCP, including the Book of Occasional Services ¹⁸ (BOS) and the Enriching Our Worship ¹⁹ (EOW) series. The former, which includes additional materials for seasonal celebrations, the catechumenate, and various pastoral services, is by church law easier to modify through an act of the church's triennial General Convention than the BCP. The latter, EOW, first issued in 1998, began as an attempt to propose liturgical texts with more expansive language for the divine (and perhaps delay a fuller liturgical revision), but has since become the repository of other forms of prayer supplementing those found in the BCP, such as forms for celebrating the wedding of a same-gender couple and additional materials for the care of the sick and funerals.

The net effect of publishing “supplements,” however, is that the concerns they were meant to address—particularly the full participation of women and gender and sexual minorities—remain “supplemental,” dependent on whether clergy know about them and how to use them. In fact, since the texts of EOW have only recently been authorized for use without the approval of the local bishop, ²⁰ those texts at least have been not only supplemental but marginalized or even contested as appropriate to common prayer. Even where their use was widely permitted, as in my own Diocese of Chicago, they were not widely embraced: In the three congregations I have served since 2016, I have been the first presider to make regular use of them.

As resources for liturgy have proliferated, the need for a revision has not been lost on the church's governing body, the General Convention, which meets every three years. This primarily legislative body consisting of a House of Bishops and a House of Deputies (the rest of the baptized, including deacons and presbyters) have routinely taken up the matter of liturgical revision since 2015. In general, the results have been mixed: While resolutions continue to affirm liturgical revision, the final resolutions, which must be approved by both houses, have produced ambiguous results. In 2015, the convention directed the church to “prepare a plan for the comprehensive revision of the current Book of Common Prayer” and to present to the 79th General Convention [2018] a process that will “utilize the riches of our Church's liturgical, cultural, racial, generational, linguistic, gender, and ethnic diversity,” while also taking into consideration “the use of current technologies which provide access to a broad range of liturgical resources.” ²¹ In response, Resolution 2018-A068 of the 79th General Convention resolved both to “authorize the ongoing work of liturgical and Prayer Book revision” and to “memorialize the 1979 Book of Common Prayer as a Prayer Book of the church.” (The resolution did not define the meaning of “memorialize.”) That same resolution further directed a Task Force on Liturgical and Prayer Book Revision ²² and the Standing Commission on Structure, Governance, Constitution and Canons to “propose to the 80th General Convention revisions to the Constitutions and Canons to enable the Episcopal Church to be adaptive in its engagement of future generations of Episcopalians, multiplying, connecting, and disseminating new liturgies for mission.” Resolutions from the 80th General Convention in 2022 extended this process, adding two dimensions: the creation of an official website for the church (www.episcopalcommonprayer.org; 2022-A058) and, crucially, to make all authorized and trial use resources of the Episcopal Church interchangeable—that is, liturgies can be curated together from any resource, without the permission of the local bishop. The cumulative effect, according to James Farwell, is that the church's resources have “become as elastic as we have ever known.” ²³

Scholarly reflection on the topic of revision has been similarly mixed. Two edited collections by Episcopal scholars ²⁴ (following up on similar collections in the 1990s ²⁵ ) highlight weaknesses in the current resources but fail to offer full-throated support for revision. While Acts of Convention suggest eagerness among the Deputies for change, those in leadership among bishops and scholars seem to lack the appetite for a complete revision. So far, new resources have been limited to revisions to the language of the four eucharistic prayers of the BCP, though only three of those appear on the church official liturgical website at the time of writing. Modifications to Eucharistic Prayer C, which were not approved by Convention, are apparently available only as an appendix in James Farwell's recently published Ritual Excellence. ²⁶ These relatively light edits are guided by draft “Principles to Guide the Development of Liturgical Texts,” which include direction to “utilize inclusive and expansive language and imagery for humanity and divinity.” ²⁷ The rest of the BCP, however, remains untouched.

3. No More “Acts of Uniformity”?

The movement in the Episcopal Church away from liturgical revision in the form of a new prayer book signals a two-fold rupture, first with an Anglican focus on the BCP and ordinal as the primary and binding expression of common faith ²⁸ (in the absence of an official confession), and second with the further development of the liturgical “ecumenical consensus” expressed in successive revisions of official liturgical resources. This is particularly significant for the Episcopal Church, since unlike most Reformation-era denominations, it has, with some exceptions, required the use of authorized resources, ²⁹ which in the case of the Church of England, was required by an Act of Parliament. ³⁰ These moves take the church more in the direction of a congregational model of liturgical practice and development, with the caveat that experimentation be done in consultation and with the permission of the local bishop. There is, however, little further direction about how the local bishop should be involved.

In some ways, these possibilities have always existed, if with the caveat that a church's “principal Sunday service” adhere to the pattern and texts provided by the BCP, the BOS, and now EOW. Depending on the local bishop (or the daring of local clergy), however, these alternatives may appear in “principal” services. I have been at “principal” liturgies (including an Easter Vigil) in which a eucharistic prayer newly composed by a clergy colleague was used in place of one of the seven authorized Great Thanksgivings of the BCP and EOW. Another church I served routinely used eucharistic prayers from the Iona community on Sunday.

Further, I am aware of at least one instance of a baptism in the diocesan cathedral in San Francisco that did not use the trinitarian formula required by the BCP for the celebration of baptism, replacing “Father” with “Mother,” apparently with the bishop's permission. ³¹ (Interestingly, the presider's microphone was muted for the baptism, and the modified formula did not appear in the printed worship booklet.) Admittedly, the customary Matthean formula has long been the topic of critique from both feminist and ecumenical perspectives, ³² and a variation on the example above, which appends “Mother of us all” to the traditional Matthean formula, has been used at New York City's Riverside Church for some time. ³³ In Episcopal contexts, however, it signals a profound departure from what is “authorized,” the permission of the bishop notwithstanding. Further, developments in the Roman Catholic Church in this matter should give Christians with strong ecumenical sensitivities pause. As Bruce Morrill has documented, ³⁴ in 2020 the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith judged as invalid those baptisms (and all subsequent sacraments, such as ordination) celebrated with a change in the pronoun beginning the baptismal words—from “I baptize” to “We baptize.” The effects of this judgment—rebaptisms and even reordinations—within a single communion suggest the danger posed to broad ecumenical recognition of baptism if communions begin to take different paths regarding the baptismal words. That it happened in the Roman Catholic Church, which among communions is decidedly more restrictive in terms of matter and form for sacramental validity, suggests that the Episcopal variation noted above may be more common than anyone realizes.

To date, these experiments have been relatively limited, but one in particular is becoming more common: the replacement of readings from the Revised Common Lectionary with alternative lectionary patterns. The most recent of these is A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church by biblical scholar Wilda C. Gafney. ³⁵ The resource will eventually include alternative readings for all three cycles of the Revised Common Lectionary, as well as a “Year W” with readings from all four gospels. It also provides its own translation of scripture with particular attention to names for the divine in the Hebrew Bible, along with text commentary and preaching notes. Several clergy in my experience have used A Women's Lectionary, with the permission of the local bishop, despite the direction in the BCP that, especially during the festal seasons, the Revised Common Lectionary must be used at a “principal Sunday service.” The BCP makes little provision for changes to these readings, and certainly not for a wholesale replacement of them, or for a bishop to grant permission to do so; in fact, the BCP expressly forbids any changes to the lectionary in the seasons of Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter. ³⁶

On the one hand, A Women's Lectionary corrects omissions in the Revised Common Lectionary that have been acknowledged for decades. ³⁷ In particular, Gafney's choices of readings and translation center the female characters of the Bible and highlight feminine images of the divine to correct both the erasure of female characters and the centering of masculine characters and images of God. At the same time, unlike the RCL, Gafney's choices, while informed by her own scholarship, are the work finally of an individual. One could argue that the reception of her work by assemblies (or at least by their clergy) begins a process that leads to more general revision, for example, in lectionary patterns, much like the progressive reception of same-gender marriage in the Episcopal Church. ³⁸ Given the current direction of liturgical revision in the Episcopal Church, however, it is equally likely that an updated lectionary like Gafney's will end up as just another link on the church's official website.

4. Appreciative Reservations

While these examples may seem minor, the broader permission for experimentation is only now underway in the Episcopal Church. As a proponent of a complete revision of the Episcopal Church's liturgical resources, I want to affirm at least these initial steps. Still, granting that some of these experiments are attempts to remedy limitations built into both denominational prayer books and shared lectionaries, the current moment suggests some trajectories that may undermine at least some ecumenically derived understandings of good liturgical prayer, in particular that it should open the possibility of a doxological encounter with the living God in and through the assembly. ³⁹ In particular I notice in many efforts a focus on pedagogy, a danger of ideology, and a tendency toward clericalism that may get in the way of that encounter.

4.1. A Focus on Pedagogy

The pedagogical impulse at first blush seems a reasonable response to a progressively less biblically and liturgically literate population. This can be especially true of new lectionary patterns, such as the Narrative Lectionary and Women's Lectionary, which have the laudable goal of expanding listeners’ engagement with scripture. In this, they seem consistent with the goal of lectionary revision, epitomized by the Second Vatican Council's desire to expand the assembly's encounter at the table of the word. ⁴⁰ Admittedly, the choices that created current lectionary patterns have no less been driven by a pedagogical impulse to promote certain theological and doctrinal principles. ⁴¹ And yet to create a lectionary that functions almost as a course syllabus—to introduce the grand narratives of scripture or to highlight the place and role of women and feminine images of God in salvation history—begins to suggest a different purpose for proclaiming scripture in the liturgy toward something more catechumenal than doxological. Admittedly, Gafney's lectionary mirrors the resonance between themes in the First and Second Testaments—as do the Roman and some RCL patterns—but a primary goal of highlighting the stories of women in those texts, complete with revised translation and preaching notes, suggests a hermeneutic overlay that controls the interaction. Granting that current lectionary patterns (and even scripture translations) probably do the same thing without admitting it, it still seems worthwhile to consider the purpose of reading scripture in an assembly, and to what extent a preconceived pedagogical purpose is at odds with a deeper doxological one.

4.2. A Danger of Ideology

The pedagogical impulse can become even more problematic if it makes a shift toward the ideological. Again, granting that there are underlying ideologies at work in the current resources—patriarchal, colonial, gender-based, theological, cultural, and ethnic—merely replacing one set of ideologies with another may not get us far. As Gordon Lathrop has argued, one of the functions of the ordo faithfully engaged is that it punches holes in the “maps” by which human beings organize themselves, ⁴² particularly those “maps” that divide and rank some persons or groups over others, or, worse, propose conflict among them. Having just edited a collection on “queering Christian worship,” ⁴³ I found myself wondering if at least in some instances contributors were inadvertently proposing the imposition of a new ideology on an assembly—a queerer one—to replace the inherited hetero- and cisnormative constructs enshrined in much liturgical language and practice. As a queer person myself, much of what I read was a welcome corrective, and few assemblies in my experience have engaged such reflection. And yet, as a liturgical theologian, I fear that some attempts to “queer worship” might impose queer theological lenses on an assembly rather than evoke from within it an encounter with an already-queer God.

4.3. A Tendency toward Clericalism

Navigating these tensions among the doxological, pedagogical, and ideological is left to those charged with preparing and leading liturgy in local assemblies. Herein lies a further danger, that of a new clericalism at odds with the fundamental assertion of the ecumenical liturgical movement that liturgy is an act of the whole assembly, whose members have a right to the church's prayer. In the absence of robust, assembly-level preparation of liturgical prayer funded by good liturgical formation, the current program risks leaving these decisions in the hands of parish clergy with varying levels of knowledge and expertise, along with the permissiveness of the local bishop, with similar limitations. Further, the absence of a completely revised central resource may mean no revision at all if local bishops and clergy continue to use the BCP in its current form. By not making major revisions to liturgical resources, those who rely on the “memorialized” version will be praying from materials that continue to perpetuate the exclusions, of gender diversity or race, for example, that contemporary liturgical reform is meant to address. To wit, while the Episcopal Church now has a set of “principles” for liturgical texts, there is no intention to apply them to the liturgies of the current BCP. Like EOW before them, even the lightly edited texts of the BCP's eucharistic prayers may end up languishing on a website or consigned to Appendix B at the back of someone's book.

5. Seeking the “Both/And”: An Ecumenical “Quadrilateral”?

If anything, the developments noted above in the Episcopal Church signal where many communions have already traveled, not least many in the Anglican Communion, whose sibling churches have long been producing their own variations on a “book of common prayer,” many housed online. The Church of England has itself, at least in practice, replaced “The” BCP (that of 1662) with its Common Worship series, leaving some to lament the loss of the final mark of Anglican identity found through common (or near common) words. Given the authorized diversity in the language of prayer across communions, that ship has long sailed. But along with those who grieve a certain uniformity as a mark of common identity, might the ecumenical liturgical movement also find itself in the same boat? It may be that the “consensus” was more aspirational than real, and while many denominational books reflect it, most denominations do not require the use of those books.

A more positive approach might be to ask if there are “instruments of communion” that can continue to provide a common center of gravity for churches as they pray across great diversity. As an Episcopalian and ecumenical liturgist with an interest in both reliable liturgical resources and revisions that respond to historic injustices, I find myself in search of that Anglican “middle way” that meets both needs. As Sylvia Sweeney suggested some years ago, ⁴⁴ one of the “historical documents” of Anglican tradition, the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral, ⁴⁵ might provide a guide at least for us Anglicans, and perhaps for our broader ecumenical family. The Quadrilateral, intended to be an Anglican starting point toward greater unity among Christian churches, provides through its four points a basic structure that might guide a renewed “liturgical consensus” across churches—or at least yield further questions to explore. In its preamble, however, it suggests an openness and humility that eschews any attempt to find a new “uniformity” by stating: “That in all things of human ordering or human choice, relating to modes of worship and discipline, or to traditional customs, this Church is ready in the spirit of love and humility to forego all preferences of her [sic] own.” ⁴⁶

5.1. The Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as the Revealed Word of God

The Quadrilateral's first point affirms “the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments” as “the revealed word of God” and “containing all things necessary to salvation.” The ecumenical development of parallel lectionaries, with their variations, affirms the necessity of both bodies of scripture—those inherited from Judaism and those produced by the first Christians—and suggests Christian liturgy ought to draw broadly from both. It further suggests that the readings, like liturgy, ought to be ordered beyond the choice of the pastor, in some rhythm with the liturgical year. But how they are used and interact need not be uniform. In the past fifty years, churches have explored both semi-continuous reading of biblical texts and allegorical juxtapositions of them. The RCL already offers two patterns for reading scripture over half the liturgical year. Other patterns are emerging alongside these: Might the RCL be expanded to include more options in different seasons, attentive to the critiques exposed by A Women's Lectionary, among others? Might variations also include options for inclusion of other sources, or the development of local lectionaries?

An affirmative answer suggests the need for a more ecumenical and programmatic engagement with the purposes of proclaiming scripture in the assembly. At the same time, the churches must also ask if there is value in common reading at some points in the liturgical year, or if the fact of reading scripture is a sufficient sign of unity across traditions.

5.2. The Nicene Creed and the Apostles’ Creed as Guiding Sources

The Quadrilateral's second point affirms the Nicene Creed as “the sufficient statement of Christian faith,” and the Apostles’ Creed as the “Baptismal Symbol.” There are few common texts that most of the world's Christians acknowledge as such a “sufficient statement,” and many churches encourage or require their use in many liturgies. For the purposes of an “ecumenical consensus,” might they also be “sufficient” sources to guide the development of new forms of “right praise,” both providing some historic “namings” for the divine while also suggesting patterns toward new three-fold “namings” of the Trinity? Both symbols provide more than one name for the first and second persons of the Trinity. Their brevity also places limits on how much they can constrain. Beyond these credal texts, are there others still, such as the Prayer That Jesus Taught or simple responses, about which churches might come to broad enough agreement to seek at least parallel expressions across churches and language groups? ⁴⁷

5.3. Bath and Meal as the Heart of Christian Common Prayer

The Quadrilateral's third mark is the primacy of “Baptism and the Supper of the Lord” as “ordained by Christ himself,” including “unfailing use of Christ's words of Institution, and of the elements ordained by him.” The Quadrilateral—approved in 1886 (Chicago) and 1888 (Lambeth)—did not benefit from the scholarship of the last 150 years regarding the connection between the historical Jesus and the accounts of the early church as preserved in the letters of Paul and the gospels. Nevertheless, those early sources are witnesses to a near continuous practice of Bath and Meal that lie at the heart of Christian common prayer. While there has been variation in the placement of the eucharistic words (including, in some sources, their absence), they have often signaled the intention to celebrate eucharist. Likewise, the Matthean baptismal words, while also contested, have become the agreed-upon form for common recognition across churches. Changes to these core forms demand more than the permission of a local bishop; they need the discernment of the community of churches. Is it time to reopen the question of the Matthean words as necessary for baptismal recognition across churches? Or are there, as I have argued, ⁴⁸ other patterns, whether in the words themselves or the prayers that surround baptism, that might both preserve and expand that baptismal language? Ruth Duck has highlighted the scriptural warrant for alternatives, including baptism “in the name of Jesus,” still practiced in some churches, ⁴⁹ along with her own three-fold water-themed naming: “fountain,” “offspring,” and “wellspring.” ⁵⁰ The Episcopal Church's Enriching Our Worship series includes among its trinitarian blessings, “Holy eternal Majesty, holy incarnate Word, holy abiding Spirit, bless you for evermore.” ⁵¹ Might any of these gain ecumenical traction as alternatives? As to the “words of institution,” which are required in Episcopal eucharistic prayers, are there other forms that might suffice to signal the church's intention to celebrate eucharist that do not rely on a narration of the Last Supper? ⁵²

5.4. Local Adaptation of the “Historic Episcopate”

Finally, the Quadrilateral commends the “Historic Episcopate” though “locally adapted to the varying needs of nations and peoples called to God into the unity of His Church.” While this final mark threatens “consensus” among churches with different understandings of apostolic ministry, its attention to local (ecclesial) adaptation is an invitation to mutual recognition. One concrete way is through mutual agreement to recognize not only baptism but other offices of ministry, and, when possible, to exercise those ministries together in a single liturgy. To wit: Due to a rainstorm that forced us indoors, the liturgy in which my Presbyterian colleague presided at the table took place in our Episcopal congregation's building. Because our churches do not share full communion, and the local bishop was present, I had to finesse a canonical irregularity. My bishop, while gracious, was concerned that I did not appear to be presiding at the table along with my Presbyterian colleague. Is there another way to think about such interactions? But beyond ordination, how might an appeal to common baptism as a source for both liturgical and ecclesial communion encourage cooperation across communions to address these questions together?

These principles, or others like them, will not—and should not—impose or enforce a uniformity in prayer, which has never really existed anyway, even within communions. They might, however, propose a kind of “order” to help shape the “liberty” of communions as a whole and assemblies in particular in curating common prayer that not only bears a family resemblance across churches but also proposes a catholicity that joins a company of voices into a great and diverse song of praise—a goal that is surely a worthwhile pursuit, even if its fullness lies beyond.