What I would like to do this morning is take you on an imaginary journey, a kind of time machine if you like which will take us to five differing services down the ages to show us how the past has influenced our worship today. Our journey starts in Jerusalem and will end here.
We begin our journey in an upper room in Jerusalem AD30. The disc are gathered with Jesus as he celebrates the Passover. He takes bread and wine, give thanks to God, blesses it and hands it to each of them. But as they listen to his words something different seems to be happening. It seems that this is no longer a meal remembering their liberation from Egypt instead Jesus says that this is his body and blood given for them. And tells them to do this in remembrance of him.
Our time machine now takes us to the year 100 and to the city of Ephesus on the Turkish coast. We are in the house of Justin the philosopher together with thirty other Christians or followers of the way. It is Sunday morning and they have come in secret, fearing persecution. They read some scripture, one person gives a talk encouraging his hearers to live Holy lives, they stand to pray together, sometimes with their arms raised, they share the kiss of peace and then we bless and share bread and wine. And somehow they know that Jesus is still with them.
We now move onwards to the year 300 and to the new city of Constantinople, modern day Istanbul. The Roman Emperor has converted to Christianity, named this city after himself and filled it with magnificent Churches. A Roman general Flavian stands below the dome of a Church dedicated to peace. Its first time he has been here and he sees a priest wearing Imperial style robes, walking in procession, led by someone carrying incense and he knows that he is witnessing something new, important and possibly something Holy. Intrigued by this new imperial religion we watches the service and hears the Lord’s Prayer, he hears a Jewish synagogue prayer that begins ‘Holy, Holy, Holy’ and he hears the words spoken by Jesus on the night that he was betrayed.
Over the coming decades, across the Roman Empire Churches are being built and differing types of Eucharistic prayers are developing. In the east the prayers emphasise the work of the Holy spirit. In the west they focus on Jesus words at the last supper. Over time to heighten the sense of reverence, altars are moved away from the people, screens are put up to protect the Holy space and ordinary people take communion less frequently for fear of not being worthy.
Our time machine now takes us to London, the year is 1408. We find ourselves in a new Chapel on the south bank of the Thames next to the Priory of St Mary. The poet Laureate John Gower has just died. He was rich and has paid for a priest to celebrate mass in his memory and in hope of securing his place in heaven. The priest prays in Latin but few attend, those who do are engrossed in their private prayers but look up to worship Jesus present in the bread when a bell is rung. As this priest holds the bread high he prays that John Gower may be spared the fires of hell. Gower’s tomb can still be seen in Southwark Cathedral.
Our time machine now takes us forward to 1618 but has only moved us to the other side of Southwark Cathedral. Here lies the tomb of Lancelot Andrews post Reformation Bishop of Winchester. He has much influenced by Calvin and was one of the chief translators of the King James Version. Like other reformers Andrews was keen for worship to be in English, for Scriptural reflection and long sermons. During his time the Church adopted more simple ceremony and rejected the idea of the Eucharist as a new sacrifice to God. As he celebrates Holy Communion at the High Altar Bishop Andrews stands to one side, so that the people can be assured that there are no hocus pocus or strange Roman practices. The expectation was that lay people would receive communion at least three times a year with Matins and Evensong being more common.
Finally our time machine bring us here to south Dulwich. The year is 1868 and the Bishop of Mauritius (deputising for the Bishop of Winchester) is consecrating this Church, a fine example of Victorian neo-gothic. It’s architecture aims to focus the eye on our high Altar but its worship led by the first vicar Rev. John Meek Clark continues the tradition of Morning prayer. If we were able to watch the changes here since that service, we would see subtle changes to the worship influenced by changes across the Church of England.
Over the last hundred years there has been greater study of early Christian worship, greater agreement between differing denominations and from 1950s onwards the Eucharist has become the main act of worship in much of the Church. New Prayer books in 1928, 1980 and 2000 sought to modernise language, to involve the congregation in more of the prayers and to rediscover ancient biblical symbols and actions. One of the results for St Stephen’s has been that in the 1990s some pews were removed, these steps were created and the nave altar was introduced, meaning that the priest is not only is closer to the people and faces them. Now our time machine has run out of energy and you may have as well! And I’m sorry if our journey has left you dizzy! Let me finish by recap on how this history has shaped what is happening here this morning. We are here following Christ’s command at the last supper to do this in remembrance of him. The gestures I make and the words I say in the Eucharistic prayer come from Jesus own actions of taking, thanking, blessing and breaking bread.
Our readings, sermon and sharing of the peace come from ancient Christian practice, the chasuble I am wearing comes from the days of the Roman Empire, the Sanctus we will sing comes from Isaiah’s vision in the temple, our range of prayers through the year reflect the differing insights of Orthodox, catholic and reformed theology. Our focus on Scripture and the importance of the sermon comes from the reformation and our Nave altar returns us to the early church experience of the Eucharist as a community gathered around a table for a Holy meal. At its best our worship takes us back to the upper room, draws on the riches of the past and offers us a vision of Glory. And that hope is the basis of a prayer I often use in the vestry before the service. A prayer with which I now wish to close.
Let us pray:
Be present, be present Lord Jesus our great high priest
and make yourself know in the breaking of the bread
as you were to the first disciples.
Amen.
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