Most Sunday mornings, you’ll find Gerry and me in downtown Moose Jaw in a beautiful century old church building, called St. Aidan, with a body of local believers. Together we pray, give attention to God’s word by reading and listening to scripture, listen to a short homily, and receive the Eucharist.
Anglican services are steeped in tradition and participatory. We use the liturgy found in our prayer book (the Book of Alternative Services), sing from a hymn book (Common Praise), and our scripture readings are from the Revised Common lectionary. We follow the liturgical year: Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, six weeks of Ordinary Time, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and Ordinary Time, which continues until Advent comes round again. Over the years, I’ve worshiped in a variety of churches in different traditions, but the Anglican church feels most like home to me.
Still, being totally honest here, some Sundays I still feel like I’m going through the motions. Other weeks, something—a piece of scripture, something the Priest says during the homily, or an inexplicable sense of deep calling unto deep—grips me and I carry it with me out the wooden doors and into the coming week.
This week it was the offertory hymn, One Bread, One Body. According to Common Praise, it was written by John B. Foley and copyrighted in 1998. We sing this beautiful song often, but there was something different in the way it touched me this morning.
One Bread, One Body
One bread, one body, one Lord of all, one cup of blessing which we bless.
And we, though many, throughout the earth, we are one body in this one Lord.
Gentile or Jew, servant or free, woman or man no more.
One bread, one body, one Lord of all, one cup of blessing which we bless.
And we, though many, throughout the earth, we are one body in this one Lord.
Many the gifts, many the works, one in the Lord of all.
One bread, one body, one Lord of all, one cup of blessing which we bless.
And we, though many, throughout the earth, we are one body in this one Lord.
Grain for the fields, scattered and grown, gathered to one for all.
One bread, one body, one Lord of all, one cup of blessing which we bless.
And we, though many, throughout the earth, we are one body in this one Lord.
This morning, as we sang, I looked around the sanctuary, struck by the combination of both diversity and unity in our little parish. Canadians, and others who are new to our beautiful country. A plethora of gifts: musicians, writers, scholars (Briercrest College and Seminary is just down the highway at Caronport), and others who serve the body in a variety of ways, seen and unseen.
They reminded me of who we are at St. Aidan and, indeed, who we can be in the world. In our Creator’s eyes, there are no differences (Gentile or Jew, servant or free, woman or man). We all have gifts and something to bring to the table (many the gifts, many the works) to share and partake of together. The bounty, especially relevant as harvest is gearing up here in Saskatchewan, (grain for the fields, scattered and grown) is enough for all when we use it wisely.
I felt rich as we sang together while the table was being prepared for all to partake of the Eucharist and love flowed through the sanctuary. But, I also felt sad about the division in the world and our seeming inability to treat one another with dignity and respect in light of our differences. I felt convicted about my own propensity to take up offenses, refuse to listen, and see someone as other. I will, prayerfully, take my desire to do better into the coming week.
I’ll probably listen to this song a few times too. You can listen to a quiet rendition of One Bread, One Body here too.