My first significant experience of saying a public office was at the Church of the Advocate in North Philadelphia. Fr. John Black was the curate. He had served as a Marine Corp drill instructor before going to seminary. On some days Jack sang Morning Prayer in Russian in the shower. He’d then gather up whatever crew of young people who were staying in the curacy and take us to breakfast on Susquehanna Avenue. We’d wander back to the church by 10:00 am for Morning Prayer in a side chapel. He’d throw on a black cassock, and whether alone or with others, offer that act of daily adoration.
All that mixed in my formation along with the writings of several Episcopal women who thought it best to say Morning Prayer, with coffee, at the kitchen table.
So, I had a pattern in my head—Office in the church if I was the parish priest and could decide it would be so; and Office with coffee if I was on my own. It’s been my pattern for over 50 years. Some years more faithfully than others.
Lent became a time that often included getting back-on-the-horse of the Daily Office. When I had drifted into irregular practice--not doing it some days or truncating it because I was just so busy—Lent was a time to return, to give myself to the stability and obedience that offered true life.
These days I say the office on my own. Well, not really, there’s always the angels and archangels and whole company of heaven. There’s no parish nearby that has a public office. I know—shocking!
So, since I moved into my West Seattle apartment I’ve had a routine of getting my shower (I don’t sing and I don’t know Russian), and walking to Uptown Expresso for my morning coffee, I’d return home and make breakfast, then I’d say Morning Prayer—if I didn’t get distracted by something else. If I did get distracted there was always Noon Prayers. If I remembered.
All a bit too hit-and-miss isn’t it?
So, it’s Lent. And you and I need to get-back-on-the-horse. For some of you, such as my active parish priest friends in the Order of the Ascension, offering a public Office is a given. But even “givens” get undone when we move, get ill, or go on sabbatical.
My Lent will include changing my routine. Before the shower, coffee at Uptown Espresso, and breakfast will come Morning Prayer (with coffee in my chair). And to make a “right beginning” I will light the candles, take note of the icons on my wall, and read a brief commentary on the Gospel reading (Scott Lewis SJ, these first days and then Francis Moloney SDB, on Mark). Then the shower, walk, coffee shop, and breakfast.
And being a good Anglican, and having read Martin Thornton, I'll make needed adjustments as the weeks unfold.
Nice being retired, you think. True. But if you’re a busy person running a parish, tending a home, or with a job that starts at 8:30 am—figure it out. As Blessed Covey put it – “The key is not to prioritize your schedule, but to schedule your priorities.” If participating in the Daily Prayers of the Church is a priority for you—arrange your schedule so it is offered. Take into account your circumstances and temperament, and then find a way to make it happen. Sing it in the shower in Russian if needs be.
A final nudge, if you are a parish priest you have all the time you need to offer A Prayer Book Lent. Announce it on Sunday and begin it on Monday (or Tuesday).
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