Return of the Liturgical Year

The title of this post is slightly misleading. Technically, the church's liturgical calendar never went on hiatus. But the summer months are filled with those interminable sundays labeled "N-th Sunday After Pentecost". These Sundays admittedly drag into the fall a bit, but its less noticable because regular church operations resume. Sunday School starts back up, Bible studies resume, the pastorate plunges into a new sermon series, choirs start practicing. We put away the lackadaisical-ness of summer, with those light airy anthems, and, if the church lack air conditioning, begin contemplating wearing cassocks and cottas again.

Some nice anglican priest who posts pictures to WikiCommons

Don't get me wrong. I love a good summer anthem, and the summer sermon series can be well done. But have you ever heard a truly riveting 18th Sunday after Pentecost anthem? Is there such a thing? Has anyone gotten really excited to go to church because it's the N-th Sunday after Pentecost?

I love getting back into the fall because I have so much to look forward to. Two of my favorite anthems (excluding Christmas and Easter) always came into the rotation in October and early November. "At the Round Earth's Imagined Corners", by the late great Lee Hoiby with a text from John Donne's sonnets was my favorite even before I really understood what it was talking about. The music is just so wonderfully perfect, ranging from bombastic and triumphant to somber and grim to quiet and contemplative, perfectly fitting the text to music, and its hard to beat Donne for religious poetry outside of the psalms. The other answer is based on Psalm 107 by : "They that Go Down to the Sea in Ships" by Hurbert Sumions*. The first reason is purely silly. Midway through the anthem, there is the line "They reel to and fro/And stagger like a drunken man", to music that brilliantly illustrates this idea, and growing up I swear our choir swayed slightly while singing it.  The second is it is simply a beautifully written anthem that captures the motion of ocean waves, the terror of sailors caught in a storm, and the relief at being brought home safely. Growing up, I waited all year long for these anthems. When I was big enough to turn pages but not old enough to sing I liked to turn pages for "At the Round Earth's Imagined Corners". It was fun sitting on the organ bench for the loud bits with all the pedal work. Almost as fun as Widor's "Toccata" at Easter. 

We also start getting Sundays where the church wears colors other than her "workaday green", as Dorothy L. Sayers so nicely put it. Christ the King, with white drapings and triumphant hymns. Advent with its purple and candles and hymns of hope and expectation. The wonders of Christmas white, plus candles and greenery. Even without special clothes, we get the special Sundays of World Communion and Reformation Sunday. And it continues like this all winter long, and into spring, until we hit Pentecost and the interminable Sundays that come after it. 

Although a lot of people, my husband included, don't see the point of the liturgical calendar, I enjoy it. I like that it gives a rhythm to my year. I also like the fact that it walks us through every aspect of the story of Salvation. The liturgical year begins with Advent, our hopeful anticipation of the arrival of Emmanuel, God with us. Christmas marks his arrival in the world. Christ's baptism by John. Lent, when we are supposed to contemplate all the ways we have failed God, renew our devotion to him, and think on how lost we would be without Christ's redemptive act. Holy week, going from the emotional high of Palm Sunday to the despair on Good Friday, to the joy of Easter morning  when we proclaim "He is risen! Alleluia!" The happiness of post Easter, Ascension and Pentecost, when red banners fly to symbolize the tongues of fire. And then, work a day green. After all the excitement of Christ's years on earth, we are left with work to do. Get down to evangelizing, caring for the poor, doing the work we are called to do until Christ comes again. The church year ends on Christ the King Sunday, when we celebrate Christ's triumphant return in Glory, a reminder of what we are working for. And then the cycle starts over again, spiritual renewal through the winter so we can go about our work again the next year.

This spring and summer have been emotionally, spiritually and physically draining for me. I'm glad to get back into the renewal part of the church year, because I feel the need of it.

I think this post is a little less coherent than I meant it to be, but hopefully you can forgive me that.

* Corrected from Henry Purcell. Who also wrote a version, but not the one I'm talking about.