Tag Archives: Eucharist

Chapter 14: Night Office on saints’ days

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On Saints’ Days (feasts) and all Church festivals the Night Office should be ccarried out as on Sunday, the exceptions being that the psalms, antiphons and lessons are to be appropriate to these days.

Why remember the saints?

Coming from the reform tradition, i.e. protestant, this chapter may cause some of my brothers and sisters some confusion or a desire to pass over this short chapter as unimportant. Having grown up in the Roman Catholic Church, however, I have had to understand the importance of saints and, although I reject the need to pray to saints in time of need, I do see the benefit of identifying with them in the ‘communion of saints’. Spending a day meditating on the life of Christians who have died in the faith and, sometimes, for the faith is a great practice. It helps to inspire, challenge and encourage us in our own walk of transformation into the likeness of Christ.

On 24th March 1980, Oscar Romero, bishop of El Salvador, was assassinated whilst presiding at the Eucharist in a small chapel. This year I was reminded of his life and witness via ‘Daily Prayer’ of the Northumbria Community which gives a brief biography of particular saints on their feast day. Romero is a particularly significant Christian figure for me. When I was a teenager in the Roman Catholic Church I went through Confirmation, a rite of passage for any Christian who wants to take personal ownership of the faith given to them through Baptism. Now is not the time to explore the development of the rite/sacrament of Confirmation but it just needs to be said that, in my church at the time, it was customary to take the rite of Confirmation when you were 16 years old.

During the Confirmation service in the Roman Catholic Church the candidate chooses a saint’s name to be given. This is an interesting practice and should create an opportunity for the Christian to rename themselves and to have a development in identity as they try to identify with a saint of the Church. Unfortunately for our church, and the poor Archbishop who presided over our Confirmation, as teenagers, we didn’t take this very seriously and our year had chosen the most obscure saints names, not because of the example they set or the affinity we felt with them but merely to try to confuse the Archbishop (I’m sorry to him!) And so, one after the other, the Archbishop renamed teenagers in Tunbridge Wells,

Bonaventure, Sexburga, Zynovij, Bairfhoin…

And after these came me,

Odo.

So technically, I could write that my full name is Edward James Odo Lunn. I don’t!

After my Confirmation, as a group, we started a new youth group for those post-Confirmation. Our parish priest at the time, one Fr. Michael Evans, a godly man to whom I have been inspired throughout my life, named this group the Romero Group. We were introduced to the name and it was met with blank faces from all. Fr. Michael then introduced us to the life and death of Oscar Romero…

If I had known this story before my Confirmation, then I’m sure I’d have had the great privilege of naming my desire to emulate the walk of disciples to Jesus of Oscar Romero. Ever since hearing his story, told so passionately by Fr. Michael on that Sunday evening, Romero has been, in my mind, an exemplar of what being a disciple is like.

So on 24th March this year I dedicated the day to reflecting on Romero’s life and death. I changed my profile picture to a photograph of him and published some quotes and my reflections. You can read some of what Oscar Romero did and said here. The main thing I admire about Romero was the way he both remained steadfast in his faith and theology whilst adapting to the context in which he found himself. He was appointed to the Episcopal See of El Salvador because he was a conservative traditionalist and was deemed a ‘safe pair of hands’ in a time of great uncertainty and uprising in the lower classes. He remained, in my eyes, conservative and traditionalist but, after his Jesuit friend was killed, Romero’s ministry developed and he began standing with the poor and marginalised, to fight injustice. he did not betray his heritage or tradition, nor did he waiver in his theological standpoint but he grew into a deeper understanding of this.

I see the same characteristics in the new Pope Francis. It is the Catholic Church, based in the home of liberation theology, South America, which manages, in my opinion, to balance the love and commitment to Scripture and Tradition, and, at the same time, reveal the open love of God through Jesus Christ. There is no compromising at any point. It is a difficult and rare skill to be able to stand in that point of apparent paradox and contradiction that the power of God’s love is shown. Oscar Romero epitomises this ability to me and reveals Christ and it is this that I seek to grow into, with the help of God. To spend a day praying this prayer for help is a worthwhile and valuable thing to do.

But be warned: it is easy to read into the lives of the departed saints what we want to see. No doubt I have done this with Romero and with countless other saints I admire. It is a natural human instinct to make gods/idols in our own image; we’ve done it with Jesus, we can do it with one of his disciples. Take, St Aelred of Rievaulx, as an example. On his feast day (12th January) there was a flurry of articles and reflections on the question of St. Aelred’s sexuality. His most famous work is ‘Spiritual Friendship’ which is an excellent book on community and relationships. In this book St. Aelred’s relationship with younger monks, depicted in a series of dialogues with them, seems to be very close and intimate. In St. Aelred’s monastery, of which he was the Abbot, he allowed/encouraged monks to hold hands and to meet each other with a holy kiss. All this could be seen as an open acceptance of homosexuality within the monastery. I do not deny that St. Aelred is indeed encouraging close intimacy between brothers (and sisters) and is akin to that of a romantic couple but I refute that this necessarily means that he condoned homesexual practice. I doubt very much if he would remain as an abbot if he had been so ‘progressive’.

I love St. Aelred and his ideas about deep commitment between people of any gender. I encourage that sort of relationship now, same sex or opposite sex, but the complication comes when we discuss the matter of the sexual act and to immediately suggest that one must contain the other is a fallacy.

What upset me on the feast day of St. Aelred was the ease with which people ‘out’ed a dead man. Whether he struggled with his sexuality or not; whether he always wanted to admit to his superiors his same sex attraction or not is not our job to say for him. That action has been dealt with between St. Aelred and his God. However much we feel we are doing St. Aelred a justice in proclaiming his perceived sexuality, it is not our place and nor the reason he should be remembered. St. Aelred, along with all the saints, should be remembered for their proclamation and witness to God. For St. Aelred and Romero this must be only what they said and did not what we hoped they said and did.

Reflection

To connect ourselves with past Christians from a bygone era seems a dangerous thing to do to us in a progressive generation whose obsession with our own ability to ‘improve’. We are in an age where all progress is good progress and we are growing in enlightenment. We are now more informed and more rational than any generation before us and we are building on the past in positive and constructive ways. Unfortunately, the same could be said of the people in Babel. We reached a climax of this thinking during the 20th century when all our intelligence and rationality, all our philosophies and ethics culminated in the possibility of two World Wars and a death toll unimaginable before. Despite this fact, we still consider ourselves as evolving and improving.

For me, remembering saints, reading and learning the tradition holds and protects me from considering that I am in anyway unique or special without a great cloud of witnesses behind me. If I cut myself off from their example and their lives and deaths, I isolate myself. I leave myself open to the temptation and fallacy that I am an island and able to survive without God.  I build a tower of my own to reach the heavens in an attempt to displace God from His throne and take charge of the whole world…

Many have tried. All have failed. Alleluia!

Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. Draw me closer to yourself, through the crowd of saints who gather round your throne where they worship and adore  you for your amazing sovereignty, grace and love.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Chapter 9: how many psalms are to be said in the Night Office

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…As the singer starts the Gloria, everyone will stand at once and all will bow their heads in honour of the Holy Trinity.

What’s so special about ordained ministry?

The fact that St. Benedict decides to give more than one chapter to this particular Divine Office seems to highlight an important point. I feel, having sat with it for a week in prayer, the point it makes is the cost of this particular monastic calling. If the Divine Office of Matins starts at midnight and the next Office (Lauds) is at daybreak then the question of when sleep happens is very pertinent.

Last week I decided to stay up and do prays starting at midnight. I did the Evening Prayer from Common Worship with all the Canticles and lectionary readings and psalms. I was finished at 12.35pm but I didn’t spend that long in intercessory prayer. To be truthful I was rushing the office. My meditation on the Psalms was minimal at best and the readings weren’t going in. This is all forgivable, I told myself, but what was interesting was that what I was asking myself to do was small in comparison to what is required of the Office of Matins in the Rule of St. Benedict.

If you just read the amount of Psalms alone it’s enough to make your head swim (and I love the Psalms!) This is clearly a long Office and is intended to be a real ‘vigil’. As monks you were being asked to, after a day of work and prayer to stay and watch with the Lord, like the disciples in Gethsemane. Before Matins some monks would have to have had a short nap in order to give full attention to the Office because I don’t think an abbot would be too pleased with snoring during an Antiphon!

This week, as part of the Northumbria Community’s set daily reflections, have been using quotes that have shaped the community’s narrative and identity. On March 2nd they quote Thomas Merton,

The monk is not defined by his task, his usefulness. In a certain sense he is supposed to be ‘useless’ because his mission is not to do this or that job but to be a man of God. (Thomas Merton, ‘Contemplation in a World of Action’ (New York: Doubleday, 1971) p.27)

A monk, unlike others called into ministry (lay and ordained), is to be dedicated to the work of prayer and watching. Increasingly I feel, within the conversation of ‘leadership’, that the forms of leadership of the laity and the clergy are so synonymous that it is hard, with any integrity, to distinguish the two unless we embrace a more monastic view of ordained leadership. This distinction would then release the model of leadership currently being proposed as ‘ordained ministry’ into the realm of the laity (as it already is in many instances) focussing on the life of ordained ministers to be the necessary centres of sacraments, prayer and watching.

This is not necessarily a passive, background ministry, although that may be one form it takes. Rather it allows for a spiritual leadership of a community distinguished from the functional, administrative and management that ties down many rectors, vicars, priests. To be the centre of sacraments is a more holistic ministry than the purely functional presidency of the Eucharistic life of the parish but extends to the ministry of reconciliation, bridging and being the focus of connection with a tradition both historically and globally. The ordained ministry, in all three forms (deacon, priest and bishop) would then be allowed to be a more spiritual oversight and guides to a community giving equal worth and value in the lay ministry of leadership akin to a Prior in the monastery compared with the abbot.

The work of keeping vigil is an important one but one that cannot be done by the same people who also have the pressures and strains of keeping and maintaining the practical work of a community going. The two must be connected and serve one another and so the organic image of the Body of Christ comes into focus.

In the missional community I am a part of, Burning Fences, there are many exercising leadership amongst us. What’s exciting about the group is the freedom for any member to take responsibility and direct us. There are clearly those who do this more naturally than others but there’s also those who do this leading in a more quiet way. As I reflect on my role within this particular community I am excited that I am free to be a priest amongst them; ordained in the Church of England to be that focus of tradition, a story-keeper of the Christian faith. This means that I can participate in discernment as to the direction we should take but not more so than anyone else. I bring a unique and important voice to discussions, yes, I speak on behalf of the Christian faith, with all the responsibilities that brings. I watch, with God, those who drift and dwell around the edges and try and warn against falling into an abyss that will hurt or harm. I am not the centre of power, however; far from it. Others make decisions. I am their to ensure the story continues to ring true in character and is connected into the larger story of God through Jesus Christ. If one decides to venture down a particular path and I have spoken warning, then I fall into silence and pray. I will, with God, walk down that path to search for them if they become lost and hold them until they come back to safety of His loving presence.

Reflection

This chapter in the Rule of St. Benedict challenges me on my vows as a priest,

With their Bishop and fellow ministers, they are to proclaim the word of the Lord and to watch for the signs of God’s new creation. They are to be messengers, watchmen and stewards of the Lord. (The Ordination of Priests, Common Worship: Ordination Services, The Archbishops’ Council of the Church of England: The Prayer Book as Proposed in 1928; The Alternative Service Book 1980; both of which are copyright © The Archbishops’ Council of the Church of England)

I do not see in my vows the terms of management, secular leadership, etc. which is pushed through some areas of the Church. Why not release this to the laity and encourage and empower them to do this and for those called to ordained ministry to be those who oversee the spiritual aspects of the worshipping community? I’m sure there is funding issues and logistical issues in relation to manpower and deployment but I feel there is conversation to be had on that.

The call into ordained ministry really centred on this watchman role, the one who is willing to keep a vigil for the Kingdom of God. I feel my priesthood is about being the person who watches a community, guards the vulnerable on the fringes and ensures they are reconciled to Christ as the centre. I am in a community to pull the community around Christ as the centre and to focus our mission into the work of the Church Universal through the Word and Sacraments.

Lord, make me useless in the eyes of others and strengthen me in my task of prayer, reconciliation and watching. Give me the heart to keep Your story being told through the lives of all who you put in my charge and may I lead them by my discipleship into Your loving presence each day.

Come, Lord Jesus.

In The Minster (part I)

At the end of day two of my placement at York Minster there seems to be one big question running through my head and the conversations I’ve been having; “What’s the difference between Cathedral ministry and parish ministry?”

Canon Glyn Webster describes his role at the Minster as “The Parish Priest of the community” despite the Minster not being a ‘parish’. He sees his role as overseeing the pastoral needs of those who work and worship in the hallowed Gothic building in the centre of York. The staff here are amazed (and glad to tell me) that the Minster congregation is growing. Early morning Matins and Evensong every day and all Sunday services have increased their regular number over the last decade or so. This has not surprised me. Having spent the last two years working with Durham Cathedral and listening to many who work in Cathedrals across the country, this trend is shared by most of the Cathedrals. Why is this?

I had a very encouraging conversation with an ex arch-deacon of Cleveland, Ron Woodley today. He spoke passionately about parochial ministry and encouraged me by stating that “It’s the greatest life you’ll ever live. It’s hard but on balance I have never known of a more joyful life!” What a ringing endorsement from someone who had 40 years of active ministry. In the midst of our conversation he said something that rang true and has been helpful in my reflections. He suggested the difference between parish ministry and the ministry of the Cathedral is the Cathedral offers worshippers anonymity where parish life doesn’t.

I believe that to be true but is that a benefit or problem?

I have no doubt that there is a strong sense of community here in the Minster. I sat through a very touching funeral of a staff member and the sense of community was palpable. The packed quire at both the funeral service and at Evensong last night speaks of a committed worshipping community. During the worship, however, you just fade into the milieu of faces. I, personally, love that. I am not important to be individually picked out but I am just one, tiny speck, in a sea of people all worshipping and praising the almighty God.

In parishes, I have experienced a cry to ensure everyone is welcomed and identified and spoken to and acknowledged. This is very important if people are to feel part of a community. Too often we become insular and cliquey isolating and rejecting the new-comer. The sign of peace is a time to speak to and individually welcome each member of the community into worship. There is no anonymity. People want to and need to talk to you, know how you are, who you are before worshipping. There is no fading into the background and having time with God.

Here is the strange paradox; In order to have a personal moment with God, un-hindered by the concern that people might be looking at you, you need to fade into the sea of people. But to make people feel part of the sea of people we feel the need to personally meet and greet each person.

I find it interesting that Cathedral congregations are growing. Is it because that anonymity is important? That sense of a private experience in the protection of the mass of people is an aspect of our culture at the moment, is it not? In the development of evangelism of the last couple of hundred years we have seen a journey from up the front delivery to conversational, didactic forms of evangelism. The issue we face at the moment is no one even wants to ask the questions or engage in conversation. Many people have researched and studied the trends and we find ourselves in a culture that no longer asks questions of faith. I’m not saying that the Alpha model of evangelism, answering the questions of life, is outmoded but the research shows that it is increasingly difficult to get people wanting to even go to the meal!

What Cathedral worship offers which parish ministry doesn’t nor shouldn’t offer is the chance of a private, personal, surprise encounter with God. This may well lead onto the need for Alpha or any conversation with people of faith.

We have been trying to wrestle with this in our ‘Fresh Expression’ in Durham Cathedral (UR32B.wordpress.com). At the heart of this service is the desire to encounter God in the space; un-intrusive, anonymous, private encounters. We have struggled with the issue of how we create community with people who only want to experience God privately and not in community. How do you establish a Eucharistic community in this individualistic environment?

I’m not sure I can, yet, answer that question but what I can say is I believe that this anonymity in worship is what many unchurched people would be happy with rather than being thrust into a gathering where everybody knows everyone else and you are clearly the ‘stranger’; where in the worship you feel judged and on display. Where you are so busy worrying that you do and say the right thing that you don’t have the chance to experience something transcendent.

Cathedral worship allows you to ease into an experience of God whilst, at the same time, being part of a big group of people, all experiencing the same thing as you. Although nothing is said or physical contact made you still feel a huge sense of a united community, sharing the spiritual realm.

It is this truth that seems to be resonating for me at the moment in my last couple of posts. So I pray that as I continue on this placement that God will bring more revelations that will help me to articulate these thoughts!

Sacramental Theatre (part II)


I had a lecture today on the covenant theme in Exodus and we looked, as background, at the covenants made between God and Abraham. If we look in the Old Testament we discover there are two types of covenant between man and God; unilateral and bilateral. A unilateral covenant is an agreement between two parties, but only one of the two parties has to do something. Nothing is required of the other party. A bilateral covenant is an agreement that is binding on both parties for its fulfillment. Both parties agree to fulfill certain conditions. If either party fails to meet their responsibilities, the covenant is broken and neither party has to fulfill the expectations of the covenant.

I was reminded of a lecture last week where the question of ordination was discussed and its similarities with baptism and the Eucharist. (see ‘Sacramental Theatre (part I)‘ post)Is baptism and ordination bilateral or unilateral covenants.

Due to the promises made at both covenant services they are clearly bilateral covenants. This means, therefore, that if one party does not fulfill the expectation then the covenant is broken. This is, however, not in the understanding of these sacraments; there is the understanding within the church that once you’ve been baptised or ordained then you can’t be undone. ‘What God has done cannot be undone.’ So has our language for this covenant relationship changed? Or have we misunderstood the nature of the covenant we are signing up for?

Let’s suggest, for a moment, that baptism is actually unilateral then it is a free gift of God’s grace given with nothing expected of us. This fits with the justification by faith teaching of Luther and other reformation thinkers, it also helps to argue in favour of infant baptism and for the continual mercy of God on His people who cannot keep their side of the covenant. This does, however, beg the question what are with the promises made at baptism? It is understood that baptism is based on the circumcision covenant of Genesis 17 rather than the original Abrahamic covenant of Genesis 15 and the sign of baptism is the like the sign of circumcision. In many scholarly circles the circumcision covenant of Abraham and the Jewish people is a bilateral covenant. If were to suppose, however, that it is an extension of the original Abrahamic covenant then the sign or ‘seal’ of this covenant is nothing to do with the actual contractual covenant. Baptism and Ordination, therefore can be unilateral and they are merely a sign of acceptance. God makes promises to do something and is not reliant on us to fulfill anything in order for that covenant to be made. So what of the promises made? What of the response to this grace? We see the mixing of two types of covenant.

The similarity between these covenants and marriage is, again, helpful. It can be bilateral nature and yet be unilateral in practice. As humans we can make promises and intend to fulfill them but we don’t have the strength to change ourselves. Israel learnt that in the wilderness. God, however, in His great mercy never broke off the agreement. He sent Jesus to be a saving clause.

Mike Pilavachi uses a helpful illustration. He says God started the relationship with His people with a marriage contract but through His Son He gave them a final will and testament and all we have to do to recieve the gift is to turn up and collect.

My strange fascination with covenants started by trying to understand sacraments in the theatre church setting. Can this work and what does it look like?

The Eucharist marks a change in the covenant understanding of the church and beautiful illustrates the change from bilateral covenant to unilateral while keeping the need for a reponse on the other party (us). God gives His son freely to all and, therefore, all are welcome to take part but it requires people to ‘turn up and collect’. There needs to be intent.

What does this understanding mean in terms of open and closed table policy?

To do Eucharist in this theatre community would need to involve the whole community and not be selective. All would be welcome to partake of the meal. There would need to be intent in the hearts of the participants and they would need to be aware of what was going on. There would need to have an understanding of what they are recieving and what responding to it means. It is not just a corporate meal; it’s an individual meeting of Christ for Him to give His gift to you.

It would fit nicely into a space where we tell stories of God’s grace and ‘claim innocence and worship God’ and I have heard many stories of how people entered the Eucharist for the corporate and were deeply impacted with the personal. To introduce a meal surrounded by the story of God’s grace and love and to invite the group to enter into this story; to share a meal with each other in peace and community is not alien to the imagination of the theatre community. The impact and awareness of the personal involvement in the story must come only from God. What’s the intent in the Eucharist? To recieve the gift of Christ’s sacrifice and to hold it inside of yourself. Have we, therefore, lost the corporate response to the sacrifice for all and it was done for everyone whether you know it or acknowledge or not? How do we explain the power of the Eucharist on a personal level without giving people experience of it?

I finish on some reflections on the power of experience. While in the prison, over the weekend (see ‘Any Given Theatre (part V)‘ and ‘Wrestling With Truth (part III)‘ posts), I found myself saying to a prisoner, “We can talk and describe and use imagery. We can wreslte with these ideas until the cows come home but at the end of it all we need to do is experience it and we get a glimpse of something unspeakable. We struggle to communicate our faith because words fail.”

Claim innocence and worship God.

This is not a get out clause. We are invited to wrestle with it but we are wrestling because God wants to embrace us. He’s always got something up His sleeve which will remind us whose boss!

To share Eucharist in this theatre church would be a corporate involvement in a story; playing a part but we pray that in that moment God will reveal Himself and the personal connection will be made and the Eucharist maybe used as the key to unlock the life changing power and grace of God.

Or not…

Sacramental Theatre (part I)


In my lecture today on Ordination we were discussing whether ordination was an ontological change or a functional change. I want to reflect briefly on what stood out, for me, as an important point and then move onto something slightly related about ministry in a theatre setting.

We were discussing the nature of ontological change and what the church meant by it. We were given a short introduction on Platonic and Aquinas thought on ‘substance’ and ‘accident’. My lay-man’s understanding of it is this: Everything has an accident and a substance. Take, for example, bread and wine. It’s accident is bread and wine as it looks like bread and wine, it smells like bread and wine, etc. It’s substance is also bread and wine. During the Eucharistic prayer, however, the Catholic church believe that the substance changes into the body and blood of Christ. It’s accident is still bread and wine but it’s inner substance is body and blood; hence why it’s called ‘trans substantiation’ The same could be said about a person in baptism and in ordination. That we still look the same (our accident is the same) but our substance is changed.

Confused?

I was.

Then a colleague offered the following thought. In baptism, our status before God doesn’t change, we are still loved fully and accepted by Him but we have gained responsibility. In baptism and, in the same way, ordination, we enter into a covenant with God. We make vows to do certain things. Baptism and ordination then become functional but also involve a different relationship with God. It makes baptism and ordination a big deal and something that shouldn’t be entered into lightly. The language being used reminded me of marriage. We are married when we make vows and sign a contract. As a husband I don’t always fulfil those vows and sometimes I do the opposite, that doesn’t stop me from being married. I am married because I’ve made the vows not because I fulfil them.

I hope some of that makes sense. I’m not sure I completely understand it yet. This is, however, not what I wanted to write about.

During the lecture the idea of sacraments kept coming up. Having grown up a Roman Catholic sacraments become an interesting topic as to what constitutes a sacrament and why. The understanding that to be ordained is to take on responsibility for ministering sacraments put into my mind the question; How could the theatre do sacraments.

I’ll start by defining what I understand as the sacraments. As an Anglican I would say, Baptism and Eucharist are sacraments. I’m slightly flexible, at the moment, on my personal opinion and I can see why matrimony, holy orders and others could be seen as sacraments, particularly if we use Augustine of Hippo’s definition

‘a visible sign of an invisible reality.’

Let’s not get bogged down in semantics right now!

Article 19 of the Articles of Faith says this:

‘The visible church of Christ is a congregation of believers in which the pure Word of God is preached and in which the sacraments are rightly administered according to Christ’s command in all those matters that are necessary for proper administration.’

If I am to explore how theatre can do church then the theatre community are going to have to engage with administering sacraments. Baptism is not, as yet, an issue for this hypothetical community. Eucharist, however, is. How often would Holy Communion need to be done? What needs to be said? How, in a workshop or rehearsal space, could this sacrament be given due reverence and holiness? (see ‘Sacred Space‘ post.) Could Holy Communion be a meal with some prayer said at the beginning? What counts as Eucharist and what is a meal with a community? What would this sacrament look like within the theatre context? Is there already some sacramental element in the theatre?

To answer one of the many questions, I’ve been thinking about the idea of the meal. The theatre community loves meals. We love sharing good food and wine, we love to chat over meals. This is not an alien concept to understand that meals are holy moments. The Communion liturgy is also about remembering a story. The presider tells the story and frames the moment by it. This would not feel out of place in a workshop setting. It just forces me into the understanding that if I am to think of this exploration as building a Fresh Expression of church then there needs to be an intent on all those present that this is an expression of faith.

During the lecture today the word intent was used. The church gathers with the intent to ordain someone. The Bishop comes with the intent to ordain someone. You’d hope, that the candidate comes with the intent to be ordained. Is this the same with worship and the sacraments? You come, with the intent to worship God. You come with the intent to share in the death and resurrection of Christ. I think there is an essential need to have intent. The theatre community needs to know that the service has the intent to administer the sacraments.

So one question still remains for me; how often is enough?