Somewhere in a secret drawer in his office, or in a carefully encrypted file on his computer, the Verger has possession of a very important document. Subject to on-going interpretation and revision, it not only preserves the memory of the parish in particular ways, it also guides our daily activity. Many hands have composed it over many years, and I have never actually seen the entire thing in one place at the same time. The document is something we call The Customary. A “customary” is a written account of the ways the liturgies are usually (or customarily) carried out in a given parish.
Customaries are distinct from rubrics. Rubrics are the instructions, printed in italics in the Book of Common Prayer these days, but once upon a time printed in red ink, whence comes the term “rubric,” which derives from a Latin word for “red.” Rubrics are instructions that are understood to be required. The rubrics state, for instance, that at the Mass, a priest is to hold or lay a hand upon the Bread while she recites Jesus’ words, “This is my Body.” Likewise, the priest is to hold or lay a hand upon the chalice when saying “This is my Blood.” But about genuflecting, ringing bells, swinging thuribles, vestments of different colors, kissing altars, or making the sign of the Cross, the Prayer Book has little if any mention. These actions are all matters of the Customary - details about how a given community of faith puts into practice the liturgical actions over which they have discretion. These actions, ornaments, and expressions of faith are not required by the church at large, but they are customary within a given community.
One of the distinctive aspects of the customary here at Saint Mark’s, for instance, is that at the High Mass the Sacred Ministers face east for the liturgy of the Word, but go around to the other side of the Altar to face the people throughout the prayer of consecration. It’s an uncommon practice in most of the rest of the church, but it’s entirely customary here.
Over the past several months we have spent a lot of time at Saint Mark’s trying to produce something like a customary that keeps people mostly out of church, and forces you to keep your distance while you are here. Working on the details of these protocols has been one of the least edifying exercises I have engaged in in 24 years of priesthood. And, frankly, I have resented it.
The protocols for this Yellow Phase of the pandemic in Philadelphia limit to 25 the number of people who may attend any liturgy in this building, which can hold nearly 400. The vast majority of the pews have been roped off to keep anyone from sitting in them; to ensure you keep your distance. And of course, we have to repeat the instructions to discourage you from singing, although we are allowed to encourage you to hum behind your masks…. if you can call any such statement a word of encouragement. This one has been especially hard, since it is customary here at Saint Mark’s to sing, when we can. Why, the Ministry Residents and I have even taken to singing our grace before dinner every night. It’s just port of the custom here. So when we tell you to hum, but do not sing, it goes against the grain.
There ought to be an order of nuns whose sole vocation is to run around with rulers slapping the knuckles of those who tie ropes around pews to keep people from sitting in them, or who devise ways not to open the front doors of the church, as we have had to do. These nuns could pinch people in all the wrong places if they find anyone humming who could be singing. They could do so with impunity, even righteous indignation.
If you go to our website you can find the entire nine-page document of protocols for our “return to limited public worship.” These protocols have been worked out by the clergy and staff, following parish-wide consultation, with the approval of the bishop and the sanction of the Vestry. They are important because they allow a few of you to be here this morning, and they begin to navigate a path out of our socially distanced isolation. They indicate clearly, I hope, that we are playing by the rules at Saint Mark’s, and that we take this pandemic seriously, and more importantly, that we take the health and safety of each and every one of you seriously.
The protocols will be revised as circumstances change. They could become more restrictive or less restrictive, depending on what happens. They are what they are. But, one thing these protocols must never become is customary. The posture of restriction, distance, and closure that they represent is contrary to the mission of the church, and what they describe is a shut-in church, an inverted church. To invert something is to turn it in the opposite direction. We’d be tempted to to say that it’s to turn something inside-out. But in this case, what it really means is to turn the church outside-in.
My order of nuns - let’s call them the Sisters of the Perpetually Inside-Out Heart of Jesus - could take as their founding warrant the entire 10th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, the end of which we heard today, when we heard Jesus say, “whoever welcomes you welcomes me.” The entire chapter relates Jesus’ missional instructions to the apostles when he sent them out. Jesus’ most fundamental instructions to those first followers was that they were to turn their insides out: to share with the world the Good News of what he was doing in their lives and among their small community. This Good News would never have spread if the apostles customarily turned their lives outside-in. The church could only grow if its members lived inside-out lives, that shed the light of Christ in dark corners of the world.
Every young novice sister of the Order of the Perpetually Inside-Out Heart of Jesus should be required to read the 10th chapter of Matthew every day for a year. And then, immediately after each novices’s daily reading she should be given a bowl containing a toothpaste tube the contents of which have been emptied into the bowl. The novice sisters’ task, of course, is to put the toothpaste back into the tube. And the goal of every novice’s training and formation is to ensure that every sister fails at this task, and they eventually give up trying.
“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me,” Jesus told his apostles. But they couldn’t be welcomed unless they first went out. And in sending them, Jesus was assuring them that he himself would be with them on every step of their inside-out lives, and that his mission is was inseparable from theirs. Unless, of course, they turned themselves outside-in.
The church has suffered greatly in the past, no matter what her rules are, whenever she has allowed the things she customarily does to be turned outside-in. An outside-in church obsesses about itself and its few members, and cares little for its neighbors, whom Jesus has called us to love. An outside-in church shrinks and atrophies, forgetting how to use he most important muscles. An outside-in church doesn’t even need to open its doors.
By contrast, an inside-out church is not content merely to open its doors, but carries the Gospel of Jesus with it - each member carrying it in her own marvelous way - to be shared with the world, so that in every word of welcome there is also a word of introduction to the One who turned our lives inside-out in the most beautiful way.
The customary of the Sisters of the Perpetually Inside-Out Heart of Jesus would be greatly challenged by the protocols of the Yellow Phase of the pandemic. It is notoriously difficult to rap someone’s knuckles from a distance of six feet away. Therefore, I have no doubt that their protocols during this awkward time in the life of the church must call for longer rulers.
Like the sisters, we are following our protocols during this time because it’s the only way to even begin to fulfill our mission. But we know that these protocols will never become customary. Jesus continues to call us to live inside-out lives. His daily activity is to send us out, the way he sent out his first apostles, to shares good news, to do his work, and to extend and receive his welcome to all who want it.
The customary posture of the church, and of all he members, whether nuns of a questionable religious order, or members of a parish church in Philadelphia, must always be inside-out: facing the world with the light of Christ that he has planted deep within us, and which he calls us to share wherever, whenever, and however we can.
We will use these protocols as long as we have to. But, I hope our lives will be swayed by the Sisters of the Perpetually Inside-Out Heart of Jesus. For what we are doing right now can never be customary. If it was, we would never be able to bring with us the greeting of Jesus to any who will welcome us when we turn our lives inside-out for the sake of his Good News of abundant life.
Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
28 June 2020
Saint Mark’s Church, Locust Street, Philadelphia
