Assumption Day festival

And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars.

—Revelations 12:1

We had a splendid solemn high Mass last night in commemoration of the Feast of St. Mary the Virgin, also known as the Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, at St. Paul's K Street, followed by a reception in the parish hall.

The rector served as celebrant with a special guest, the Rev'd Anthony Noble, rector of All Saints' in San Diego, as preacher.

The Assumption is a feast in honor of Mary, mother of Jesus. Whilst high church protestants are happy to observe the day as merely another saint's day, "those who are less timid" (to quote the rector) join in the Roman Catholic celebration of the day as the commemoration of the assumption of Mary, meaning that instead of dying, Mary was "assumed body and soul directly into heavenly glory." This doctrine has been a part of the Church since the earliest centuries of Christianity, and was a major subject of art especially during the Renaissance. In the Orthodox tradition, the feast is known as the Dormition of the Theotokos (the falling asleep of the Mother of God). Many Protestants, however, reject the doctrine (as they do most tradition of the early Church) because it is not, in their minds, literally spelled out in the New Testament.

In fact, it was to his concept that Fr. Noble said in his sermon that many "Protestants find the Assumption to be an assumption." He pointed out, though, that unlike the other saints, there is no tomb for Mary and there were no relics—a surprising thing, given how important Mary was in giving birth to the source of an entire religion. Perhaps, he submitted, what Protestants believe is that "Mary went to another planet and married Ron Hubbard and had children who populated Queens." Where is Tom Cruise when we need him?

The Mass setting was Missa Sanctae Crucis, Op. 151 by Josef Rheinberger, sung a capella by the choir. Rheinberger continues to be unusually popular in the D.C. and East Coast areas, and I really don't know why. They did an Anglican chant by Edgar F. Day (1891—1983) for the psalm. Anyway, I didn't recognize the organist/choirmaster last night, so I guess the parish's organist and assistant are both on vacation. I was thinking the choir was sounding unusually ragged last night and that the female cantor who was intoning the Sentences was dreadfully flat (not to mention the sub-deacon chanting the second lesson, who was dreadfully sharp), but perhaps my ear was off, since I heard the pitchpipe a couple of times and thought it sounded flat, too. Mass setting and psalm aside, the choir did the ever-popular these days Robert Parsons (c. 1528—1572) "Ave Maria" at the offertory, and I thought it sounded quite lovely.

The hymns were unusual. In fact, the only "real" Episcopal hymn they sang was Parry's Rustington ("Sing we of the blessed Mother") for the sequence. The processional was Salve Regina ("Hail holy Queen enthroned above"), a Catholic hymn which will be forever associated in my mind with the Whoopi Goldberg movie Sister Act. During post-communion ablutions, they did Pleading Savior to a set of words ("Sing of Mary, pure and lowly") I found as an alternative in the 1940 hymnal which are in the 1982 book to the tune Raquel, but in either case with two supplemental verses. The recessional hymn was one I didn't know at all, Daily, Daily ("Ye who own the faith of Jesus"), and which I couldn't find in any of my Episcopal or Methodist hymnals. It has a marching, syncopated rhythm I associate with a lot of the Victorian congregationalist gospel hymns. I did finally locate the hymn this morning in a private hymnal from the Diocese of Chicago called Cantate Domino, published in 1979.

There was an interesting insert in the service bulletin, a "notice of special parish meeting," where they are planning next month to amend their parish by-laws. That sort of thing is unremarkable in and of itself, but I actually read the text of what they were changing. In their existing by-laws, in order for a parishioner to be a "qualified voter" at parish meetings, they have to have paid their annual financial pledge to the church in full during the preceding calendar year and have a current pledge in the current year. The amendment was allowing them to accept as qualified voters those who had "made at least a partial payment" on the preceding year's pledge. Nevertheless, I found the financial requirement for voting in this parish interesting.

The members of the parish were unusually friendly last night. After the service, I stepped outside and away from the doors to check my cell phone and make a call, and one woman seemed quite alarmed that I might not be going to the reception in the parish hall. Once I got up to the reception, I actually had five people spontaneously come up and talk to me (which is more than the total number of people who've talked to me in the nearly two years I've attended this church!), three of whom introduced me to other people. I do believe that Hell must have frozen over.

Oh, and I was absolutely shocked to see at least fourteen men in church who weren't wearing a jacket and tie!

Here's a question for you ladies who are fashion experts. While I love the tradition of ladies wearing hats and gloves to church, I've always made a distinction between the big brimmed and often floppy "day hats" and the tiny, elegant, brimless "evening hats." I saw a couple of "day hats" last night at Mass and initially was appalled; then, I considered the fact that it was still daylight out. So, if a lady attends a service starting at 6:30 p.m. and ending at 8:00 p.m. during the summertime when it is still daylight at 8:00 p.m., what is the proper millinery etiquette?