Sunday's journey

Sometimes I think the National Cathedral is trying to be high church Methodist. Then I realize the high church Methodists have a better sense of liturgy. These days at the cathedral, they sing a "song of praise" instead of the Gloria; they don't seem to believe in the Kyrie or the Agnus Dei at all. Everything is experimental liturgy and unfamiliar new hymns. None of my Episcopalian friends who come to town to visit can even recognize the liturgy as Anglican—often, they've asked me about it afterwards to confirm that it really is an Episcopal cathedral.

I've come to the conclusion, though, that they've finally gone off the deep end this fall and gotten all huggy-kissy-liberal. Not only have they hung all these bizarre, modern, pastel banners on the pillars in the nave (see the blue and green one on the pillar on the far right in the picture above—that was one of the best and prettiest ones), they've gotten so hippie-liberal they are now advertising a communion station featuring the Body of Christ in the form of gluten-free wafers.

Nevertheless, yesterday was Connecticut Day at the National Cathedral, so Laurent and I went up there to celebrate his home state. There was a big crowd there, so we ended up having to sit in the North Transept, giving us a side view of the crossing altar and pulpit.

The Connecticut people sent a bunch of banners and acolytes to the cathedral for the processions. They also sent their bishopess suffragan, who was the principal celebrant for the Mass. She seemed nice, and Laurent met her after the service.

The Cathedral Choir of Men and Girls sang the service. They started with Healy Willan's "Rise up, my love" as an introit sung a capella from the narthex. They did Ned Rorem's "All glorious God" for an offertory anthem, and I do believe that's the most melodic composition of Rorem's I've ever heard. It was a quiet, almost sweet, piece. The communion motet was a lovely "Cantique de Jean Racine" by Gabriel Fauré, one of my favorites.

Hymns were Abbot's Leigh (God, creator, source of healing) for the processional, Ellers (How like a gentle spirit deep within) for the sequence, Lucerna Laudoniae (God of mercy, God of grace) during post-communion ablutions, and Lobe den Herren (Praise to the Lord, the Almighty) for the recessional. In addition, instead of the Gloria, they sang a congregational hymn text to Lasst uns erfreuen as a "Song of Praise" and they did a text to The Eighth Tune ("Tallis Canon") as some sort of offertory presentation acclamation (where we used to sing the Doxology, before the liturgical reformers told us that was old fashioned and that we should go straight from the offertory to the Sursum corda). There really wasn't a Mass setting. They did the Sanctus from the Proulx A Community Mass and a "Christ our Passover" setting with which I was not familiar (but it sounded like a pretty little setting) and the identity of which is a mystery, since it isn't listed in the copyright notices in the bulletin.

Allein Gott in der Höh sei Herr, BWV 676, by J.S. Bach served as the organ prelude and the postlude was Bach's Praeludium pro Organ pleno, BWV 552.

Liturgically, they only did an Epistle and a Gospel reading (no Old Testament reading), and the prayers of consecration were not from any of the authorized alternatives in the Book of Common Prayer. They did Rite 2 language for everything, and several prayers (such as the Confession) were non-standard; they also changed the "It is right to give Him thanks and praise" to the inclusive language version. The cathedral dean preached a long sermon on reconciliation and forgiveness. Nothing was chanted, so it was almost a low Mass. The congregation also has to stand for everything, since the kneeling cushions were not put on at the chairs.

On the positive side, they've gotten rid of the Zoroastrian fire pots on the altar and replaced them with proper brass candlesticks. They've also put the choir back in the chancel, instead of in chairs behind the crossing porta-altar, but they still are putting chairs in the middle of the aisle for the choristers to sit. It's progress, though. Some day, I hope to get priests and liturgists there the choir can be proud of.

We didn't do much sight-seeing afterwards. Laurent was hungry, and wanted to eat post-haste, so we left in quest of a neighborhood restaurant.