The magnificent Book of Common Prayer has been going strong for 350 years.
Last year, this column and the world celebrated the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible. This year brings the 350th birthday of another magnificent monument of early modern English—the 1662 Book of Common Prayer (BCP). All who savor the riches of our common linguistic heritage should rejoice in its commemoration. For the BCP's combination of spiritual wisdom and literary beauty gives it a following far beyond the ecclesiastical frontiers of Anglicanism, Episcopalianism, and the Church of England that originally commissioned it.The BCP was the creation of Thomas Cranmer, a Tudor statesman blessed with a genius for the writing of prose bordering on poetry. A court favorite of King Henry VIII, who made him Archbishop of Canterbury, Cranmer compiled the various prayers, collects, and orders of worship that eventually emerged as the 1662 prayer book. However, before it could be published in its final form its principal author was burned at the stake for his Reformist sympathies during a period of Catholic repression.
Although these power struggles have long since been forgotten, Cranmer's majestic command of the English language lives on. In the words of his leading biographer, Diarmaid MacCulloch: "Millions who have never heard of Cranmer or of the muddled heroism of his death have echoes of his words in their minds."
These echoes of Cranmer's gift for language ring down the centuries because he had a perfect ear for cadences that are both beautiful and eternal. He wanted "a mere ploughboy" to be able to remember the BCP's most powerful phrases. He did not hesitate to borrow from the finest spiritual writers of his time such as Miles Coverdale, an early translator of the Psalms, and Archbishop Reynolds, who authored the prayer of General Thanksgiving. Yet the most sparkling gems of the BCP were Cranmer's own compositions such as:
We have erred and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done. And we have done those things which we ought not to have done. And there is no health in us. (General Confession)Or:
Lighten our darkness we beseech thee O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night. (Collect for Evening Prayer)In my own love of the rhythms and resonance of such prayers I am conscious that I may be one of a dwindling band of English old fogeys. My familiarity with Cranmer's language dates back to the 1950s, when hardly any form of liturgy other than the BCP was used in Britain's schools and churches—as had been the case for the previous 300 years. But in the last half-century, evangelicals and modernists have elbowed out the BCP, replacing it with liturgical practices whose flexibility is all too often equaled by its banality.
American worshippers of various denominations may find the arguments for and against the BCP to be an esoteric British debate between the cult of quaintness and the pressures of political correctness. Yet excellence is excellence whatever the current fashion, and Cranmer's words, like Shakespeare's, have survived because they are "not of an age, but for all time.
For more, see:
http://spectator.org/archives/2012/02/20/common-prayer-uncommon-beauty
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