Gottesblog

To those who had not attended the assembly; on the apostolic saying, “If thy enemy hunger feed him,” and concerning resentment of injuries. From Bishop John Chrysostom, Constantinople, 4th century.

Standing in front of the used religious book section in the Value Village thrift store in a town near my home in Canada, I was amazed (although perhaps should not have been) at how many books there were on prayer amongst the discarded volumes on various forms of spirituality. They were, for the most part, of the typical evangelical variety directing their readers to the life-changing power of truly personal and heartfelt prayer. Some touched on the power of communal prayer. Others, like the Prayer of Jabez volumes, promised a surefire way to guaranteed worldly happiness and success if you followed their tenets.

The Te Deum is old. It is an old, old hymn. Although the two traditional guesses at authorship — St. Ambrose and St. Augustine—are apparently not well-founded, the hymn is almost as old as their day. Mid-fifth century, the scholars tell us. For forty generations and more, if forty years be a generation, the church has been singing, most often in the morning, this song of praise in its various renderings, and under its various musical settings. It is an old, old song.

When it comes to the Holy Liturgy of the Church, the Our Father has pride of place. It has its station in the daily offices, a prominent position in the Lord's Day Mass, and it appears in most of the auxiliary services. This claim cannot be made for any other sacred text, not even the ecumenical creeds. The Lord's Prayer simply fits. Its absence leaves a gaping hole. This is no truer than when it comes to the Liturgy of the Faithful, the Holy Communion.