Answering Unasked Questions

A recent conversation on a Continuing Anglican social media group concerned, among other things, the use of altar flowers during Pre-Lent (or the ‘Gesimas’ or Shrovetide, as you please).  The question drew much interest with answers including judgements that such flower use is Bad or Good or Somewhere Between.  ‘Between’ included the idea of greenery only, as a transition towards a flowerless Lent.  One laywoman suggested, tongue firmly in cheek I’m sure, the use of cacti as a semi-penitential altar decoration.

At first glance the whole conversation reminded me of Archbishop Cahoon’s comment that many in the Church spend a great deal of time answering questions that nobody is asking.  By that Cahoon meant that our internal preoccupations often are far removed from the concerns of the world around us or even are entirely opaque to that world.  It is as if Hindus were to spend time debating what shade of blue to use in their depiction of deities in their sacred art.  (For all I know there actually is such a debate, but I think I made this one up.)  The question of the proper shade of blue might have some meaning internal to the imaginative and artistic worlds of India, and therefore be of importance to hundreds of millions of people.  But for the rest of the world the question neglects seemingly more important matters.  (One of those more important matters:  Why blue deities at all?)

Archbishop Cahoon himself tried to correct the tendency in himself by producing a column for this newspaper on popular culture – movie reviews, mainly. The movies Cahoon watched and wrote about revealed the kinds of subjects that interest at least some large segments of contemporary society.  His reviews took a Christian view of the secular world’s attitudes towards many things Christians should and do talk about:  for example, What happens when we die?  or, Is there meaning in our world?  That approach seems more useful, at least as a mission strategy, than Christians spending time discussing their own attitude towards things internal to ourselves.  At least if we want to evangelize the world we have to engage its interests and not have conversations that concern interests that only engage people who are already Christian.

About the social medium conversation and flowers in Pre-Lent, I did have a couple of conclusions.  First, it seemed to me that almost everybody involved had an opinion.  We often do find our internal conversations deeply important and engaging, even if in our heart of hearts we know they are not of primary significance.  Flowers in Pre-Lent is the sort of thing Anglicans care about.  Secondly, then, while recognizing that Continuing Anglicans at least are interested in such things, we also should recognize the intrinsically secondary (or tertiary) nature of such issues.  As one of my diocesan priests put it, wise clergy do not choose to die on tiny hills. 

When such an issue is brought up, it often is best to try to turn it towards more intrinsically important matters.  My own opinion was that:  1. flowers in Pre-Lent are fine;  but that, 2. the issue should lead to more important subjects. 

One such subject that I mentioned is that the three Sundays of Pre-Lent are the first in a series of groups of three that run all the way to Trinity Sunday.  The three Gesimas give way to the first three Sundays of Lent, whose gospels all concern the demonic and its purging.  The second three Sundays in Lent move us to Holy Week.  The first three Sundays in Eastertide show the gradual unfolding of recognition of the Resurrection, which culminates in the proclamation of Jesus as the Good Shepherd.  The second group of three Sundays in Eastertide turn towards Pentecost.  Then with a little manipulation we find that Rogation Sunday (Easter V), Ascension Sunday, and Pentecost each emphasizes one Person of the Trinity (the Father who answers prayer; the ascended Son who intercedes for us; the Holy Spirit who unites us to the Father and Son).  The whole grand movement, then, is capped and fulfilled with the revelation of the Trinity that is the hinge between the two parts of the Church year.  All of that may be of some use to consider, though it strays rather far from the flower question.

Another important subject, suggested at least by that original flower question, is the idea, embedded in our existing Church calendar and its lectionary, that transitions are important.  The seasons of Christmas and Epiphany are filled with light, extraordinary joy, and luminous events.  To move suddenly from those splendors into the somberness of Lent would be too abrupt.  The Church calendar – the greatest teaching tool ever invented – wisely provides a transition.  Pre-Lent is part of that transition. Flowers are not a vital matter.  Whether or not we learn from the wisdom embedded, often unnoticed, in the Church calendar and lectionary and in liturgical customs, is much more important.  Flowers – and indeed almost anything else in the Church’s outward order of things – may become a means by which the deeper truths are taught and, one hopes, learned.