Convocation of Episcopal Churches in Europe
It is a surprise to many people — maybe more people than I wish it were — to learn that the Episcopal Church is present in Europe. In eight countries, in fact, and covering a geographic space the equivalent of the distance from Boston to Phoenix.
But more impressive than the size of our space is the range and diversity of the cultures that make up the congregations of the Convocation of Episcopal Churches in Europe. This means, of course, the cultures of the places in which we exist — France, Germany, Italy, Belgium, Switzerland, The Netherlands, Austria, and Georgia (the other one) — but it also means the international diversity of most of our congregations.
When you think of it that way, it’s not too surprising that there are a variety of ideas here about the adornments of the Eucharist and the paraments of the church. Many of our congregations here worship in churches owned by other traditions, and in which we are, effectively, tenants; our liturgical practice necessarily becomes shaped by the spaces in which we worship.
That can mean celebrating the Eucharist with a large bible on the altar — a standard feature of Lutheran churches in some parts of Germany; it can mean finding a crucifix placed carefully on the altar in a place facing the celebrant. It can mean gathering around God’s table in a brick-vaulted basement space in Tbilisi or gathering around a folding table in an upper room in Mons, Belgium.
I would have said when I arrived here five years ago that I had a fair degree of familiarity with the variety of liturgical practices in the Episcopal Church; I’ve worshipped in a wide range of our churches throughout my life. But I now know that I was a little overconfident on that score. Our church is bigger — and wider — than most of us ever get to know; and it is God’s gift to us that so many people from so many cultures find their spiritual home within the embrace of our worship.
Yet even in the midst of all that diversity, there are some things that remain constant — fixed stars in our liturgical universe. They are the things my mother taught me — a teacher all her life, who also served on the altar guild of our church. Corporal, purificator, chalice, paten — with just those four things, you can make a worthy celebration.
Working in this profoundly ecumenical environment, alongside Catholic, Lutheran, Reform, Old Catholic, even other Anglican partners here — what I see is how widespread, how uniting, are these simple things gracing every eucharistic table. The rest — while it can be very beautiful, add to the majesty of the celebration, and express the history and culture of the place in which the community gathers — is in some sense simply an adornment to these essentials. They are the recognizable, universally shared foundation of the meal we all share, in our different traditions.
Whenever the privilege falls to me to clear the table at the end of the Eucharist, I always finish by folding the corporal back into its neat square and praying over it for a moment before handing it back to the attending ministers. I do this to remember in prayer all those who prepare the tables all throughout the church, who take care — in the fullest sense of those words — so that the rest of us can take part in the memorial of Christ’s sacrifice. It takes but a moment, but it connects me to those who still dare to imagine that some things, at least, must be done with prayerful dignity and reverent care. More of that in the world would be a blessed thing indeed.
The Right Reverend Mark D. W. Edington, Bishop in Charge, The Cathedral Church of the Holy Trinity, Paris, France