The Great Vigil, Sin and Grace

Texts: The Great Vigil (Book of Common Prayer p. 148); Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7; Romans 5:12-19

We started the service today in a very strange way. We marched in procession chanting the Great Litany. This is one piece of our prayer book that hasn’t been updated recently. There is no option for the Great Litany in contemporary language within our denomination. 

This litany goes back to the beginning of the Anglican Church. King Henry the Eighth decided to take control of the Church of England and remove the pope as the ecclesial authority in England after the pope refused to grant him a divorce. Now this wasn’t just about a divorce, though the divorce did initiate the separation of England from Rome. The Church in England was already distinct from the Church in Rome in their style of worship. When the Roman Church came to England they found Celtic Christians worshiping on the isles. We don’t know how early Christianity spread to England, but it was there before the Roman missionaries. 

In the midst of this separation, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, was tasked to help build up this new denomination, the Church of England. One of the core beliefs that built the book of common prayer is that common prayer should be said in the common language. He set about translating Latin rites into English and building a church that they hoped both protestants and Catholics could find a place within. The very first English Language rite that Thomas Cranmer translated and modified from other sources was The Great Litany in 1544. We use traditional language and try to stay as close to the original words as we can to honor Thomas Cranmer and the work that he accomplished.

WIthin this litany, we have the core of what common prayer is about. While our denomination comes out of very political roots and traces itself back to a king no one can say was particularly righteous, the very first thing the new head of what would eventually become the Anglican communion wanted to do was to bring all the burdens of the peoples, all that weighed on their hearts, to God. In the midst of strife, in the midst of the struggles of life, we are taught to cry out to God, “We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord.” 

It is the practice of this congregation to chant the Great Litany annually on the first Sunday of Lent every year, a marker that the season has indeed changed, that something new is happening, and we are to give everything over to God in prayer and reverence. An intentional time of deep listening to God and growing in our trust of God’s mercy has begun. 

One year when I was a seminary intern at a parish we chanted the Great Litany every Sunday of Lent. At first I balked. It’s long. It’s strange. It’s not particularly inviting to guests. But the priest had a good reason for doing it. He told me that if it’s just an annual thing, it can be seen as just this odd thing that you do. If it’s used by the community for a while, it begins to be incorporated into their lives. Now I still don’t like to say the whole thing in corporate worship more than once a year,  but when I created a few liturgies for Breaking Bread, an experiment of worship and radical hospitality meeting in unconventional places like breweries and parks in 2016, I found myself returning to the Great Litany, pulling out pieces of it and modernizing the language to help shape our prayers. What my priest mentor in seminary said was true. The litany began to live within, it wasn’t just that odd duck plopped in the middle of the prayer book. I invite you to spend time with the litany as well throughout this season, maybe taking pieces at a time to help inform your prayer life. It is worth more than a yearly glance. It has its own section in the prayer book, starting on page 148. 

This litany helps us share our fears and hopes with God as well as share the nature of our sins with God. Our readings this morning also help us consider sin and grace.

Now I don’t know about you, but when I first read the passage from Romans today, I was left a bit confused. It reads like a poorly written theology textbook. Because one man sinned, we all were distant from God but because one man was righteous, we all are redeemed. It seems like a cruel thing, blaming all of humanity for the actions of Adam. One bite of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and bam, the whole relationship between humanity and God gets messed up. 

But is that really what the story of Adam and Eve is about? First of all, I think we focus too much on the tree. Yes, the serpent tricked Eve and Adam, who was standing by her side throughout the entire conversation, into eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. But what happened immediately after they had received that knowledge? They hid from God. They tried to keep their actions out of the sight of the one who had formed them out of the dirt and knew every hair on their head. They realized how vulnerable they were as creatures, how exposed they were to all sorts of danger. Rather than reaching out to God for help and protection, they sewed fig leaves together and hid. When confronted, they shifted blame. They did not take responsibility. 

So what did God do? God gave them responsibilities. God taught them that actions have consequences. God told them that they would have to take care of themselves in ways they had not done before. God parented them, bringing them out of childhood and into adulthood. When they left the nest, leaving behind the Garden of Eden, God did not leave them empty handed. God made them good leather clothing and dressed them. God put them in fertile land. God gave them the opportunity to succeed in their new ventures. 

But that pattern of not taking responsibility, of not going to God when there are problems, of shifting blame when things are exposed about ourselves that isn’t flattering, that pattern has been etched into the human experience. We all have times when we have done those things. 

The law was given to help humans live together in better ways, to be responsible and live in Godly ways. The law works if you work it, but rather than it being a way of building relationships with God, each other, and all creation, of taking responsibility for ourselves, some people turned it around into hardcore rules. They started to be used in a way to make people feel ashamed about being human. The law itself was never the problem. The way the law was used to beat others up was the problem. 

Jesus came to help turn things back around. The law, the prophets, all that God had shared with us to help us be the best humans we can be, were fulfilled in the actions of the Son of God. God was done with humans shifting the blame and avoiding coming to their Creator with their problems. God showed us what a relationship with God is supposed to be like. Jesus came to people who had nothing and what did he do? He gave them new life. He spoke the truth in love. He was powerful, but approachable. He was not someone to be feared. He was someone who was willing to go to the grave for the sake of others. 

So while through Adam humanity learned their vulnerability in the face of Almighty God, through Jesus humanity was shown the deep love and compassion that will never let us go. We don’t need to be afraid to bring absolutely everything before the one who created us because he has promised to redeem us. Our sins, our faults, our weaknesses are healed and forgiven in the face of the one who wants nothing more than for us to live in good, responsible relationship with God, our neighbors, creation, and ourselves. God doesn’t blame us for our faults. God wants to help us do better when we fail. This is grace. This is mercy. This is love. 

So let us bring everything before God this Lenten season. God knows what’s happening anyway. Let us open ourselves up to the one who made each hair of our head, who is the one who can lead us through all the trials and tribulations of this life. Let us come before God with humility stating simply, “We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord.” Amen.