I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the Lord sustained me. Psalm 3:5

How do you start your day? I’m not talking about the necessary coffee ritual that wakes you up. I’m also not talking about the walk or gym routine that brings you back to your senses. Rather, how do you start your day once you are fully awake, ready to give yourself to the days’ tasks?

Your habits when you are at peak alertness reflect your deepest desires—what you long for most deserves your attention and energy. This desire guides your actions throughout the day. Just as a rock rolls down a mountain under the force of gravity, your desires energize your habits, wishes, and wants

So, what if starting the day with prayer trains your heart to long for God? 

In the Psalms, we read that the psalmists offer praise to God upon waking. Coming to their senses, they recognize that God sustained them through the night. This “prayer book of the Bible” records how the psalmists remain alert to their dependence on God and their desire to thank Him.

In our Anglican tradition, our first hour of prayer is called Morning Prayer. Traditionally prayed between 6:00 a.m. and 9:00 a.m., this office trains our hearts to find the fulfillment of our deepest longings in God. As a community, we use confession, Scripture, tradition, and silence as our training ground. 

Morning Prayer is the Anglican training plan to reorient your desires. So, finding ourselves each morning in a time of prayer—whether it be immediately on waking, or when you are attentive to the day at hand—we work to follow the pull of God rather than the gravity of this world. Learning to desire God thus shapes the rest of the day, guiding how you act upon your habits, wills, wishes, and wants.

Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan, and he hears my voice. Psalm 55:17

In the middle of the day I’m normally neck-deep in tasks. By noon, it can be easy to forget the prayers from the morning—life can be so distracting! Unfortunately, it is a slippery slope to then forget that your daily bread is the Word of God, and work can become striving out of your own abilities. At midday, it can be hard to stop what you are doing, especially if you are habituated to a certain structure of your days. 

It is important to stop, pause, and remind yourself of why you are doing what you are doing —especially in the middle of a hectic day.

Midday Prayer is a short Office, taking 3-5 minutes. It has a basic structure shared between the Offices, following closest to Compline, yet simpler than the extended Offices of Morning Prayer or Evening Prayer. You can use this pattern to re-orient your heart towards God’s presence amidst daily chaos. 

The Opening Sentence of Scripture or Invitatory invites you to pray, helping you transition from your work to a posture of prayer. 

The Word is central. We read from the psalms and a passage of Scripture. In response, we observe a period of intentional silence to allow space for God to speak or for personal reflection.

Scripted Prayers disciple you to pray for the whole of life. These prayers break your habits that keep you stuck in one area. The Lord’s prayer is prayed at each Office, as this is how Jesus taught his disciples to pray. We pray “collects” (a short structured prayer addressing God with a specific petition or praise). This section also has time for silence or extemporaneous prayer. It is valuable to bring your day into God’s presence. 

Finally, the Dismissal is a reminder that praying orients us to bless the Lord through our daily work, and we are sent to do so with God’s grace.

O gladsome light,

pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven,

O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed!

Now as we come to the setting of the sun,

and our eyes behold the vesper light,

we sing your praises, O God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

You are worthy at all times to be praised by happy voices,

O Son of God, O Giver of Life,

and to be glorified through all the worlds.

— Phos Hilaron, 2019 Book of Common Prayer p. 44 —

Houston’s skyline is magnificent. Billowing clouds shift and plume above, mesmerizing anyone who pauses to look. Colors paint the sky at sunrise and sunset, while skyscrapers sparkle day and night—reflecting the sun or emanating their own lights.

While not every culture or vocation follows strict office hours, most human life is patterned around changing light—the rising and setting of the sun. The availability of light shapes the cadence of our days: sunrise increases our energy for the day's work, while sunset encourages our nervous system to wind down in preparation for rest.

Evening Prayer marks a tonal shift in our days, similar to the setting of the sun. Traditionally prayed between 6:00 and 9:00 p.m., it bookends our lives alongside Morning Prayer. Both of these Offices offer a robust structure—reading through the Bible in a year and the psalms in a 30- or 60-day cadence. They are vital markers in our discipleship, as God’s word is a lamp to our feet and a light to our path (Psalm 119:105). Changes in physical light resonate with this fundamental reality

Evening Prayer is distinct from Morning Prayer in how it invokes God’s presence. In the morning, you express a desire for God to work throughout the day ahead. In the evening, you reflect on where God has been and how you partnered with Him. As a time for slowing down, Evening Prayer collects the graces of the day and looks toward the night and rest to come.

Particularly, the Phos Hilaron, translated as O Gladsome Light, is one of the oldest Christian hymns sung in the evenings. Evening Prayer stewards this 3rd- or 4th-century hymn as a meditation on the sunset. Praying it once introduces you to its beauty, but habitual repetition each evening will deepen its meaning. I encourage you to pray it in the evenings as you watch the changing light, reflecting on God’s grace throughout your day.

Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked or take the path that sinners tread or sit in the seat of scoffers, but their delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law they meditate day and night. Psalm 1:1-2

For those blessed with the ease of falling asleep, hitting the pillow after an exhausting day brings instant rest. However, if you struggle with an active mind and body, sleep can be a source of dread, marked by hours of restless waiting. 

It is a loss to end the day without a routine that examines the moments that brought you there. While I would not go as far as Socrates to say that "the unexamined life is not worth living," I would argue that examining your days, while mindful of God's presence, contributes to a well-lived life. Death can come suddenly, much like falling asleep, or it can be a long and painful process. Still, we need not dread it. 

Compline offers a template to examine our days, so at the time of death, we can offer back to God the completeness of our life.

Compline comes from a Latin word meaning "complete" and serves as the punctuation mark for each day. It is intended to be prayed just as you fall asleep. Just as we fall asleep each night, we must also be prepared for the possibility of not waking in the morning. By collecting our days with Compline, we practice how to gather our lives at the very end. 

Compline reminds us of the fragility of our lives. In my opinion, it is beautiful that the Scriptures used in this Office are central to an Anglican burial service. Notably, the Nuc Dimittus, or the Song of Simeon, expresses a deep sense of satisfaction. This canticle,  or scriptural song, affirms that you have seen the Lord, which brings peace. Undeniably, each day, and each life, is sustained by the presence of God. Both at the end of our days, and lives, God was there, and we did see Him.

He said therefore, “What is the kingdom of God like? And to what shall I compare it? It is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his garden, and it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches.” Luke 13:18–19 ESV

The Daily Office, while a beautiful gift from the Anglican Tradition, can seem intimidating. In total, it asks for one to two hours of prayer a day. Also, it requires a certain level of attention and presence that can be difficult for many—from the CEO, with demanding employees, to the parent, absorbed by caring for their children, often setting aside their own needs. Sitting down for prayer in these cases can feel like a chore, rather than a much needed pause in the day. 

But, praying (even if for two seconds) is better than nothing at all. 

Prayer can be like the parable of the mustard seed—we need faith to grow in our hearts. While the mustard seed appears small, there is abundant life hiding inside. Tending that small seed, it grows into a tree that provides shelter for many birds and animals. God, who gives life, can turn what is small in human eyes into something beautiful. So, we learn that in prayer, it is the life of faith hidden inside prayer that is the most important. Even if it is a small moment, we faithfully entrust ourselves to the God who gives life to all creation.

So, respecting the busy, chaotic, and distracting world that we live in, the Anglican Tradition has Family Prayer. It was created with families of small children in mind. With limited attention spans, time is of the essence in prayer. Yet, the name does not limit these offices only to families. This is also called “Daily Devotions for Individuals and Families” (from the 1979 prayerbook). Individuals are encouraged to use this so they can pray something, rather than nothing at all.

You can find these prayers in your 2019 Book of Common Prayer between pages 66-78. Also, Anglican House Publishers are releasing an illustrated version of Family Prayer in November. You can pre-order it here.

So, if you are limited by time or attention, do not be intimidated by the gift of the Daily Office. Praying is a time to spend with God. And some days we need to do something, rather than nothing. God, as the subject of prayer, is more important than any time we give or the perceived “effort” on our part.

For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken. Psalm 62: 1-2

"Distracted from distraction by distraction" wisely sums up the human desire to flee from the pain of daily life. This comes from “Burnt Norton,” a poem in T.S. Eliot's masterwork, Four Quartets. While written in 1936, his words still capture the escapism we feel as a result of mundanity. 

Today, we reach for our phones to numb from the bottomless pit called email. We think about the unfinished tasks left at work while speaking with our loved ones around the dinner table. We continue to set goals—a new house, losing five pounds, or a dream vacation—only to be left wanting more.

Eliot’s poetry accents modernity’s drum beat of production and progress. Our endless craving for dopamine hits. Yet our striving is just a hamster wheel. Moving forward, we only find ourselves falling behind.

We’ve tried to fix our attention span. From Ted Talks to New York Times articles, to books, we’re proactive, seeking guidance on how to be focused, present and fully alive in our life and work. But removing distraction and replacing it with another distraction, we have not solved the root of our problem. We long for a sense of real life, where we are fully alive and human, not just optimized for peak performance. 

As Christians, on Sundays, we break this rhythm with worship. We pause our progress, turning our attention to God. We look to Jesus, who teaches us what it means to be a real, fully alive human, with right relationships with God, neighbors, and ourselves. 

So, before we begin our Sunday gathering, Apostles takes a moment to offer the Hospitality of Silence. This is a moment of transition from the chaos of the week or morning. Also, it is also a kindness to God, acknowledging His steadfast presence in our lives. Silence is a deeply Christian way of combatting the human instinct to numb and escape the mundanity of daily life through distraction.

Becoming comfortable with silence, we can become more like the Psalmist—who knows when all else ceases, and the world goes quiet, God is present. In the silence, we find ourselves before God, present to the reality of our lives. Amidst the noise and chaos of modern distractions, silence is a tool that allows us to become rooted, anchored, and grounded in His steadfast love, care, and presence. 

So when we turn back to our daily work, we are more aware of God, who is the heartbeat of creation. We do not need to be, in Eliot’s words,  “distracted from distraction by distraction.” Rather, silence allows us to be present to the life God has gifted us to live.

Blessed be God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And Blessed be his kingdom, now and forever. Amen. — The Acclimation p. 123 of the 2019 Book of Common Prayer

Sunday worship is a sacred time. It is set apart—holy—from the rest of the week. So, at Apostles, when we begin our time together, we proclaim the reason why we gather. We proclaim the coming of God’s kingdom. Our opening proclamation is a reminder that even for a brief moment, worship is our refuge from the worries and concerns of the week. We set aside the cares, burdens, and baggage, and fix our heart and mind on the work of God in the world. 

To be holy is to be set apart for God’s purposes. As God’s people gathered in worship, longing for heaven, we are set apart to do God’s work. Yet, to get close to a holy thing is precious—dangerous even. As the Epistle to the Hebrews says, “our God is a consuming fire” (12:29). So, we know to be close to God, this requires purification.

In response to drawing near to the holiness of God’s throne of grace (Heb. 4:16), we pray for purity. We pray that in the presence of God, our hearts may become more like His. We name the reality that God knows our hearts and our intentions. Yet, we still offer God the hospitality of invitation into our hearts. We ask him to, in the power of the Spirit, to make us love like Him. This also means that we ask Him to remove what hinders our hearts from getting close to Him. 

As we ask for the gift of His presence through the Spirit, we can be assured that He is a good Father. He wants his children to name their needs, their longings, their desires to Him. God wants us to ask for help in worship, and he delights to give us help. So in worship, as we approach the holiness of God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven, we can be assured that God wants us to be made holy. He has set us apart as a royal priesthood, and delights to make Himself known to us through his son, Jesus.

Be Filled with the Spirit “addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” Ephesians 5:19-20

A good soundtrack changes the experience of watching a movie. Take the iconic Star Wars entrance—the bold fanfare of horns accompanied by scrolling text, setting up the viewer for the world of Jedis and the Dark Side. Or, consider the cello from Jaws—with drawn out, deep notes that build faster and faster, increasing suspense. In both cases, music shapes our affective experience. Our emotions become wrapped into the scene, immersing our whole selves into the storyteller’s narrative. 

Dr. Jeremy Begbie’s Theology, Music, and Time draws parallels between Scripture and Music. In his book, you see that Scripture functions in a similar way to classical music. There is a soundtrack with themes and variations. We read the story of creation, fall, redemption, and new creation. Each line of Scripture echoes, has dissonance, or harmonizes with this underlying theme. Reading the Old Testament, we latch onto these main ideas, yet are left unresolved, longing for a messiah. In the New Testament, we meet Christ—who resolves so much, yet the finale has yet to come. 

Music is not just a logical argument, telling the story of what happened to God’s people with the “facts” and “data points.” Rather, music appeals to the visceral reality of our longing for God. Just as we discipline ourselves to read Scripture and learn about our faith, we need to discipline our emotions to acknowledge God’s authority over all of our lives. 

This is why, in worship, we give our fullest selves to God (remember the verse in Romans 12:1 we repeat each week?). It is important to God that we do not just renew our minds, but give our very selves, soul and body back to God. Music appeals to our emotions and senses, integrating our logical ways of knowing with our embodied ways of knowing.

So, when we make music at church, it is not only a soundtrack appealing to our senses. It is not only something that we do for fun, or entertainment. Music taps into our emotions and experiences, shaping our perceptions by appealing to our senses. To sing, to make melody to God, is to submit our senses and emotions to Him just as much as our intellect. We can logically proclaim our desire to worship, and pray for a right heart to boldly approach the throne of grace. Yet, in music, we take action. We bring our fullest selves, with the hope to disciple our senses and tune to God’s soundtrack over all of creation.

There’s a joke among people who use the Book of Common Prayer to shape their Sunday gathering. It goes like this: A prayer book Christian opens the Bible and says: “Woah, look how much of the prayer book is in here!” Then, a Baptist opens the Book of Common Prayer, and says “Woah, look at how much of the Bible is in the Book of Common Prayer!” While this is poking fun at denominational differences, the sentiment rings true—much of the Book of Common Prayer is drawn directly from Scripture. Yet, it is important to know the source of the words, rather than absorbing the text without catechesis. 

To make sure Anglicans absorb the entirety of scripture, we read through much of the Bible in our scripture readings on Sundays. We commonly use what is called a lectionary, or a denomination-wide Bible reading plan for Sunday mornings. Each Sunday has four readings: a Psalm, Old Testament, New Testament, and Gospel reading. To cover most of the Bible, the lectionary is split into three years. Each year focuses on one Gospel—Matthew in Year A, Mark in Year B, Luke in Year C—while John is interspersed within the feasts and fasts. So, as you attend an Anglican congregation that reads through the lectionary, you should experience much of the Bible in a three- year cycle! 

At Apostles, our lectionary runs slightly differently, but we keep a similar pattern of Gospel texts. At our core, we hope that our congregation might become biblically literate. We want to know the entirety of the story of scripture in our bones, and not just be passive hearers of the word. 

Formally, here is how each section of our scripture readings disciples us and our experience of the word:

Typically, we read the Psalm responsively as a congregation. The Psalms are the prayer book of the Bible, and they teach us how to pray. Another way to incorporate the Psalms into our worship is with music. They were often set to different melodies, accompanied by instruments, or even dancing.

Our Old Testament and New Testament Lessons are read by a lector (lay reader) at the front of the sanctuary. Here, the congregation is at attention, listening to God’s word proclaimed as something to be received. We sit so that we might still our hearts and minds to receive God’s words. 

The Gospel is read from the center of the sanctuary—from the heart of the people! This mirrors the incarnational reality that Jesus is God with us—God made flesh! So, as we hear the Gospel, we stand in awe, and turn towards each other knowing that God is with us. 

Blessed Lord, who caused all Holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and the comfort of your Holy Word we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. 2019 BCP p. 676

In the sections above, I’ve introduced you to some history and background to our Sunday pattern of worship. After a brief primer on why we worship on Sundays, I dove into silence, the Opening Acclamation, Collect for Purity, music, and lessons. Thus far, we’re about a quarter of the way through our time together on Sunday morning. We are in the thick of what is called “The Liturgy of the Word.” In this section, we feast on God’s Word by listening and responding to Scripture. Later in the service, we taste and see the promises set out in Scripture with “The Liturgy of the Eucharist.” But we still have a ways to go until we reach that part of the service!

Now today, we find ourselves with the cultural stereotype of Sunday gatherings—the sermon.

Sermon, homily, message, talk—each of these has a unique place in Christianity’s tradition of preaching. While I won’t go into the differences between these terms, underneath all of these is the fundamental desire to make God’s Word accessible to His people. Preaching is fundamentally an act of public speaking; it needs to be delivered by mouth in front of an audience. By nature, then, there is culture and context intertwined within its delivery.

As a reminder, we are in the center of The Liturgy of the Word—we just read about God’s actions and promises to His people at different points in time. God’s Word gives us life; we are meant to, in the words of Thomas Cranmer, “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them.” We need to metabolize the Word into our very being! So, preaching is this act of metabolizing God’s Word for the people. Preaching takes God’s words and interprets them for specific people, with specific needs, in a specific culture, at a specific time.

So whether you think we need a sermon, homily, message, talk, or don’t understand the difference between these words, I hope we can agree that God’s Word needs to be translated into our lives as individuals and as a church body. Preaching can be so many things, but at its core is the desire to make God’s Word incarnate in our lives, which, fundamentally, is making Jesus known to His people.

Squinting and straining to read can quickly decrease your love of reading. But with the aid of reading glasses of the appropriate strength, your attitude can change. Suddenly, blurry squiggles can become words and phrases, leading you into a new world of thoughts, ideas, and stories. With a new lens, what was once a terrible experience becomes a joy. The words do not change; rather, the way you consume them changes. 

Whether we are aware of it or not, we use different lenses to interpret our world. That might be your cultural identity or the language you use to speak. This is true even in Christianity. While we might hold the Bible as near to our hearts, we can see that people interpret and live out the text differently. We have different lenses through which we read the Word of God. 

The early church gave us a basic lens that we need to understand the Word of God. In 325, the first Council of Nicaea met to discuss how Christians should appropriately discuss the relationship between Jesus, the Son of God, and God the Father. In response, and with the additions from the First Council of Constantinople in 381 AD, we now have the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed. This creed professes what we now know of as the Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. 

This creed is the catholic understanding of who God is, and how Scripture reveals the identity of God. Importantly, the creed is the lens through which we read and interpret Scripture. It allows us to see clearly, in partnership with the Church, the character of God as revealed in God’s words. 

You can try to read the Bible without the creeds—without knowing that the words reveal the love of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—but that may lead to skewed conclusions or misunderstandings. Rather, reading through the lens of the creed, this will always lead to love and charity. 

So, we recite the creed in our services each week because, just as we all use different lenses to filter our experience of the world, we need the creed to filter our experience of reading Scripture, always in light of the love of our triune God.

Continuing with our worship on Sunday morning, thus far, we have heard the Word proclaimed in Scripture and Sermon. Saying the Nicene Creed, we have affirmed our faith in the God to which both witnessed. Now, it is time to act upon our faith that we have heard and affirmed. 

By means of encouragement, and to teach us how to pray, our worship on Sundays has a section called “The Prayers of the People.” Simply, it is when the people are called out to pray. In prayer, the congregation assumes their priestly role, interceding for the world. Together, we act upon the faith we’ve proclaimed, and ask for God’s kingdom to come, His will to be done, on earth as it is in heaven. 

We begin with a series of petitions, or scripted prayers that cover a specific topic. These prayers reminded us to pray for all aspects of our lives. Sometimes, you might feel uncomfortable praying for God to show up with a particular prayer. Yet, these prayers are a discipleship tool, reminding us that we need God to show up in every aspect of our lives.

Then, our order of worship takes a turn—the microphone is (metaphorically) handed over to the congregation to lead. Silently or aloud, every Sunday the congregation gets a chance to bring their unique needs, burdens, thanksgivings, sorrows, and joys before the presence of God. We are led into a spirit of prayer not just from the front, but from deep within the soul of the congregation. Hearing the congregation voice their soul’s cray before God is a gift to the church. 

Yet, praying out loud in a group of people feels intimidating. You might think: What do I say? Am I being articulate? Am I being overbearing? Am I oversharing? Am I about to interrupt someone? Am I praying for the right thing? These thoughts become a spiral, sinking you deeper into your thoughts. The deeper you go within, the further you get from being present with the group of people. The chasm between your thoughts and your voice widens so much—that even a thought screaming in your head barely becomes a whisper on your lips.

But know that a short, simple prayer with a humble and repentant heart is all that God desires (think of Luke 18:9-14). Be encouraged by the congregation besides you, and assume your role in the priesthood of all believers. So, bring your small, inarticulate words in prayer. Act upon your faith in prayer, and know that God sees you and your needs.

This is a living document that will be completed Easter 2027. You can read these reflections in our newsletter as they come out each week (Sign up below). Here are the upcoming sections:

• Nov 11 The Collect of the Day

• Nov 18 The Confession 

• Nov 25 Absolution of Sin and The Comfortable Words

ADVENT INTERLUDE 

• Dec 2 Hope

• Dec 9 Peace

• Dec 16 Joy 

• Dec 23 Love

RESUME WORSHIP SERIES

• Dec 30 The Peace

• Jan 6 The Offertory

• Jan 13 The Sursum Corda

• Jan 20 The Sanctus

• Jan 27 The Prayer of Consecration 

• Feb 3 The Lord’s Prayer

LENT BEGINS

• Feb 10  ASH WEDNESDAY The Fraction

• Feb 17 The Prayer of Humble Access

• Feb 24 Ministration of Communion

• Mar 3 The Post Communion Prayer

• Mar 10 The Blessing

• Mar 17 The Dismissal

HOLY WEEK

• Living out the Eucharist