How the Book of Common Prayer Shapes Our Faith
Nearly fifteen years ago, I was at a weekend retreat off the coast of Washington—there were wood cabins, homey food, occasional views of the snow-capped Olympic mountains. Good friends were the speakers, and I went largely to hear and support them. On the wet Saturday morning, colorful raincoats draped and dripping over unused chairs, we were divided into groups of eight and asked that we go around the circle sharing our names and where we were from, and answering the question, “What has shaped you as a Christian?”
The Enduring Power of the Book of Common Prayer
My stomach tightened hearing the last question, and more so as my turn got closer. Was I pathetic not to know? The complete absence of faith in my childhood? The books of C.S. Lewis? Our group’s leader clearly wanted something more specific than “the Holy Spirit” or “Scripture.” As the woman two to my left was telling us about her time working in Uganda, I suddenly realized my answer. The Book of Common Prayer. It was a surprise—and made total sense.
Week after week, in the pews at church, praying at home with the small red book, texting a collect to my sister late at night, the prayer book’s words had steadied and shaped me. When my kids were small and I was too weary to form a coherent thought, when marriage was so hard I wanted to give up, when my sin felt so acute I felt too ashamed to pray, when I knew I was supposed to praise God but felt little enthusiasm, the prayer book was my life preserver. Its words of grace and confession, its prayers in their set patterns, have been the primary means of God’s love and grace to me.
Finding Grace in the Words of the Prayer Book
When it was my turn and I answered, “the Book of Common Prayer,” there were raised eyebrows and perplexed stares. Was it strange that a 450-year-old British book could have that capacity? Did my circle-mates find it odd that I had been shaped by saying the same antiquated words every Sunday? I was dressed in my green fleece and faded jeans, but perhaps they thought the prayer book was only for people who wore tweed jackets and read dead English poets in their spare time.
The Book of Common Prayer: A Lifelong Companion in Faith
I knew my answer was true—and the more I have reflected on it since that rainy morning, the more I know I was given a gift. The language is old, and the prayers are set, but the prayer book has been constant in showing me its tender understanding of my heart and in conveying God’s loving character and steady presence—for what the prayer book calls a “means of grace and hope of glory.”
Anglican priest Lesslie Newbigin wrote in her book Proper Confidence, “The business of the church is to tell and embody a story.” I would add the church’s business is also to watch for that story, to watch for God at work in the world, to be like my sky-watching husband who sometimes stays up into the early hours of the morning looking for a galaxy. The prayer book has been my window on that story, showing me God in our midst, and leading me to become more skilled at doing so. The prayer book hasn’t become a substitute for the Bible but a means to live into it.
Adapted from The Riches of Your Grace by Julie Lane-Gay. ©2024 by Julie Lane-Gay. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press. www.ivpress.com.
Julie Lane-Gay is a freelance writer and editor. She is the author of The Riches of Your Grace. Her work has appeared in a range of publications including Reader’s Digest, Fine Gardening, Faith Today, Anglican Planet, and The Englewood Review of Books. She teaches occasional courses at Regent College and also edits the college’s journal, CRUX.
