Why We Do What We Do in Church
by Fr. Dominique Peridans
The following is adapted from a presentation from our Adult Formation Series delivered on September 20, 2026.
Let me be specific with you regarding today’s topic: Let’s explore what we do together inside the main part of this church building, inside the space which, by virtue of intention and consecration and what we do, is sacred. ‘Sacred,’ meaning “for God”: God’s in a special way. We are talking about worship, which, for the last several centuries in English, has referred to the corporate act of honoring God. We also use the term liturgy, from the Greek for ‘public service’ or ‘work of the people’: what we do ! Of course, what we do in church ought to inform what we do out here; in a sense, it overflows into our week, into the nooks and crannies of our lives.
The Second Vatican Council, the Second Ecumenical Council of the Vatican, towards which the Anglican Communion looks in many ways (in fact, I recall conversation with a now retired Assistant Bishop of Virginia, as I was preparing to be received into the Episcopalian part of the Church, in which I asked him: “what documents capture well the ‘ecclesiology’ of the Anglican Communion, how Anglicans/Episcopalians understand Church?” He responded, “the documents of the Second Vatican Council.” Sacrosanctum Concilium (10), the document on liturgy, promulgated in 1963, says, the liturgy is “the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed” and “the font from which all her power flows”. A mountaintop experience in which heaven meets earth, which ought to inform everything. Transcendent, yet unbelievably concrete and real. You will hopefully, gradually, see how far beyond we are an experience in which we simply gather to hear a message…
Let me also state, before you read any further, that I am not an expert in any of this. I have had the privilege of a little theological training; however, I am a fellow pilgrim with you whose faith, like yours, seeks understanding. We are exploring in faith.
The simplest, in a sense most comprehensive, yet most mysterious answer to why we do what we do in church: Jesus ! We are here because of Jesus, because God took the mysterious holy initiative of the Incarnation, because Jesus, God incarnate, invites and draws us, by grace, into the life of God. “By the gift of grace”: As the congregationalist theologian and revivalist preacher, Jonathan Edwards (+1758), an avid learner who wrote on all sorts of non-theological topics from light to spiders, theologically says, Grace is the seed of glory, the dawning of glory in the heart. By grace, we are in intimate relationship with God, more intimate than humanity had ever known before the coming of Christ, and we participate in God’s very own life, glory. It is a mystery! It is a mystery of faith.
Yet, we are still journeying Home, to the fulness of glory. The ‘already not yet’ nature of the Christian life, a way of situating our relationship with God, sometimes theologically called Inaugurated Eschatology: Jesus having come and coming each day and definitively at the end of time.
The liturgy, what we do together as we worship, necessary reflects this and is, therefore, both that of the Church Triumphant (triumphant in love!) and that of the Church Militant or Pilgrim.
Indeed, there is an eternal liturgy in which we participate, doors to which are wonderfully opened when we gather, and which, ultimately, helps to understand why we do what we do. As Cardinal Ratzinger, Pope Benedict from 2005 to 2013, in his book, The Spirit of the Liturgy, published in 2000, says, It is the worship of an open heaven.
Speaking of the eternal liturgy, I have sometimes heard, “What are we going to do for all eternity?!? It sounds boring!” We will worship, heaven-style, enraptured in fulness of joy, which means no boredom—which occurs when we are not enraptured, i.e., not deeply and fully engaged—parts of us feel like spectators. Also, do not think of eternity as extended, endless time. It’s a really big NOW.
Because a participation in the eternal liturgy, by the way, we deliberately say, in our greeting before the opening procession, you may have noticed, “our celebration now continues”, instead of now begins.
The eternal liturgy in which we participate is referenced symbolically, very strangely, in Book of Revelation, last book of the Bible, that book few dare to open and read! Speaking of this and of how the eternal liturgy sheds light on why we do what we do,
Catholic theologian Scott Hahn (begun as a Presbyterian minister) says:
The heavenly liturgy is the golden thread that holds together all of the apocalyptic pearls in John’s Revelation, starting in chapter one where Jesus appears wearing a white robe and a golden girdle. This is what the high priest wore in the Jerusalem Temple. He stands among the seven gold lamp stands—this the Temple menorah. As you move to chapter two, you hear “Repent, repent” eight times, as one hears the Penitential Rite* at the opening of the Mass. Eight times in the seven letters to the seven churches one hears this, along with the promise that if one does repent and overcome, there is manna that awaits.
And then, near the end of the seventh letter, come the words I’ve heard Billy Graham preach so many times: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in” (Rev. 3:20). I noticed that Billy Graham, however, had always stopped right there. I’ll come in—what, to your heart? If you keep reading, Jesus says, “I will come in—and sup with him and he with me.” Just what supper is he talking about? I wondered, as I moved into chapters four and five of Revelation: is Christ not talking about the Communion supper?
*collect for purity and Kyrie Eleison (Lord, have mercy)
Hebrews 4:14 speaks to the heavenly liturgy and our participation therein: We have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God. This passage suggests tremendous continuity between earth’s and heaven’s liturgy.
Speaking of manna, of food, our liturgy is also, that of pilgrims. What do people on a journey need: food! As we say in one of the Eucharistic Prayers (A), the holy food and drink of new and unending life in him.
A foretaste of the heavenly banquet, with both feet on the earth. Our worship, therefore, ought to feel majestic and even other-worldly, yet taking hold of us in all that we are—hence the brilliant, fitting use of symbols and elements engaging our senses, to turn our whole persons to God, and not think ourselves distant spectators.
Liturgy, worship, needless to say, is not a private function. Liturgical services are always an affair of the whole Body of Christ. We are never alone…
As our 1979 Book of Common Prayer Catechism says:
The Church is the Body of which Jesus Christ is the Head and of which all baptized persons are members. It is called the People of God, the New Israel, a holy nation, a royal priesthood, and the pillar and ground of truth.
The liturgy, our worship service, is also an action, to use another metaphor, of the Bride of Christ responding to Her Spouse. Revelation 19:9 says, Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb. Our worship is that of a spouse responding to her Beloved who gives Himself. As was asked, can we consider Communion to be a participation in the spousal supper of the Lamb? Note that, in the Book of Revelation, Jesus is referred to as The Lamb 28 times, and in no other book, except the gospel of John. Very important if the Book of Revelation sheds light on our worship: how far beyond we are an experience in which we simply gather to hear a message…
Our worship is a loving response to God that necessarily embraces the fulness of what we believe God reveals: God-One and Three, God-Incarnate, God-reigning over all Creation and in communal and personal relationship with us, saving us…
Liturgy, therefore, is a brilliant teacher, “condensing” into prayer all the truths of our faith. Our worship is always vast, certainly bigger than what we see and feel. And, when we are not feeling it (!), we are carried by others, by the Body. You need not understand the experience in order to enter into the experience. Your experience makes you want to understand and seek understanding; but it is never reduced to or awaits your understanding. Again, see how far beyond we are an experience in which we simply gather to hear a message…
The vastness of the experience reflects the awesomeness and bigness of God. And it sets a tone, if you will, for the experience: although wholeheartedly, whole-personally engaging, there is a certain restraint. We are like Moses before the burning bush at Mount Horeb in Exodus 3 (v.5) “Do not come any closer”, God said. “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground”. One notices many make gestures that translate this reverence: genuflecting before the sacramental presence of Christ in the tabernacle; signs of the cross at various times to acknowledge the three persons of the Trinity, bowing… The restraint is not stiffness, however. We are guests and at home. While maintaining a sense of reverential awe, this is our comfort zone! Seemingly contradictory…
The Spirit of the Liturgy, a famous book by Italian-born, German Catholic theologian, Romano Guardini, professor at the University of Berlin, until expelled by the Nazis in 1939, explores this restraint and the emotional component of our worship experience. Again, Mass is not a private function, a self-crafted experience designed to express me in the contours of my psyche, the uniqueness of my personality. It is not a “you do you!” experience. The child of God in you is called forth and steps into this experience, and your psyche, your personality, aspects of you necessarily participate, are invited but not foregrounded.
The liturgy as a whole is not favourable to exuberance of feeling. Emotion glows in its depths, but it smoulders merely like the fiery heart of the volcano, whose summit stands out clear and serene against the quiet sky. The liturgy is emotion, but it is emotion under the strictest control. We are made particularly aware of this at Holy Mass… where we find masterpieces of spiritual restraint.
Guardini also says the following:
The prayer of the church does not probe and lay bare the heart’s secrets. It does, it is true, awaken very profound and very tender emotions and impulses, but it leaves them hidden. There are certain feelings of surrender, certain aspects of interior candour that cannot be publicly proclaimed, at any rate, in their entirety. The liturgy has perfected a masterly instrument that has made it possible for us to express our inner life in all its fullness and depth, without divulging our secrets. We can pour out our hearts and still feel that nothing has been dragged to light that should remain hidden.
Another way of understanding the liturgy is in considering the gifts that we believe Jesus has given to us, His Body, His pilgrim Church, gifts that we receive in communal celebration, not in isolation.
How we pray, our worship, is what we do regarding these gifts. Although an organic whole that continues, in a sense, into the streets, in our worship there are two major parts: Liturgy of the Word and Liturgy of the Eucharist.
In an upcoming Theological Forum, we will explore how these two gifts structure the liturgy and inform the discernment of all that is incorporated into this unique experience.
Let me be specific with you regarding today’s topic: Let’s explore what we do together inside the main part of this church building, inside the space which, by virtue of intention and consecration and what we do, is sacred. ‘Sacred,’ meaning “for God”: God’s in a special way. We are talking about worship, which, for the last several centuries in English, has referred to the corporate act of honoring God. We also use the term liturgy, from the Greek for ‘public service’ or ‘work of the people’: what we do ! Of course, what we do in church ought to inform what we do out here; in a sense, it overflows into our week, into the nooks and crannies of our lives.
The Second Vatican Council, the Second Ecumenical Council of the Vatican, towards which the Anglican Communion looks in many ways (in fact, I recall conversation with a now retired Assistant Bishop of Virginia, as I was preparing to be received into the Episcopalian part of the Church, in which I asked him: “what documents capture well the ‘ecclesiology’ of the Anglican Communion, how Anglicans/Episcopalians understand Church?” He responded, “the documents of the Second Vatican Council.” Sacrosanctum Concilium (10), the document on liturgy, promulgated in 1963, says, the liturgy is “the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed” and “the font from which all her power flows”. A mountaintop experience in which heaven meets earth, which ought to inform everything. Transcendent, yet unbelievably concrete and real. You will hopefully, gradually, see how far beyond we are an experience in which we simply gather to hear a message…
Let me also state, before you read any further, that I am not an expert in any of this. I have had the privilege of a little theological training; however, I am a fellow pilgrim with you whose faith, like yours, seeks understanding. We are exploring in faith.
The simplest, in a sense most comprehensive, yet most mysterious answer to why we do what we do in church: Jesus ! We are here because of Jesus, because God took the mysterious holy initiative of the Incarnation, because Jesus, God incarnate, invites and draws us, by grace, into the life of God. “By the gift of grace”: As the congregationalist theologian and revivalist preacher, Jonathan Edwards (+1758), an avid learner who wrote on all sorts of non-theological topics from light to spiders, theologically says, Grace is the seed of glory, the dawning of glory in the heart. By grace, we are in intimate relationship with God, more intimate than humanity had ever known before the coming of Christ, and we participate in God’s very own life, glory. It is a mystery! It is a mystery of faith.
Yet, we are still journeying Home, to the fulness of glory. The ‘already not yet’ nature of the Christian life, a way of situating our relationship with God, sometimes theologically called Inaugurated Eschatology: Jesus having come and coming each day and definitively at the end of time.
The liturgy, what we do together as we worship, necessary reflects this and is, therefore, both that of the Church Triumphant (triumphant in love!) and that of the Church Militant or Pilgrim.
Indeed, there is an eternal liturgy in which we participate, doors to which are wonderfully opened when we gather, and which, ultimately, helps to understand why we do what we do. As Cardinal Ratzinger, Pope Benedict from 2005 to 2013, in his book, The Spirit of the Liturgy, published in 2000, says, It is the worship of an open heaven.
Speaking of the eternal liturgy, I have sometimes heard, “What are we going to do for all eternity?!? It sounds boring!” We will worship, heaven-style, enraptured in fulness of joy, which means no boredom—which occurs when we are not enraptured, i.e., not deeply and fully engaged—parts of us feel like spectators. Also, do not think of eternity as extended, endless time. It’s a really big NOW.
Because a participation in the eternal liturgy, by the way, we deliberately say, in our greeting before the opening procession, you may have noticed, “our celebration now continues”, instead of now begins.
The eternal liturgy in which we participate is referenced symbolically, very strangely, in Book of Revelation, last book of the Bible, that book few dare to open and read! Speaking of this and of how the eternal liturgy sheds light on why we do what we do,
Catholic theologian Scott Hahn (begun as a Presbyterian minister) says:
The heavenly liturgy is the golden thread that holds together all of the apocalyptic pearls in John’s Revelation, starting in chapter one where Jesus appears wearing a white robe and a golden girdle. This is what the high priest wore in the Jerusalem Temple. He stands among the seven gold lamp stands—this the Temple menorah. As you move to chapter two, you hear “Repent, repent” eight times, as one hears the Penitential Rite* at the opening of the Mass. Eight times in the seven letters to the seven churches one hears this, along with the promise that if one does repent and overcome, there is manna that awaits.
And then, near the end of the seventh letter, come the words I’ve heard Billy Graham preach so many times: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in” (Rev. 3:20). I noticed that Billy Graham, however, had always stopped right there. I’ll come in—what, to your heart? If you keep reading, Jesus says, “I will come in—and sup with him and he with me.” Just what supper is he talking about? I wondered, as I moved into chapters four and five of Revelation: is Christ not talking about the Communion supper?
*collect for purity and Kyrie Eleison (Lord, have mercy)
Hebrews 4:14 speaks to the heavenly liturgy and our participation therein: We have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God. This passage suggests tremendous continuity between earth’s and heaven’s liturgy.
Speaking of manna, of food, our liturgy is also, that of pilgrims. What do people on a journey need: food! As we say in one of the Eucharistic Prayers (A), the holy food and drink of new and unending life in him.
A foretaste of the heavenly banquet, with both feet on the earth. Our worship, therefore, ought to feel majestic and even other-worldly, yet taking hold of us in all that we are—hence the brilliant, fitting use of symbols and elements engaging our senses, to turn our whole persons to God, and not think ourselves distant spectators.
Liturgy, worship, needless to say, is not a private function. Liturgical services are always an affair of the whole Body of Christ. We are never alone…
As our 1979 Book of Common Prayer Catechism says:
The Church is the Body of which Jesus Christ is the Head and of which all baptized persons are members. It is called the People of God, the New Israel, a holy nation, a royal priesthood, and the pillar and ground of truth.
The liturgy, our worship service, is also an action, to use another metaphor, of the Bride of Christ responding to Her Spouse. Revelation 19:9 says, Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb. Our worship is that of a spouse responding to her Beloved who gives Himself. As was asked, can we consider Communion to be a participation in the spousal supper of the Lamb? Note that, in the Book of Revelation, Jesus is referred to as The Lamb 28 times, and in no other book, except the gospel of John. Very important if the Book of Revelation sheds light on our worship: how far beyond we are an experience in which we simply gather to hear a message…
Our worship is a loving response to God that necessarily embraces the fulness of what we believe God reveals: God-One and Three, God-Incarnate, God-reigning over all Creation and in communal and personal relationship with us, saving us…
Liturgy, therefore, is a brilliant teacher, “condensing” into prayer all the truths of our faith. Our worship is always vast, certainly bigger than what we see and feel. And, when we are not feeling it (!), we are carried by others, by the Body. You need not understand the experience in order to enter into the experience. Your experience makes you want to understand and seek understanding; but it is never reduced to or awaits your understanding. Again, see how far beyond we are an experience in which we simply gather to hear a message…
The vastness of the experience reflects the awesomeness and bigness of God. And it sets a tone, if you will, for the experience: although wholeheartedly, whole-personally engaging, there is a certain restraint. We are like Moses before the burning bush at Mount Horeb in Exodus 3 (v.5) “Do not come any closer”, God said. “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground”. One notices many make gestures that translate this reverence: genuflecting before the sacramental presence of Christ in the tabernacle; signs of the cross at various times to acknowledge the three persons of the Trinity, bowing… The restraint is not stiffness, however. We are guests and at home. While maintaining a sense of reverential awe, this is our comfort zone! Seemingly contradictory…
The Spirit of the Liturgy, a famous book by Italian-born, German Catholic theologian, Romano Guardini, professor at the University of Berlin, until expelled by the Nazis in 1939, explores this restraint and the emotional component of our worship experience. Again, Mass is not a private function, a self-crafted experience designed to express me in the contours of my psyche, the uniqueness of my personality. It is not a “you do you!” experience. The child of God in you is called forth and steps into this experience, and your psyche, your personality, aspects of you necessarily participate, are invited but not foregrounded.
The liturgy as a whole is not favourable to exuberance of feeling. Emotion glows in its depths, but it smoulders merely like the fiery heart of the volcano, whose summit stands out clear and serene against the quiet sky. The liturgy is emotion, but it is emotion under the strictest control. We are made particularly aware of this at Holy Mass… where we find masterpieces of spiritual restraint.
Guardini also says the following:
The prayer of the church does not probe and lay bare the heart’s secrets. It does, it is true, awaken very profound and very tender emotions and impulses, but it leaves them hidden. There are certain feelings of surrender, certain aspects of interior candour that cannot be publicly proclaimed, at any rate, in their entirety. The liturgy has perfected a masterly instrument that has made it possible for us to express our inner life in all its fullness and depth, without divulging our secrets. We can pour out our hearts and still feel that nothing has been dragged to light that should remain hidden.
Another way of understanding the liturgy is in considering the gifts that we believe Jesus has given to us, His Body, His pilgrim Church, gifts that we receive in communal celebration, not in isolation.
How we pray, our worship, is what we do regarding these gifts. Although an organic whole that continues, in a sense, into the streets, in our worship there are two major parts: Liturgy of the Word and Liturgy of the Eucharist.
In an upcoming Theological Forum, we will explore how these two gifts structure the liturgy and inform the discernment of all that is incorporated into this unique experience.