Welcome To My Office

I had written to a friend the other evening and mentioned the ‘Daily Office’ in my email. But last night, in one of those inexplicable moments that wake you for no reason, whatsoever, I mumbled to myself that ‘I should have explained that better.’ And as best as I can recollect, within seconds I was back in the land of Winkin, Blinkin and Nod.

The ‘Daily Office’ is what the Church calls the daily cycle of liturgical prayer. ‘Office’ as in ‘work.’ Not just any work, though: the term ‘office’ implies work that is expected or required. The Office is something you do because of what you are. The office of a pilot is to fly planes. The office of a doctor is to evaluate patient needs and help them get better. And the office of a person of faith is to pray.

Certainly, we can pray any way we like. It isn’t necessary to use an office book. But for many it is not easy to pray when you don’t have a regular rule for doing so. You may tell yourself that you’ll just pray when something comes to mind, but that’s more of a ‘maybe I will and maybe I won’t sort of commitment.’

But I want to. I want to invest in my prayer. I want to be a shareholder. I want to enhance my skills to be the kind of person for whom prayer is an office, something expected of me. Something I expect of myself. Something I do because of who I am. A rule helps. And the dependable presence of our beautiful Anglican prayers help. Sometimes the solitude of a quiet church in the afternoon helps provide a spiritual window towards God. But I feel blessed in that I can often find the solitude I need even in the midst of a bustling city.

The times of the various components of the Daily Office are set. They’re called the ‘hours.’ Modern Anglicans ordinarily do four of the hours -- Morning Prayer, Noonday, Evening Prayer and Compline -- although some celebrate the entire ancient seven.

We didn't invent the hours. Jews and Muslims alike have ancient hours of prayer as well. When I lived in the Middle East, I was able to follow my office by listening to the Muslim’s call to prayer that was broadcast from the minarets throughout the city. I was often deeply moved by the thought that there we were, all of us, from every walk of life, lifting up our voices and our supplications to God, collectively, as one. Whatever our denomination – it mattered not. And the prayers we offered were not that far apart: protection for our families, peace with our neighbours, and a closer relationship with God.

It’s Friday evening. Our week is drawing to a close. ‘Let us bless the Lord.’

Thanks be to God! Indeed!

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