Why is that Cat Tied to a Tree?

(St Peter's Episcopal Church has four services each weekend. The liturgy at those services are usually varied and range from very traditional to theologically creative. During the six consecutive Sundays of Lent, the six different Eucharistic Prayers in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer will be used at each service, consecutively. This will be something quite different for the people at St Peter's; challenging them to consider their traditions, their reasons, and their beliefs.)

I love good stories, especially when they're told by a gifted storyteller. Recently, I heard author and theologian Peter Rollins tell a parable about a monk and a cat. There was a monk who lived alone in a monastery. Every day the monk would enter the monastery to pray. At about the moment the monk would be deep in his meditation, the cat would come along and rub against his back and then lick his face, totally disturbing the monk's ability to focus on his prayers. Finally, one morning, as the monk was walking into the monastery he saw the cat. He picked it up and took him outside and tied the cat to a large tree. When the monk had finished praying he went outside and let the cat free. Thus, began the monk's new ritual. Every morning before praying he would gather up the cat and tie him to tree just outside the monastery's door.

Over time, other monks joined the monastery. After many years, the eldest monk died. But his younger followers kept up the practice of tying the cat to the tree before their morning prayers. Then one day the cat died. The monks went to town and bought another cat so they could continue their ritual of tying the cat to the tree before their morning prayers. Generations of monks continued the practice of tying a cat to the tree that stood outside the monastery door. After seven generations, the tree died. So, the monks planted a special tree in its place so that they could continue the practice of tying a cat to the tree before beginning morning prayers.

Eventually, scholars came to the monastery to study the phenomena of tying a cat to the tree before praying. The scholars studied and wrote treatises on the theological reasons and practices of tying a cat to a tree before praying.

This story has caused me to wonder if the Book of Common Prayer and our Episcopalian worship practices may have suffered the same loss of institutional memory as the monks who kept tying a random cat to a tree.

The Book of Common Prayer was first written by Thomas Cranmer in 1549 as part of the Anglican Reformation and its separation from the Roman Catholic Church. There were three major theological changes that Cranmer instituted. The prayer book was written in English as opposed to Latin, thereby giving the people access to what was being said at the Mass. As well, the new prayer book loosened the Roman Catholic theology underpinning the sacrifice of Christ in the Mass, (the Holy Eucharist) making subtler the understanding that God's sacrifice of Christ as necessary for salvation. And Cranmer moved the theology of the blessing of the bread and wine away from the literal transformation of the bread and wine in the body and blood of Jesus Christ, to a more nuanced understanding, whereby the bread and wine became the "presence" of Christ.

Eventually, the Church of England came to America with the first settlers. The American Revolution naturally separated American Anglicans from their mother Church, necessitating new bishops and the writing of a new prayer book. The first Episcopal (American Anglicans) prayer book was written in 1789. It was based primarily, but not solely on, the Church of England's 1662 BCP. Minor revisions were made in the Episcopal prayer book until 1928, when language was re-introduced into the communion service, returning the Mass to be more theologically congruent with the Roman Catholic Church, particularly Christ being both priest and victim. (See particularly Hymn 460, "Alleluia, Sing to Jesus" where it uses the language, (Jesus) "our great High Priest, thou on earth both Priest and victim in the Eucharistic feast.")

In 1979, the Episcopal Church developed a new Book of Common Prayer. The new BCP maintained the language of the 1928 Prayer Book in the Rite I service. The more contemporary language, however, of the Rite II service somewhat softened the theological position of Christ as both priest and victim. The theology of the blood atonement of Christ (Jesus had to die on the Cross for the forgiveness of sins and salvation), however, still dominates the Eucharistic liturgy.

Interestingly enough, The Catechism at the back of the prayer book, is more nuanced in its explanation of Christ's offering on the cross.

What lies at the heart of any Eucharistic liturgy is the theology upon which it is constructed. Those theological issues can be broken into three questions: Did God sacrifice Jesus on the Cross? Did Jesus have to die on the Cross so that our sins could be forgiven? And, are the elements of bread and wine transmuted into the perpetual body and blood of Jesus Christ?

There are theologians who would say, "Yes" in answer to all those questions. There are also theologians who would say "No" to all those questions. There are theologians who would "Yes" to some and "No" to others. And there are also theologians who would say that those are the wrong questions.

What is the official teaching of the Episcopal Church? Ah, there's the rub. It depends on who you ask? There are theologically safe answers and there are theologically risky answers.

In the Episcopal Church, one must always keep in mind the vows the priest commits to at their ordination, which thereby explains the range of risk any priest might take by tinkering with the liturgy.

The priest is asked: "Will you be loyal to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of Christ as this Church has received them? And will you, in accordance with the canons of this Church, obey your bishop and other ministers who may have authority over you and your work?"

And the priest responds: "I am willing and ready to do so; and I solemnly declare that I do believe the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be the Word of God, and to contain all things necessary to salvation; and I do solemnly engage to conform to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of The Episcopal Church."

There are a few germane questions for this conversation: What if the priest's theology changes over the course of time? How could a priest say words that they may not believe to be congruent with their own theology? And how could a lay person participate in a service where they don't agree with the theology of the church or the priest?

The answer to these questions could be found in the rich poetic language and symbolism of the liturgy; what's known as theopoetics. In other words, the poetical language and symbolism that manifests in the liturgy are open for interpretation; the same as with any poetry. Though we are all saying the same words, what I think, feel, intuit, and imagine most likely could be something very different than anyone else in the room.

The most important questions are: Do you know what you believe? And do you know why you believe it? And are you willing to tolerate other people in your church who believe something vastly different than you do?

Is it okay with you that the liturgy at a Rite I service demands that Jesus is both priest and victim? While at the same time your church might offer another service where the liturgy suggests that Jesus willingly gave himself over to the integrated process of becoming one with God through birth, life, death, and rebirth; and through that action he models for us our own process of becoming one with God. Or, a third, presenting the theology of Richard Rohr, which states that Jesus did not die in order to change God's mind about humans (Jesus sacrificed for our sins) but that Christ died instead to change human's mind about God (God is a God of love and not retribution).

The question for any Episcopal congregation must be: Can the priest and the people be pastorally sensitive enough to authentically accommodate a wide range of theological positions while maintaining the necessary space in their own life to continue to evolve both theologically and psychologically?

Or, in more practical terms, "Do we know why the monk tied the cat to the tree?"