On Sunday, September 1st, I reach my "lectionariversary." I made up that word, and I admit that sometimes such things please me a little too much--I tend to laugh at my own jokes too much. What I mean by that is that on my first Sunday here in Pauls Valley, which was my first Sunday after being first ordained the day before, I first preached as a Minister of Word and Sacrament on "Proper 17 of year B."
Back then it was the last Sunday of August, so how do I celebrate an anniversary when the dates and the days of the week shift around? In the lectionary tables, the Sundays are numbered either according to the order of Sundays within their season (like the 2nd Sunday in Lent) or following the last big liturgical Sunday (like the 9th Sunday after Epiphany). The Sundays after Pentecost are numbered as "Propers." Pentecost, by backward extrapolation, is Proper 1, and Trinity Sunday is Proper 2, though they're never called by those names. Three years ago, the last Sunday of August was Proper 17, and this year Proper 17 is the First of September.
The lectionary is organized into three years of readings. Each of Matthew, Mark, and Luke are assigned to be the dominant gospel readings for one of the years, and because we start over every three years, they are referred to by letters. Matthew is Year A, Mark is Year B, and Luke is Year C. John is assigned suitable representation throughout, especially in Holy Week. Three years ago was Year B. That's what I mean when I say my first day preaching was Proper 17, year B. Because it starts over every three years, it is a sort of anniversary. "Anni-"versary implies that it's annual, like a birthday or wedding anniversary, but this only comes around every three years based on the lectionary and not the calendar year, so I call it my "lectionariversary" every time Proper 17 of year B comes around again. We'll be reading in Mark and starting a series of weeks with readings in James.
One of the things about the lectionary is that it attempts to cover most of all of the gospels. If you're a little OCD or have completionist tendencies, then the end of three years might make you think, "Yay! I did that." I guess that's true on New Year's Eve every year, too: "Yay! I just finished all the days of a year." But in the case of the worshiping church, it's important to remember that worship doesn't stop after three years. "When we've been there ten thousand years . . . we've no less days to sing God's praise than when we first begun." It is our privilege and joy to worship God. We don't WANT it to end, and it won't. We'll be worshipping God for all eternity. The fact that the lectionary starts over after three years means that we GET to start reading the bible over again, not that we HAVE to, as though it's a chore.
Gail Ramshaw in A Three-Year Banquet: the Lectionary for the Assembly, captures the rhythm of this "starting over" by talking about the character of each of the gospels in the cycle:
In year A [in Matthew,] we disciples hear Jesus call out, “Be perfect!” In year B, [in Mark,] we hear that even as Jesus’ disciples, we might miss the presence of the hidden God. Fortunately, in year C [in Luke,] we meet with the comfort of the Savior’s forgiveness. At the close of year C, when we are all snug in our forgiveness, it is good to be thrown back into the tough talk of Matthew.
From "tough talk" to caution to forgiveness and back to challenge, the lectionary offers a framework for the ongoing living out of our lives as disciples. She concludes that "Throughout, John will hold before us the I am, God beyond all, God incarnate in Jesus Christ for the salvation of the whole world." It is also thus in our lives: through our challenges and successes, the great I AM sustains us and is our savior. So we start over and life is ever new.
But anniversaries (whether annual or every three years) also make us reflective. It's tempting to say that I've done this--that I've been here three years or that I've finished a cycle of the lectionary. As I reflect, though, the first thing I realize is that it's WE who have done this together. I'm incredibly grateful for the many people who've been supportive of (and challenging to) me during this time. WE've accomplished things together. WE've suffered through some things, too. I especially miss those saints that we've had to part with until the resurrection. We grieve together and comfort one another. We've both celebrated and struggled, but we continue into the future in the sure hope of God's love, Christ's salvation, and the Spirit's care of us.
--Chas
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