22 Sept: The Feast of Lancelot Andrewes

Bishop, Preacher, Scholar, Translator, and Knight of the Round Table (assumedly)

Celebrated at Southwark Cathedral

&

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Comedy by Mr. Wm. Shakespeare

Preformed at The (New) Globe, Bankside

The elders which are among you I exhort, who am also an elder, and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory that shall be revealed: Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind; Neither as lords over God’s heritage, but being ensamples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you.

1 Peter 5: 1-4, from the King James Bible, of which Lancelot Andrews was an author

Sunday morning, my Sri Lankan Sister in the Community of St. Anselm and I attended two beautiful, very British services. One, a choral Eucharist at Southwark Cathedral, and the other, a matinee of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Shakespere’s Globe. For propriety’s sake, I will not overstate the similarities between these festivals, save that Sheelu and I shared them both, and that I could “willingly waste” the rest of my year in either place.

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We arrived late, but received the warm greeting reserved for those who showed up despite their tardiness and the rain-clouds outside. Children ran and shouted at the back of the nave and a few tourists milled around, deciding if they should stay or not, while Sheelu and I slipped into a row of chairs next to an older black couple. A gay couple sat behind us, an Afro-Caribbean woman in front, young people and old people, more children…for a space that once welcomed Lancelot Andrewes, it now drew an encouragingly diverse congregation. The procession of the Elements was particularly touching — really a vision how I see the Kingdom of God on earth — because a young black man and a white woman with rainbow hair acted as acolytes to lead a dozen saints of every color and gender, including an elderly woman walking arm-in-arm with her younger neighbor. She, alone, carried the host and beamed, while the rest of the procession carried collection plates (card and ApplePay readers available in the back!) and generations of silver chalices. The choir, blessedly English with its boy sopranos, sang Charles Villers Stanford’s stunning setting of Justorum Anime. That anthem, offered at Communion, balanced the more contemporary hymn, Before the Throne of God Above, just as the clouds of incense complemented the festive flowers laid on Andrewes’ tomb.

The service was traditional, yes, but still a statement of the Cathedral’s commitment to being “inclusive: faithful: radical.”

The Revd. Duncan Dormor, General Secretary of the United Society of Partners in the Gospel, a mission society founded in 1701 and still very much so active in the Anglican world, offered the sermon. Prompted by the query of a Filipino Baptist, he asked what it means to be an Anglican today. How could an institution that had defended and spread the Empire act as a force of good, now, after the end of the age of imperialism and in places that had both benefited from and been the victim of the Empire and of the Anglican church?

He found an answer in the theories and quiet, exemplary life of Lancelot Andrewes, and in the greeting found in 1 Peter. The Apostle credited his authority as a witness to the sufferings of Christ and as a partaker in the glory still being revealed. Sufferings and glory. In this balance of sorrow and joy, Dormor found a space for commonality across the Anglican world, but also across the whole of the Church. If we can share in the sufferings of Christians in war-torn nations and under the threat of global injustice or political oppression, we must also share in the joys of the church triumphant, resistant, and resistant. Sufferings and glory, a middle way. Just as Bishop Andrewes personally navigated and expressed a middle way between the Puritanical Reformers and the Roman Catholics of his era, we can find a middle way that brings together and, hopefully, unites.

Dormor could not have issued a more perfect proclamation for Sheelu and me. Tonight (Tuesday,) at dinner, Archbishop Welby mentioned that 1 Peter is the book around which Lambeth 2020 will be centered, and he hopes that the Community will play a major, prayerful, and practical role in the conference. In fact, ecumenism is a driving force for the Archbishop and much of the work done here at Lambeth, the Community included. Even on its own, however, Dormor’s hope for a re-purposed and reclaimed Anglican church called to my Sri Lankan sister and me. On the walk home and over dinner, she kept wondering, could he have known we were there? We are both members of the Anglican Communion — she was born into it, in a corner of the Globe where Christians are murdered en masse for their faith; I chose it, in a country where we are free to worship and to be bold and progressive in who we welcome — but we found one another because we left our homes and our traditions and sought a different way.

To be honest with you, my friends, these first weeks at Lambeth Palace and the Community have featured waves of culture shock. While my Siblings from the Global South and warmer climes have been dealing with cold and wet, I have felt often unfettered and out of place — theologically, for the most part, as if the conversations around me were an ill-fitting garment. The Anglican church thinks and acts differently, here in England, I am learning, but our Dean has assured me that he does not want to re-make me in that image, but help me become more rooted in the tradition that inspires me and in the understanding of God’s love that encourages me. That said, this sermon, of unity but also of the need to address the societal sins that caused the divisions originally, seemed completely comfortable, in that it called to me in a voice I understood and still shook me to think differently. It seemed like a dream offered with eyes wide open. A statement of both heart and mind. An awareness of suffering and joy.

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“I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it” – As You Like It

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When we set out, we only expected Sheelu to join me at the Cathedral, but to save me from spending my afternoon alone — her not having to walk back by herself, along most of South Bank, was just an added bonus — she reluctantly bought a ticket. Much to her shock and my immense pleasure, she was hooked as soon as the brass band started up. Rocking sunglasses, plumed helmets, and neon knee-socks, the band turned all of us into one body, willing to dance and clap and shout together. We were all hooked.

Since 1997, the “reconstructed” Shakespeare’s Globe has produced plays, often with the intent of recreating — or an interpretation of — original practices. For the current version of Midsummer, some actors wore deconstructed doublets with asymmetrical ruffs and there was an appropriate amount of fake blood bandied about, but Early Modern audiences would have only recognized the writing and the cast’s willingness to adapt lines and improvise. Instead of recreating the environment of the Elizabethan stage, this cast recreated the atmosphere.

Loud, bawdy, bloody, musical, satirical, political, insult-laden, athletic, sexy, full of slapstick…at times both heart-wrenching and romantic…I think groundlings of any time period would have been pleased.

The captured Queen Hippolyta arrived in a large, taped-up cardboard box and read her praises for her future husband, Theseus, off of poster boards (think Love Actually) and through gritted death. Later, she was dressed up in a mint green coat and flowered hat…very Elizabethan in a more modern way…and eventually donned a hunting gilet, carried a shotgun, and dragged an entire stuffed dear around the stage. The same actress, doubled for Titania, entered the yard on a Mardi Gras float, complete with umbrellas, feathers, and fairies dressed like cartoon monsters. Later, she would court Bottom, a beribboned-piñata-come-to-life, in a flowery industrial dumpster instead of a bower. Oberon, played by a wizeneded little man, looked like a gilded Mardi Gras Indian with electric blue hair, and Puck was played by…everyone…the Athenian lovers in shirts spray-painted PUCK…rude mechanicals in the same PUCK shirts…even the royal court eventually.

Just as Hippolyta became a commentary on women’s agency (the Amazon Queen roared and grunted where Shakespeare gave her no lines,) and on the current royal family, the Athenians’ also delivered their lines and insults with a contemporary edge. Lysander seemed shocked when he called Hermia “Ethiope,” (both actors are of African descent and Lysander spoke in a West African language when overwhelmed,) and Helena seemed disgusted by her ‘I am your spaniel’ speech to Demetrius. Yet, she still ended up on all fours and barking like a dog, so that the “updates” added to the humor, instead of diverting from the Bard’s original comedic intent.

Most importantly, however, it was hilarious. Whether lovers were whizzing through their vows, mechanicals were rapping and making rude jokes about Pyramus and Thisbe, or fairies were wielding blow darts and bubble machines, it was all done with a spirit of love, camaraderie, and revelry. As Sheelu said a few times on our way back to Lambeth, I didn’t want it to end.

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends

Epilogue, A Midsummer Night’s Dream