A friend of mine who knows of my love for the mass, who knows that I am little more than a bastard evangelical longing for rough hewn liturgy, recently sent me the best gift I have ever received. It arrived unceremoniously in an Amazon.com mailer—my very own book of Common Prayer.
The morning prayers set the table for daily bread. Often, they begin with a focal point, a point of human triumph or failure. The reflections direct our thoughts to that which has changed and remind us of that which has not. They remind us of those catalytic moments in human history when the saints collectively bowed as one interceding body.
**Today I’m writing over at A Deeper Story. Continue reading there.