Background to the Daily Office
Images of God
This kind of spirituality uses two different approaches to imagining God, simultaneously. Just as scientists say there is no way to really understand what's going on inside atoms, they still use the drawing of atoms with little circles even though the insides of atoms don’t actually look like that. In the same way I know a great deal about my spouse, but I know I will never know what it's really like to be him or her from the inside. The same is true of this understanding of God.
Sometimes this type of spirituality imagines that God is a human-like cosmic being (God talks, acts, and reacts rather like a human would). At the same time we know that this is only an image, like a brush-stroke, pointing in the direction of a deep reality we can never describe. In prayer and meditation we use both those approaches simultaneously—the simple idea of God as a supreme person keeps us grounded in the reality of God, and the knowledge that we can not begin to understand or describe God keeps us from imaging that God is something as small as a divine being rather like a very very big human.
The unique Jewish idea of God
The most fundamental quality of this deep reality (sometimes called “The All”, or “The Holy”, or just “God”) is its commitment to justice. Or, to put it another way, God can be imagined as the force of justice operating throughout the universe. By “justice” the Bible means the call for every person without exception, and every creature, perhaps even every physical object, to be treated with dignity and to be completely fulfilled. The ultimate level of fulfillment of a human person is to be calling for such justice for all. Some of us do that in obvious ways around social justice issues, others around the creation of beauty, or the wise management of systems, or in public leadership or in meditation on the deep goodness of the cosmos, or in other ways.
It appears that the ancient Jews, around 500 B.C., were the first to fully articulate this absolute priority of justice. Their insight arose from their political history in which, while being a very small culture, they experienced themselves being rescued from slavery in their escape from the super-power of Egypt in their ancient past, and again in their release around 500 B.C. from the later super-power of Babylon, in what is now Iraq, Their interpretation of these two events was that because they were a very small insignificant country, the only motivation God could have had to make those escapes happen must have been because God is absolutely committed to justice for all, whether powerful or not. They described God's fundamental quality as "justice", which is often mis-translated into English as "righteousness.” So wherever you see the word "righteousness" in an English translation of the Bible it's important to substitute the word "justice" (meaning “dignity and fulfillment for all,” and not “punishment” or “retribution”). In the Bible and in our thought about God, and about human behaviour, “justice” always means “inclusion and fulfillment and dignity.” So a phrase such as “the God of justice” always means “the God of inclusion and fulfillment and dignity for all.” Especially for those who don’t yet have dignity.
The ancient Jews understood there were two implications of God's commitment to this kind of justice: personal and political.
God’s call to personal justice
First, on the personal level, the ancient Jews understood they were called to treat everyone, even non-Jews, with justice. That's why in Judaism nobody is allowed to work on Saturdays—the day when God completed creating the universe as a perfect place to live—because when you have to work you are someone's slave,. Or you make someone your slave. Even animals are not allowed to work on Saturdays because animals were not created by God to be anyone's slave—God created animals to be just what they are. So one day a week, every week, God's justice is totally enacted and an ox gets to be exactly what an ox is, and do whatever an ox wants to do—oxen were never created to be slaves to humans. This is a wonderful vision of what the world is about! There is even a modern application which in a humorous way illustrates how totally Judaism understands God’s intention for inclusive justice. In cities where there are significant numbers of Jews some elevators are programmed on Saturdays to stop at every floor on their way up and down so that it is not necessary to press a button to call the elevator or to stop at the floor you need to go to. Because that way the elevator gets to do what elevators presumably like to do—to stop at every floor! Even the elevator is not your slave! A good reminder in our time that treating the planet as our slave is a sure way to disaster—we won't be fulfilled if the planet isn't.
Political justice and the Sabbath no-work rule
So the ancient Jews decided that once a week, on Saturdays (the day that the creation of the world was complete), justice would be enacted in every single aspect of life. And they still do. It’s a remarkable enactment of God’s love put into action as justice (as fulfillment). That’s the personal level of justice. On the political level, which was just as important, the ancient Jews understood that God would ultimately enable justice to be the norm in all human society. So every seven years (a sort of year-long Saturday) or every 49 years (seven sevens) all accumulated wealth would be re-distributed to everyone regardless of the consequences. So, if your grandfather had sold his land 40 years ago to pay taxes because he was too sick to farm, then every 49th year you got your land back for free. This is the origin of Jubilee—the 50th year (the first year of the redistribution). It's a glorious celebration that the poorest and most oppressed again become full participants in society.
The implications of injustice
The ancient Jews were well aware that they didn't always do this successfully. They knew that there were social consequences for not enacting this justice just as we know in the modern world that there are dire consequences to a country arising from extreme economic disparity and injustice. The ancient Jews attributed the consequent disasters to God, because if God did nothing about injustice and oppression, then God wouldn't be on the side of justice. So, even though it sounds sometimes as if God is angry with people, the ancient Jews were really saying that there are consequences for treating anyone with oppression and not caring about those without dignity. That’s as true today as it was then.
Hope for the end of injustice, and the start of Christianity
The ancient Jews also experienced themselves as being the objects of injustice by super-powers such as Egypt, or Greece, or in the time of Jesus, Rome) oppressing and exploiting them. As a result they developed an image of the "messiah" who would finally enact justice for the entire planet. After Jesus’ death and resurrection, Jews who were impressed by Jesus added one final wrinkle to these images of God. They understood that for justice to happen, each of us has to make significant sacrifices. Those with power have to sacrifice some of their power for the poor and oppressed in order for them to become full participants and receive dignity. These early followers of Jesus recognized that it is the reluctance to make such sacrifices which prevents justice from actually happening in both individual relationships as well as in political and cultural and global community. The early Christians also understood that if justice is the foundational reality of the universe, then that foundational reality must itself be capable of making sacrifices, if needed, to implement justice on a cosmic scale. Otherwise that deep reality wouldn't really be just.
The Christian understanding of the end of injustice
That meant that the deep reality ("God" in a simpler image) must be capable of making a sacrifice for justice to happen. So they interpreted Jesus' death as a symbol of that ultimate commitment to justice on the part of God. It was God (not just Jesus) dying in order that justice be actually enacted. Subsequently, Christianity became a spiritual practice of calling to that deep justice—to its character of joyful sacrifice as a way of enacting justice—to become our own personal character. And for that character of deep justice to become the character of our political and social community. Christianity became a way of life in which people lived in the constant expectation that justice was about to break through both at the personal level and at the social and political levels. This wasn't a naive delusion, but a commitment to justice being the ultimate reality.
How do we commit ourselves to that priority of justice at both levels?
That’s what the spiritual practice of the Daily Office is designed to accomplish.
The theory behind the spiritual practice of the Daily Office is to expose ourselves to those realities of justice and our commitment to it, at the start of every day. The practice takes about 15 minutes when you are familiar with the mechanics. There are traditionally some set prayers and three readings.
Psalms
The first reading is always a psalm (or two if one is short). The psalms date from around 500 BC, or earlier, and were free-form poems to be sung, rather like hymns. The poetry uses rhymes but not the audible rhymes as in English poetry. The rhymes are meaning-rhymes. The first half of a verse makes a statement, and the second half says the same thing from an additional perspective. It's like layers of paint in a picture: the first half of the verse paints the outline, the second half gives tones and variations.
The psalms are in no particular order, and the topics vary enormously. Some are desperate calls for help when justice seems impossible. Some are violent—we interpret those as being our absolute rejection of injustice at all levels—our intense desire that all evil come to an end immediately. Some are meditations on "righteousness" which is the English mis-translation of "justice", some are imaginative re-telling of the story of the escape from Egypt, some are poems of delight and fulfillment. We read them to enter deeply into the experiences of what it's like to long for justice, to be committed to it, and to rejoice when it happens. There are 150 of these poems, and in the Daily Office we read them in a 14-week cycle, one or two per day.
The Hebrew Bible reading
The second reading is from the rest of the Hebrew Bible (what we used to call the "Old Testament"). This is a two-year cycle in which we read almost the entire Hebrew Bible. In one year the historical section in the summer is about how the Israelites escaped from Egypt and entered the promised land and in the following year the historical section is about how the people chose kings and how the kings ruled for five hundred years until the country was destroyed by the Babylonians.
Each year we also read from books which are meditative and thoughtful and poetic.
The Gospel reading
The third reading is from one of the four gospels (descriptions of the life of Jesus)—we read through all four gospels each year to experience what Jesus was saying and doing in his vision of justice and its requirements. Note that these readings of all four gospels are not in the same sequence as the Sunday morning gospel readings which read one gospel each year.)
In the first half of the year from Christmas through Easter and Pentecost when we are focusing on specific aspects of the life of Jesus, the readings don’t follow their Biblical order, but are chosen to describe some aspect of Jesus' life. The major events are Christmas (which is understood as a symbol of how justice enters the world), and of Jesus' crucifixion and resurrection (around Easter) as an experience of how God’s commitment to justice is experienced and fulfilled in our lives. In the rest of the year we read through the gospels without interruption.
The prayers
These three readings are set inside a structure of prayers, some of which change each week, as well as some that don't change, as well as places where you use your own prayers. The format of this practice was first developed in the mid 1500's when an archbishop of Canterbury wanted to invent a spiritual practice that anyone could use. He abbreviated the eight services which the monks had used every day for centuries, and combined parts of those services into two brief services—one for the morning and one for the evening— that could be used by laity. Anglican clergy have traditionally used both services every day of their lives.
I recommend the morning one to lay people as a way of focusing our spiritual journey. The name of the practice is "Daily Office". "Office" has nothing to do with the modern word "office". It's an old usage which means "official"—this is an "official" spiritual practice which many people are doing at exactly the same around the world every day. In other words, it is the spiritual practice of a community of people who do it knowing others are also doing it simultaneously.
We are also encouraged to do our own personal private spiritual practice in addition, such as meditation or whatever is helpful, but the Office is a community spirituality. Community spirituality is important because justice always leads to inclusion. Doing an "official" practice keeps us from becoming self-centred in our spirituality by just picking practices that appeal to us but don’t connect us to people who have different preferences.
There is no expectation that everyone should engage in this practice. It's an invitation if it makes sense and is helpful. Be sure to adjust how many prayers and how many readings you use so it doesn't become a burden. The purpose is to do it in a way that you are wondering what God may say to you each day, not as a way of proving how spiritual we are!
© Harold Munn, 2021