"With order and decency": Archbishop Howley's defence of quiet, modest Prayer Book worship
Modest though such practices may have been when contrasted with the Anglo-Catholicism of coming decades, they did provoke intense debate and controversy, so much so that the Archbishop of Canterbury, William Howley, issued A Letter Addressed to the Clergy and Laity of his Province in 1845. In a previous post, laudable Practice praised Howley as embodying the wisdom, decency, and sobriety of the Old High tradition. His 1845 Letter exemplifies this.
He began by recognising that breaches of rubrics in parish worship - the "obsolete rubrics" mentioned by Nockles - had the sanction of long established practice:
It has long been observed that, in the performance of Divine Service in the generality of our parochial churches, there has been a deviation, in certain particulars, from the express directions of the Rubric, and that, in some cases, a difference in respect to the sense of the Rubric has led to a diversity in practice. In regard to such points, in themselves non-essential, the most conscientious clergymen have felt themselves justified in treading in the steps of their predecessors.
While also accepting that those clergy who were now imposing the rubrical directions in their fullness were "not less conscientious", Howley warned that such a determination - in things "non-essential" - disrupted the Church's peace and unity:
[it] is sometimes associated in the minds of the people with peculiarities of doctrine, and gives birth to suspicions and jealousies destructive of the confidence which should always subsist between the flock and their pastor.
He went on to give an significant defence of the laity's unease with such innovations:
In fairness to them we must allow, that this dislike of alterations in the manner of worship to which they have been accustomed from their infancy, proceeding, as it does, from attachment to the ordinances of the Church, ought not to be visited with unkindly censure; and we can hardly be surprised at any change being regarded with suspicion when so many attempts have been made to introduce innovations which are really objectionable, and tend, as far as they go, to alter the character of our Church.
What is more, a concern to impose and uphold all rubrics in parishes sat uneasily beside the Prayer Book's commitment to "the mean between two extremes, of too much stiffness in refusing, and of too much easiness in admitting any variation":
In such cases it may with some show of reason be said, that, as the eminent men to whom the several revisions of the Liturgy were successively entrusted, did not see the necessity of giving directions so precise as to ensure a rigid conformity in every particular, we may be contented to acquiesce in slight deviations from rule, suggested by convenience, and sanctioned by long usage.
To some extent, Howley's Letter stands as a reminder of what Victorian Anglicanism could have been: less divided and distracted by the Ritualist controversies; building upon rather than rejecting the strengths of Anglicanism during the 'long' 18th century; and more likely to preserve liturgical coherence and a generous but explicitly Protestant Episcopalian doctrinal identity.
Howley's Letter also continues to resonate. Its pastoral wisdom continues to have application. We might particularly note how it understands the concerns of the laity regarding liturgical changes imposed by clergy and points to the dangers posed by the ruptures which can accompany liturgical revision.
Finally, we might also see Howley as here demonstrating how Old High could become 'New Low', the ordinary Prayer Book worship of the ordinary parish, inherited from 18th century Anglicanism, captured by William Teulon Blandford Fletcher in his 1897 painting 'Sacrament Sunday'. The contrast with the Ritualist manual Directorium Anglicanum (1858) was, to the say the least, stark. Howley (who died in 1848) would have been appalled by Directorium Anglicanum and its rejection of the quiet order and modest decency of Prayer Book worship, which had been long known in parishes, nurturing, sustaining, guiding, and comforting generations in the Faith. It was that quiet order and modest decency, the 'New Low', and the peace and concord which it expressed, which Howley wisely and thoughtfully defended, even as the first stirrings of Ritualism brought controversy and division.
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