I was asked to give a “prepper” about the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, for those who are not as familiar with this beautiful and unique service, that is only ever served in Great Lent, or might not a clue about what is done, and why it is done. Indeed if a person who only ever went to Church on a Sunday (or any time) but then showed up at a Presanctified Liturgy, they would be really confused. Why are people prostrating, going on their knees, Why is there so much silence and muted hymns?

Well a lot of this has to do with the general characteristic of Great Lent is somewhat penitential in context – especially on the weekdays when this service is offered (normally on Wednesdays and Fridays). Indeed, Great Lent is a season that highlights humanities fallen state. The work of fasting, prayer, and works of charity, which we are called to do, are meant to put aside those distractions that veil the problems of sin and death – it is a time were we like Adam and Eve, realise we are naked of any virtue and meaning. To emphasise this, the serving of Divine Liturgies on weekdays are prohibited, as the Divine Liturgy is festive and resurrectional, both in character and content (Liturgies are still served on Saturday and Sunday yet with reference to the work of the fast). This being said, there always existed in the Church an understanding that the Eucharist (the Body and Blood of the Lord), was a necessity in the work of bearing those fruits of repentance  So what could be done that reflected penitential characteristic of Great Lent, and the importance of frequent common to realise this ? 

The solution was to serve a Vespers with a few extra prayers, and commune the faithful from the gifts (the offered bread and wine) that was previously consecrated or sanctified at the previous Liturgy – thus the name “pre – sanctified”. This service is commonly attributed to St. Gregory I, Pope of Rome (also called the “dialogiest” because he wrote four dialogues about Church life). There are some disagreements about whether he composed it, or just recorded it while serving as the papal legate in Constantinople in the early 7th century – yet it really doesn’t matter because the important thing is that, in this service, there was a way in which the faithful could participate in the Eucharistic life of the Church, and be strengthened and inspired in their fasting, prayer and acts of charity. 

Some might wonder if this service was a way of “getting around the rule” of not having a Divine Liturgies on weekdays… Well, if the Church really wanted to have a Liturgy during the week, they would have made it happen – rather than beat around the bush. Instead, this service is an expression that the Euchrist is a vital element in our ability to fast, pray and offer works of charity – as such the Presanctified Liturgy is a beautiful accommodation that respects the penitential character of  this season, while at the same time respecting that we need to participate in the Eucharist to assist us in this difficult journey – and it is/should be difficult. What is remarkable, is that this particular service in many respects is a snapshot of our Lenten labours and struggles. The colours are dark, hymns are penitential, the music is as mournful as our realisation that we are sinful, broken, and mortal people. Yet (and it is big “Yet”) in the midst of it all, there is the very real sacramental presence of the Lord Himself – His Body and His Blood – that conveys life itself to the faithful, even as we are stretching to understand and live it through our fasting, prayers, and works of charity.

This sacramental presence, of the Body and Blood of the Lord, in the consecrated bread and wine, at this service, indeed shapes how we ought to act during the service. For the first few weeks of Great Lent, I generally serve with the royal doors of the Iconostas open, so that the faithful can see (as best as they can) how reverently the priests, deacons and servers conduct themselves during the service. The prostrations, the slow methodical movements, censings, set the standard of how we should react to such a profound mystery.

During the singing of the beautiful hymn of  “Let my prayer arise…” ( Ps. 141) it is the tradition that the faithful (like the clergy in the sanctuary) lower themselves to their knees (in some Churches, they even prostrate). This hymn is followed by the prayer of St. Ephraim which is the prayer par excellence of Great Lent, where, following every verse, we do a full prostration (fall down on all fours, with head to the floor).  After the first Old Testament reading, the second prokeminon is sung, and then the priest turns and stands towards the faithful with a candle and censer in hand and intones “the Light of Christ, Ilumens all” –

At this, the faithful again do a full prostration; a response to the principle that we can only understand all of the Old Testament, and indeed these lenten labours, through Him who is the Light (Jn. 8:12). After the readings and some prayers, there is the Great Entrance, where the Body and Blood of the Lord are processed to the Altar. This is of great solemnity, where no one has their back to the gifts (even the servers, and deacons walk backwards, always facing the priest who carries the gifts). This is done in silence, with no commemorations, and everyone fully prostrates  in awe, that “Now the Powers of Heaven invisibly with us do serve. Lo, the King of glory enters. Lo, the mystical sacrifice is upborne, fulfilled” (the hymn of the entrance). Following this, there is again, the prayer of St. Ephraim is said, with the appropriate prostrations.  

Please know that I more than realise that there are some people who might be able to go down to be on their knees, or to make a prostration – yet can’t get up! There might be some who are stuck in pews – where making a prostration is really impractical; or they are some who feel really uncomfortable with kneeling, or doing a prostration, as they don’t understand it. This is all more than understandable. As such, a deep bow, or a revernace (bowing the head) is more than sufficient in recognizing that something special is happening.  

Indeed something special and miraculous is happening! The involvement of our body through kneeling and prostrations truly reflects this and reveals that all this is very real, and not just a mental exercise. For the Lord is acting to save us, He is acting to feed us. If we can see and physically respond to what is offered and expressed in the Presanctified Liturgy, then we have a better chance to see that our fasting, praying and offering acts of charity are meant to be very real – something more than a mental exercise.

By the prayers and intercessions of St. Gregory Dialogos, Pope of Rome, may we be strengthened in our lenten journey as a people who think, feel and do, and not just think and feel.