And Also With You

There's an internet meme going around that is a joke about how you can tell Episcopalians, that when someone says "May the Force be with you," they respond, "And also with you".

The congregation gives this response three separate times during an ordinary Sunday service, so it's no wonder it's ingrained in us.  The first time is right before the Collect of the Day (that's the noun, COLL-ect, not the verb, col-LECT), a special prayer for that day.  The celebrant says "The Lord be with you," and the congregation says "And also with you," and the celebrant says "Let us pray," and then reads the Collect.

The second time is to kick off The Peace, which in my Mom's church is known as "Recess," the time when members of the congregation great each other, shake hands or sometimes hug, speak more informally, then, in our church, sit and listen to announcements before the more formal part of the liturgy begins again.  The priest who has been serving at our church this year as we search for a new Rector kicks The Peace off by moving out into the center of the sanctuary at the top of the stairs, not in the pulpit where he has just delivered his Sermon, not at the lectern where he read the Collect before, but right in the center, he raises his two arms up beside him (so his flowing robes, green and gold at this time of year, fall full and luxurious away from his arms), and he says with firm tones, "The Peace of the Lord be always with you," and the congregation replies as once, "And also with you!".  This one I always really feel.  We're greeting him as a man, and our words are to him, to include him as one of us.  Peace be with you, too!  I think this might be the only exchange that is so equal, him to us and us back again to him, and something about that makes it feel like a strong and happy declaration when I say it.

The third time is right at the beginning of the Eucharist service.  The Offertory (and its hymn, which is usually my offering because I am in the choir where the golden plates do not pass by) is over, and the Priest and Deacon and acolytes have moved back to the altar, and they are about to begin the ceremony, and here is how it starts, in a passage known as The Great Thanksgiving:

The people remain standing. The Celebrant, whether bishop or priest,
faces them and sings or says

                The Lord be with you.
People        And also with you.
Celebrant    Lift up your hearts.
People        We lift them to the Lord.
Celebrant    Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
People        It is right to give him thanks and praise.

(from the Book of Common Prayer Online)

Our former priest, and in fact most priests of my experience, intone these words forcefully, with joy, and they usually jump to the next line almost before the congration's reply is finished, so this really moves along.  We are a community, coming together to share this meal, but this time he is our leader, cheerleader, coach.  Let us, he says.  We should.  Now is the time to do this.  Everyone, after me!  It's a different "And also with you," than the other two.

After the Eucharist, when everyone is on their knees on the kneeler pads and quite and contemplative, and not really interacting with each other (as I've talked about before), the phrase does not come back again.  The last part of service begins with the Priest saying, "Let us pray", and then we say together, still kneeling, this final prayer:

Almighty and everliving God,we thank you for feeding us with the spiritual food of the most precious Body and Bloodof your Son our Savior Jesus Christ;and for assuring us in these holy mysteriesthat we are living members of the Body of your Son, and heirs of your eternal kingdom.And now, Father, send us outto do the work you have given us to do,to love and serve youas faithful witnesses of Christ our Lord.To him, to you, and to the Holy Spirit,be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen.

"Send us out to do the work you have given us to do," I hang out for these words, and I imagine myself spending the rest of my Sunday loving my neighbor and glorifying in the beauty of creation and maintaining my own health and the health and flourishing of the world.  

The very final part of the service, after the final anthem (and the choir recession when choir is in session, so by this time I am at the back of the church), the last words spoken to us come from the Deacon, not the Priest at all, and she reinforces that reminder to take the good we have experienced and received here, and go out to the world to do something good with it.

There are four possible versions, but our Deacon usually chooses this one:

Deacon      Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.
People        Thanks be to God.

Go in peace!  Which also sounds like something they would say in Star Wars.