By: Dr.Rian Adams
Liturgy… The first time I walked into an Episcopal church, I was confused, enchanted, and a little nervous I might accidentally pledge my life to something in Latin.
People stood. Then sat. Then knelt. Then said something in unison. A bell rang and someone bowed. There were candles, robes, and a feeling—an ancient one. I didn’t fully understand it, but I felt it. A deep, sacred rhythm that had been moving long before I got there.
That’s liturgy.
So... What Is Liturgy?
“Liturgy” comes from a Greek word meaning the work of the people. But don’t let the fancy etymology scare you. Liturgy simply refers to the structured, rhythmic way we worship. Think choreography, but holy. A sacred script that invites us into something bigger than ourselves.
At St. James, that looks like prayers from the Book of Common Prayer, ancient songs, readings from Scripture, and shared sacraments. We’re not making it up as we go. We're entering something time-tested and deeply rooted.
In a liturgical church, you're not just attending worship. You're participating in it—body, mind, and soul.
A Brief (and Sometimes Hilarious) History of Liturgy
Our liturgy didn’t pop out of nowhere in 1979 with the latest edition of the BCP. Its roots stretch back to the earliest Christians gathering in homes, breaking bread, and reciting Psalms. The basic shape—read Scripture, say prayers, share communion—has remained remarkably stable for nearly two millennia.
In the fourth century, incense was added because someone realized worship should smell like heaven. In medieval England, they rang bells so loudly during the Eucharist that birds flew out of the rafters—and people genuinely loved it.
In France, one monastic community in the 12th century used puppets to reenact Gospel stories during liturgy. (Yes, you read that right. Puppet Mass. Look it up. It’s delightfully weird.)
The point is: liturgy has always evolved while staying grounded. It’s ancient, yes. But it’s not dusty. It’s alive.
Scripture Is the Backbone
One of the most common myths about liturgical churches is that we don’t “preach the Bible.” Let’s clear that up with holy clarity.
We read four passages of Scripture every Sunday:
A Hebrew Bible reading
A Psalm (sung or said)
A New Testament epistle
A Gospel reading
Then we preach from that whole arc—not just one verse cherry-picked out of context.
In other traditions, it's common to hear a ten-minute devotional on a single sentence of Paul. That can be great. But our approach is shaped by the full breadth of Scripture, anchored in the lectionary, which walks us through the entire story of salvation over three years.
It’s not about finding our favorite verses. It’s about letting the whole Word of God read us.
Rite II: More Bible Than You Might Expect
Even the words we say in our prayers are steeped in Scripture. Did you know that approximately 75% of Rite II in the Book of Common Prayer is either a direct biblical quote or a clear paraphrase?
And our Eucharistic prayers?
Prayer A is 68% Scripture
Prayer B is 71% Scripture
When we pray, we’re praying with the voices of the prophets, apostles, and psalmists. Their words become our words.
So no, it’s not “just ritual.” It’s rooted. It’s real. It’s alive with Scripture from beginning to end.
Yes, You Might Get Lost the First Time. It’s Okay.
Nobody expects you to walk in and know when to stand, sit, cross yourself, or say “And also with you.” Most of us fumbled through our first few services.
There’s no Liturgical Olympics. You won’t be judged on form.
Eventually, the rhythm gets into your bones. You’ll know when to kneel. You’ll find the beauty in the silence. You’ll notice your soul humming along to ancient cadences. And when the priest lifts up the bread and says, “Do this in remembrance of me,” something in you will say yes—even if you can’t explain why.
Come and See
If you're tired of being entertained but never transformed…
If you crave depth, beauty, and Scripture that speaks instead of shouts…
If you want a worship life that is rooted, sacred, and full of mystery…
You might belong in a liturgical church.
And if you’re anywhere near the Florida Panhandle, you’ll find that at St. James.
Just come as you are. Let the liturgy carry you. We’ve got space for you in the pews—and in the story of God.