Last week, on Palm Sunday, Jael and I were in Copenhagen, Denmark. We decided to go to St. Alban's Anglican Church because it is one of the few English language churches in Copenhagen and it was also easily accessible by public transport.
Somehow, I managed to only get one picture of the church. I blame it all on Jael. She was a very bad influence, photography-wise, because she kept interrupting my picture-taking by saying things like "Now we're late for church!" and "If you don't hurry up, we're going to miss our train. Again."
She was a real kill-joy to have along.
St. Alban's was built in 1887 and is right on the Baltic Sea. It is just a few hundred yards from the statue of the Little Mermaid, from Hans Christian Andersen's famous story. I never actually saw the statute, though, if you can believe it. We missed it because of Jael's insistence that we get to church in a timely fashion. I mean, really!
St. Alban's is part of the Diocese of Europe for the Anglican Church. It is officially under the authority of the English Crown. In fact, the week before Jael and I went, Prince Charles and his wife visited the church, officially, in honor of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. (You can see the pictures
here. The official church website is
here. And you can read a little history of the church
here.)
We went on April 1st, which was Palm Sunday. Apparently, the church has a tradition, on this holiday, of having all of the congregants go outside the building to sing the first hymn, and do the first prayer, before proceeding back into the church while waving palm fronds. Since the temperature was about 35 degrees and it was very windy, this ended up being kind of inconvenient.
The church service, itself, ran a little differently than the Anglican service I attended when I was
in Prague over Christmas. For one thing, in Prague, there were some American accents and lots of foreign accents (such as French folks who apparently found it easier to follow an English language service than a Czech one). In Copenhagen, perhaps because of its proximity to England and the amount of business done between the two nations, there was a much larger crowd (I didn't get an accurate count because there was a separate little wing with seating that I didn't get a chance to count but I would guess that there were 50 or more people in attendance) and everyone I heard had one of several regional English accents.
The service also seemed much more fancy and "high-churchey". The Rev. Ricky, in Prague, seemed pretty easy-going, his wife played the organ, and that was about as much as went on. In Copenhagen, there were a lot more folks to keep track of. There were what I assume are the Anglican equivalent of alter boys, in addition to the choir. There was the guy in charge of the service (in the same role, I think, as Rev. Ricky), wearing the white robes with the collar and fancy tie-thing--I looked it up on the website and he (Jonathan Lloyd) is an Archdeacon, and also a Chaplain, which jobs I did not know could go together. Though, to be fair, I am not that up on my Anglican polity. There was also an Assistant Priest who was wearing the white robe over the black robes. When we were leaving, Jael said "He has such floppy English hair!" (and he totally did--he reminded me of a 1990s Hugh Grant). However, he is, apparently, from the Scottish Episcopal Church and his name is Fr Gottfried Grunewald, which doesn't sound particularly English, so he must have gotten the hair by osmosis. Then, there was a lady who was dressed in blue robes with a fancy hood down the back. She helped with passing the wine around during communion (they had a communal cup and she was in charge of wiping the rim between folks) and perhaps she was a trainee of some kind? I have never seen robes like that in the few Anglican services I have been to. She might have been the Parish Deacon (perhaps they serve different roles there). There was, additionally, according to the order of worship, a president. I don't know what office that is and couldn't find an explanation on the internet but, from what I could tell, she was the one who was actually broke the bread and blessed the communion table. According to the website, she is a "Reverend Canon" (another office with which I am unfamiliar) and is Diocesan Director of Training. Everyone bowed toward the altar, when passing in front of it, which might be an Anglican thing, although I had always equated it more withe the Roman Catholic church. A few people in the congregation crossed themselves while the blessings on the elements were being read but they may have actually been Catholics who just wanted to go to an English service and I forgot to notice how many fingers they used to do it.
There wasn't a sermon. Instead, they had a dramatic reading of Mark's account of the Passion of Christ. All of the people doing the reading had very plummy English accents which was kind of fun. (The church website lists a "Licensed Reader" as a part of their Ministry Team). I did keep the church bulletin as it has a devotional on the front page. It is a devotional produced by the official Anglican publishing house. To give you a little taste, I will just include a quote from the bulletin, which is entitled "The Glory of the Cross":
"This week, we see what it is to be God. . . God does not wash his hands of creation, disclaiming responsibility. And he does not bring it to an abrupt end and start again with something less creative, less risky. Instead, God redefines everything it is to be God; he comes to live in the world that he and we have made between us, and to die the death that such a world entails. And in this, he shows his power. This is God, taking the blame -- although most of it belongs to us, God shoulders it, as the one who allowed this possibility in the first place.
"This is what we choose. We choose a world in which we will have control, even over God, even if that means death. And God, who gave us that power of choice, accepts what he has done. He bows to our power."
Jael and I did some quiet gasping.
