Gordon Lathrop, Holy Things, VI

Continuing in chapter 3, the juxtaposition between teaching and bath, while it can involve much variation it its details, cannot be allowed to become a reason for division. The variants should be seen as variations on the basic theme of teaching and bath. The various ritual bits which surround the baptism should. Seen as explanatory rites (a term Lathrop does not use here for some reason, although his discussion makes it clear that he thinks of them in a similar light), they should point to the central juxtaposition, not to  themselves, and certainly not to be causes of arguments and divisions.

Gordon Lathrop, Holy Things, V

In Chapter 3 Lathrop introduces a new sort of juxtaposition: thanksgiving and lament. (I use "sort" deliberately. This juxtaposition does not work differently than the ones before, but it is a juxtaposition, not of acts or times, but of emotions.) Thanksgiving without lament is the proverbial ostrich: it pretends not to see anything that does not conform to its outlook. Lament without thanksgiving is despair: it cannot offer or even expect solutions to the situations which cause the problems.

Another juxtaposition Lathrop introduces here is related to entering the Christian community: teaching and washing. Typically, for most subjects, and currently for adults, the pattern is teaching, followed by a bath that supersedes any teaching. In some cases (such as teaching about the bath itself), though, the historical practice is reversed: the teaching follows the bath. This pattern is still used for infant baptism (and in some other cases where either the baptizand is not yet capable of receiving instruction, or the baptism is urgent and cannot be delayed).

Gordon Lathrop, Holy Things IV

The beginning of chapter two continues the idea of juxtaposition begun in the latter parts of chapter one. This juxtaposition, or things set beside each other (parabolein), or thrown together (symballein), Lathrop sees has happening in three ordines: the cycle of daily prayer, the weekly cycle, and within the Sunday morning service.

In the cycle of daily prayer, Lathrop notes that the times of prayer seem to suggest honoring the sun, but the content relativizes the role of the sun, and honors them by honoring their Creator.

In the weekly cycle, Lathrop notes that the main service of the week for Christians happens after the Sabbath, and thus, on the first day of the week, which is the first work day. Thus the new day of worship is not a day of rest. Furthermore, the first day is also the eighth day, and thus simultaneously the beginning of the week, outside the week, and the beginning of something beyond the week.

Within the Sunday service, Lathrop notes that the service of readings and prayers, which is derived in concept (if not in form) from synagogue services, is joined to a meal which was the particular service of Christian groups. Furthermore, this juncture seems to have happened because of concerns for the poor, who were (on the evidence of Paul) being neglected by the full, separate meals. Instead of a full meal with neglected or only ritual help of the poor, there is a ritual meal with a real donation to the poor.

The next main point that Lathrop makes, building on 19th century Lutheran scholars (especially Löhe), is that the liturgy on Sunday is double peaked, with both the word and the table as peaks. (This idea is one I've had, under a different metaphor, of "climaxes", drawing in my case not on mountain ranges but on drama.) Lathrop argues that each of these peaks is itself double peaked. The reading of scripture is not superior to the sermon, nor is the sermon over the reading. Likewise, in the liturgy of the table, the thanksgiving is not superior to the reception, nor the reception to the thanksgiving.

Gordon Lathrop, Holy Things, III

The next section of Gordon Lathrop's work Holy Things (which ends chapter 1) introduces his concept of the broken. In his usage, being broken involves using old material in a way that subverts conventional meaning. He compares this usage to Jesus' use of parables (and thus another term for the broken might be the parabolic). In both, old words, old stories, old images, and old acts are used to illustrate a significant point through juxtaposing them in a way that radically undercuts conventional expectations. Just as a fundamentally unclean Samaritan can be "good" while a priest and a Levite are not, so top can a Byzantine court ritual be used to pay homage to a book, even when it surrounds the reading of a passage emphasizing humility. Thus, even though liturgical words and acts can be themselves quite dated and conventional, they can speak anew to people today, and speak powerfully, most especially when they go against convention. To reduce them to convention, however, is to render them powerless.