Hither by thine help I've come

Yesterday was second Easter, which means that it was the 10th liturgical anniversary of when I joined Christ Church Wellesley, the church I attended throughout college.

My first Sunday of college, in September 2012, I was too shy to call a local church for a ride, so I looked at the UMCs nearby and chose to visit the one that was closest on foot. By a very narrow margin, that was Christ Church. (I very rarely walked to church again because within a few weeks, half a dozen people had either given me a ride to/from church or had offered did.) I had no idea at the time where that walk would lead me. Christ Church was more than an order of magnitude smaller than the congregations in which I'd grown up, and it was struggling, though it took me the better part of a year to realize that. But it felt like home, and it came to feel like family.

CCUM taught me to bear weight. It taught me what it meant to live up to my mentorship vows in a church that needed me to do so. It was where I learned Taize songs, where I realized that I found more joy in teaching than in engineering, where the seeds of how I live as a queer person in the church were planted, where I became involved with the business and politics of the church and the Church, where someone first let me sing tenor in a choir, where I preached for the first time (and the second, and the third). It was where I learned what God's yes feels like.

Table of Grace

It's pretty normal for Ash Wednesday services to include the Eucharist as well as imposition of ashes, but the particular order of service at my church tonight stood out to me. We confessed, blessed the ashes, and then before imposition of ashes, spoke and sang the Great Thanksgiving. We came forward to receive ashes and then went straight to the table to receive communion. I had noticed when reading the bulletin before service that this would be the case, but it didn't really sink in until I took communion.

For *All* the Saints

This is a re-post of something I wrote two years ago. I started to write this story again today and then realized that I had, in fact, already written it.

This year, this is in memory of both Charlotte and Lindsey, who confirmed and strengthened me in the faith in the simple and quiet ways.

For all the saints who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confess,
Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
- William W. How

Daily Prayer Resources

This is a set of resources for establishing a practice of daily prayer, especially morning and evening prayer.

The first section has prayers and prayer services. Many of them are written to be done communally but can also be done individually. The second section has resources for various elements of a prayer service, like readings or Prayers of the People.

The last two sections are more relevant to individual reading and prayer. The third section has suggestions for how to choose shorter texts to focus on, and the fourth section has suggestions for daily prayer focuses or short daily prayers.

Link Dump, Recent Reading: Early June 2016

A few links from what I was reading in late May and early June!

Jeremy Steele on hope and the UMC
Was beautiful, actually made me cry.

April Fiet's Trinity Sunday sermon about the difficulty of trying to understand the Trinity and the point of Trinity Sunday.
This. Just all of this. Love talking about the white paraments and looking directly into the sun. Love the focus on community and light. Love ending up talking about singing.

Morning and Evening Methodist Prayer
This delights me. I've been singing the Psalms with the Seedbed metrical psalter instead of just reading them, and some of the time I've used the Prayers of the People booklet I made a while ago to do the intercession bit of the prayer service. I also love that it incorporates Wesley hymns, most of which I've never seen before. (I do wish they came with tunes/suggestions for tunes, though. Sometimes I can figure out a reasonable meter to use, and sometimes it's much harder.)

Link Dump: Recent Reading, May 2016

It's been a while since I did a links post, but there are a couple of things I wanted to share, so here's what I've been reading lately.

The past couple of weeks have been General Conference, which I've followed pretty closely, so a lot of what I've read for the past couple of weeks has been about goings on at GC.

Short summary: it's been rough. There are still some things from GC that I want to share.

First, Bishop Gregory Palmer gave the Episcopal Address. Bishop Palmer spoke at New England Annual Conference last year, and it was incredible. This address was, as well. The text is here, but if you have the time, I'd really recommend listening to it; here's the video. I love what he says about humility and about prayer, and then there's this: "Everyone here is a child of God; hard stop; period. Any behavior to the contrary of that truth undermines the Gospel and a choice to live beneath our privilege."

I also really appreciated this blog post by Rev. Katie Dawson from a couple of days ago. This was written after the body had asked the Council of Bishops to come up with a proposal for moving forward but before the bishops had come back with a statement. The post talks about blessing in unity and blessing despite separation, and it ends with excerpts from the covenant prayer. Yes.

Quick squee: we are now in full communion with the Moravian Church! (And also the Uniting Church of Sweden.)

Not related to General Conference: This article appeared in the Boston Globe, and it's about Sanctuary United Church of Christ in West Medford, MA. It's beautifully written, and it's so true to the stories I have heard and lived of Mainline churches in New England.

O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing

Written for today's service at church, which was led by the graduating seniors.

I believe in singing our faith.

I believe in singing the Psalms, the ancient songs of anger, lament, and praise. In the Psalms we sing with David, sing with the Jewish people on the way to the festivals, sing with a people in exile. Sing with a people who know that God is still with them and God is still for them.

I believe in singing the songs that the church has raised together through history. ``Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might." ``Glory be to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit." ``Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy."

I believe in singing the songs of the great hymn writers. Proclaiming God as a mighty fortress with Martin Luther. Rejoicing with God's saints with Fred Pratt Green. Believing in the promise of new life that God alone can see with Natalie Sleeth. Calling a thousand tongues to sing our Redeemer's praise with Charles Wesley. Being assured with Fanny Crosby that this is our story and our song.

I believe in singing the hymns that tell the old, old story of Jesus and his love. I believe in singing songs that work on us, that lead us back to God when we are lost, lead us to God as revealed in Scripture and God working in the world. In the times when I have most questioned the importance of Scripture, it was hymnody that helped me state my faith, hymnody that helped me grow, hymnody that brought me back to belief in the word of God as a firm foundation for faith. Even in our doubt -- especially in our doubt -- singing shapes us.

I believe in singing the songs of the seasons. I believe in singing the songs of a people waiting for a savior, of God Incarnate born to a young woman, of Jesus blessing, breaking, and giving bread. Songs of our mourning beneath the cross, our rejoicing at the empty tomb. Receiving the Holy Spirit. Being sent forth. And once again, waiting -- waiting for Christ who will come again.

I believe in singing the songs of the sacraments. I believe in singing songs of new life and baptism, recognizing that God claims us and that we are children of blessing and promise, proclaiming that children belong among us. I believe in singing songs of Christ welcoming us to God's table, of God meeting us in bread and cup, of being made one with Christ and one with each other.

I believe in singing as we work, singing as we wait, singing as we watch, singing through dim and bright.

I believe, above all of this, in singing the songs together. Building up each other's voices. Teaching each other to sing. Singing for each other when we falter.

We are bound together by Christ's death and resurrection. We are a thousand voices, but we are one Church. There is one bread, one Body, one Lord of all.


That is why we sing.

To Tell the Old, Old Story

I love to tell the story, 'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and his love.

On the night of April 2nd, two friends and I held Easter vigil at school, starting at sunset and going a bit past sunrise on Easter morning. We were all exhausted by the end of Easter, but holding vigil was undoubtedly worth it. That's a night I'll remember for a long time -- more than eleven and a half hours of prayer, reading, singing, and discussion together. More than eleven and a half hours of telling the story.

Because that's what Easter vigil is about. It's about the story, the story that begins with the creation of the world, the story that tells of God delivering God's people time and time again, despite creation's seemingly constant apostasy. The story that leads to an empty tomb and Jesus, God incarnate, risen from the dead.

I love to tell the story of unseen things above,
of Jesus and his glory, of Jesus and his love.

We held a love feast as well, after all the Easter vigil readings except the gospel lesson. The love feast was a natural fit; it's also a service of reading, singing, and testimony, oriented around the breaking of bread. So after reading about God's salvation through history, we read about love and service and bread. We sang love as we had sung salvation. It seemed right, right to tell the story and then to explore why. Why God creates. Why God pursues, saves, over and over.

And then we were an hour and a half away from dawn. So we renewed our baptismal vows together, prayed and sang a litany of saints, and then reached what we had awaited all night: the reading from Luke, the story of the women and Peter finding an empty tomb, the story of "Why do you look for the living among the dead?"

He is not here, but has risen.

Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest.
And when in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song
'Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.

Before a Vote (Dear Christ Church)

In two weeks, my church will be voting on our options for the future, and I actually won't be present for the vote. As I was thinking through all of this, the conversations we've had as a church over the past six months, and some things I've read over the past year, I wrote the letter below the fold. I don't really intend to give it to the church, but it brings together much of what I've been thinking, and it was important for me to write.

Hungarian Hymns: Bless Me With Forgiveness

"Bless Me With Forgiveness" is a Hungarian hymn with words by Balassi Bálint, and I found it appropriate for Ash Wednesday. Full lyrics with English translation/interpretation are here (and all translations below are from this link). A video with three of the verses is below.

Tempting to Remain

Strengthened by this glimpse of glory,
Fearful lest our faith decline,
We like Peter find it tempting
To remain and build a shrine.
-- "We Have Come at Christ's Own Bidding," Carl P. Daw

This is my Transfiguration Sunday story.

Last spring semester was pretty hard on me. I had spent the previous fall in Budapest, and I had loved it. I'd taken five math classes and been part of a community of math students, had studied in cafes and restaurants, had walked the streets of the city in the mornings that smelled of bread and by the light of streetlamps in the night that came so early. I had also grown in faith during that semester, exploring a variety of topics and spending more time thinking about them than I had before. I was part of a more high church community than I previously had been, and I found great value in that.

And then I came back.

My Soul Doth Magnify the Lord

The Lectionary readings for today include Mary's song, the Magnificat. So here, have a few Magnificat, with a bit of a Hungarian bent:

Gaudete

This is what gaudete means to me: to be unable to avoid the joy of movement under Christmas lights in a cold, dark town square, to live full of the warmth of brass, to be unashamed of dancing in public because it is harder to understand stillness than response.

I visited Pécs, a city in southern Hungary, at the beginning of Advent last fall, the night the Christmas market opened. I almost left Pécs after listening to the children's choir sing in the evening (well after sunset), but right as I was walking away the brass band began to play, and so I turned back. I turned back and listened and couldn't stand still, not simply because of the cold but also because the music and the spots of brightness in the midst of the dark required movement. The tall man was dancing, the little girl was dancing, and I was dancing. We danced alone, on different sides of the crowd, but we danced together, publicly, among all the others, and for once it didn't embarrass me. Light among darkness, music piercing quiet, dancing through stillness, community in solitude. It was beautiful, and it was Advent, and it was joy.

Very Short Links Dump

Just a couple of things:

Why Partnerships, Sharing Ministry, and Mergers Matter by Ben Gosden
I am so glad this was posted this week because right now, I needed to read this.

There's too much that is still undecided for me to talk in detail about the direction my church is going, but this was encouraging and affirming. Doing a new thing means letting go of the old. Resurrection involves death. There are ways to die gracefully that make way for new life, new ministry.

Why Membership? by Dean Lollis
Yes, all of this. I joined a church, even as a college student, because the responsibilities inherent in membership vows are important to me.

Who Leads Us Into Life

Written for my college fellowship's weekly devotional

_______________________________________________

One week while I was abroad, I went to a Taizé-style worship service. I’d been to Taizé services in the US and expected to know a lot of the songs despite my very poor Hungarian. At the beginning, though, I recognized none of the music until people began singing this tune. The words they sang were in Hungarian, but I recognized them as the translation of the English lyrics I knew:

Bless the LORD, my soul, and bless God’s holy name.

Bless the LORD, my soul, who leads me into life.

Those two lines, based off the beginning of Psalm 103, still echo in my mind in moments of stillness. What does it look like for our souls to bless the Eternal God and God’s holy name? What does it mean that the LORD is leading us into life? With the Spirit’s help each day we can abide (1) more and more in Christ and in Christ’s relationship with the Father, and so we grow more and more in relationship with the One who redeems and creates, the source of all life, the One who does not treat us according to our sins but has mercy on us and distances us from our transgressions (2).

We pray. We read. We listen. We fast. We sing. We share bread and cup. And the “we” is essential; faith is not personal alone but also corporate. As the Trinity is in relationship, so should we be in relationship with each other. And through these things God’s grace works in us, entirely perfecting us and leading us into life, teaching our souls to bless the LORD in any language we speak.

Áldott légy Uram, szent neved áldja lelkem.

Áldott légy Uram, mert megváltottál már.

---

(1) John 15:4-5, Jesus speaking to his disciples at the Last Supper: “Remain in me, and I will remain in you. A branch can’t produce fruit by itself, but must remain in the vine. Likewise, you can’t produce fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, then you will produce much fruit. Without me, you can’t do anything.”

(2) Various bits of Psalm 103

On Bread

The Gospel readings in the Lectionary for the past few weeks as well as the next couple are from John 6. This is all about bread. It's Jesus feeding the five thousand and describing himself as the bread of life. The alternate Old Testament readings for Lectionary match the bread theme, telling stories from Exodus, Joshua, and Kings about God feeding God's people. So I thought I'd write a little bit about places in which I've encountered bread.

Azerbaijan. In Azerbaijan, bread is sacred. It indicates abundance. Every meal includes bread, and there are many varieties. One does not throw away bread. If there is a bit of bread on the sidewalk, someone will pick it up and move it to a place where no one will step on it. Some people may even kiss bread, and bread is almost never criticized.

Hungary. In Budapest every other street has a bakery. The glass counters are filled with rolls, pastries, and even pizza, and on long, tall shelves behind the counter there are loaves of fresh bread. St. Stephen's Day, the saint's day of the patron saint of Hungary and one of the largest national holidays, is also the festival of new bread. Bread is not treated with the reverence it is given in Azerbaijan, but it is an important part of meals, and in the morning the city smells of bread.

A food bank in Oklahoma. "Bread!" One person yells it; everyone else echoes. We yell one word as we carry trays, throw items onto trays, pack items into boxes, fold boxes, stack trays on pallets, move pallets out of the way -- "Bread!" The back of the Regional Food Bank smells like bread, everywhere you look is bread, and for three hours your one goal is bread. Pallets of bread still good but too old to sell in stores sit in rows, and the bread travels from trays on pallets to trays on a metal table to cardboard boxes to people who need the bread. Loaves of wheat, of white, whole grain, pastries both American and Mexican, tortillas, flatbreads, snacks, biscuits, hamburger and hot dog buns, nearly anything baked and in a package -- "Bread!"

We Will Walk Hand in Hand: New England Annual Conference, Part 4

The morning of the last day of Annual Conference started with a worship service including the laity address. That service reinforced a lot of my feelings of unity and call from the night before. After that, we finished up the delegations (and alternates) for General and Jurisdictional Conferences. Most of Saturday, though, was problematic and frustrating, and the ending was far from satisfying.

And God's People Said: New England Annual Conference 2015, Part 3

Friday afternoon through evening at Annual Conference was probably my favorite part of all of AC. The business was pretty straightforward; what really stood out was the worship. The afternoon started with the Memorial Service, and we ended the day with the Service of Ordination and Commissioning.

Through Dim and Bright: New England Annual Conference, Part 2

Circle of hope, circle of light
Guiding our days, guarding our nights
Sustaining love, through dim and bright
Circle of hope

Friday was, for me, the most meaningful day of Annual Conference. The day started off with an incredible Bible study with Bishop Gregory Palmer, and there were three really powerful worship services, one of which I'll talk about in this post. However, there was also a lot of frustration and pain, particularly around the conversation about camping ministry.

With God's Help: New England Annual Conference 2015, Part 1

Listen to the word that God has spoken.
Listen to the One who is close at hand.
Listen to the voice that began creation.
Listen even if you don't understand.

This past week I attended my first Annual Conference. I'd been to an ordination service before and several years ago helped with childcare, but this was the first time I participated in the conferencing. I came in knowing that discernment, particularly discernment in the midst of politicking, can be hard, though I wasn't always prepared for exactly how hard and what form the problems took. At the same time, I wasn't fully prepared for the moments of great joy. This is the first of a few posts about how Conference went and what I took away from it.