Week of Compassion

I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything on my blog. Lately, I've been working on a post, but for some reason I'm not satisfied with it/things keeping happening that I want to add. So instead, I will put up an article I wrote for Week of Compassion, which is a special donation week in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). The article was written to communicate the purpose of Week of Compassion to those participating at home, which includes, among other things, the bulk of my funding. I think it's a good piece to put up because it explains a little more about the work I'm doing and gives a deeper look into the challenges that the RCH is facing in Hungary today. I hope it is informative and a true reflection of the church's service.

So, without further ado:

If someone had asked me a year ago how Week of Compassion funds were used in our church, I would have had no idea. I knew that it went toward mission work of some kind, but what does that even mean? Mission is such a broad term with so many different meanings in so many different contexts. So, if you donate to Week of Compassion, whom are your funds helping?

I cannot tell you the specifics of the program, much to the chagrin of my bosses at Global Ministries I’m sure, but I do know one thing. It supports me, a Global Mission Intern. It supports other young people like me who have chosen to uproot their lives for a year or more to serve alongside our partners around the world. Your generosity makes it possible!

Currently, I am serving a one-year term with the Reformed Church in Hungary (RCH). I work in the Ecumenical Office of the national church, which focuses on maintaining international relationships with partner churches and organizations throughout Europe and around the world. I live in a big city with a routine, but fulfilling office position – not exactly your definition of mission, I bet!

The Synod Building where I work

So, why am I in Hungary if I’m not doing “real mission work?” Well, that’s an easy question to answer for me. They needed me, and I needed them. God’s call comes in many forms, who am I to consider one need greater or less important than another?

The situation in Hungary is a complex story; one that I am just now starting to recognize and am far from understanding. From an American perspective, it is incomprehensible. Historically, Hungary has been on the losing end of a lot of battles and ruled by several monarchies. The Reformed tradition in Hungary dates back to early on in the European Reformation, when German merchants brought over Reformed ideas.

Since then, the church has been a place of refuge for a people that desperately needed a respite. Only the brutal counter-Reformation of the Habsburg Monarchy in the 17^th and 18^th century was able to effectively squelch the spreading of Reformed practices. This bloody campaign essentially made Protestant believers in Hungary second-class citizens, thus allowing for a reemergence of Catholicism. Today, Roman Catholic remains the main religious demographic, with Reformed being the second largest affiliation.

However, one of the biggest blows to the Hungarian people has been the dislocation of two-thirds of its territory following the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy’s loss in World War I. The Trianon Treaty in1920 not only decreased the size of Hungary’s borders, it effectively ostracized Hungarian communities from their home and culture. Now, there are clusters of Hungarian-speaking societies in surrounding countries like Serbia, Slovakia, Ukraine and Romania. Within these countries, Reformed people face several minority situations because first of all they speak Hungarian as opposed to the countries’ national languages and secondly because they are from a Reformed background not Orthodox or Roman Catholic.

One of the main focuses for the RCH in the last few years has been to connect the historic relations between these separated people. Today, it strives to live as an example of a “border crossing community.” This was evidenced by the creation of a Hungarian Reformed Church in 2009. This wider church is a community of Reformed Hungarian-speaking churches around the Carpathian Basin with a common Synod called the General Convent, which can pass legislation and statements concerning issues decided upon by participating members. This unity strengthens the churches and offers a sense of solidarity in the face of hardship and distress.

In addition, the RCH has been facing the same trials that churches all over the world must handle. Congregations are getting older and local churches are dying because there are no young people to take over the reins. For this reason, the RCH is currently in the process of a church-wide revision process. The RCH’s main decision-making body, the Synod, approved a committee with the intention of evaluating the church’s function during the last two decades and the altered social framework that now surrounds it. This process includes dialogue with pastors, presbytery bodies, local congregations and experts in certain fields as well as a sociological research study to determine the best course of action to challenge these issues.

Needless to say, it is an important time in the life of the church, but unfortunately, because of the uniqueness of the Hungarian language, it is difficult to communicate both the RCH’s work and its struggles outside Hungary’s borders. In a time of international ecumenical relations and awareness, this communication is absolutely necessary. Literally everything must be translated from Hungarian to German or English if there is even the slimmest chance that European church organizations will read and share the news. To combat this, the church started an English website and newsletter last year to be the conduits with which to share the life of the RCH. And, this is where I can help – where I am needed.

That is what mission is about; offering the skills you possess to match the need, whatever it may be, of our brothers and sisters in Christ. It is about walking with our partners to live and learn together as members of Christ’s body. I am truly thankful for my time Hungary, for the support of so many back home, for the people I work with, for the work they do, but most importantly for the work we do together.

So, if you asked me that same question about Week of Compassion today, I still would not know the specifics of where your money goes, but I would have an answer that somehow explains it better than any flow chart ever could. Week of Compassion not only supports mission, it supports people, it supports progress, it supports unity, it supports discussion, it supports equality and it supports a call of joint service. Week of Compassion supports the body of Christ.

Shoulder to Shoulder

I'm sitting in a milk bar right now called Tejivo, and I'm realizing that I really enjoy my life over here.

I've been back to work since the beginning of January and I can see that there is a noticeable shift in my function within the Synod Office. Perhaps it's less of a shift in the Synod and more a shift in me. My biggest task so far this year has been creating, along with others in the Ecumenical Office, a communication plan for the RCH's English website. Now, I know that this seems like a really basic task for any organization, but the difference, again, is me. This is the first year that I have a stake in the material that goes out to the world. My opinions are heard and considered. It's like we are finally seeing the potential of a project that has taken numerous months to launch and even more to hone. It's not always easy, and honestly it's been a bit daunting to see the scheduled writing assignments that will ultimately fall into my lap, but it's exhilarating too.

Another exciting thing about this year is that I'm finally participating with other branches of the RCH. Friday, I finally took the long anticipated trek out to the Refugee Ministry. Yet again, my tasks are kind of up in the air, but I know one thing. I will be working with inspiring people who run an incredible ministry. When I first got here, everything was unknown - future events on the horizon, present, but vague. Now, I am a part of it. I am more than an editor, I am a creator.

It's a strange thought to think about slipping into another life in a different country, but that's exactly what I've done. I am struck sometimes, because I feel that I've become too comfortable too soon; like I should be on the lookout for the inevitable crash that I've heard so many missionaries talk about. And honestly I do think it will come at some point, but I am lucky enough to say that I have a support system to fall back on when I do crack.

Sunday marked the beginning of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, a worldwide call for community, and I don't think there has been another time in my life when I have seen the importance of walking together with our brothers and sisters in Christ so clearly. If it were not for this extended family in Hungary found through God, I would not feel this sense of calm - well, perhaps not calm, but more a state of preparedness.

I guess it is a self defense mechanism of sorts when you are separated from everything you know to latch onto the things that are blessedly the same. I find myself operating mostly within my head, following conversations through body language and gestures because I don't understand the words that surround me. And it is in these times that I see the mannerisms, expressions, routines, laughter and even faith that connect us in the most organic sense.

Together, we can create this wonderful and sometimes strange community of mismatched histories, languages, appearances and faiths. I can only hope that throughout this week, we are able see the hope that comes from putting differences aside and realizing that we are always stronger together.


Zephaniah 3:9
Then I will purify the lips of the peoples,
that all of them may call on the name of the Lord
and serve him shoulder to shoulder.

*Shout out to the St. Columba's Bible Study group for the verse!

My Year End Review...ish

Hello.

It's been awhile. I'm sorry there have not been any posts lately, but as everyone knows, the holidays are a busy time. I may have taken a brief hiatus, but fear not, I'm back to work now!

I celebrated my first truly white Christmas with some wonderful people in Budapest and several church services, including a Hungarian service. I am incredibly lucky that people were kind enough to open their homes and lives to me for my first Christmas away from home. I went out on the 24th and snapped a few photos of the city in the snow. It was pretty breathtaking.

 Szabadság hid (Liberty Bridge)

Szabadság szobor in the fog (Statue of Liberty)

After Christmas, my friend and I were able (with the incredibly generous help of our boss) to take a trip to Paris, where we rang in the new year! The city was absolutely stunning even if it was a little rainy. We rented an adorable flat on the north side of the city, outside of the city center, that became our home for the week. I cannot properly explain how comforting it was to have a place to come back to every night that we could call our own, not just a hotel or hostel.

The trip started out a little rough with a very long, complicated, exhausting story involving shuttle services, French information desks, night buses, dead birds, extremely upset passengers and one bizarre yet wonderful taxi ride. I'll spare you the gory details, but know that we arrived safely, even if it took a little work and several hours to get to our flat the first night.

The next morning though, everything changed. I can honestly say that we did not have any other problems the rest of the trip (aside from a few expected metro mix ups). We were surrounded by history and art that defined an entire country (and beyond). We were able to go to the Louvre, Musée d'Orsay, Musée Rodin, the Panthéon, Versailles,  Notre Dame de Paris and the most beautiful churches I've ever seen. It was a surreal and humbling experience to be so close to things I had previously only imagined seeing in textbooks.

Tour de Eiffel

Mona Lisa

Venus de Milo

Notre Dame de Paris

The Seine

All aglow for New Year's

Aside from the sights, it was the people we spent our time with that made the trip special. We met with a few old friends who introduced us to the well kept local secrets of the city, delicious food and even better company. We were also able to strengthen new relationships, including a trip to the south part of the city for Sunday service with an old member of the Global Ministries team and the local congregation he now serves in Paris. The hospitality we met during our five short days was a blessing and we are truly appreciative for our warm welcome.

On the way to Notre Dame de Paris

Dinner date!

In Montmartre

I think it's incredibly telling that inevitably the first words you learn in any language are words of thanks. I've said "thank you" more times than I can count this year, and as I look forward to 2013 and a new year full of possibility and promise, all I can say is thank you. Thank you for the support, thank you for the faith, thank you for the prayers, thank you for the opportunity, thank you for all of the wonderful people in my life and thank you for all of the blessings I may overlook during the day to day.

It seems to me that if "thank you" were the only words we knew, we'd get along just fine.

Musical Theory

I am constantly impressed by the power of music. To be honest, it was one of my first experiences with Hungary...and it happened before I even finished packing my bags. In the midst of an email hammering out the boring, yet ever so important logistical details of my arrival to Budapest, sat an unassuming Youtube link. I clicked the link, and what I found was Gotye's "Somebody That I Used To Know," the very song that was, as most everyone can attest, my unofficial theme song for summer 2012. I had made a friend and a  new connection before I even stepped on the plane.

Why is music so important to people? What gives it this spiritual-like ability to bring people together - the power to define a mood or thought or question?

Maybe, it's because music makes us happy and comforts us when we're sad. Maybe, it's because music takes us to another world. Maybe, it's because you're more honest with yourself when you listen to music, or because it never questions you, but always makes you questions yourself. Maybe, it's because music can be your best friend, your significant other and your guilty pleasure. Maybe, it's because music creates an unexplainable plane of understanding and acceptance that you can't find anywhere else...Maybe, it's all of the above.

I have always loved music. I come from a family that loves music. When I was little, my brother hated that I made up songs all the time. I just sang (most likely off key) because I was happy. I sang because it made me happy, and it stills does today. I spend my entire day with music. It is my constant companion. If I'm not listening to an artist on my ipod or computer, I'm humming along to something in my head. Conversations remind me of song lyrics and all of a sudden I'm singing out loud. I play two instruments, I read music and I sing in just about every choir that will have me, so when my coworkers from the Synod asked me to join a choir for the office Christmas celebration, I naturally said, "yes."

Learn Hungarian with me! (Sorry the quality is awful)

Now here I am, singing Christmas songs in Hungarian and desperately trying to pronounce the words correctly, but I couldn't be happier. Because of rehearsals and because of these songs, I have been able to meet more people in the office, I've been able to step out of my English writing bubble in the Ecumenical Office, and I have come to see that somehow through all this work, confusion and language, I've become a part of the Synod dynamic.

That's powerful.

So, it shouldn't surprise me that last Sunday when I joined a group of school-aged Roma children at their community center Christmas party, I was drawn to the music and songs being sung. The music was affecting the kids too. In each song, the music brought them out of their shells and brought them closer to a religious life they had never experienced before. As I prepared tea, I hummed along with the unfamiliar melodies, because I didn't know the Hungarian lyrics, and then I heard a song that jumped out at me and connected these Roma children with my own childhood.

Making Christmas cards

Name that tune!

Making Advent wreaths

They sang "This Little Light of Mine." This was the first time I fully realized the universal power and truth behind a simple children's song. But, that song also created understanding, even if I was the only one to realize it. Every person in that room had experienced this song in some way, and everyone, Roma, Hungarian, American, was bound together because of it, if only for a few minutes.

That's powerful.

Now, perhaps I'm placing an exaggerated emphasis on a few sounds thrown together, or perhaps that's the point. After all, isn't it the individual tones that come together to make a beautiful harmony? Isn't the complexity, the layers, the movement what makes a song whole?

In the end, I guess the question of this mysterious musical connection is pretty simple. Music brings both similar and different kinds of people together, like dissonant sounds that somehow work together to create harmony, by appealing to individuals and then connecting them in meaningful ways to produce a piece that is intrinsically more - where each note is strengthened and supported by another.

And that is powerful.

Christmas Come Early!

Two days ago I walked into my room to find a package lying in wait. It was a slightly crumpled parcel from the US Postal Service that was absolutely covered in stamps! I wasn't expecting anything in the mail, and yet, here it was.

Notice exorbitant amount of tape and stamps plus slightly worse for wear structure 

I searched around for an instrument to cut through the 1/4 inch thick USPS packing tape that was so lovingly applied before departure and ended up settling for the tried and true key method. When I finally got inside, I was so excited to see a box FULL of envelopes addressed to me!

Don't be fooled, there was glitter everywhere!

My congregation in Baton Rouge got together and sent me a care-package simply bursting with their well-wishes for the holidays, supportive words for my time in Hungary, and over and over again, "we miss you," "we're proud of you," "we love you." Simply put, my heart is in flight. I cannot thank you all enough for this wonderful gift. Advent is a difficult time to be away from home, and a difficult time to be apart from what you know. This box, whether intended to or not, is serving as a small white, impressively stamped, glitter-filled tether connecting my home to Budapest. I feel the support and love of my church family, and it is a wonderful way to move into this Advent season.

On Sunday, the pastor of the local Scottish-Reformed church where I attend while in Budapest challenged us to consider what we do while we wait, and more specifically what will we do as we await Christmas and the arrival of the Messiah. What will I do as I wait for a holiday when I know I will be away from so many of the people and traditions I hold dear?

When I tell someone I am planning on staying in Budapest for Christmas I have received one of two reactions:

1. disbelief at the thought of being in a strange city alone on Christmas

2. shock that this is the way I am choosing to spend my holidays

It's both entertaining and understandable at the same time. I must remember that there is no window into my thoughts that brings understanding. People cannot see the emotional preparation that is required for this kind of service, or the way I prepared for my time in Budapest. I wrote in my very first blog post that I wanted "to drink in my life" before I set off for Hungary, and I did. Perhaps it didn't seem this way, but internally I held the relationships, people and traditions that I love close to to my heart, then simultaneously and purposefully took a mental step backward. For me, the waiting game counting down to holidays spent far from home started in May.

This distance is my choice. This service is my choice. After years of turning a deaf ear to God's call, I took a chance, and while it may not be easy, it is fulfilling. It is worthwhile. It is meaningful. It is where I need to be. It is where I choose to be.

I am truly blessed. Is it even possible to count the ways? I have been met in Hungary by an insatiable acceptance. The more people I meet and interact with, the more I am struck by the openness and excitement I receive in return. Along with the surprised responses to my Christmas plans, I have had as many people tell me about how to spend my time and navigate the city during the Christmas season. I have even received invitations to join families and share in their personal traditions. I am truly blessed to be in a country that has accepted and loved me since my arrival. I am blessed to have a wonderful family supporting me from afar, and I am blessed to have an opportunity to walk beside others and experience life through a new lens.

I may be separated from the familiar this Christmas season, but I choose to see it as an opportunity to explore a new path instead of desperately clinging to the idea of the well-worn one that awaits me back home.

I suppose the best way to enjoy the wait is to simply live it and appreciate all of the unexpected blessings it can bring along the way.