The Lord's Supper

From NIV:
24and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, "This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me." 25In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me." 26For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.

1 Corinthians 11:26 says, in regards to the Lord’s Supper, “For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” In pondering this verse I came to the realization that I always practice this sacrament with a certain level of introspection; I’m more focused on my shortcomings and prayerfully approaching my participation in the Lord’s Supper, than I am concerned with any other congregant’s experience. However, the use of the verb, “proclaim,” is interesting in that it defines the action of participating in the Lord’s Supper as something all (believer, nonbeliever alike) will see and take note of. I never before thought of the possibility that any bystanders were taking note of my involvement in Communion, nor that by my participation I was making any sort of proclamation other than that I was a confirmed member of the church. The secret? Therein lays the proclamation.

The Hyperstatic Union song, “In Remembrance of Him,” is largely focused on the believer’s experience during Communion: taking the bread and wine and prayerfully considering what it symbolizes (I use that term loosely, there’s another time and place for a doctrinal debate on the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper). While, yes, we are to “do this in remembrance” of the sacrifice of our savior, and Hyperstatic Union’s lyrics and melody beautifully demonstrate the thoughts and feelings behind this act, 1 Corinthians 11:26 hints at a more influential reason for partaking of the Lord’s Supper. It’s not just a sacrament between you and your savior. It’s not just something we Christians do because Jesus said so. It’s a way for us to express our beliefs, “proclaim the Lord’s death,” and share our reasons for doing so with anyone who asks.

This thought is made clearer by my experience as a missionary. I’ve been to church services around the world and in several languages. I didn’t always understand what was being said. Okay, strike that, I usually didn’t understand what was being said, and I had little to no communication or fellowship with my fellow congregants. Nevertheless, this verse is saying that even though I didn’t speak the language, even though I had little in common, culturally, with the other congregants, and even though I was an outsider I could still be effective as a missionary through the Sacrament of Holy Communion. Simply by participating in “the breaking of the bread,” and, “the drinking of the cup,” I was able to “proclaim the death of my Lord.”

Maybe someone who never heard of Jesus saw me go into that church on Sunday and asked themselves, “Why?” Why would a turista (which is what they probably thought I was) take the time out of her sightseeing schedule to spend an hour at church service? Why would this visitor go out of her way to attend service and eat a bit of bread dipped in wine? (Intinction: highly recommended for bread served with sour European white wine) Maybe, just maybe, that same person took the initiative and asked a fellow communicant, and native speaker, why he or she takes part in this sacrament. Who knows?

1 Corinthians 11:26 gives me a bit of hope that God was using me in ways in which I wasn’t even aware. In fact, there are probably hundreds of similar instances when I thought I was acting normal, mundane, and He used it to open the curiosity and heart of a nonbeliever.

Oh, and for the Worship Leader's out there, the next time you need a hymn to sing during communion, try the song I mentioned above. There are many possibilities for instrumentals between verses and improvisation with the chorus. Take a listen on iTunes (it's the bonus track after "Now That It's Over")...it's a stirring tribute to this blessed sacrament. 

In Remembrance of Him by Hyperstatic Union
Oh Sacred hands, wounded for my soul
This brokenness makes me whole
So my hands break the bread
Heeding words Jesus said
And I do this in remembrance of Him

By His stripes our bodies are healed
For this sacrifice the covenant was sealed
So my hands break the bread
Heeding words Jesus said
And I do this in remembrance of Him

This sacrament demands my purity
His blood was spilled and I have been set free
So my lips touch the glass
Doing what my savior asked
And I drink this in remembrance of Him

Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks

Because I will be attending three baseball games in one week. That's 27 innings (barring overtime) in 168 hours.

"Heaven!" cheer you baseball lovers.

"Boring pit of dispair," cringe haters.

And while I don't consider myself a Baseball Hater per se, I will admit to feeling little love for the sport. In fact, I will say that I find it the most boring sport to watch. Even golf is better (I will be watching quite a bit of that in the next week as well).

I never understood why there must be 9 innings when 7 will do just as well. Seventh inning stretch? Not when you have the end of the game fast approaching. I always find the actual "stretch" portion of the game to commence around inning 4 anyway. That's usually when I make the second trip to the beer stand.

I don't know why baseball bores me. I certainly enjoyed playing the game in gym class...to an extent. Perhaps it's having to watch long stretches of boring nothingness until something exciting happens. But don't blink! That "something interesting" will be over in less time than it takes to flag down the roving beer vendor. And it's not like they won't have an instant replay or three on the Jumbotron for you to enjoy if you happened to be in the restroom during the play.

And goodness knows you'll be using the restroom if you've been using your boredom as an excuse to drink yourself into excitement.

Ho yan

Happy 2007 everyone. Let me just say that this New Year's was much better than last, although it doesn't take much to beat out being that sick...even if I was in Ireland. And it really did set the tone for the rest of 2006. There were some good times, I'm not lying, but many things happening in the past 6 months have been cherries on top of a really excellent year. And when I say "really excellent" I'm saying it in the most sarcastic way possible. I don't think the banana split of 2006 can handle any more cherries on top of it, which is rather a good thing actually seeing as how it's now 2007.

Anyway, enough griping. Not much is happening in my world lately so I haven't been blogging. That's really the whole story. Boring I know. Hopefully there will be more later...if anything exciting happens that is.

Displays of Wealth

Sorry if you still read this and thought I was MIA. I haven't been busy, and I haven't had a million things to do. I'm just lazy.

Last weekend I went to the Showcase of New Homes in Green Bay. I'm conflicted in my feelings about the massive displays of wealth I experienced on the tour. It was interesting to see the big homes until I started to think about what my friends in Hungary would say if they were with me. I mean, one house we saw was designed for a family of five and it had 6,000+ square feet of living space.

Seriously, why would a family of five need that much space? And how many other, better things could people do with the money it cost to build such homes? Perhaps they've never heard of Warren Buffet.

Many of the homes we saw would comfortably fit 5-10 Hungarian homes in them, and I couldn't help but wonder if they were all just so many temples to the almighty dollar. Please Lord, if I ever have that much money teach me to be content with NOT showing it off by building a 7,000 sq ft home with sauna, pool, game room, basketball court, and movie theater. Nor by owning 2 Cadillac Escalades, 1 Corvette, and 2 Harley special editions.

The Daily Devotional

Do you know what I like about John Ortberg? I'm reading his book, "God is Closer than You Think," and what I like about it is that he gives you everyday applications for each lesson in the book. In every chapter there's another step you can take in experiencing God's presence in your life (what many like to call a "personal relationship with Jesus"). Instead of just telling you what it's like, or giving you scripture to study, he does all of that and then also tells you how to make changes in your daily life so you too can start building a deeper relationship with God.

I'm a fan of Max Lucado, but books by John Ortberg (see also: The Life You've Always Wanted) are easily applicable, and I enjoy them as daily devotionals.

That's just one girl's opinion.

What Heaven Must Be Like

Sorry for the lack of updates these past few weeks. What with getting back to the US and the 4th of July, things have been a little crazy.

I got home June 22nd and almost my entire family was there to meet me at the airport. I really didn't want anyone to be there as I didn't want a big scene, but it was actually very nice. After so much time not seeing anyone, they were standing in a crowd at the Arrivals gate and my sister even made a "Welcome Home" sign (written in Hungarian - sweet!). That must be what heaven is like - everyone you love who has gone before you there, cheering, and excited to welcome you home.

Unfortunately, I was so tired from the 20 hours of travel that I wasn't very spirited company. Sorry, guys, but that unexpected delay in Chicago (when I was SO close, really sapped my remaining strength).

The 4th of July was great. All I wanted was the same family tradition of Gresham parade & fireworks and I got exactly that. I don't know why, but the Christmas and 4th of July holidays with my family are my 2 favorite. Ethan sat on my lap during the entire parade and we've been bonding ever since as I go to Emily's house once a week to babysit.

No job interviews yet, well one, but I don't count it because they wanted me to sell insurance which is just not my forte. In fact, selling anything can be a chore unless I really like what I'm selling.

It's hard to believe it's only the beginning of July...it feels like it should be the end, as I'm busy with so many things yet not busy at all. Strange.

Anywho. That's about all that's happening. Next week I will officially start the job search and I'm touring the churches that supported me in Hungary. I'm quite excited to tell everyone about it and share my memories with them.

Ciao for now.

Roman Holiday

A short description of Italy


I got goosebumps when this came into sight on our bus ride. Tip: Buy a ticket for the tourist bus and use that to get around town. It's 10 Euros and takes you to all of the hotspots.


"Traffic jam" in Venice. I thought it was nifty, but our gondola rower didn't sing. I also got the Loser Seat (the chair on the side) on the boat and spent the entire ride paranoid that I would fall into the polluted canal. My back had a cramp for at least a few hours. :)


The line to the Vatican Museum. Around the corner and halfway down the block is the entrance. Think that's a long way?


These are the people behind us. And the line continues around this corner and down for blocks. Did I mention it was 30 degrees centigrade in the shade that day?


One bronze statue in a room full of marble statues. Do you think he feels like the odd man out? Do the other statues ostracize him because he's a different color? Or does his height and size give him some street cred? Or perhaps his height is just another reason they give him a hard time?


"Hey! How many times do I have to tell you idiots that I want red wine? WHY DO YOU KEEP GIVING ME SAUVIGNON BLANC?????


Ah, a statue of the Egyptian goddess Sekhmet, pillaged from the temple in Karnac. Wait a minute, we're in The Vatican! The Catholic epicenter of the world! Does anyone else see the irony?

A Race to the Finish

Now that the end is in sight I want to go back and make it disappear. It feels like I've been saying goodbye to people for weeks, and it's quite true. It started at graduation on May 8th and it hasn't stopped. I hate the drawn out process.

But in good news, my mom and stepdad arrived safely on Saturday, and we had a good time in Sopron. The weather was amazingly beautiful. A few days before they arrived it was freezing cold. Now it's raining. In fact there was a short thunderstorn this afternoon. If you don't like the weather in Hungary, just wait five minutes.

It's supposed to storm tomorrow and Thursday. There go my plans for taking my classes outside. Perhaps the teahouse will be an alternative. It is the last day of class, and I would like to do something different.

Speaking of which, the last week of school has been very nice. Every lesson my students give me chocolate and/or flowers. I also had them design a scrapbook page as a way to say goodbye, so that I can remember them always. (insert "aw" here)

But seriously, they've been very creative.

So that's the news from here. On Friday I meet Mom and John in Rome, and I cannot wait! I want to visit Italy, but then again I don't want to leave Sopron. Sadness...

Queues and Such Nonsense

The one throwback to Communist times that I think I can do without is the issue of line formation.

Today I was in Spar to stock up on food supplies. The stores will be closed a few days for holiday, and many, many people had the same idea. Tip: You can always tell how busy the supermarket is by how many shopping carts are missing from the cart storage.

I went inside and did my thang (by "thang," I mean, “got my groceries”...I wasn't shaking what my momma gave me down the tea aisle or anything like that). After I did my “thang,” I went down aisle number 6 to get in line for the checkout.

Enter 50 year old lady (okay, 50 is generous...it was more like 60).

I first noticed something amiss when I felt her breathing down my neck. No, that isn't just a figure of speech. Her breath was literally down my neck.

The next thing I know I have the end of a shopping cart rammed into my backside (what my momma gave me).

Thinking this is some sort of sneak attack, I immediately spring into ninja pose and confront the woman (not really). Actually, I just nonchalantly glance behind me to see her reaction.

Is she breathing heavily and in full ninja pose? Will I be slayed by a look that could kill? Is she mad at me for taking the last bottle of Kékfrankós? Because that would be crazy...there were plenty of bottles on the shelf when I left the scene.

What?! No expression whatsoever! She seems not to realize that anything is amiss, and is unable to comprehend that she violated another human being's posterior, not to mention an American's personal space, of which we value in plentiful amounts.

I have a theory. So I test this theory.

I move my cart up a few inches.

Sure enough, I feel her cart in my backside again, but wait a minute, the cart feels different this time. More curvy. Hm...(pause as I glance behind)

It's her! Not only is she breathing down my neck, but she is so close to me that I can make out her frame from hips to shoulders.

Again I casually check behind me to see if she notices anything amiss.

Nope. I guess invading other's personal space and somewhat violating people in the checkout line is just her thing.

Then I get to thinking. I've heard of such happenings before; I am not the only victim of this victimless crime. My theory is that crowding and rear-ending in Eastern European lines (“queues” if your British) is a common occurrence for people over the age of 40. It's happened to me before, and is always the result of some little old lady “gettin' all up in my space,” to use the parlance of our times. I can only assume it has something to do with Communism and a limited supply of packaged laundry soap.

So Many Things, So Little Time

So today I must decide what to do with myself. There's a wine festival in the Centrum. A basketball tourney and concert await at the Arena. And tonight is the 4Rock Sopron concert at GYIK. I'm thinking wine festival and GYIK. My students are in 2 of the rock bands tonight, after all. Must go and be a groupie, but not a groupie in the true sense of the word. Just a supportive, cheering, friend if you will.

Let's see, what else is new? Hm.

Oh, the construction is finished on Csengery Utca (the street outside my window) and now cars zip past at 80 miles an hour all night. That's nice. Especially when I'm trying to sleep. Or better yet, when I'm coming back after 10 pm (when the stop lights start flashing yellow) and I have to cross the road. It's kind of like a real live game of Frogger only there are no logs floating across a river. Keeps me spry.

That's about all for now. God is good and continues to bless the time I have left. There's a direct correlation between how much time I have left and how much the students are opening up. I'm starting to feel a real comraderie with my classes and I just pray that I can use what little time I have left to cement the friendships and get in a few good gospel touches before I go.

It's hard to leave, but I know I have to let go and allow God to do his thing. Trust that he has my friends and loved ones taken care of after I leave. I've seen what it's like when missionaries can't let go and I kind of feel like it can be a hindrance. Not only to the "replacement" missionaries, but also to the works God is doing. I just have this absolute trust that I'm doing the right thing in coming home and I know, without a doubt, that God has these precious people looked after and will place others in their lives that continue to share with them the gospel message.