January 11th, 2013
by George Sefferis
To Nani Panayíotopoulo
And yet we should consider how we go forward.
To feel is not enough, nor to think, nor to move
nor to put your body in danger in front of an old loophole
when scalding oil and molten lead furrow the walls.
And yet we should consider towards what we go forward,
not as our pain would have it, and our hungry children
and the chasm between us and the companions calling from the opposite shore;
nor as the bluish light whispers it in an improvised hospital,
the pharmaceutic glimmer on the pillow of the youth operated on at noon;
but it should be in some other way, I would say like
the long river that emerges from the great lakes enclosed deep in Africa,
that was once a god and then became a road and a benefactor, a judge and a delta;
that is never the same, as the ancient wise men taught,
and yet always remains the same body, the same bed, and the same Sign,
the same orientation.
I want nothing more than to speak simply, to be granted that grace.
Because we’ve loaded even our song with so much music that it’s slowly sinking
and we’ve decorated our art so much that its features have been eaten away by gold
and it’s time to say our few words because tomorrow our soul sets sail.
If pain is human we are not human beings merely to suffer pain;
that’s why I think so much these days about the great river,
this meaning that moves forward among herbs and greenery
and beasts that graze and drink, men who sow and harvest,
great tombs even and small habitations of the dead.
This current that goes its way and that is not so different from the blood of men,
from the eyes of men when they look straight ahead without fear in their hearts,
without the daily tremor for trivialities or even for important things;
when they look straight ahead like the traveller who is used to gauging his way by the stars,
not like us, the other day, gazing at the enclosed garden of a sleepy Arab house,
behind the lattices the cool garden changing shape, growing larger and smaller,
we too changing, as we gazed, the shape of our desire and our hearts,
at noon’s precipitation, we the patient dough of a world that throws us out and kneads us,
caught in the embroidered nets of a life that was as it should be and then became dust and sank into the sands
leaving behind it only that vague dizzying sway of a tall palm tree.
Cairo, 20 June ’42
-Read at St. Lydia’s on January 6, 2013
January 10th, 2013
Are you interested in being a song leader or deacon at a Saint Lydia’s service? This FAQ sheet will give you a sense of what’s involved and what resources and support you will receive as you explore these roles.
Q: What does the Deacon do at Saint Lydia’s?
A: The deacon gives instructions so that everyone knows what is happening next: a procession, the lighting of candles, sharing the bread, prayer, dinner, cleanup, and so forth. By giving clear instructions and making sure everyone knows what is happening, the deacon helps make Saint Lydia’s a welcoming place for all, especially those who have never been to a Saint Lydia’s service.
Q: What does the Song Leader do?
A: The song leader teaches songs to the congregation and cues the singing at various points during the service. This, too, is a welcoming role.
Q: Where and when can I receive training for these roles?
A: We have deacon and song leader training and rehearsals every week before the service. We gather at 6:15 PM, and all are welcome to attend. We also post resources on our website, including recordings of the songs that we sing and ways to teach them to the group.
Q: If I want to be a Song Leader, what prior musical training will I need? Do I have to be able to read music?
A: Saint Lydia’s is a place for learning and we can accommodate song leaders of all levels of training, including absolute beginners who don’t read music. The most important qualification for song leading is the ability to carry a tune and keep a steady rhythm. We work with our trainees to develop all the skills they need, and we will ensure that they are not burdened with material that lies beyond their abilities. We want our song leaders to feel supported and relaxed as they acquire new skills and explore this role.
Q: Deacon sounds kind of official. Do I have to pass a test or get a deacon’s license, or something?
A: There’s no need for an official anything. The first step is to come the informal and supportive deacon training and rehearsal that takes place before every service.
Q: As Deacon or Song Leader, do I have to wear special clothes?
A: No. Come dressed as you otherwise would and wear clothes that are comfortable and don’t restrict your movement.
Q: How does the Deacon know what to say?
A: The deacon’s instructions are all written down in a script, from which the deacon reads during the service. No memorization is required. (You can peek at a sample script here and get a more concrete sense of what the deacon says and does.)
Q: How does the Song Leader know what to sing?
A: The song leader uses a script and but memorizes the songs ahead of time. (The song leader has a menu of song options for various musical moments during the service, and from that list she/he selects the music.) We post recordings of all of the songs on the Squeezebox portion of the Saint Lydia’s website so trainees can listen and practice at home. You can also get additional coaching at the rehearsal and training sessions before the service, though when you are signed up to be that week’s Song Leader, we want you to come with the songs memorized and practiced.
Q: Can I play that cool instrument that makes the droning organ sound?
A: That’s a shruti box, an instrument from India that we use at Saint Lydia’s to accompany the songs, and yes, we can teach anyone interested in learning how to play it. Because the Song Leader needs to have her/his hands free when leading songs, we generally have someone other than the Song Leader playing the shruti box. It’s fairly easy to learn how to play it and if you would like to learn, come to one of the rehearsal and training sessions. It’s even more fun than it looks. If you would like to learn, talk to Rachel Pollak, our Community Coordinator, or email her at rachel@stlydias.org.
Q: I’d like to try being a Deacon or Song Leader but I’d like to have someone stand next to me, like a co-pilot (in case I lose my place, get nervous, or forget how the song goes). Is that possible?
A: Absolutely. We can pair you with a veteran so that you don’t have to worry about carrying the load all by yourself. You can try as little or as much of the job as you would like and ease your way into it. Saint Lydia’s is a community that supports learning at all levels, and we will accommodate your needs.
Q: What happens if I am Deacon or Song Leader and I make a mistake?
A: We don’t aim for perfection. We practice and prepare to do our best, but mistakes happen regularly at Saint Lydia’s, and when they occur, they present opportunities for learning, laughter, and grace. When you make a mistake in front of other people, and then find your way and keep going, you offer your fellow congregants the great gift of modeling forgiveness. Our liturgy is built to make room for those moments of grace and forgiveness, and every single St. Lydia’s leader has made mistakes, so you’ll be in good company if you forget a line or sing a wrong note.
Q: Okay, I’m interested. What’s my first step?
A: Come to one of the deacon and song-leader rehearsal and training sessions that happen before every service. We usually gather at 6:15. You don’t need to sign up beforehand. Just show up and say “I’m here for the training and rehearsal.” Once you get a sense of what the roles are like, you can talk with our Community Coordinator about the role or roles you’d like to explore.
January 8th, 2013
Read Emily’s latest sermon, “On Cotton,” on her blog, Sit and Eat. This one’s about Simeon, and that song he sings.
January 8th, 2013
Dear Lydians,
Let’s start with a little Greek, shall we? In Greek, there are two words for “time,” chronos and kairos. Chronos is the word that we usually think of when we think of time: clocks and calendars and timers — time that can be measured and ordered and scheduled. Kairos, however, is a different kind of time. Kairos is a moment of opportunity, the “right time,” a moment of readiness that we must either seize or let pass by. It’s a sort of cosmic rhythm that we can learn to be attuned to.
Kairos shows up a lot in the New Testament. Generally, we’re either being told that it is the time, or told to wait for the right time. John the baptist is running around telling everyone that this is the time (Mark 1:15), while Jesus warns us to stay awake and alert, because we don’t know when the appointed time will come (Mark 13:33). There’s also a whole lot of talk about harvests. A harvest that must occur at the right time, in the right season. Kairos is a little bit like ripeness — waiting for a moment of fullness.
I’m writing you today to talk a little bit about this Kairos time at St. Lydia’s. Part of my job as a pastor is to stay attuned to kairos in the midst of the ticking away of the chronos — to help us discern what season it is. Our first two seasons were about practice and culture-building: we learned how to worship together and love one another, rejecting an economy of scarcity in order to live in God’s economy of abundance. Our third year was a season of ordering our communal life together: developing a governance system by which we could share leadership and make decisions as a body. It was also a season to bless and acknowledge all that we’ve done together, with our wonderful Blessing of New Ministry and Installation service that took place in December.
Now it’s a new season in our life together: a new kairos. I believe that it’s time for St. Lydia’s to move into a deeper, rooted relationship with our neighborhood and with the entire city. What is the landscape of the neighborhood we inhabit, and the city of which we are a part? Where are the strengths and connections in that landscape, and where is there hunger and brokenness? How is God calling us to be participate in that strength and connection, and tend to the hunger and brokenness? How can we be agents of healing, peace, and justice within this landscape?
I believe that the answers to all these questions, as well as hearing the call of the Holy Spirit, begins with listening. And so this January, I am launching a “Season of Listening” at St. Lydia’s, in which each and every congregant will have the opportunity to engage in listening to the stories of our neighborhood and the whole city. In order to do this, we’ll be using a Community Organizing technique called a one-on-one. It’s a method for listening to people and hearing about the strengths and struggles of their daily lives. This city has a lot of stories to tell, and you are invited to listen, knowing that each encounter with the stranger is an encounter with Christ.
All Your Questions Answered!
So, how is this all going to work? Good question! Below you will find what I hope are the answers to most of your questions about the Season of Listening. And as you know, you can always reach out to me for more conversation atemily@stlydias.org.
What is a One-On-One?
A one-on-one is a community organizing tool for the purpose of establishing a relationship through conversation and sharing stories. One-on-ones are conversations, not interviews — you don’t go in with a list of questions. They’re also not a pitch of any kind — you don’t invite someone to church as a part of a one-on-one. The goal of a one-on-one is to listen, and build a relationship.
*from resources provided by the Regional Center for Healthy Communities (www.healthier-communities.org)
How do I get started?
Attend a training! Trainings are short and sweet — 25 minutes before or after worship in the Brooklyn Zen Center. Here’s the schedule:
Sunday, January 13, 6:00 pm
Sunday, January 27, 6:00 pm
Sunday, February 3, after worship
Sunday, February 10, 6:00 pm
Once you’ve completed the training, you’ll be given access to a google document that has a big list of people and places we’d like to approach for one-on-ones. You can sign up to visit one of the places I’ve listed, or you can add your own places to the list.
It’s helpful if you sign up for the training you’d like to attend on this googledoc.
Can I take part in the Season of Listening without doing the training?
You can always listen to people! But when you’re representing St. Lydia’s formally doing a one-on-one, it’s important to have specific training.
Who’s doing the training?
Melissa and I, who both have backgrounds in Community Organizing, will be leading the trainings.
I have a specific interest. Can I do one-on-ones in a particular area?
Yes, absolutely. Focus your work around your interests and motivations. If you are really interested in the public school system, for instance, you can plan to meet teachers and principals. Or you might want to meet more people on your block, or folks who work for social services agencies. Feel free to make the one-on-ones your own.
Do I need to do my one-on-ones in Gowanus/Park Slope?
No. St. Lydia’s is rooted in a local neighborhood, and in relationship with the entire city. We want to listen all over the place! You can do one-on-ones with a city organization that you’ve always been interested in, or decide to do one-on-ones in your own neighborhood.
How many one-on-ones should I try to do?
I would suggest coming up with a reasonable goal for your one-on-ones, so you have something to work toward. The Season of Listening will extend from January to April (though I hope the practice of listening will be something that stays with us afterward!)
What if the idea of doing a one-on-one terrifies me?
This is not uncommon. Here is what I will tell you. Your level of terror will significantly decrease after your first one-on-one. Plus, we’ll talk about any terror that’s being experienced as a part of the training.
How will we share information from the one-one-ones?
Everyone who has been trained will share the information from their one-on-ones on a private googledoc. We will also have a place in worship where you can write down the most salient things you’re hearing in your one-on-ones so that other congregants can read them. We’ll also have an opportunity to hear about what you’re learning through your one-on-ones each week as a part of the sermon sharing. Finally, in the Spring, there will be a meeting to talk about what we’re hearing through the Season of Listening.
What will we do with the information we gather during the Season of Listening?
All the listening we’re doing with folks in our community is a way of listening to God. God speaks to us in many ways. One of those ways is through the people around us. My hunch is that, by listening to the voices of those in our community, we will begin to hear the voice of the Spirit nudging us toward our call. The Season of Listening will inform our decisions around our call to healing and justice work in the community. It will also inform our decisions around the new service that I’d like to launch this coming Spring. When we hear of hungers in our community, we will be moved to respond.
Where did the idea for the Season of Listening come from?
It came from a really lovely pastor who spoke about the Season of Listening his congregation did at a conference I went to. I never learned his name, but I am grateful to him, wherever he is!
Have you preached about the Season of Listening?
Why, funny you should ask. I introduced the Season of Listening for the first time this past Fall, in a sermon called Stand up Straight and Breathe.
January 4th, 2013
Special hint for cooking this at the Zen Center: Richard discovered that the frittata set and cooked best on the “convection roast” setting on the oven.
Serves 4
Ingredients
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 medium onion, thinly sliced
kosher salt and black pepper
5 ounces baby spinach (about 6 cups)
10 large eggs, beaten
4 ounces goat cheese, crumbled (about 1 cup)
5 ounces mixed greens (about 6 cups)
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
country bread, for serving
Directions
Heat oven to 400° F. Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a medium ovenproof nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onion and ½ teaspoon each salt and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until golden brown, 3 to 4 minutes.
Add the spinach and cook, tossing, until wilted, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the eggs and sprinkle with the goat cheese. Cook until the mixture begins to set around the edges, 1 to 2 minutes. Transfer the skillet to oven and bake until set, 10 to 12 minutes.
Dividing evenly, place the greens on plates and drizzle with the vinegar and the remaining oil; season with ¼ teaspoon each salt and pepper. Serve with the frittata and bread.
–Prepared with our help by Richard on Sunday, December 28, 2012
January 4th, 2013
by David Biespiel
After it came in like a dark bird
Out of the snow, barely whistling
The notes father, mother, child,
It was hard to say what made us happiest.
Seeing the branches where it had learned
To stir the air? The air that opened
Without fear? Just the branches
And us in a room of wild things?
Like a shapeless flame, it flew
A dozen times around the room.
And, in a wink, a dozen more.
Into the wall, the window, the door.
You said the world turns to parts.
You said the parts are cunning spheres.
You said you always love the face of sin.
You said it’s here, the lips and eyes and skin.
Outside the snow deepened
With heaves of discontent.
Inside, the tremor of our life
Flew in and in and in.
–Read at St. Lydia’s on December 28, 2012
January 4th, 2013
by Joseph Brodsky
When it’s Christmas we’re all of us magi.
At the grocers’ all slipping and pushing.
Where a tin of halva, coffee-flavored,
is the cause of a human assault-wave
by a crowd heavy-laden with parcels:
each one his own king, his own camel.
Nylon bags, carrier bags, cones of paper,
caps and neckties all twisted up sideways.
Reek of vodka and resin and cod
orange mandarins, cinnamon, apples.
Floods of faces, no sign of a pathway
toward Bethlehem, shut off by snow.
And the bearers of gifts, unassuming,
leap on buses and jam all the doorways,
disappear into courtyards that gape,
though they know that there’s nothing inside there:
not a beast, not a crib, nor yet Her,
round whose head gleams a nimbus of gold.
Emptiness. But the mere thought of that
brings forth lights as if out of nowhere.
Had Herod but known the stronger he seemed,
the more sure, the more certain the wonder.
Every year this constant relation
is the basic machinery of Christmas.
This they celebrate now everywhere,
for its coming push tables together.
No demand for a star yet awhile,
but a sort of goodwill touched with grace
can be seen in all men from afar,
and the shepherds have kindled their fires.
Snow is falling: not smoking but sounding
chimney pots on the roof, every face like a stain.
Herod drinks. Every wife hides her child.
He who comes is a mystery to no one:
but the signs are confusing, men’s hearts may
find it hard to acknowledge the stranger.
But the draft through the doorway will part
the thick mist of the hours of darkness
and a shape in a shawl stand revealed,
and the Christ-child and Spirit that’s Holy
will be sensed in the soul without shame;
a glance skyward will show it—the star.
–Read at St. Lydia’s on December 23, 2012
January 2nd, 2013
Read Emily’s latest sermon, “Kings vs. Shepherds” on her blog, Sit and Eat. The text is Luke 2:8-20 — the story of the shepherds visit to Jesus.
January 1st, 2013
Squeezebox is a place for our Song Leaders, as well as congregants, to learn the songs we sing at St. Lydia’s.
During Easter, we’ll sing this piece by Lillian Bouknight, “The Lord is My Light” as our candle lighting song. The text is drawn from Psalm 27.
January 1st, 2013
Squeezebox is a place for our Song Leaders, as well as congregants, to learn the songs we sing at St. Lydia’s.
Song Leaders and singers, here’s the place to find and practice ALL the music we’ll be singing during the fist few months of 2013! Bookmark this page so that you can check in often to listen to the pieces and practice.
Epiphany
January 6-February 10
Gathering Song: “Arise, Shine,” by Ruth Cunningham
Candle Lighting Song: “The Light of Christ Has Come Into the World,” by Donald Fishel
Eucharistic Prayer Setting: “Ordinary Time Table Acclamation,” by Emily Scott
Prayer Song: Song Leader’s Choice
Closing Hymn: “Songs of Thankfulness and Praise,” text by Christopher Wordsworth
Lent
February 11-March 17
Gathering Song: “Iona Kyrie,” by John Bell
Candle Lighting Song: “Come Light of Lights,” by Ana Hernandez
Eucharistic Prayer Setting: “Lent Table Acclamation,” by Emily Scott
Prayer Song: Song Leader’s Choice
Closing Hymn: “What Wondrous Love is This,” from The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion
Easter
March 30-April 12
Gathering Song: “Kiev Alleluia,” Kovalyevsky Kiev Chant
Candle Lighting Song: “The Lord is My Light,” Lillian Bouknight
Eucharistic Prayer Setting: “Festive Table Acclamation,” Paul Vasile
Prayer Song: Song Leader’s Choice
Closing Hymn: “Now the Green Blade Rises,” French Carol, or “Christ is Alive“
