A Second Year!

A YASCer at the seaside on Crosby Beach

Dear friends and readers of this blog, 

         I am excited to announce that I have been approved to spend another year in mission as a member of the Young Adult Service Corps placed in the Tsedaqah Community in the Diocese of Liverpool. My role will shift on emphasis a bit in the coming year, but retain the core foundations of my work this year. In the coming year, I will:

  • Serve as the Food Support Officer for the Micah Foodbank, Liverpool Cathedral’s hunger ministry, assisting in administrative work as well as coordinating volunteers who help run the two Foodbank sessions each week (that have operated throughout the pandemic!)
  • Publish academic work with the Canon Theologian concerning questionnaire results from a survey conducted last Christmas in the Cathedral
  • Continue to assist in various administrative duties in the Dean’s Office
  • Continue to worship in the Cathedral, where I assist at the altar, as well as participate in and help to lead the Daily Offices.

         It has been a privilege to continue to serve as a missionary throughout the coronavirus pandemic. I am humbled to have been able to play a small part in the mission of the Church in these particularly troubling and challenging times. Thank you all for your continued prayerful and other support throughout this year.

         The Global Mission Office of the Episcopal Church again requires me to fundraise $10,000 towards this year of mission. The pandemic has affected all of us in so many ways, but if you are able, I would invite you to support my second year of mission monetarily. There are two ways to contribute financially. One is by sending a check made out to St. Mary’s Episcopal Church and marked “Nelson Pike YASC” in the memo line, which you can mail to:

         St. Mary’s Episcopal Church

         P.O. Box 299

         Rockport, Massachusetts

         01966

         Another way to contribute financially is to use the giving portal on the St. Mary’s website, the link to which is here: http://stmarysrockport.org/. Click on the link at the top of the website that says, “We are now accepting donations using PayPal!”  When prompted to specify the purpose of the donation, please indicate “N. Pike YASC” where you can “Add a Note” to your donation.

         You all remain in my prayers as we all continue to follow Christ through this pandemic and beyond.

With gratitude,

Nelson

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

Holy Interruption

The Nave Altar in the Main Space of Liverpool Cathedral set for the 12.05 weekday Eucharist.

I was recently invited by the Dean of Liverpool to blog on prayerforliverpool.com. I’d like to share this blog with the readers of this blog as well. To see the post on Prayer for Liverpool, Liverpool Cathedral’s prayer blog during lockdown, follow the link above where you’ll find reflections by Cathedral folks three times a week, as well as resources for engagement with the Sunday Lectionary Gospel readings.

One of the duties that the Dean handed to me once the Cathedral emerged from lockdown was to help set up for the 12.05 weekday Eucharist. Since we opened, these take place now in the Main Space at the Nave Altar, mostly because it’s the most accessible in terms of wheelchair accommodation as well as social distancing precautions.

The practice of celebrating the Eucharist in the Main Space has taken on a new meaning. The main Space is arguably the busiest place in the Cathedral any day of the week. So at the service, it’s common to have people sat down within the barriers for the service, as well as roaming around or standing beyond them. Folks are always welcome to join us, and if I’m standing near the entrance of the barriers (which are there to facilitate social distancing as folks move around the Cathedral), I try to gesture to any and all that they are welcome to come and sit down and participate.

Something special occurs when our liturgy, our expression of our faith and the practices that to which our faith beckons us, is flung in front of the public eye like it is now in the Cathedral. Beyond anything else, I think it’s a mark of our hospitality that we worship centrally in our building and try to make other people, regardless of who they are or where they come from, as welcome as possible in our worship.

But I will make a confession: at first, I was suspicious. It almost felt rude to be doing all of this “religiousy” stuff in a space where during the week, secular tourists and casual visitors enjoy the art and architecture guided by our expert staff and volunteers. I felt as if we were interrupting their fun.

I’ve come to realise that sometimes, God is at his most poignant when He interrupts. Abraham, Moses, even St. Paul all attest to a surprising (and even unwelcome) intrusion by God into their lives that brought them to faith and arguably changed the course of their and our lives entirely.

Sometimes, that’s absolutely necessary. If we’re sunk in a life that feels like it has no meaning, or is bereft of love, or absolutely overwhelmed by the reality of the sinister chaos that each daily news briefing always seems to bring—the God in whom we believe has the power to interrupt our fear and both show us his love and call us to action.

I will never forget the time I confessed some trepidation leading the noontime prayers and announcing the service at the lectern one day. I said to Dean Sue, “I feel as if I’m interrupting them.” Her reply was to, “Remember that they might need to be interrupted.”

Liverpool Cathedral is a place of encounter, built by the people, for the people, to the glory of God. We can draw folks in with impressive architecture and scads of history, even a nice cuppa and slice of cake (though not at the moment for the latter unfortunately). But most importantly, we can then show visitors what all the glorious complexity of a Cathedral points to: the reality of God at work in human lives, who has more power than we can comprehend or imagine.

And a God who is never afraid to interrupt us for our own good.

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

Consecration

On Sunday, July 19th, the Cathedral celebrated, as it has every year, the anniversary of its consecration in 1924, and laying of its foundation stone in 1904. Every year, even through the world wars that have occurred since the Consecration, the special responses called the Rejoicings as penned by the first Dean, Frederick Dwelly, have been sung to mark this event liturgically in the life of the Cathedral, the refrain of which is:

Alleluia! The Lord is in his holy temple.

Alleluia! The Lord is here to Bless. Alleluia! Amen. 

This year, Consecration Sunday also marked the first time we could gather for public worship on Sunday morning in the Cathedral since March due to the lockdown. We began the liturgy that morning in the traditional way for Consecration Sunday, the Dean and Bishop of Liverpool walking in together from the Great West doors while the organ sounded a fanfare. 

I still am close to tears when I think back to standing in the congregation as they walked in together — socially distanced — and the Rejoicings were played as they moved through the congregation. Canon Myles and the Choral Scholars recorded these versicles and responses earlier that week (as choral rehearsals are permissible under the present conditions). Each time the refrain was repeated, I felt as if another layer of the tension of the last fourth months ease just a bit. We were finally able to return and worship in the Cathedral after not being able to for so long. 

As I looked through the Order of the Service for the Eucharist that morning, I found the four letters AMDG printed on the final page. I subsequently learned that the builders intentionally built Liverpool Cathedral AMDG, Ad maiorem Dei gloriam, to the greater glory of God, which is why they appeared on the Order of Service. Those initials of that Latin text are also written at the end of every original score J.S. Bach penned. 

When we build to God’s glory, our building takes on special status. As soon as the worship of God begins in a certain place, the normal parameters of time and even space melt away. Worship connects us with the saints of every age back to Christ himself, and the prophets before him. We step into eternity when we worship God. And a dedicated worship-building, like a Cathedral, also can take on this eternity, can take on a life of its own, though made and run by human hands. 

This eternal, awe-inspiring sense of holy in a Cathedral like Liverpool is present, I fully believe, even if no one can enter it. Our labour to catch a glimpse of the eternal through a Cathedral, even if inaccessible, is still visible, through its striking architecture, through its online presence, through its virtual worship. 

This pandemic lockdown has triggered questions of why we employ special sacred places for worship if they are essentially useless during a lockdown. I do believe that God is present, or can be sensed, anywhere. But I also believe that a space set apart for God is crucial for an honest sense of faith: when we go to church, we have given ourselves one task: to sense where God is in our lives and where we are in relation to God as we worship God. Dedicated sacred space also connects us with the ages that have gone before us in the faith and in that space, and reminds us that the Church of which Christ is the head exists not just around the world, but through time. We can also leave behind us a special space for God for the generations that will come after us. 

The purpose of all this eternity in temporality, this holy place, this Cathedral, is God’s: God is here to bless. The reason we bother building and inhabiting a Cathedral is to place ourselves in God’s loving embrace, who knows us, loves us, and re-ligions us back together when we are broken by the broken world. And my Lord, have the last four months shown us that we are a broken world. 

We can take heart. We can take heart that God is present in our lives, in our world, and is accessible to us in times of joy and times of sorrow. This present God is beyond all understanding, yet holds us under the shadow of Her wings and has never stopped caring for us. 

Thank God, then, that: 

Alleluia! The Lord is in his holy temple.

Alleluia! The Lord is here to Bless. Alleluia! Amen. 

AMDG

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

On July Fourth

An American Flag pillow in the Tsedaqah House

I was recently invited by the Dean of Liverpool to blog on prayerforliverpool.com on the theme of American Independence Day. I’d like to share this blog with the readers of this blog as well. To see the post on Prayer for Liverpool, Liverpool Cathedral’s prayer blog during lockdown, look here: https://www.prayerforliverpool.org/blog/on-july-fourth-reflection-by-nelson-of-the-tsedaqah-community

On July 4th, 1776, a group of British subjects got together in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to sign a document they’d spent many hours debating we know as “The Declaration of Independence.” They were doing something quite radical: employing rational thought to justify their taking up arms against the British crown and declaring themselves independent from its rule. The document they signed reads,

“When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.”

The signers had high hopes for the country they were envisioning:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

But perhaps now more than ever, this vision of the United States is aspirational at best. Full equality has yet to be realized, yet to be won in the United States, for all who are created equal. The #BlackLivesMatter movement has brought to public attention the inequalities and abuses afforded Black Americans by white supremacy knit into the fabric of the United States. Americans have been systematically and intentionally denied the rights, endowed by their Creator, that are theirs unalienably.

There were slaveholders among the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Thomas Jefferson, who drafted much of the Declaration, was a famous slaveholder who fathered many children with female slaves. Even George Washington didn’t release his slaves until the death of his wife. (While Washington wasn’t present at the signing, he was General of the Continental Army that was the fighting force behind the Declaration.)

The signers of a document that professed the equality of all humanity owned other human beings. And as United States, we’re still coming to terms with the fact that we were built largely by slavery. A great place to start learning about the legacy of slavery in the United States is to participate in the Virtual Pilgrimage for Racial Justice that the Church of the Heavenly Rest, an Episcopal Church in the US, led last week. The first video of the pilgrimage is here: https://www.facebook.com/heavenlyrest/videos/564156074490988/?eid=ARAq495gww0mVCSSrdFutXFOHQ7EnaYlNT8S8_205s295WVvPrPoFevvxA1JfMGo1jFB5Pi8TJ4tpGyR. There’s tons of literature concerning the history of racism in the US, but an accessible introduction is Racecraft: The Soul of Inequality in American Life, by Karen E. and Barbara J. Fields (It may take some hunting to find this book, but a good place to start is here: https://www.versobooks.com/books/1645-racecraft. Or, try Amazon in the UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Racecraft-Soul-Inequality-American-Life-ebook/dp/B00G2DO7OO/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr or Amazon in the US: https://www.amazon.com/Racecraft-Soul-Inequality-American-Life/dp/1781683131.

The Diocese of Liverpool has been paving the way in acknowledging the slavery-ridden past of the city and the church. To learn more, visit the Triangle of Hope website: https://thetriangleofhope.com/, the Tsedaqah Community website: https://thetriangleofhope.com/tsedaqah, and order the book, Two Triangles, by Ken Pye and Canon Malcolm Rogers that traces slavery in Liverpool to the present day and begins to look to a future marked by reparation and reconciliation. The link to the book is here: https://www.cathedralshop.com/products/two-triangles-by-ken-pye once the Cathedral shop is open again, or try here: https://www.discover-liverpool.com/publications/books/two-triangles-liverpool-slavery-and-the-church/.

I don’t celebrate July Fourth proud of everything the country of which I am a citizen has done in its past. But I will celebrate the holiday in the hope that we will actually inch closer to the dream of equality in the United States within my lifetime and beyond.

Nelson

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

Forget-Me-Not

I’ve never had to be the gardener before. Sure, I’ve laboured in a garden before, but at other people’s instruction and in their garden. When the lockdown came into effect, I was in a house with some desk work to do and to help pack parcels for MICAH once a week, but not too much else. So I turned to the garden. I hadn’t done much out there at all as general busyness and the autumn and winter weather had me otherwise occupied and not wanting to go outside. Spring was springing, however, and the garden needed to spring with it. 

I’ve recently posted pictures of the backyard we have at the Tsedaqah House. It’s small but lovely, with flowering shrubs and nice furniture helping to make it a great space to soak up some sun, read a book, or enjoy a quiet evening outside. I love spending time in a garden, as the saying says, “One is nearer God’s heart in a garden more than anywhere else on earth.” 

An unexpected project (besides rearranging the outdoor furniture and flower pots which I’ve loved doing since age five as my mother will tell you) became transplanting and caring for a few of the (previously planted?) Forget-Me-Nots beneath one of the shrubs. I really needed to mow the lawn, but these tiny blue flowers had spread into the grass, and I didn’t want to just mow them down, so I decided to transplant them to some window boxes on the patio and hoped for the best. 

It’s no accident that the beginning of the relationship between divinity and humanity took place in a garden, according to our inherited Scriptural narrative. God, the Divine Gardener, has us in his care and gives us what we need to flourish in that care, and we commit to continuing in that life-giving relationship. 

Very important: being a disciple is a process, and it takes time. 

The Forget-Me-Nots have been pretty easy keepers, but I have had to make sure they were in just the right spot on the patio to get just the right amount of sun, and that I watered them when the rain hadn’t taken care of that for me. I needed (and need!) to continuously tend the garden with whose care I have been entrusted. 

Our Divine Gardener takes the same care of us (though certainly knows more about us than I do about plants!). Our responsibility is to soak up the nourishment and produce fruit to God’s glory, and this takes time, too. We glorify God in our big and small growth, patiently working and incrementally growing until we finally meet Christ in eternity. We ought to rejoice in our process-selves here in the earthly garden, enjoying what God has wrought and is working within us. 

I’m naturally someone for whom longer projects are a “growing edge.” I like getting things done quickly and sometimes find activities whose ends I cannot see at their beginnings difficult. During the lockdown, I’m learning to live with the uncertain and the unfinished. I am learning to remember to tend my garden, and more importantly to let God tend God’s. I am learning to pay closer attention to each step in the process. And I am remembering to trust Christ more, who knows all things and has the whole world in His hands. 

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

You’ll Never Walk Alone

A Tsedaqah House Sunset, St. James’ Mount, Liverpool

Dean Sue has said repeatedly in her posts on prayerforliverpool.org that the current pandemic is a “long Good Friday.” Having recently undergone Good Friday during the pandemic, I can attest to the veracity of Dean Sue’s theological claim.

Good Friday does feel long. The liturgy of this day—when we can observe it—demands long minutes spent in contemplation “of those mighty acts” by listening to the Passion, kneeling before the wood of the cross as the Reproaches echo forward Jesus’ powerful lament, and staring at a barren altar without Sacrament. 

COVID-19 has indeed placed many of us in a long Good Friday. Some of us cannot be present to wait at the bedsides of the dying, and some of us can’t even be near when we bury our dead. As economic uncertainty grows, more of us are going to go without what we need. And we still have to isolate, which will mean many of us will continue to feel utterly alone. 

We have lost people we love because of this virus, in a similar way to losing the One who loves us on Calvary. 

COVID-19 has also placed many of us in a long Holy Saturday. As the rhythm of Holy Week progresses, the long emptiness of Good Friday gives way to a similar emptiness on Holy Saturday—but it’s of a different kind. The altar is still bare, but there’s no liturgy to say that we haven’t already said. I have always felt impatient on Holy Saturday, excited for the pre-eminent Vigil liturgy that evening, but having to wait and watch before night falls and the paschal fire can be kindled once again. 

For those of us stuck in isolation at the moment, the news isn’t helping—it’s slipping us into an anticipatory Holy Saturday mode. We long to be set free to go to work and play again with other households. I’m going bananas not being able to go into the Cathedral, which has come to feel like home.

The stone is still sealed over the entrance to the tomb. 

If I’m honest, the idea that evil, when it happens to us, is inherently deserved or meant to randomly test us has never felt like an adequate explanation as to why we suffer. Evil is far more complicated than that—and like God, why and what it truly is will always just elude our understanding. Evil is not something we can explain or justify or even quantify. It is simply a given in the nature of our existence, and I think we can all agree that it is most certainly a fact of our own lives right now. 

Here’s the Good News, though: Jesus gets it. Jesus knew what it was to suffer. His humanity and divinity were nailed on the tree. He was despised and rejected. He was beaten, flogged, and pierced. He died an agonizing death. And thanks be to God, right? Because the Cross of Christ, his Suffering, is balm for us in the shadow of death. We are not alone and can never be apart from the One who has endured it all before and continues to endure the burden with us.

Beyond death, isolation has been among the worst consequences of COVID-19 for many of us. But Christ, in whom we live and move and have our being, has the innate ability to be with us and know exactly what we are going through. We are known by Christ, and so loved. And while we still wait for the end to this virus, we can have solace in our Christian hope that resurrection will break forth in the end. 

Break forth, O beauteous heav’nly light, 

to herald our salvation; 

He stoops to earth–the God of might, 

our hope and expectation. 

He comes in human flesh to dwell, 

our God with us, Immanuel; 

the night of darkness ending, 

our fallen race befriending.

— Johan von Rist

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

Christ’s Stable Order

I have found myself thinking back often to Winston Churchill’s description of WWII as, “a time to try men’s souls.” It often feels like the world is on trial these days. To make it worse, we can’t physically be in one another’s presence—so this scary time is compounded by profound isolation for all of us.

And yet. Our persistent tradition always seems to have something to say and something to teach us. The still, small voice of calm is audible enough if we can quiet the news and our minds. Jesus Christ “the master of the sea” still says “Be still!” to the chaos and orders the peace that passes all understanding. He enters our locked rooms and declares, “Peace be with you.” 

Living under the restrictions has been an opportunity to gain new insight into what it really means to be the Church. We use that word, “church” probably too much on its own to describe a church building. Because, the Church, the Body of Christ, is us. We, the people, are the Church, whom God has called to mission and ministry. We can weather anything, because the church’s record in regard to large scale disaster—persecution, plague—is actually rather good. The Body of Christ can and will continue, because our history informs that we can, and Jesus promises that we will. It is down to the persistent belief in God and ourselves that we can both survive and stabilize our surroundings. 

That has meant, however, in the current situation, getting creative. The canons of the Cathedral continue to meet for the offices, but via Microsoft Teams and while remaining at home (and I get to tag along). The Cathedral has continued to offer an opportunity for weekly worship on Sunday morning by sharing a pre-recorded video on our new blog created to keep us all connected: prayerforliverpool.org. I’ve had the continuing pleasure of collating the daily post by one of the Clergy clergy for this blog and sharing it on the Cathedral’s Facebook Page. It has been heartening to see the appreciation for the digital resources the Canons offered throughout Holy Week. MICAH Liverpool have also been creative in complying with social distancing regulations while continuing to run the Food Bank. I’m so appreciative of the opportunity of continuing to help packing food parcels on Thursdays.

The Church of which Jesus Christ is the head has always had the ability to adapt to new situations in which she may find herself. Church history as a whole could be considered a balancing act between inherited tradition and the discernment of the new. But the Church in all things is inspired by the Holy Spirit, maintaining the stability of the witness and worship of Christ who is the be all, end all—literally. 

We can take solace in that stability. We can continue to pray and consider Scripture and let Jesus guide our lives, just as we would before. Our prayers both connect us to the Divine, but to the centuries’ worth of other souls who have lifted their lives to the Crucified One, who promises us His presence to the very end. While isolated, we aren’t ever alone. 

A time like now demands our witness. But this pandemic is also a reminder that the only stability we can really trust is Christ’s. We have the opportunity now to live into the interplay of world chaos and Christly order. Our call is to discern and act on the part we can play towards bringing about the holy order of God. But more importantly, we must let Christ speak to the world that is sick, in pain, and dying. As God’s church, Christ becomes present when we act in his name. And we will soon realize that we’re not doing our own work, but God’s. 

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

The Unintended Consequences of Praying the Daily Office

My previous experience of daily worship was once daily (a few times a week) when in university. Before coming to Liverpool I had some expectations based on previous worship experiences, I’ve not attended services “as regularly” as I have in Liverpool these past six months (and don’t get me started on how quickly this first half of the year has flown by!). 

I should mention my time at Holy Cross Monastery for Discernment and Orientation for participating in YASC. The Brothers offer five services a day, which I soaked up eagerly. Suffice to say, I was expecting and anticipating regular attendance at corporate worship throughout the week while a residential member of the Tsedaqah House. 

As much as I love it, worship and prayer are not activities confined to corporate liturgy in the Cathedral. The idea of all of life being prayer and an opportunity for communion with the Divine are among the ideals of the monastic life. We can (and should when safe to do so, which isn’t the case at the moment sadly) enrich the everyday life of prayer with dedicated periods of getting together (i.e., the Daily Offices and the Holy Eucharist). But if the only time we as Christians feel connected to Christ is in a church building, then we’re missing an opportunity for the full experience of a Christ-centered life. A “day job” looks different for each of us, but it can be part of our mission as Christians to search out and intentionally appreciate the presence of God on the bus, in the office, or in the living room (or the parlour if I’m feeling particularly posh). 

Worship is an offering to God first and foremost of our time, presence, and prayer, and we do it corporately as an indication of the communal nature of the Call of Christ. But what has become apparent to me over the course of these last six months is that corporate worship gives back as much as it takes. Having a separate, dedicated space for reflection and meditation does wonders for spiritual, mental, even physical health. I love the ability sometimes in Evensong to stop the turning wheels of my brain and to sit in silence before God. Placing ourselves before God is indeed a part of our worship of Him. 

It may sound obvious, but worship also helps grow and deepen the faith we’ve claimed. One of the specific ways in which that happens is the use of the Daily Office Lectionary. Passages of Scripture have been selected and laid out for reading on the different services of the different days of the year, and all are conveniently at your fingertips in various apps according to the various lectionaries around the communion. Indeed, at Morning Prayer in the Cathedral, many Canons are to be found using their phone apps to follow along with the liturgy! 

One moment I’ll never forget was the time I was reading (as us Tsedaqites are asked to that every now and again) from Paul and the lesson is going on and then all of a sudden he breaks into his classic “A woman shall learn in submission…and keep her head covered…a woman shall not speak in church” schtick and it falls to me to read all this without rolling my eyes. Ironic that Canon Ellen was leading the Office that morning and sat there in her cassock having spoken the words of the office as prescribed in the Common Worship Books. 

After Morning Prayer, we move out of the Chapter House (which is essentially an octagonal chapel with an altar) and usually have a good chat or two, and a frequent topic of conversation is often “Well, Paul certainly was having a bad day that day” or “Joseph was sure sneaky by deceiving his brothers like that” or whatever the bizarre bit of the readings turned out to be that day. And honestly, reading the Bible in this way (liturgically and methodically) is the best thing for us. There are bits of the Bible I’d rather not talk about as much as others, but the Lectionary keeps me honest, and forces me to confront, acknowledge, and hopefully embrace what God has revealed beneath and behind the words of Scripture, especially those bits I’d rather not talk about. And it’s absolutely vital that this digging into Scripture is a communal activity. No one of us will ever know the unknowable mystery that is the God we worship, and Jesus’ Call to Discipleship wasn’t individual, it was a communal call. God incarnates wherever two or three are gathered together in His Name and consider the salvific narrative of Scripture that will lead us into eternal life. 

Dean Sue has started a new custom for us in Lent—in place of the new Testament Reading, we’ve been reading a portion of the Rule of St. Benedict at Morning Prayer. I’ve encountered his Rule before, but not in the depth that regular readings like this provide. Early on, I was struck at how utilitarian his Rule is, how “followable” it is designed to be. He exhorts his listeners to prepare themselves for the discipline of living in community, which has continued to puzzle me. We do need to prepare ourselves for the discipline of living a Christian Life, because it takes work. It takes work to get up and pray together each day and it takes work to meditate on God’s Word. But we get as much as we give: “For those … who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

What we find in Jesus is who we truly are. 

We find ourselves. 

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

A Dusty Vocation

One habit I’ve developed over the years of being a regular church goer is after a major feast, like Christmas for instance, I usually look ahead to “the next big liturgical season”, in this case Lent and Holy Week. Now, fair enough if you’re planning liturgies or coordinating schedules. But when I was growing up (and this year too!), I started preparing for Lent by listening to the Lenten liturgical cds I have on my laptop early in January. To be honest, it does feel a bit weird to be listening to penitential chant with the Christmas tree still up. But as Canon Malcolm will tell you, “Nelson, he’s just a little bit weird.” And my mother will tell you the same thing. 

Last month, however, I attended a service at a crematorium just outside Liverpool. I got the “grand tour” of the facilities, and saw the way the coffins move from the chapels through the process to  result in a small urn of ashes in the end. Now, I’ve been acolyting and assisting at funerals since maybe age 10, so I’m somewhat used to being around human remains and cremains. In fact, over January I played the organ for two funeral services at St. Margaret’s, Toxteth (and would have also at the crematorium but the organ didn’t work). But before my visit to the “crem,” I had yet to see the inner workings of the cremation process. 

Being in the crematorium reminded me of the words used in the BCP 1979 for the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” No matter who we are or what we do in this life—basket weaving, softball, or ritual satanism—we will all one day leave it and return to the earth in one way or another. 

Ash Wednesday is a reminder of more than our mortal coil, however; the day is also a glaring reminder of our present condition: dust. Made in the divine image and ruach-filled we may be, but we are still made of what began as a dusty collection of molecules and atoms. Wondrously made, and yet dust. “You are dust.

When the Liverpool Cathedral Learning Community convened for two days this past month, I had the opportunity of hearing research updates from several folks who have made progress on various projects I heard about in September, at our last meeting. One rural-based vicar is working on a project trying to understand why the tiny parish of which he is priest has such high numbers on a Sunday, which using the 1662 Book of Common Prayer in the low church tradition as its mode of worship. I will never forget his comment of a frequent fear he has, that, “I’m worried that we’re a museum,” that is, doing Christianity in an older way but not really getting anything out of it. 

Christianity has been accused of many things, not the least of which is this idea of being a museum, where liturgy and words and music happen but not much else. I think of Marx’s critique of religion as being the “opiate of the masses,” only a deluded escape from the world controlled by the powerful and not effectual for real change or improvement in the world in which we live. 

Now, I will grant you that Christianity is weird. We wear weird clothes (mozettas and chasubles and rochets, oh my), do weird things (drink blood and eat flesh), and read weird books (the Bible). We often meet in old and grand buildings and also in storefronts. We have many ways of organizing—or not organizing—ourselves. And we all have something to say about this Jesus Christ who has called us into His service which has a major impact on our lives and how we live them. Heck, we spend forty days each year being reminded that we are dust. To be dust is our vocation. The same atomic dust that makes up the stars of the heavens and the creatures of the deep also make up our inmost parts. 

The radical thing about Christianity is that we don’t do this alone, all this dusty work. We are called by Christ to be active in His service, which means serving our neighbors. Here in Liverpool Cathedral, that means we’re engaged in feeding the hungry and clothing the poor. And too, there are hungry people who come to the Cathedral for a moment of quiet, prayer, in a beautiful space; set apart from the business of the world for reflection and contemplation. Where we can get in touch with our dustiness and start acting like it. 

We are dust, to dust we shall return, and in spite of that, or in fact, because of that, we work together to change the world in which we live. Weird, yes. Bizarre, yes. But our founder was a carpenter’s son who got some fishermen and a few other guys together to teach and heal and transform the world. And we still are being transformed 2,000 down the ages. With that track record, I’d say that we’re just weird enough to leave a world with more love in it than when we found it. 

Dust thou art. Dust we are. And we’re all dust together. 

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.

Young Adult Service Corps Missionary Report

In the US Episcopal Church, each parish holds an Annual Meeting every year to conduct the business of the Church—electing officers, approving budgets, and the like, as required by Canon. As a member of YASC, I am sent and commissioned not only by the Presiding Bishop but also my home parish of St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Rockport, Massachusetts. As such, I submitted a written report for St. Mary’s Annual Meeting this year, and now I’d like to share it with all of you. I’d like to extend the thank you at the end of the letter to my blog readers as well—I’m so encouraged at the reception and feedback I receive. Thank you!

Greetings from Liverpool, UK! It’s been such an amazing year of mission abroad so far, and I’m struggling to believe that I’m already four months into my time here. 

Those of you who subscribe to my blog (nelsoninliverpool.com) have a bit of an idea of what I’m up to. I live in Tsedaqah House, which is located on the Close of Liverpool Cathedral, as a member of the Tsedaqah Community. Tsedaqah is a Hebrew verb meaning “to do justice,” as found in Micah 6:8: “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Ideally, there are three members of the Community, one representing each linked Diocese in the Triangle of Hope partnership: Virginia in the US, Liverpool in the UK, and Kumasi in Ghana. I represent the US in the House, and my colleague Jen is from Liverpool. Unfortunately, our Ghanian counterpoint was unable to join us because of VISA issues. However, we were delighted to welcome Fr Kessie, the Triangle of Hope Link person from the Diocese of Kumasi in Ghana, to stay with us in the Fall.

From where I sit writing this, I look out on a beautiful view—the flood lit windows of the Lady Chapel of Liverpool Cathedral. From where I live (Lady Chapel Close), I hear the tower bells ring (for six hours on New Year’s Day), and occasionally even the organ and choir if they’re going full throttle. Mind you, I’m usually to be found in the Cathedral itself when music is to be heard or services are to occur, which should surprise no one.

Life here in Liverpool is wonderfully busy. My work outside the House is as the Cathedral Assistant, which means I support some of the administrative work in the Dean’s Office (where I sit at the desk previously occupied by now Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby when he was Dean of Liverpool). Jen and I also serve as lay Officiants at Morning and Evening Prayer, as well regularly attending the daily rounds of the Offices in the Cathedral when we can. I also serve as a member of the Thursday volunteer team at the MICAH Food Bank for the day to help feed the hungry. We also run a guest room, and therefore Jen and I are regularly making sure that the working guest room is fit for purpose.

One thing that I have learned this year is that even though the Anglican Communion is wonderfully diverse in all of its various contexts, all of us are engaged in one common mission, which is to make known the Good News of God in Jesus Christ in all that we say and do. We all are missionaries of Christ, and whether we volunteer at MICAH Liverpool or at Open Door on Cape Ann, we are engaged in the same work that brings a message of Love into a world that so desperately needs it.

Thank you all, so much, for incredible support you have so generously given me to be able to serve abroad this year, both prayerful and financial. None of what I’ve been able to to and experience this year would be possible without the formation and support of St. Mary’s I’ve been so lucky to receive throughout my life. I’m so grateful for the wild ride it’s been and hopefully will continue to be wherever Christ leads me in the future. 

Respectfully Submitted, 

Nelson Pike

Thanks for reading this update on my missionary blog! I’m a missionary of The Episcopal Church, serving in Liverpool, UK. Make sure to subscribe at the bottom of the home page to get an email when I next post an update. God bless, and thank you!

Eager to read more? Check out the “Meet the YASCers” page of the website of the Young Adult Service Corps (YASC) of the Episcopal Church to find the blogs of my missionary colleagues: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/YASC/meet-yascers.