Sunday in Szeged
A week ago I arrived in Szeged, Hungary. Szeged is a southern town in Hungary and is a university town. The town is beautiful and everyone I have met so far is very kind.
I could write pages about how wonderful my flat mate is, as well as the seminary student who is interning at the church I am working at. But that is for another time. For this blog, I would like to share my experience at church my first Sunday here.
To begin, my mentor is the pastor at the Lutheran church in Szeged. He asked me the day before service if I would be willing to introduce myself to the congregation. I automatically assumed I would need to do it in Hungarian and began practicing the little bit I knew nonstop.
When my memoir asked me to introduce myself, I began with Jó napot kívánok (I wish you a good day) and the look that I took to be surprise from my mentor clued me into the idea that he was expecting to translate for me. I was relieved to know the expectations set upon me were not as high as I had placed upon myself, but I was also excited to be able to communicate at least a small amount in the language my community spoke. I was able to introduce myself Callie vagyok (I am Callie) Amerikaí vagyok (I am American) Ameikaban Illinoisban élek (I live in Illinois in America) Angolul beszelek és kicsit magyerul beszelek (I speak English and a little Hungarian) and Seretum langos és rantott sajt és seretum Jézus (I like langos and fried cheese and I love Jesus). My mentor made a joke in Hungarian and then explained to me that the way I listed my likes made it sound as if I like langos, fried cheese, and then Jesus. Not that I loved Jesus the most. It felt nice to laugh along with the congregation at my mistake, and at the next service I fixed the order.
Yes, at the next service. Because on Sunday I attended three services at three churches with my mentor.
The first service was at the actual church in Szeged. My mentor played guitar as well as a member playing flute and another base guitar while we sang songs. The congregation was mixed in ages and a similar size to my home congregation. This Sunday was a family service, meaning the kids stayed the whole service. There are different services depending on which Sunday of the month it is.
In the afternoon I attended a service done by my mentor in Makó, which is about 30 minutes east of Szeged. My mentor goes to a church there every Sunday. The church itself is old but beautiful. According to my mentor, the church averages 10-12 people each week for service. This past Sunday there were three ladies, an organist, my mentor, the seminary intern, and me. Despite the small gathering, my mentor had the same energy he had during the first service. It was obvious that he did not care about how many people were there to worship, but rather that someone wanted to worship.
On the third Sunday of the Month, my mentor goes 30 minutes west of Szeged to a nursing home in Kistelek for a service. The number of people who attend varies based on who is in the nursing home and is Lutheran, as well as who in the community attends. This Sunday there were two people besides my mentor, the seminary intern, and I. Once again, my mentor had energy and gave these two ladies the same wonderful worship service as all of the others.
After service we stopped at a bakery owned by one of the ladies. She was very kind and insisted we take cake home with us. I took home two pieces of cake, both of which I could not pronounce the name of but where absolutely delicious. One was a dense cake with a vanilla like cream in between layers and a whipped cream like topping, and the other was a walnut and gramcracker type crust with a layer of vanilla whipped cream/pudding of some sort and then a layer of baked apples and then more of the cream/pudding topped of with whipped cream and chocolate.
This past Sunday was wonderful. I may not have understood anything being said during the sermon, but I was moved by how God is at work here in Szeged and through my mentor. It takes a special person to keep the energy up through multiple services with few people, and to feel those services are worth continuing week to week and month to month. My community is open and welcoming and forgiving of my lack of knowledge of their language. I am excited to grow in relationship with my mentor and my community here as my journey continues.
I could write pages about how wonderful my flat mate is, as well as the seminary student who is interning at the church I am working at. But that is for another time. For this blog, I would like to share my experience at church my first Sunday here.
To begin, my mentor is the pastor at the Lutheran church in Szeged. He asked me the day before service if I would be willing to introduce myself to the congregation. I automatically assumed I would need to do it in Hungarian and began practicing the little bit I knew nonstop.
When my memoir asked me to introduce myself, I began with Jó napot kívánok (I wish you a good day) and the look that I took to be surprise from my mentor clued me into the idea that he was expecting to translate for me. I was relieved to know the expectations set upon me were not as high as I had placed upon myself, but I was also excited to be able to communicate at least a small amount in the language my community spoke. I was able to introduce myself Callie vagyok (I am Callie) Amerikaí vagyok (I am American) Ameikaban Illinoisban élek (I live in Illinois in America) Angolul beszelek és kicsit magyerul beszelek (I speak English and a little Hungarian) and Seretum langos és rantott sajt és seretum Jézus (I like langos and fried cheese and I love Jesus). My mentor made a joke in Hungarian and then explained to me that the way I listed my likes made it sound as if I like langos, fried cheese, and then Jesus. Not that I loved Jesus the most. It felt nice to laugh along with the congregation at my mistake, and at the next service I fixed the order.
Yes, at the next service. Because on Sunday I attended three services at three churches with my mentor.
The first service was at the actual church in Szeged. My mentor played guitar as well as a member playing flute and another base guitar while we sang songs. The congregation was mixed in ages and a similar size to my home congregation. This Sunday was a family service, meaning the kids stayed the whole service. There are different services depending on which Sunday of the month it is.
In the afternoon I attended a service done by my mentor in Makó, which is about 30 minutes east of Szeged. My mentor goes to a church there every Sunday. The church itself is old but beautiful. According to my mentor, the church averages 10-12 people each week for service. This past Sunday there were three ladies, an organist, my mentor, the seminary intern, and me. Despite the small gathering, my mentor had the same energy he had during the first service. It was obvious that he did not care about how many people were there to worship, but rather that someone wanted to worship.
On the third Sunday of the Month, my mentor goes 30 minutes west of Szeged to a nursing home in Kistelek for a service. The number of people who attend varies based on who is in the nursing home and is Lutheran, as well as who in the community attends. This Sunday there were two people besides my mentor, the seminary intern, and I. Once again, my mentor had energy and gave these two ladies the same wonderful worship service as all of the others.
After service we stopped at a bakery owned by one of the ladies. She was very kind and insisted we take cake home with us. I took home two pieces of cake, both of which I could not pronounce the name of but where absolutely delicious. One was a dense cake with a vanilla like cream in between layers and a whipped cream like topping, and the other was a walnut and gramcracker type crust with a layer of vanilla whipped cream/pudding of some sort and then a layer of baked apples and then more of the cream/pudding topped of with whipped cream and chocolate.
This past Sunday was wonderful. I may not have understood anything being said during the sermon, but I was moved by how God is at work here in Szeged and through my mentor. It takes a special person to keep the energy up through multiple services with few people, and to feel those services are worth continuing week to week and month to month. My community is open and welcoming and forgiving of my lack of knowledge of their language. I am excited to grow in relationship with my mentor and my community here as my journey continues.
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