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Sundays
8:00 a.m. Holy Eucharist
(spoken service)

10:00 a.m. Holy Eucharist
(with full choir, hymns)

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Holy Eucharist with Healing Prayer


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A Living Epistle
Given by Hope Flynn, co-chair of the diocesan Together Now campaign, on May 5, 2013

Good Morning, Church. So, I was in a Together Now Campaign meeting on Thursday, and we were discussing our plans and strategy and such. I was asked to write a Living Epistle for this Sunday – today - and I made some comment about an overflowing, holy, bottomless reservoir of blessings from the church as I accepted the task. I got some laughs, but, the statement remains completely true. My involvement in both Christ Church Andover and the larger church of the Diocese has consistently proven over these last three and a half years to be a place of unending love, acceptance, and solidarity. The community here in Andover is a wonderful little exemplar of what the Episcopal Church stands for, but that’s just it - it’s little. This is an incredibly well-connected, yet small, house of God. I could never have arrived at my current place in faith without it, but I also owe tribute to one branch of the larger church in particular.

The Barbara C. Harris Camp hasn’t been in my life for a very long time, but in the two summers and retreats I’ve spent in that beautiful reserve in New Hampshire, I began to solidify my foundation of faith while fostering a kinship pure and close to my heart. The Camp is one place where I feel truly alive and truly myself. All my experiences there were built on the driving need to bring the best possible experience to others, and it’s the perfect place to unify separate congregations into a larger plane. I remember when I was there last summer, and at the end of each week we did an activity with our small groups that involved everyone getting a piece of colored string. We’d go around the circle and say one thing we really admire about someone, tie the string around his or her wrist, and then move on to the next person. By the end of my turn I looked at my group and said, “Holy awesome guys, I’m going to cry.” And one of the counselors said to me, “If the spirit says cry, then go ahead and cry.” There were so many small moments like this that summer. By the end of one week I’d have been with another group and we’d already feel like we’d known each other forever. Each group had its own natural dynamic that could only be established by the power of the Youth Council’s mighty, uniting hands. I went back to the Camp and Conference Center for the pre-Confirmation retreat a couple of weeks ago. I looked around at the wood-paneled walls radiating protective warmth and pathways worn down from camper foot-traffic; I was immediately flooded with flashbacks to the summer before and to all the hands I hi-five’d and faces I saw and hearts I touched. It was like throughout the entirety of the weekend, my heart was having some kind of nostalgic emotional catharsis via sappy 80s montage. It was awesome.

And it can only get better as I continue to weave myself further into the beautiful tapestry of the Episcopal Diocese. I can only imagine what my future as a JC and – hopefully - a counselor will be like at this obscure, wooded area I’ve come to call “home”. However, based off of the memories I’ve collected, dancing in the breakfast line, embarrassing myself in games I was terrible at to get the fourth graders to laugh, and my favorite: singing Lean On Me with a shy camper who’d finally let loose at closing campfire as small crayola rockets burst over the lake, I can only look forward to whatever lay ahead. And I hope I can inspire others to regard it in the same radiant and endearing fashion.

Thank you.

Last Published: May 8, 2013 11:18 AM