Sunday Service, 24 November 2024
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: May Peace be With You by Annie Garretson (performed by the Heart of London Threshold Singers): May Peace be with you / Peace be with you now / May peace be with you always / Peace be with you / Now and always
Opening Words: ‘We Need One Another’ by George E. Odell (adapted)
We need one another when we mourn and would be comforted.
We need one another when we are in trouble and afraid.
We need one another when we are in despair, in temptation,
and need to be recalled to our best selves again.
We need one another when we would accomplish
some great purpose, and cannot do it alone.
We need one another in the hour of success,
when we look for someone to share our triumphs.
We need one another in the hour of defeat, when with
encouragement we might endure, and stand again.
We need one another when we come to die, and
would have gentle hands prepare us for the journey.
All our lives we are in need, and others are in need of us.
So, in this sacred time we’ve set aside this morning to be together,
let us gently acknowledge both the needs and the gifts that each of us bring. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These opening words by George Odell welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those of you who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining us via Zoom, and anyone watching on YouTube or listening to the podcast. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.
This morning – as you’ve probably already gathered – we have a special service as we are joined by our honoured guests the Heart of London Threshold Singers. Later in the service Natacha Ledwidge, their founder and director, will speak about the activities of the choir, which sings at the bedsides of people who are dying, and offers blessings and comfort to them in the last days of their life.
And inspired by the work of the Threshold Choir, this morning we’re going to be gently reflecting on thresholds – specifically the threshold between life and death – and encouraging greater acceptance of death as part of life – facing that reality and perhaps even embracing it – so we can live ever more fully, deeply, authentically – and make the most of this one precious life we’ve each been given.
Chalice Lighting: ‘Our Guiding Principles’ by Jane Blackall
Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. It’s a moment for us to stop and take a breath, settle ourselves down, put aside any preoccupations we came in carrying. This simple ritual connects us in solidarity with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proud and historic progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part.
(light chalice)
May the light of this chalice be a reminder of the
shared values and principles around which we gather:
upholding the inherent worth and dignity of every person;
cherishing all those diverse creatures and habitats
with whom we share this Earth, our home;
seeking human liberation and flourishing;
serving the common good of all.
Hymn 111 (purple): ‘O Brother Sun, Sister Moon’
Let’s sing together. Our first hymn is number 111 in your purple hymnbook, ‘O Brother Sun, Sister Moon’. For those joining via zoom the words will be up on screen (as they will for all our hymns). Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s sing up as best we can. Hymn 111.
O Brother Sun, you bring us light,
all shining ‘round in fiery might.
O Sister Moon, you heal and bless,
your beauty shines in tenderness.
O Brother Wind, you sweep the hills,
your mighty breath both freshens and fills.
O Sister Water, you cleanse and flow
through rivers and streams, in ice and snow.
O Brother Fire, you warm our night
with all your dancing coloured light.
O Sister Earth, you feed all things,
all birds, all creatures, all scales and wings.
O Sister Death, you meet us here
and take us to our God so near.
O God of Life, we give you praise
for all your creatures, for all your ways.
Candles of Joy and Concern:
Each week when we gather together, we share a simple ritual of candles of joy and concern, an opportunity to light a candle and share something that is in our heart with the community. So we’ve an opportunity now, for anyone who would like to do so, to light a candle and say a few words about what it represents. We’ll go to the people in the building first, then to Zoom.
So I invite some of you here in person to come and light a candle and then if you wish to tell us briefly who or what you light your candle for. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak this time as I really want people to be able to hear you and I don’t want to keep nagging you about getting close to the handheld mic. And if you can’t get to the microphone give me a wave and I’ll bring a handheld mic over to you. Thank you.
(in person candles)
And if that’s everyone in the room we’ll go over to the people on Zoom next – you might like to switch to gallery view at this stage – just unmute yourselves when you are ready and speak out – and we should be able to hear you and see you up on the big screen here in the church.
(zoom candles)
And I’m going to light one more candle, as we often do, to represent all those joys and concerns that we hold in our hearts this day, but which we don’t feel able to speak out loud. (light candle)
Time of Prayer & Reflection: based on words by Richard Lovis
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on words by Richard Lovis. You might first want to adjust your position for comfort, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever works for you. Do whatever you need to do to get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – to be fully present here and now, in this sacred time and space – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us. (pause)
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being,
we turn our full attention to you, the light within and without,
as we tune in to the depths of this life, and the greater wisdom
to which – and through which – we are all intimately connected.
Be with us now as we allow ourselves to drop into the
silence and stillness at the very centre of our being. (pause)
In coming here to worship we each bring with us our own deepest needs,
and the deepest needs of those we love and care about.
Some of us bring the need to express thanks,
because we are aware that there is more to our
cause for thankfulness than anyone can take credit for.
Some of us bring the need to be contrite and to feel forgiven
because we realise that in spite of all our efforts to make amends
there are still wounds left unhealed, and things that were
said and done, which cannot be unsaid or undone.
Some of us bring the need for comfort and for consolation
because there is distress or loss in our lives or in the wider world
which is beyond the reach of gentle words and gestures of kindly souls.
Some of us bring the need for guidance and direction
because the tangle of life seems too complex
for reason and advice alone to unravel.
So in a few quiet moments let us take some time to pray inwardly the prayers of our own hearts;
calling to mind all those souls we know to be suffering this day, whether close to home, or
on the other side of the world. Let us hold all these sacred beings in the light of love. (pause)
Let us also pray for ourselves; we too are sacred beings who face our own struggles and muddle
through life’s ups and downs. So let us take a few moments to reflect on our own lives, and
ask for what we most need this day – comfort, forgiveness, or guidance – to flourish. (pause)
And let us take just a little longer to remember the good things in life and give thanks for them.
Those moments in the past week where we’ve encountered generosity, kindness, or pleasure.
Let us cultivate a spirit of gratitude as we recall all those moments that lifted our spirits. (pause)
Spirit of Life – God of all Love – as this time of prayer comes to a close, we offer up
our joys and concerns, our hopes and fears, our beauty and brokenness,
and we call on you for insight, healing, and renewal.
As we look forward now to the coming week,
help us to live well each day and be our best selves;
using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice and peace. Amen.
Reading: ‘In Between’ by Victoria Safford (David to read)
One afternoon some time ago I brought my little baby out to visit a very, very old neighbour, who was dying that year, quietly and gracefully, in her gracious home. We were having a little birthday party for her, with sherry and cake and a few old friends gathered round her bed. To free a hand to cut the cake, I put my baby down right on the bed, right up on the pillow - and there was a sudden hush in the room, for we were caught off guard, beholding.
It was a startling sight. There is the late afternoon light were two people side by side, two human merely beings. Neither one could walk, neither one could speak, not in language you could understand, both utterly dependent on the rest of us bustling around, masquerading as immortals. There they were: a plump one, apple-cheeked, a cherry tomato of a babe, smiling; and a silver-thin one, hallow-eyes, translucent, shining, smiling.
We revellers were hushed because we clearly saw that these were dancers on the very edge of things. These two were closer to the threshold, the edge of the great mystery, than any of us had been for a long time or would be for a while. Living, breathing, smiling they were, but each with one foot and who knows how much consciousness firmly planted on the other side, whatever that is, the starry darkness from whence we come and whither will we go, in time. Fresh from birth, nigh unto death, bright – eyed, they were bookends there, mirrors of each other. Radiant.
Cake in hand, and napkins, knife, glasses, a crystal carafe a century old, we paused there on the thresholds of our own momentary lives. Then, “What shall we sing?” said someone, to the silence, to the sunlight on the covers, to the stars. It was the only question, then, as now, years later. What on earth shall we sing?"
Hymn 204 (purple): ‘When I Am Frightened’
Thanks David. And indeed we are going to sing again now, it’s time for our next hymn, number 204 in our purple book, ‘When I Am Frightened’. We’ve not sung this one in a long time so I’ll ask Andrew to play it all the way through before we sing. Hymn number 204.
When I am frightened, will you reassure me?
When I am uncertain, will you hold my hand?
Will you be strong for me? sing to me quietly?
Will you share some of your stories with me?
If you will show me compassion,
then I may learn to care as you do,
then I may learn to care.
When I am angry, will you embrace me?
When I am thoughtless, will you understand?
Will you believe in me, stand by me willingly?
Will you share some of your questions with me?
If you will show me acceptance,
then I may learn to give as you do,
then I may learn to give.
When I am troubled will you listen to me?
When I am lonely, will you be my friend?
Will you be there for me, comfort me tenderly?
Will you share some of your feelings with me?
If you will show me commitment,
then I may learn to love as you do,
then I may learn to love.
Reading: ‘Being with Dying’ by Joan Halifax (adapted) (Jane to read)
In many spiritual teachings, the great divide between life and death collapses into an integrated energy that cannot be fragmented. In this view, to deny death is to deny life. We normally make a false dichotomy between living and dying, when in reality there is no separation between them, only interpenetration and unity. Old age, sickness, and death do not have to be equated with suffering; we can live and practice in such a way that death is a natural rite of passage, a completion of our life, and even the ultimate in liberation.
The beautiful, difficult work of offering spiritual care to dying people has arisen in response to the fear-bound Western version of “the good death” – a death that is too often life-denying, antiseptic, institutionalised. After four decades of sitting with dying people and their caregivers, I believe that studying the process of how to die well benefits even those of us who may have many years of life ahead. Of course, people who are sick or suffering, dying of old age or catastrophic illness, may be more receptive to exploring the great matter of dying than those who are young and healthy, or who still believe in their own indestructibility. Yet the sooner we can embrace death, the more time we have to live completely, and to live in reality.
I remember an incident that happened on a meditation retreat; what happened one day illustrates with fierce clarity the fragility of these human bodies we inhabit and the gravity “the great matter of life and death.” This particular retreat took place sometime in the seventies at the Cold Mountain Institute on Cortez Island in Canada. It was the first morning of the programme, and we had just finished the first period of silent sitting meditation. The bell rang softly to announce the end of the period, and we all stretched our legs and stood up to do walking practice – but one man remained seated.
I remember feeling concern as I turned to look at him: why was he not getting up? He was still sitting in full lotus position, his legs perfectly folded, and his feet resting on his thighs. Then, as I watched in shock, his body tilted over to one side, slumped and sagging, and he fell to the floor. He died on the spot. There were several doctors and nurses participating in the retreat who helped perform CPR, but it was too late. Later we learned that his aorta had burst while we were all sitting. This man was healthy enough – perhaps in his late thirties. He almost certainly had not imagined when he came to this retreat that he would die during it. And yet, that day, sixty people sat down to meditate – and only fifty-nine stood up.
It’s an unnerving story to most of us, who move through our lives feeling and acting as though we are immortal. We glibly reel off truisms about death being a part of life, a natural phase of the cycle of existence – and yet this is not the place from which most of us really function. Denial of death runs rampant through our culture, leaving us woefully unprepared when it is our time to die, or our time to help others die. We often aren’t available for those who need us, paralysed as we are by anxiety and resistance – nor are we available for ourselves.
I sometimes say that our monastery in Santa Fe should have a slogan hanging over the gate: “Show Up”. That’s all we have to do. We bring ourselves and all of our thoughts and feelings to the practice of being with whatever is, whether we are tired, angry, fearful, grieving, or just plain resistant and unwilling. Our attitude of openness is essential as a basis for working with dying, death, caring, and grieving. The only way to develop openness to situations as they are is by practicing the partners of presence and acceptance. However unbearable any discomfort seems, ultimately everything we experience is temporary. So please make the wonderful effort to show up for your life, every moment, this moment – because it is perfect, just as it is.
Meditation: ‘Threshold’ by Maggie Smith (Brian to read poem)
We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into a time of silence, I’m going to invite Brian to share a short poem for us – it’s somewhat tangential to our theme – but it feels just right for taking us into an expansive state of meditation. Then we’ll hold three minutes of silence which will end with the sound of a bell. We’ll hear some music for continued reflection. Let’s do what we need to do to get comfortable – maybe adjust your position – put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – as we always say, the words are an offering, use this time to meditate in your own way.
‘Threshold’ by Maggie Smith
You want a door you can be
on both sides of at once.
You want to be
on both sides of here
and there, now and then,
together and—(what
did we call the life
we would wish back?
The old life? The before?)
alone. But any open
space may be
a threshold, an arch
of entering and leaving.
Crossing a field, wading
through nothing
but timothy grass,
imagine yourself passing from
and into. Passing through
doorway after
doorway after doorway.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Rest Easy by Marylin Power Scott (performed by The Heart of London Threshold Singers)
Easy rest Easy / Let all your troubles drift away / Easy rest Easy / Love enfolds you and holds you safe
Reflections: ‘Introducing the Heart of London Threshold Singers’ by Natacha Ledwidge, Sonya Leite and Alison Trower
Hello, my name is Natacha Ledwidge, I’m director / founder of this beautiful choir ‘The Heart of London Threshold Singers.’
Since I was a youngster, I have sensed the immense, transformative power of music and song, and so when I first heard about Threshold Choirs, people singing specifically for helping and soothing for those in great need, I joined up immediately.
The seed for the Threshold Choir was planted in June of 1990 when Kate Munger, the founder of the movement, sang for her friend Larry who was dying of HIV/AIDS. She says: ‘I did housework all morning and was terrified when the time came to sit by his bedside. I did what I always did when I was afraid; sang the song that gave me courage. I sang for 2 ½ hours. It comforted me and most importantly it comforted him profoundly.’ This experience led to Kate setting up the first dedicated Threshold choir, in California… and now there are about 200 in the US and worldwide.
Our choir is now ten years old. We sing when invited at bedside in hospices, hospital wards, private homes, also remembrance services… and also at other more joyful Thresholds such as weddings and baby blessings. We are all volunteers and sing for free, (though occasional donations toward choir costs are welcome!)
When we are invited to a bedside, we go in groups of 2 to 4 singers. If appropriate we ask the families and carers to join us in song or to simply listen and have time to be fully present with their loved one... usually singing for 15 to 20 minutes… and choose songs to respond to the client’s musical taste, spiritual leanings, feeling into the moment what song may be most needed. Our repertoire is around 50 songs now! We invite people to relax deeply and even fall asleep if they wish, and if they do, this feels like we are doing our job really well!!
Most of the songs we offer are composed by Choir members written to communicate peace, comfort, love and presence… Both for the dying and for anyone going through a crisis or difficult time. I have often found myself singing or humming a song to myself in difficult situations… it’s so soothing.
When we all meet to practice (nearby in Bayswater) we sometimes talk about death and dying. We love to light a candle and put the names of people we know who need healing into our circle to sing to them… sometimes we might include all those about to die worldwide and their loved ones… also those who have just died and are over the threshold. Importantly we Singers also take it in turns to lie down and allow ourselves to experience being sung to… this can be a profound experience, beautiful and sometimes tears can flow.
We offer our singing as gentle blessings, not as a performance… We also just love to sing together… singing these songs with loving kindness, for others and the truth is we receive just as much as we give out! I finish with a quote from one of our Singers — “Singing with the Threshold Choir has changed my life. I am no longer fearful of death, talking about it or of being with those who are dying.” Thank you.
Reflection from Sonya: I joined the Threshold Choir to do Bedside singing in Hospices in 2014. It spoke to my interest in honouring death and dying as a natural part of life. Just as music and lullabies sooth babies, it made sense that this care and attention would be beneficial to all, at any age. Being sung to compassionately calms the spirit and connects us to that feeling that we are not alone and we are being cared for. Compassionate singing can uplift us and comfort us at any stage of our lives… death, chronic illness, distress, does not have to be an isolated solitary frightening experience. At hospice, the patients and their loved ones have been so grateful to receive our singing, as it brings beauty and harmony to their day. Some join in with us and others relax more deeply. We have had positive feedback from Nurses, Doctors, cleaners and builders who have heard our voices wafting in the hallways. Often they say: " I wish you could be here every day.“
Reflection from Alison: I found singing both at bedside and in the corridors of the Marie Curie Hospice with our choir members a gesture and an experience of community, connection and sharing. There came a wealth of shared humanity and a sense of all of our vulnerabilities and strengths. The singing always felt like a kind of exchange or conversation with what it is to be human and what it is to come to the close of a human life, and the need to come together at these times. To me it is essential to accompany one another across the threshold.
Natasha’s introduction to next song: As a little taster of being sung to now everyone present is Invited to relax fully, close yr eyes if you wish, settle in your chair, maybe lie down… and ‘receive’ this song, we are singing for each of you in the room now.
Interlude: Sweet Sweet Dreams by Lauren Lane Powell (performed by The Heart of London Threshold Singers): Sweet sweet dreams / Sweet sweet dreams / Just on the other side of night / Dream of precious peace (followed by 15-20 seconds of silence - ends with a bell)
Responsive Reading: ‘Living and Dying’ by Jane Blackall
Thanks so much for that beautiful music and your thoughtful reflections. We’ll hear from you one last time at the end of the service and I believe we’ll all be invited to join in with the final song.
I want to invite you all now, if you wish, to join in with the responsive reading that’s in your order of service if you’re in the building, and the words will be up on screen if you’re joining at home. Hopefully this will draw together some of the threads of our reflections this morning. (pause)
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, help us to face our human predicament,
and come to terms with the knowledge that our lives will end someday.
To deny death is to deny life; may we live honestly, courageously,
and wholeheartedly, knowing that death will be our life’s completion.
Grant us awareness that our time is limited, though its span is not yet known, that
we may make the most of each moment and relish life’s journey to the very end.
We do not know for certain what lies beyond the threshold of life and death;
may we come to accept this mystery, and appreciate the here and now.
Encourage us to prepare ourselves – practically, emotionally, and spiritually –
that we might be more ready to meet death, whenever it comes for us.
This is the time for us to put things right and deal with unfinished business;
may we make the most of the time we have left, living wisely and well.
Awaken in us a love of righteousness; call our hearts to truth and beauty.
Remind us of what matters most, so that we do not fritter our time away.
Each day is a fresh chance to love and be loved; may we reach out to others,
building loving connections, bringing compassion and kindness wherever we go.
Help us to be good companions to others as they move towards the end of life,
offering our presence and attention, and showing up for each other as best we can.
It is said that ‘it takes a village to raise a child’; may we also be the ‘village’ that
surrounds each soul on their dying journey, and cares for their caregivers too.
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, bless us in our living and in our dying.
Grant us the courage and clear vision we need to embrace reality.
This is our human condition; these are the days we are given;
may we use them in the service of love, justice, and peace. Amen.
Hymn 83 (purple): ‘Just as Long as I Have Breath’
Let’s sing together once again. Our final hymn today is number 83 in your purple books, ‘Just as Long as I Have Breath (I must answer “yes” to life)’. We don’t sing it that often so Andrew will play it through. It’s a beautiful sentiment so let’s sing out as best we can. Hymn number 83.
Just as long as I have breath,
I must answer, "Yes," to life;
though with pain I made my way,
still with hope I meet each day.
If they ask what I did well,
tell them I said, "Yes," to life.
Just as long as vision lasts,
I must answer, "Yes," to truth;
in my dream and in my dark,
always that elusive spark.
If they ask what I did well,
tell them I said, "Yes," to truth.
Just as long as my heart beats,
I must answer, "Yes," to love;
disappointment pierced me through,
still I kept on loving you.
If they ask what I did best,
tell them I said, "Yes," to love.
Announcements:
Huge thanks to Natacha and the Heart of London Threshold Choir for joining us today. Thanks to Jeannene for tech-hosting. Thanks to Charlotte for co-hosting. If you’re joining on Zoom please do hang on after the service for a chat. And if you’re a regular online attender I would like to ask you to consider helping us out with co-hosting some time as we’re short of co-hosts around Christmas and New Year. Do have a chat with Charlotte or with me to find out how you can help. Thanks to David and Brian for reading. Thanks to Andrew for accompanying our hymns and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Patricia for greeting and Liz for making coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – do stay for a cuppa and some cake (it’s coffee and walnut) – served in the hall next door.
After today’s service at 12.30pm Heidi and John will be holding a book launch – their new collection of art and poetry, ‘Affinities’ – there will be readings and refreshments and all are welcome.
Our next ‘Better World Book Club’ is tonight on ‘When the Dust Settles’ by Lucy Easthope – bit too late to read that one now – if you want to join us next month on the 29th December we’ll be discussing ‘Golden: The Power of Silence in a World of Noise’ by Justin Zorn and Leigh Marz.
All being well we’ll have Community Singing here on Wednesday night – as ever there’s a bit of uncertainty around this – make sure you’re on my list and I’ll let you know of last-minute changes.
On Friday at 7pm we’ve got our regular ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – it is a great way to get to know others on a deeper level – this week’s theme is ‘Creativity’. Sign up with me if you want to get the Zoom link for that or if you just want to know more about it.
Also looking ahead to December – if you want to get the dates in your diary we’re having our main carol service and lunch on 15th, then a festive tea dance on the 22nd – and we’ll have our usual candlelit Christmas Eve as well of course. Carolyn has also mentioned to me that she’s interested in organising a group to go out for dinner after the service on Christmas Eve so if this is something you might want to join in with please do get in touch with her ASAP to make a plan.
We’re going to have our usual New Year’s Mini-Retreat to look back and forward – the in-person version will be on Sunday 29th December if I get enough sign-ups so please do drop me an email ASAP if you’re planning to come along to that – and the online version will be on New Year’s Day.
Next week Sarah Tinker will be here leading our service titled ‘Comfort and Discomfort: There’s a Place for Both’.
Details of all our various activities are printed on the back of the order of service, for you to take away, and also in the Friday email. Or why not take home a copy of our new fancy newsletter?
The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections.
I think that’s everything. Just time for our closing words and closing music now.
Benediction: based on words by Cliff Reed
Our time of worship draws to a close.
May what we have found here
of truth and beauty, insight and challenge,
love and comfort, remain with us as we go our separate ways.
And may the blessing of this time together
light our way through the week ahead,
calling from us the strength and courage
we need, to meet the days to come. Amen.
Closing Music: Walking each other Home - words by Ram Dass, arranged by Kate Munger (performed by the Heart of London Threshold Choir)
‘We are all just walking each other home’ x 4
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
24th November 2024