Sunday Service, 20 October 2024
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Schumann - Glückes genug from Kinderszenen Op. 15 (performed by George Ireland)
Opening Words: ‘Put Away the Pressures of the World’ by Erika A. Hewitt (adapted)
As we enter into this time of worship,
let us put away the pressures of the world
that ask us to perform, to put on a brave face,
to pretend we’re on top of things and we’re holding it together,
to make out we’re someone other than who we truly are.
Silence those voices that ask you to be perfect.
This is a space of compassion and hospitality.
You do not have to do anything special to earn
the love and care contained within this community.
You do not have to be braver, smarter, stronger, better
than you are in this moment to belong here, with us.
You only have to bring the gift of your body, no matter how able;
your seeking mind, no matter how restless and busy;
your tender heart, no matter how broken.
Bring your whole self – all that you are, and all that you love –
to this hour , as we remind each other of what really matters,
what is most worthy, in this one life that we share.
You are so very welcome. Let us worship together.
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These opening words by Erika A. Hewitt 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’s service is (tangentially) inspired by a sermon I heard in this very church about 25 years ago! The minister at that time was Rev. Art Lester, he’s still ministering to our Croydon congregation, and I’m going to borrow the title of one of his services – ‘Just a Person’ – for our explorations today. I got in touch with him this week and he dug out a copy of that old sermon for me, so I’ll share a bit of it with you later on in the service, the bit which has stuck in my mind all these years. And we’ll be reflecting on what it might mean to be ‘Just a Person’ – no more, no less – having that sense of humility – and truly knowing ourselves to be no more or less worthy than anybody else.
Chalice Lighting: ‘The Light in Each Other’ by Jill McAllister
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)
The light of life shines through the eyes of each and every person.
The light of truth shines through each life.
May the light of this chalice remind us
that our search for truth and light is ongoing,
and is enhanced and nurtured by every person we meet.
May we honour the light in each other.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘When We Gather Here to Worship’
Let’s sing together. Our first hymn is on your hymn sheet, if you’re in the building, and for those joining via zoom the words will be up on screen (as they will for all our hymns). The words are written by my friend and colleague Stephanie Bisby: ‘When We Gather Here to Worship’. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s sing up as best we can.
When we gather here to worship,
Though we may be two or three,
In the name of what is holy,
We are touched by mystery.
When we sit in gentle silence
Reaching deep within our hearts,
We find hidden threads within us,
To bind up our broken parts.
When we speak our pain and sorrow
And confess where we fall short,
We find solace in the sharing,
Wisdom gained and lessons taught.
When we listen to the music,
Whether instrument or song,
We are touched by deep emotion
And our spirits sing along.
We find cause for celebration,
Ev’n amid the cold world’s strife,
When we sing our joyful praises,
For the glory that is life.
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 Lyn Cox
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on words by Lyn Cox. 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)
We come together this morning, and every Sunday morning,
as we each continue on our unique path through this life,
joining to remember and reaffirm our commitment
to our highest values and the common good.
Grant us the courage to continue on the journey,
the courage to act and speak for the well-being
of others, and ourselves, and the planet we share.
May we forgive ourselves and each other
when our courage and care falls short,
and may we resolve to try again, in love.
Grant us hearts to love boldly,
to embody our faith and our values
each day in living words and deeds.
May our hearts open to embrace
humility, grace, and reconciliation.
Grant us the ability to learn and grow,
to let the Spirit of Love and Truth work
its transformation upon us and within us.
Grant us the spirit of radical hospitality,
the willingness to sustain a dwelling place
for the holy that resides in all being.
Grant us a sense of being at peace in the world,
even as we are in perpetual motion,
tossed and turned by life’s tempests.
Let us cultivate – together – the strength
to welcome every kind of gift life brings our way
and all manner of ways to be on the journey together. (pause)
Let us bring to mind those we know to be struggling this day – perhaps including ourselves –
those friends and family we hold dearest – our neighbours in community –
others around the globe we may only have heard about on the news.
And let us take time to send prayers of loving kindness to all who suffer. (pause)
Let us look back over the last week, taking time to notice what was good, to count our blessings –
all the ways in which others helped or encouraged us, inspired or delighted us –
all the goodness and beauty we have known even in the mist of struggle.
And let us take time to give prayers of thanks for all we have been given. (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
Hymn 36 (purple): ‘For Everyone Born’
Our next hymn is number 36 in the purple book ‘For Everyone Born a Place at the Table’. I think I’ll ask George to play it through once before we sing. Hymn number 36.
For everyone born, a place at the table,
for everyone born, clean water and bread,
a shelter, a space, a safe place for growing,
for everyone born, a star overhead.
And God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
For woman and man, a place at the table,
revising the role, deciding the share,
with wisdom and grace, dividing the power,
for woman and man, a system that’s fair.
And God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
For young and for old, a place at the table,
a voice to be heard, a part in the song,
the hands of a child in hands kind and wrinkled
for young and for old, the right to belong
And God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
For just and unjust a place at the table,
abuser, abused, how hard to forgive,
in anger, in hurt, a mindset of mercy,
for just and unjust, a new way to live.
And God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
For everyone born, a place at the table,
to live without fear, and simply to be,
to work, to speak out, to witness and worship,
for everyone born, the right to be free.
And God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
Reading: ‘Ke Motho Fela’ by Art Lester (excerpt, adapted) (Jane to Introduce / John to read)
Introduction from Jane: I wanted to add a few words of introduction to our first reading, before John comes up to read it. As I mentioned at the start of the service, this is an excerpt from a sermon by Art Lester, who was minister this church when I first came here back in 1999. He was, and still is, a great preacher and writer, and I don’t know if I would have stuck around in those early days if the services hadn’t caught my imagination in the way that they did. But, even so, anyone who leads services with any regularity knows one thing only too well: most people don’t remember very much of what you said (and they often haven’t heard what you thought you were saying in the first place). Art published a few of his ‘greatest hits’ back then – both on the very early incarnation of our website and later in a book titled ‘Seeing With Your Ears’ – so I had a chance to read the sermons a few times over, and let them sink in more deeply, so more of what he had to say has stuck with me. But this one never appeared in print. So all I could remember was the phrase ‘Ke Motho Fela’, which according to Art means ‘Just a Person’, and according to Google means ‘I’m only human’. Nevertheless, this phrase has often come to mind over the years, and though I don’t think this was exactly the point of Art’s sermon, it speaks to me about the true meaning of humility. Over to you, John.
I think it must have been on one of those daytime television shows. The host was asking some seven or eight-year-old children what they wanted to be when they grew up. There were some predictable responses: fire fighter, doctor, ballet dancer, etc. Then there was one little girl, one of those preternaturally serious creatures who appeared to think over the question very carefully, before furrowing her brow and saying, “Just a person.” When she grew up, that’s what she wanted to be: a person. You know what? I think she probably made it…
When I first went to Botswana in 1982, I struggled with learning Setswana. I didn’t ever get very fluent in it, but I could just about get around. I found the major thing to be a matter of learning those phrases which were most used as people massaged the complexity of the day—for even in a rural village with little other than mud huts and goats, life is complex.
A phrase I often heard in all sorts of contexts was: “Ke motho fela.” I understood the words, but I confess not the significance of them. If you asked someone for a loan to buy mealy meal, they would say, “Ke motho fela.” If you asked which church they went to, “Ke motho fela.” If you needed some advice, even from the chief, they would say: “Ke motho fela.” It means, simply, “I’m just a person.”
Being just a person meant that you were not unusual in any important way. You weren’t rich, and so you wore old clothes to tribal courts, even if, like Madame Kabileng, you had a new Mazda pickup truck stashed away behind your rondavel. Being just a person meant that you weren’t arrogant about your beliefs or your opinions, and that—at least—you paid lip service to the notion that everyone is equal. I won’t try to claim that this was really true—many people held private high opinions of themselves. And I won’t necessarily agree that a kind of mutually enforced humility is the best way to live your life. But I did find it restful to be among people who at least valued the existence of ordinary personhood.
Somehow calling it “just a person” misidentifies just how important the task of personhood really is. We seem to be faced here with yet another paradox: how can it be that something which everybody has the ability to be can be a high calling? And yet it is just that: a high calling. Think now, just for a moment. Look back at the lives you have lived and remember someone who had a special gift of personhood. They might not have been successful in worldly terms, may not have had letters after their names or titles in front of it, may have been poor or plain or even stupid in academic terms. But they will have had—and more importantly—revealed to you something of this gift. Can you remember someone like that? If you can, give them a moment’s thanks and admiration. It could be that they have left us something of profound importance, without which we would be much the poorer. And if there has never been anyone like that in your life… it’s time to start looking again.
Meditation: ‘To Be a Person’ by Jane Hirshfield
Thanks John. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into a time of silence, I’m going to share a short poem, titled ‘To Be a Person’, by Jane Hirshfield (on hymnsheet/website). Then we’ll hold three minutes of silence which will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear some music for our 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.
‘To Be a Person’ by Jane Hirshfield
To be a person is an untenable proposition.
Odd of proportion,
upright,
unbalanced of body, feeling, and mind.
Two predator’s eyes
face forward,
yet seem always to be trying to look back.
Unhooved, untaloned fingers
seem to grasp mostly grief and pain.
To create, too often, mostly grief and pain.
Some take,
in witnessed suffering, pleasure.
Some make, of witnessed suffering, beauty.
On the other side —
a creature capable of blushing,
who chooses to spin until dizzy,
likes what is shiny,
demands to stay awake even when sleepy.
Learns what is basic, what acid,
what are stomata, nuclei, jokes,
which birds are flightless.
Learns to play four-handed piano.
To play, when it is needed, one-handed piano.
Hums. Feeds strays.
Says, “All together now, on three.”
To be a person may be possible then, after all.
Or the question may be considered still at least open —
an unused drawer, a pair of waiting workboots.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Beethoven - Andante molto cantabile ed espressivo (Theme) from Sonata Op. 109 (performed by George Ireland)
Reading: ‘How Humility Will Make You the Greatest Person Ever’ by Vicki Zakrzewski (excerpts, adapted) (Hannah to read)
I think it’s safe to say that, as a society, we could use a little more humility. Our culture places so much value on external accomplishments, appearance, and self-aggrandizement—all things that are ephemeral at best—that even a small display of this quiet virtue can make one feel like a drowning man coming up for air.
When I meet someone who radiates humility, my shoulders relax, my heart beats a little more quietly, and something inside me lets go. Why? Because I know that I’m being fully seen, heard, and accepted for who I am, warts and all—a precious and rare gift that allows our protective walls to come down. Truly humble people are able to offer this kind of gift to us because they see and accept their own strengths and limitations without defensiveness or judgment.
This kind of self-acceptance emerges from grounding one’s worth in our intrinsic value as human beings rather than things such as six-figure salaries or the body of a movie star or climbing the corporate ladder. Instead, humble people place high value on more meaningful things that benefit others, such as noble qualities. They also see life as a school, recognizing that while none of us is perfect, we can, without negatively impacting our self-esteem, work on our limitations by being open to new ideas, advice, and criticism.
One of the great rewards of humility is an inner freedom from having to protect those parts that we try to hide from ourselves and others. In other words, we develop a quiet, understanding, and compassionate heart.
For many, when we fail at something that is important to us—a job or a relationship—our self-esteem plummets because we tied our self-worth to those things. All of a sudden, we become bad or unworthy people, and it can be a long road to recovery. Not so for people with humility. Their ability to withstand failure or criticism comes from their sense of intrinsic value of being human. So when they fail at a task, or don’t live up to expectations, it doesn’t mean that there is something wrong with them. It just means that they are human like the rest of us.
Humble people have an accurate picture of themselves—both their faults and their gifts—which helps them to see what might need changing within. The more we become aware of our inner lives, the easier it is to see where unhealthy beliefs and actions might be limiting us. Noticing and then accepting those parts of ourselves that are wreaking havoc, and that require us to change, calls for self-compassion, or treating oneself with kindness and understanding. Once we accept what needs changing, then we can start the process of transformation. I love the saying by a wise sage, “If you are in a dark room, don’t beat the darkness with a stick. Rather, turn on the light.” In other words, just gently and patiently replace a negative thought or action with a positive one and over time, we may not even recognize the person we once were.
Perhaps the key to humility is seeing life as a journey towards cultivating those qualities that bring out the best in ourselves and others. And in doing so we just might help to make this world a better place.
Reflection: ‘Just a Person’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Thanks Hannah. As I mentioned earlier in the service, the words of my first minister, Art Lester, stuck with me for many years. ‘Just a Person’. This phrase has come to be a shorthand in my mind for a whole cluster of ideas about that much-misunderstood virtue that we’re exploring today: humility.
Too often, I think, we tend to think of humility in quite a miserable light. If someone were to suggest that we need to show humility it might be taken as saying that we should think less of ourselves, we shouldn’t get ideas above our station, we should get back in our box. We might feel chastised by it. Imagery around humility often shows humble people literally grovelling or making themselves small.
The theologian Ronald Rolheiser describes this common-yet-mistaken view of humility well, I think. He writes: ‘Humility should never be confused, as it often is, with a wounded self-image, with an excessive reticence, with timidity and fear, or with an overly sensitive self-awareness. Too common is the notion that a humble person is one who is self-effacing to a fault, who deflects praise (even when it’s deserved), who is too shy to trust opening himself or herself in intimacy, or who is so fearful or self-conscious and worried about being shamed so as to never step forward and offer his or her gifts to the community. These can make for a gentle and self-effacing person, but because we are denigrating ourselves when we deny our own giftedness, such humility is false, and deep-down we know it, and so this often makes for someone who nurses some not-so-hidden angers and is prone to being passive aggressive.’
Words from Ronald Rolheiser – a helpful take on what humility is not. But if that’s not it – what is? The most succinct take on the matter I’ve found comes from Wayne Teasdale – an interesting character, a monk who combined Christian, Hindu, and Buddhist spirituality – Wayne Teasdale simply wrote: ‘Humility is, most fundamentally, a relationship of truth with ourselves.’ And Ronald Rolheiser also made something of the etymological connection between humility and humus – the earth, the soil, the ground – when he said ‘the most humble person you know is the person who’s the most grounded, that is, the person who knows they’re not the centre of the earth but also knows that they aren’t a second-rate piece of dirt either.’ Another take on it is in the words on your order of service (which are also on the website) from Janis Abrahms Spring: ‘Humility is the disposition to view oneself as basically equal with any other human being even if there are objective differences in physical appearance, wealth, social skills, intelligence, or other resources… It is the ability to keep one's talents and accomplishments in perspective, to have a sense of self-acceptance, an understanding of one's imperfections, and to be free from arrogance and low self-esteem.’
Perhaps the virtue of humility is one of course-correction – finding a middle way – if we’re in danger of becoming either excessively egotistic and self-important OR excessively self-deprecating and lacking in confidence – the virtue of humility might call us back to this ‘relationship of truth with ourselves’ that Wayne Teasdale describes. It reminds us that we are no more special – but crucially no less special – than anybody else with whom we share this planet. It is a corrective to an overly inflated or an overly depressed view of ourselves and our worth. We’re just a person. But at the same time – what a thing it is to be a person! – as Art Lester said, it’s a high calling.
I don’t know if any of you saw the Wim Wenders film, ‘Perfect Days’, which came out this year? Absolutely wonderful film. The central character lives a simple life, he works cleaning public toilets in Tokyo, and he is such an extraordinary portrait of humility. He sees all things, all people, as equally important, and he goes about his work with diligence and care, as if it really matters, without really engaging in worldly status games. I can’t do the film justice – I hope you find a way to see it if you haven’t already – but it came to mind when I read this piece by a UU minister, Barbara F. Meyers, written in 2007 (I’m going to share an extended extract as I was taken with a number of resonances):
‘When I first began attending a Unitarian Universalist church… I eagerly soaked in everything new that I was learning. One Sunday I remember distinctly was a lay-led service by a dearly beloved elderly couple who had been members for a long time. They had just been on a pilgrimage to Japan, where they visited representatives of a number of progressive Japanese religions, and their service was a report of their adventures. The religion they spoke of that I particularly remember was a religion named Ittoen founded in 1904. Members of this religion seek to live a life having no possessions and in humble service to others… their chief religious ritual practice is called Rokuman Gyogan, and consists of humbling oneself by cleaning toilets. They believe this humble act purifies them for the future of the world without conflict.’
Meyers continues: ‘There was something so striking about this story that I remember it clearly nearly 20 years later. (We should have all of our sermons remembered for 20 years!) I think it was the idea that doing one of the lowest most humble tasks in life, cleaning toilets, could be a religious act, and that this could prepare us for world peace. At first I thought "You've got to be kidding!" Surely, cleaning toilets couldn't be a central religious ritual for a modern religion! This idea was vastly different from any religious thinking that I had been exposed to. But they weren't kidding. Doing a lowly task can be part of a religious practice - allowing one to demonstrate humility. I think this was this "radical" idea that struck me so clearly when I first heard it. A person who has humility, a humble person, is generally regarded as unpretentious and modest, someone quiet, self-effacing, understated, someone who doesn't think or act like he or she is better or more important than others…. A humble person's self-esteem is an accurate, not over-estimated, not-underestimated view of his or her abilities and worthiness. One can stand one's ground when challenged, cope with failures, and not be overly proud of one's successes.’ Words on humility by Barbara F. Meyers.
So what does humility require of us? What would it look like if we were to live with humility? If we really believe we are ‘just a person’ (and so is everyone else) then how might that show up in our behaviours and our interactions with those around us as we go about our daily lives?
Rev. Clay Nelson, who was Unitarian minister in Auckland New Zealand, made the observation that ‘humility understands that the delights, pains and needs of others are as important as our own.’ One insight I take from his words is that we need to cultivate awareness of our impact on other people, and their impact on us too of course, and weigh up our competing needs and preferences. There’s a balance to be struck – it’s not OK to insist on getting our own way regardless of the cost to others – but nor is it OK to be a doormat who always gives way to more forceful personalities (or to people who supposedly have a higher social status). I almost want to call it pathological selflessness.
If we truly believe that our time, energy, and contributions are worth just as much as other people’s – no more, no less – then surely we should honour our agreements with others (as far as humanly possible). This is perhaps a subset of a larger category – that we should honour the social contract – not consider ourselves to be too big (or too small) for the rules of social engagement to apply to us, not go looking for reasons why we’re an special exception, why we don’t need to hold up our end of the deal. A classic example of this is timekeeping – I’m sure you’ve heard various stories, as I have, of big-shot superstars who turn up late to their own gigs, so that fans who have paid a fortune for tickets are faced with dilemmas – missing the last bus home, facing babysitting dilemmas, or even finding that (when the star eventually shows up) the long-awaited gig ends up being 15 minutes long as the venue pulls the plug (because of a local authority noise curfew that everybody knew about ahead of time). I suppose the assumption is that the superstar sees themselves as more important than the little people and doesn’t care about their impact on others. But I bet most of us can think of situations in our own lives where we’ve been messed around, let down or left hanging – when people have reneged on commitments, inconvenienced us in ways large or small, apparently for no good reason – or, if we’re honest, times when we’ve let others down in turn. Humility requires us to keep an eye on this – to be self-reflective and to take feedback from trusted others – to keep learning, growing, doing better – but not getting so mired in critique and self-doubt that we are unable to act or make a mark in the world.
And I think that’s an important thing to note, in closing: Humility does not mean dismissing your own value, your own capabilities, your own potential. Remember what Wayne Teasdale said: ‘Humility is, most fundamentally, a relationship of truth with ourselves.’ That includes an honest self-assessment of your gifts as well as your limitations. And some of us may really need to hear that reminder again and again. The reminder that we matter as much as anyone. Don’t think ‘ah well, nobody will notice’ if you don’t turn up to a gathering, or you don’t step up to contribute to a project, or you don’t speak up when you have something to say. Please don’t sit on the sidelines of life; don’t dismiss the value of whatever contribution, large or small, that is uniquely yours to make. One way or another, we all have a part to play in sustaining our community, and in making the world a better place.
I want to close with a short prayer for humility. These words are adapted from Alex Jensen.
Spirit of Life, God of All Love,
we find you in those humble places.
The quiet, still spaces where we find
we are held in a love greater than ourselves.
You are the wind in each breath;
The fire in each soul; The subtle
Heartbeat of creation all around us.
Your love is unimposing yet firm and steadfast,
Present to all those who would know your peace.
You challenge us in moments of arrogance and
Move us to listen deeply when we fail—
As we always do—to see the fuller picture.
You find the gentle words to speak life into us and hold us close
when all else around us and within us feels broken.
You remind me that we are loved and saved just as we are.
Remind us of who we truly are. And help us to see you –
grant us the wisdom to listen for you – in those unlikely places –
in the small, humble, everyday moments where you are to be found. Amen.
Hymn 200 (purple): ‘What Does the Lord Require?’
Time for our last hymn now, it’s number 200, ‘What Does the Lord Require?’
What does the Lord require
for praise and offering?
What sacrifice desire,
or tribute bid us bring?
But only this: true justice do,
love mercy too, and walk with God.
True justice always means
defending of the poor,
the righting of the wrong,
reforming ancient law.
This is the path, true justice do,
love mercy too, and walk with God.
Love mercy and be kind,
befriend, forgive, always,
and welcome all who come
to sing with us in praise:
and in this way, true justice do,
love mercy too, and walk with God.
Yes, humbly walk that way,
free from all pompous pride,
in quiet simplicity,
God always at our side:
thus evermore, true justice do,
love mercy too, and walk with God.
Announcements
Thanks to Ramona 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. Thanks to John and Hannah for reading. Thanks to George for lovely music and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Patricia for greeting and David for making coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – please do stay for a cuppa and some plum, hazelnut and chocolate cake – a new recipe! – that’ll be served in the hall next door.
We’ve got various other activities coming up – at 12.30 today you can stay and sing with Margaret – Margaret is a very experienced singing teacher and her classes help us all make a better sound.
Tonight and Friday we’ve got our regular ‘Heart and Soul’ online gathering – it is a great way to get to know others on a deeper level – this week’s theme is ‘Embracing Weirdness’! Sign up with me if you want to get the link for that.
Our Community Singing group continues on Wednesday and that’s a lot of fun. Please let me know if you’re planning to come along or if it’s something you might come along to in future – we have a great teacher but as I’ve said before sessions sometimes get cancelled at the last minute.
The next meeting of the ‘Better World Book Club’ will be on ‘Africa is Not a Country’ by Dipo Faloyin. You’ve probably still just about got time to read it before next week! Let me know if you want to join that session at 7.30pm on Sunday 27th October.
Please save the date for the next visit of Many Voices singing for LGBT and allies on 3rd November when they’ve got a special singing leader, Val Regan, coming to lead the session. And this may be the last MV session for a while so it’d be great to have a good turnout.
Also looking ahead to December – yes already – 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. Just in case you’re already making plans.
Next week’s service is titled ‘Meet the Mystics: Zilpha Elaw’. I might leave that mysterious!
And I also wanted to say – we’ve got a new website! – I’ve been working on this for a while and I’m really pleased to have launched it at last – so do have a look at it if you haven’t already.
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. Please do sign up for the mailing list if you haven’t already. 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 Ant Howe
Our meeting draws to a close –
But the love and friendship remain:
The joy of having met together,
The connections we have made and renewed,
And the spiritual nourishment we have received will stay with us,
And will continue to bless us, this day and in the days to come. Amen.
Closing Music: Mascagni - Intermezzo from Cavelleria Rusticana (performed by George Ireland)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
20th October 2024