Sunday Service, 17 November 2024
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Variations on As the Deer – Gigi Lam / Frank Bridge (performed by Gigi Lam)
Opening Words: ‘This Place is Sanctuary’ by Kathleen McTigue (adapted)
You who are broken-hearted,
who woke today with the winds of despair
whistling through your mind, come in.
You who are brave but wounded,
limping through life and hurting with every step, come in.
You who are fearful, who live with shadows
hovering over your shoulders, come in.
This place is sanctuary, and it is for you.
You who are filled with happiness,
whose abundance overflows, come in.
You who walk through your world with lightness and grace,
who awoke this morning with strength and hope,
you who have everything to give, come in.
This place is your calling, drawn here by the world’s need.
Here we offer in love. Here we receive in gratitude.
Here we make a sacred circle from the great gifts
of breath, attention and purpose. Come in. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These opening words by Kathleen McTigue 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 has the title ‘Light Relief’ – a theme that was chosen in part because we have a number of rather heavy themes to tackle in November – fixed dates in the calendar like All Souls and Remembrance – and it felt like time for something a little more lighthearted to shift the mood a bit. At the same time I’m conscious that a number of people in our wider community have been hit hard by the outcome of the recent US elections – understandably so – and others are ground down by witnessing seemingly intractable conflict around the globe. So first I want to acknowledge how tough it is to face the state of the world right now, pick ourselves up after repeated blows, and carry on.
Today’s service is meant to be a reminder, though, of how important it is for each of us to stay in touch with our sources of uplift and joy even when – especially when – things seem bleak. This is not about being Pollyanna-ish, denying reality, or burying our heads in the sand – it’s about remembering to reconnect with the things that make life worth living – to keep reaching out to art, beauty, nature, and each other – rather than being overwhelmed and crushed by it all. Taking time for the good stuff might allow us to regather our strength and re-engage with the sacred work of repairing the world.
The words from D.H. Lawrence on your order of service gesture towards the approach we’re going to take this morning. He wrote: ‘Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.’
Chalice Lighting: ‘Always, There is Hope’ by Nadine McSpadden (adapted)
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)
During our bleakest moments, still, there is hope.
When facing our biggest challenges, still, there is hope.
When all we can do is put one foot in front of the other, still, there is hope.
We are the hope—for ourselves and for one another. Always, there is hope.
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): ‘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 Krista Taves
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on words by Krista Taves. 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 in prayer even though some of us struggle with what that means.
We come together to stand before that which is greater than us,
although we may struggle to say what that is.
And so on this day we pray for those things we struggle with in our everyday lives.
For the conflicts we feel within ourselves and between us and those we love.
We pray for guidance, compassion, for the opening of a path.
We pray for those things that give us joy and hope each day.
For those things that we trust in, believe in, will sacrifice for.
These are gifts of grace, and perhaps we need not define them
in order to savour them, rejoice in them, be thankful for them.
What we do know is that we gather here this morning with all kinds of needs.
Some are facing health problems and are in need of healing.
Others are worn down by all the challenges of the times we’re living through
and need healing of a different kind – emotional and spiritual.
Some are facing family problems. Some are weary with the struggles
of life and seek assurance that this, too, will someday pass.
Others face the anguish of making difficult decisions
for themselves, their families and friends, and for the common good.
For each of us, we speak the deepest prayers of our hearts in different ways, knowing
that what it means for them to be answered will look and feel different for each of us.
May we, somehow, this morning be met at the point of our differences
and also in the places that we are one, of the same
breath of life that courses through all living things.
May we always hold in our hearts gratitude for those things that bless us
with their presence, forgiveness for the ways we have turned from those blessings,
and the willingness to open ourselves anew to this beautiful and hurting world. (pause)
And in a quiet moment now, let us look back over the week just gone, to take stock of it all –
the many everyday cares and concerns of our own lives – and concentric circles of concern
rippling outwards – ‘til they enfold the entire world and all those lives which touch our own.
Let’s take a while to sit quietly in prayer with that which weighs heavy on our hearts this day. (pause)
And let us also take a moment to notice all the good that has happened in the past week –
moments of uplift and delight; beauty and pleasure; all those acts of generosity and kindness.
The hopes and dreams and possibilities that are bubbling up and reminding us that we’re alive.
There’s lots to be grateful for. So let’s take a little while to sit quietly in prayer and give thanks. (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: ‘Bullies’ by Lynn Ungar (Antony to read)
Might as well admit it:
the bullies are running the school.
No teacher, no parent, no principal
is stepping in. They will take
what they can, add it to their hoard,
and toss some bright coin
of power to the henchmen
who roam the halls. I wish
I knew how to make it safe.
I wish I knew how to send us all
back to science or language or music
or [maths] or whatever it was
that we came here to do. I wish.
The bullies will not be satisfied,
because brutality does not satisfy.
They have set the terms
of a game no one can win.
It may come down to the need to hide.
But don’t hide out alone.
We are gathering in the library,
behind the science fiction stacks.
We are holed up in the art room
with our coloured pens, and we
are yelling in soundproofed
practice rooms. We have brought
our instruments to the band.
We have brought our voices to the choir.
We still have words to print
in the bulletin and the yearbook
and in the poetry chapbook
we expect no one to read.
We are plotting behind the bleachers,
and we are still determined
to put on the play. We probably
won’t catch the conscience of the king,
who is utterly without shame,
but we have come together
to learn our lines, to sing our songs,
to live the lives
the bullies cannot imagine.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘We Laugh, We Cry’
Thanks Antony. Time for our next hymn now, it’s in the middle of your yellow hymnsheet, ‘We Laugh, We Cry’. A popular hymn but also rather a long one so we’ll need some stamina! We Laugh, We Cry.
We laugh, we cry, we live, we die; we dance, we sing our song.
We need to feel there's something here to which we all belong.
We need to feel the freedom just to have some time alone.
But most of all we need close friends we can call our very own.
And we believe in life, and in the strength of love;
and we have found a need to be together.
We have our hearts to give
we have our thoughts to receive;
and we believe that sharing is an answer.
A child is born among us and we feel a special glow.
We see time's endless journey as we watch the baby grow.
We thrill to hear imagination freely running wild.
We dedicate our minds and hearts to the spirit of this child.
And we believe in life, and in the strength of love;
and we have found a time to be together.
And with the grace of age,
we share the wonder of youth,
and we believe that growing is an answer.
Our lives are full of wonder and our time is very brief.
The death of one among us fills us all with pain and grief.
But as we live, so shall we die, and when our lives are done
the memories we shared with friends, they will linger on and on.
And we believe in life, and in the strength of love;
and we have found a place to be together.
We have the right to grow, we have the gift to believe
that peace within our living is an answer.
We seek elusive answers to the questions of this life.
We seek to put an end to all the waste of human strife.
We search for truth, equality, and blessed peace of mind.
And then we come together here, to make sense of what we find.
And we believe in life, and in the strength of love;
and we have found a joy to be together.
And in our search for peace, maybe we'll finally see:
even to question truly is an answer.
Reading: ‘In the Struggle, Singing, Shining’ by Victoria Safford (Sonya to read)
I once saw a little girl dressed in a fabulous outfit. She was in preschool, and her clothes were matched only by the radiance with which she wore them – a dress tie-dyed in bright orange, hot pink, and electric yellow, with socks to match, pink suede sandals, and on her knee, as she revealed to me demurely by lifting the hem of her skirt, a Band-Aid in the brightest bright blue. “We were out of purple ones,” she explained with mild regret.
The child was shining, shining. I admired her dress and her joie de vivre, and she said, “Well, I wanted to wear my favourite outfit because we were having church today, and [in case I somehow failed to guess it] this is my favourite outfit.” She gave her dress a little flip and smoothed her bunchy bodice. She straightened her short legs so the sandals stuck straight out. She ratcheted up those fiery socks and looked me in the eye. I thanked her humbly for her example, and wholeheartedly I meant it.
Later, in the afterglow of her costume and her gladness, I thought about that girl. There are children all over this world, and some adults, scattered here and there, who unfailingly will punctuate their lives and their days with sacred celebration and with rituals signifying joy, no matter what they have – or don’t – to work with, no matter what fury the world outside is howling. They will savour life and breath and all their days no matter what is dealt them. It’s the only way some people know to live – with gladness and cacophonous colour. These are people who pray without ceasing, awake and aware, chanting (if they’re old enough), “This is the life I’d risk anything to save.”
“Gather yourselves,” say the Hopi elders. “See who is in the water with you and celebrate. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.” There are things in life that are so beautiful, so lovely, so simple – extraordinarily ordinary blessings – that the only response sometimes is thankfulness, the kind of thankfulness that clamours for loud colours on a Sunday. Choose your clothing with defiance, with attitude, with joie de vivre and with intention. Every action is a sacrament, every move a symbol, every colour is a song. This is a day we’d risk anything to save.
Meditation: ‘What We Need’ by David Budbill
Thanks Sonya. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into a time of silence, I’m going to share a very short poem by David Budbill, titled ‘What We Need’, for me it speaks so perfectly to this moment, and distils the message of today’s service. In fact this poem is so short, only 33 words, that I’m going to read it twice. 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.
The Emperor,
his bullies
and henchmen
terrorize the world
every day,
which is why
every day
we need
a little poem
of kindness,
a small song
of peace
a brief moment
of joy.
(pause and repeat)
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Last Song by Alexis Ffrench (performed by Gigi Lam)
Reading: ‘You Be Glad at That Star’ by Clarke Wells (John to read)
Several years ago, and shortly after twilight, our 3 ½ year old tried to gain his parents’ attention to a shining star.
The parents were busy with time and schedules, the irritabilities of the day and other worthy pre-occupations. “Yes, yes, we see the star – now I’m busy, don’t bother me.” On hearing this the young one launched through the porch door, fixed us with a fiery gaze and said, “You be glad at that star!”
I will not forget the incident or his perfect words. It was one of those rare moments when you get everything you need for the good of your soul – reprimand, disclosure and blessing. It was especially good for me, that surprising moment, because I am one who responds automatically and negatively to the usual exhortations to “pause-and-be-more-appreciative-of-life.” Fortunately, I was caught grandly off guard.
There is a notion, with some truth in it, that we cannot command joy, happiness, appreciation, fulfilment. We do not engineer the seasons of the soul or enjoin the quality of mood in another, and yet, I do believe there is right and wisdom in that imperative declaration – you be glad at that star!
If we cannot impel ourselves into a stellar gladness, we can at least clean the dust from the lens of our perception; if we cannot dictate our own fulfilment, we can at least steer in the right direction; if we cannot exact a guarantee for a more appreciative awareness of our world – for persons and stars and breathing and tastes and the incalculable gift of every day – we can at least prescribe some of the conditions through which an increased awareness is more likely to open up the skies, for us and for our children.
It is not always the great evils that obstruct and waylay our joy. It is our unnecessary and undignified surrender to the petty enemies: and I suggest it is our duty to scheme against them and make them subservient to human decree – time and schedules, our irritabilities of the day, and other worthy preoccupations. Matters more subtle and humane should command our lives. You be glad at that star.
Mini-Reflection: ‘Light Relief’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall (with an invitation to collect and create moments of lightness)
Thanks John. As I said at the beginning of the service, our focus this morning is on staying in touch with what’s still good in the world – reconnecting with our sources of uplift and joy – even when our personal situation is really tough, or the world seems to be falling apart, or it’s all happening at once.
I don’t know if this resonates with you, but at times when I’m feeling all too painfully aware of all the horrors going on around the world – the brutality of war, genocide, and creeping fascism are right up in our faces (not to mention all the more bloodless forms of cruelty like austerity that have been drip, drip, dripping away for years) – and the impact of all this is getting ever closer to home – in these times I do feel some kind of duty to at the very least bear witness to these horrible aspects of our shared reality (and, as far as is possible, make whatever small contribution I can to resist the world’s evils). Sometimes I find myself feeling a kind of pressure, coming both from within and without – a nagging sense that it’s wrong to turn away from it all – almost obscene for me to just go on living my nice life, having a laugh, enjoying myself, while so many others are suffering, and the planet is burning.
I think that view is not entirely without merit… but this is one of those ‘both/and’ service topics. Maybe some of us are more temperamentally inclined to stay in touch with what’s going on in the world, and we find it hard to look away from the latest outrage and injustice we’ve been made aware of. Maybe some of us just find it all too overwhelming, and focus on doing our bit closer to home. Maybe some of us do bury our heads in the sand, and simply avoid engaging with this tough stuff.
I suppose the heart of today’s message is to encourage each of us to stay awake and pay attention to what’s real – both the good and the bad bits of life – and to strike a better balance in where we put our awareness and attention. On the one hand – it is really important to bear witness to suffering and injustice – and use whatever means we have at our disposal to push back against the wrongs we see. On the other hand – if we focus relentlessly on horror and awfulness we are liable to drown in despair – and that doesn’t help anybody really – so we must make sure we regularly come up for air. So many of us are caught up in it – this feeling of impotence at being unable to stop bad things happening – of metaphorically watching dozens of car crashes unfold in slow motion all around the planet each day. It is all too easy to feel overwhelmed and crushed by the scale of it. And I suspect that’s when we’re more likely to become fatalistic, engage in denial, or disengage altogether and just look the other way.
Activist burnout is definitely a thing too – I’ve known a number of good, kind, passionate people who have made themselves physically and mentally ill through trying to save the world single-handed – people whose conscience calls them to make great sacrifices for the greater good and who find it intolerable to sit on the sidelines – such people sometimes rail at those of us who don’t seem to be pulling our weight in the struggle for liberation. And I understand this too – though such righteous anger can sometimes alienate potential allies – but we really do need all hands on deck for this task.
However, if we are going to do our bit for the betterment of the world, we need to be in it for the long haul, and this will require us to engage in practices of renewal on a regular basis. We need to periodically regroup and regather our strength for the fight. And that’s what I want to remind you of today: it is vital to take time to reconnect with the good things in life, the things that make life worth living, and reach out to others who care about the things that really matter for mutual support. Let’s give ourselves permission to enjoy ourselves – It is alright to fully live this life we’ve been given – even when the world is apparently falling apart around us. We can still gather together to sing, dance, make art. If it makes you happy you can wear your brightest frock to church – to paraphrase Victoria Safford, in the piece Sonya read earlier, you can: ‘punctuate your days with sacred celebration and with rituals signifying joy, no matter what you have – or don’t – to work with, no matter what fury the world outside is howling. Savour life and breath and all you days no matter what is dealt to you.’
I don’t often set homework for you but this week I’ve put a little green slip in your orders of service – it’s inspired by the words of David Budbill we reflected on for our meditation today – ‘Every day we need a little poem of kindness, a small song of peace, a brief moment of joy.’
In the week to come I invite you – I might even go so far as to say I encourage you – to collect or create a brief moment of joy each day and jot it down on your little green handout (and if you’re at home you can get all this information on the website and create your own list). This might involve noticing the good stuff that is already happening around you or it might involve going out of your way to make good things happen. I’m hoping this might kickstart a habit of finding these moments of joy – of ‘light relief’, indeed – regardless of what else is going on in your life and the wider world… if you manage to keep it up for a week, see if you can keep it going through advent and beyond (and if you miss a day don’t let that stop you! You can just carry on the next day…)
On the back of the little slip I’ve printed some suggestions you might try (some of these were crowdsourced from my friends on Facebook and some I’ve already done myself this week):
Maybe look up some music you used to listen to when you were a kid, or a teenager, and sing along (or dance) with gusto to your old favourites (I was singing along to Doctor and the Medics’ ‘Spirit in the Sky’ this week and I know Jeannene liked that one in her teenage years too). Or reach out to reconnect with a friend who you haven’t been in touch with for too long and let them know you’re thinking of them fondly. Perhaps spend some time playing (or cuddling up) with a friendly cat or dog (or if you don’t have access to any pets watch cute cat and dog videos online). This is a big one – create something! – write a poem, draw a picture, take a photo, knit a scarf, bake a cake – or just set aside ten minutes for a quick burst of creative play (if you have watercolours, felt tips, plasticine to hand). Or you could do a random act of kindness for a neighbour or a stranger – or express your specific and sincere appreciation towards a friend or acquaintance – right out of the blue. How about going out to a beautiful place in nature that you don’t manage to get to often (or you’ve always meant to go but not got round to). Or spending time in a familiar place with the intent of noticing and appreciating your usual surroundings with fresh eyes.
See how you get on with this – I look forward to hearing more – maybe tell our WhatsApp group.
I want to close with some words from Rick Hanson – he’s a Buddhist-leaning psychologist, and senior fellow of UC Berkeley’s Greater Good Centre, and a all-round good egg who I’ve got a lot of time for – and he shared these words of wisdom a few days after the US election: ‘Throughout history, most people have lived under tough conditions while still finding their ways to be happy. If they could do it, we can, too. Know that most things are beyond your control. Try to accept this fact, and uncertainty, and not always knowing. [And then…] What brings you to peace? Neurologically, it helps to raise your gaze, look out a window, take a bird’s-eye view. Take some breaths, with the exhalations longer than the inhalations. Tune into the internal sensations of breathing, which will help to quiet inner chatter. Look around and see so many things that are [as yet] unaffected by the political ups and downs: trees reaching for the sky, birds flying, friends cooking dinner, good music, laughter, love flowing. Turn toward whatever are reliable sources of well-being and comfort and wisdom for you: perhaps the simple taste of a banana, the hug of a friend, the eager look in your dog’s eyes, the vastness of the night sky, the onward developments of science, the perennial insights of the great teachers, or the simple rainbow beauty of an oil sheen in a puddle.’
Wise words from Rick Hanson. And may it be so for the greater good of all. Amen.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘All of Life Is Filled with Wonder’
Our final hymn today is on the back of your hymn sheet: ‘All of Life is Filled with Wonder’. It’s to a very stirring and familiar tune so let’s sing up as best we can.
All of life is filled with wonder,
so we thank you, God of love —
For the crash of evening thunder,
clearing clouds, then stars above;
For the night that turns to glowing
as we feel the morning mist,
God, we praise and thank you, knowing
every day we're truly blessed.
For the joy of daily waking,
for the gift of each new day,
For the smell of fresh bread baking,
for the sound of children's play,
For the ways we seek to serve you
as we work and volunteer,
God we humbly praise and thank you
for your presence with us here.
For the ways we're blessed with plenty —
love and laughter, neighbours, friends,
Nature's wonders, seasons' bounty,
life in you that never ends,
For the ones who've gone before us,
giving witness to your way —
We rejoice in all you give us
every moment, every day.
For your love in times of trouble,
for your peace when things are tough,
For your help when hardships double,
for your grace that is enough,
For a stranger's gentle kindness,
for a doctor's healing skill —
God, we thank you that you bless us,
and you bless your world as well.
For your presence in our neighbours,
for your love that claims and frees.
For our talents and our labours,
for our faith communities.
For your daily great surprises —
poor ones lifted, lost ones found —
God, we thank you! Hope still rises,
as your gifts of grace abound.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting. Thanks to Jeannene for co-hosting. If you’re joining on Zoom please do hang on after the service for a chat. Thanks to Antony, Sonya and John for reading. Thanks to Gigi for lovely music and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to John for greeting and Pat (and Anna) for making coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – do stay for a cuppa and some cake (it’s berry lime drizzle this week) – served in the hall next door.
After today’s service you can sing with Margaret – from 12.30pm – get your tea and then come back.
Tonight and Friday at 7pm 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 ‘Boundaries’. Sign up with me if you want to get the Zoom link for that or if you just want to know more about it. And on Wednesday we have an in-person Heart and Soul on ‘Sacrifice’– let me know if you’re coming.
Next week Heidi and John will be holding a book launch after the service – their new collection of art and poetry, ‘Affinities’ – there will be readings and refreshments and all are welcome.
Our next ‘Better World Book Club’ will be on ‘When the Dust Settles’ by Lucy Easthope – very interesting book – I think we’ve still got one copy to loan out if you’d like to join us next Sunday.
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 our service will feature a special appearance from The Heart of London Threshold Singers, which features several of our own congregation – Sonya, Julia, friends from the OneLight group – this choir sings at the bedsides of dying people – they’ll be telling us about that and we’ll be reflecting more broadly on the practice of accompanying dying people in the last days of life.
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. And they’re also in our fancy new newsletter! (show newsletter) If you’re a signed-up member of the congregation you should have received a copy in the post. If you’re not a signed-up member – why not sign up as a member?! – but in the meantime you’re welcome to take a copy from the foyer. If you’ve got a friend who might be interested in what we do you could take a copy to give to them – this is in part meant to be a promotional tool – people don’t really know who we are or what we do and I’m hoping this will show us in a good light so I’m keen for us to get it into people’s hands and maybe in time it will help us to grow the congregation.
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 Tim Haley
We walk this earth but a brief moment in time.
Amid our struggles and uncertainties, however great or small,
let us continue to learn how to celebrate life in all its variety and contradiction.
Let us continue to grow in our capacity to love ourselves and each other.
And let us continue to move toward the goal of a better world,
a global community of peace, justice, joy and liberation for all.
Go forth this day in a renewed spirit of courage and hope
and with the wisdom to greet the week to come. Amen.
Closing Music: Nocturne Autumn by Agnieszka Lasko (performed by Gigi Lam)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
17th November 2024