Sunday Service, 6 October 2024
Led by Patricia Brewerton and Members of the Congregation
Musical Prelude: Allegro from Sonata No. 6 by Francesca Lebrun (performed by Abby Lorimier & Andrew Robinson)
Opening Words: ‘We Have Come into this Room of Hope’ by Libbie D. Stoddard and Sharon Wylie (adapted)
We have come into this room of hope
where our hearts and minds are opened to the future.
We have come into this room of justice
where we set aside our fear to name freely every oppression.
We have come into this room of love
where we know that no lives are insignificant.
We have come into this room of song
where we unite our voices in the sombre and the beautiful melodies of life.
It is said that our worship should
comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.
I say, we are all afflicted, and we are all comfortable… sometimes.
May our time together this morning be both a comfort and a confrontation.
May we here find peace in times of tumult;
May we here invite tumult into lives of peace.
May we here find calm in times of restlessness;
May we here allow restlessness to evolve into action.
Let this be the place you consider what you’ve never considered;
Let this be the place you imagine for yourself something new and unthinkable.
May this hour bring dreams of new ways of being in the world.
Come, let us worship together.
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Libbie Stoddard and Sharon Wylie welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those of you who are here 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 Patricia, and I’m a member of Kensington Unitarians.
This morning’s service theme was chosen to tie in with National Poetry Day, which took place just a few days ago, on Thursday, and which this year was focused on ‘Counting’. So our service title this week is ‘Poems to Count On’. We invited a number of congregation members to choose poems that were meaningful to them, which they’d found helpful or comforting – the poems that speak to them in tough times and offer wisdom for life’s journey – so later in the service we’ll hear selections and reflections from Sara Helen, Shari, Julia, Michaela and Brian.
Chalice Lighting: ‘Our Connection and Uniqueness’ by Adam Slate
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)
We gather this morning as one community,
A community united by common ideals:
Love, justice, diversity, freedom, equity, mutual care.
Yet look around; think about who is gathered here.
Become aware of the beloved souls all around you.
Each an individual; every one of us with our own
particular story, needs, strengths, and faults.
We light our chalice today honouring our common connection
And also the uniqueness that lives within each of us. (pause)
Hymn 194 (purple): ‘We Light the Flame’
Let’s sing together. Our first hymn is 194 in your purple books: ‘We Light the Flame’. We do sing it from time to time but I’ll ask Andrew to play it through to refresh our memory. For those joining via zoom the words will be up on screen (as they will for all our hymns today). Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s sing up as best we can.
We light the flame that kindles our devotions.
We lift our hearts in blessed community.
The mind has thoughts, the heart its true emotions,
we celebrate in worship, full and free.
Our faith transcends the boundaries of oceans.
All shall be granted worth and dignity.
So many ways to witness to the wonder.
So many dreams by day for us to dare.
Yet, reaching out, each way is made the grander,
and love made bold for dreamers everywhere.
Diversity will never cast asunder
our common weal, our bonds of mutual care.
Infinite Spirit, dwell with us, we pray thee,
that we may share in life abundantly.
Forgive our sins, feed us with good bread daily,
with strength resist temptation steadfastly.
O God of life, sustain us now, and may we
with mindful hearts, be thankful constantly.
Candles of Joy and Concern:
Each week when we gather together, we share a simple ritual of candles of joy and concern, a chance 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 so people will be able to hear you. 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 Eila Forrester
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer includes some words by Eila Forrester. 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)
Let us now sit quietly and wait for the voice within us.
Let us simply listen, and be still for a while. (pause)
Some of us, this day, will feel empty and tired, grey and listless.
But emptiness and tiredness are also prayer, a cry for spiritual food
and an aching need for soothing refreshment and strength to go on.
Some of us feel alone, aware of our need for someone to love us.
This too is prayer without words, a longing and a sorrow which seeks
for the healing spirit of love, the embrace of God’s concern for us
in spirit and in soul, and in the practical hands of caring people.
Some of us are happy enough, some content,
some have hope and plans for tomorrow:
all these are prayers – prayers of giving, prayers of gratitude,
prayers of creating thought and dreams.
So let us gather with our wordless prayers –
prayers of our inner selves, our inner truth.
May God be with us in these prayers, sustaining them
and enabling us to grow more aware of our wordless selves.
May we be aware of the waters of our own spirit
which are always there for us to drink
if we will sit still, wait, and listen. (pause)
And in a few moments of shared silence and stillness now,
may we speak inwardly some of those deepest prayers of our hearts —
the joys and sorrows we came in carrying – in our own lives and the lives of the wider world.
Let us each lift up whatever is on our heart this day, and ask for what we most need.(long 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 21 (purple): ‘Come and Find the Quiet Centre’
Our next hymn is number 21 in your purple books, ‘Come and Find the Quiet Centre’. Please stand or sit as you prefer and sing up as best as you are able. Hymn number 21.
Come and find the quiet centre
in the crowded life we lead,
find the room for hope to enter,
find the space where we are freed:
clear the chaos and the clutter,
clear our eyes, that we can see
all the things that really matter,
be at peace, and simply be.
Silence is a friend who claims us,
cools the heat and slows the pace;
God it is who speaks and names us,
knows our being, touches base,
making space within our thinking,
lifting shades to show the sun,
raising courage when we’re shrinking,
finding scope for faith begun.
In the Spirit let us travel,
open to each other’s pain;
let our lives and fears unravel,
celebrate the space we gain:
there’s a place for deepest dreaming,
there’s a time for heart to care;
in the Spirit’s lively scheming
there is always room to spare.
Online Reflection: ‘The Road Not Taken’ by Robert Frost (reflection by Sara Helen Binney)
I have a poem to share which I think many of you will know, and possibly think too straightforward to count on – but I’d like share a different way of thinking about it which I’ve found really helpful.
It’s ‘The Road Not Taken’, by Robert Frost:
‘Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.’
The way this poem is often talked about is all about those last lines: ‘I took the road less traveled by, / And that has made all the difference.’ Taking the less well-trodden path, making the difficult choice, following your conscience instead of the crowd – these are good Unitarian lessons.
But when I used to read this poem with incarcerated men as part of a prison reading group run by The Reader Organisation, they often had a different reading.
It started with annoyance: the paths are the same, they’d say. There’s no difference between them. So how can one be ‘less traveled by’? It doesn’t make sense.
I’d never thought of it this way before. They were right, of course, these men who often found poetry intimidating or frustrating: the poem very clearly shows both paths, both choices, as equal. One is ‘just as fair’ as the other; ‘both that morning equally lay / In leaves no step had trodden black.’ Even that sense of one being less worn than the other isn’t really borne out: the speaker says one has ‘perhaps the better claim, / Because it was grassy and wanted wear;’ but then immediately equivocates:‘Though as for that the passing there / Had worn them really about the same.’
So both paths are ‘less traveled’; there’s no real difference between them. Or as my therapist often tells me: sometimes there’s no right choice – or no wrong one. Sometimes choices, like paths in a yellow wood, are much of a muchness.
What ‘makes all the difference ‘, then, isn’t the specific choice you make – it’s that you make a choice at all. I often get decision fatigue, or choice paralysis – I can’t even decide what to call it – but whether it’s what to have for dinner or what to do with my life, the specific choice is less important than actually making one: being an active participant in your life and not letting yourself drift along on other people’s choices. Taking ownership of your decisions, and following where they lead – that ‘has made all the difference’.
Online Reflection: ‘Trust in the Lord and Do Good’ – Psalm 37, verses 3-4 (Reflection by Shari McDaid)
When Jane asked me to select a poem that had consoled me and write a reflection on it, I struggled at first because I couldn’t think of a poem that I relate to in that way. Then I thought of this section of the Bible,
Trust in the Lord and do good,
Dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture,
Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.
The phrases come from Psalm 37, verses 3-4, and I came to know them in the early 1990s. At that time, a stranger in London, I fell into a charismatic Christian fellowship. The group practiced a type of bibliomancy, or divination from the scriptural text. One would get one’s bible, close your eyes and open it up to any random place, then put your index finger on a page and open your eyes to see what text you had landed on. The idea was that the Holy Spirit was guiding you to a text that was relevant to your situation, guidance specifically for you.
So, on one of these occasions when I was praying with my boyfriend of the time, my dip led me to this section of the bible.
So why has that verse remained with me? The truth is, I have a tendency to collapse. Not that you would necessarily realise this unless you know me very well. I disguise it, make excuses, only agree to social engagements where I can plan for it not to happen or where this a way of escape. But it does happen, still, even at this age, so many years later than the first episode.
During these episodes I feel a combination of uncomfortable physical symptoms and negative thoughts that can be completely overwhelming. And almost always, they send me to my bed for hours, lying there trying to cope with the negative feelings and thoughts.
At these times, those three lines of the bible often come to my mind. When I am struggling with physical discomfort and negative thoughts, lying in bed, and can manage to think of nothing else, those words can often be of comfort. Their simplicity, absoluteness and conciseness mean I can repeat them over and over in my mind to help combat negative thoughts. Sometimes I draw on only a portion, repeating ‘Trust in the Lord’ over and over again. I don’t even really believe in an interventionist God, but there is something in those words that continues to resonate, a sense that the world will ultimately be okay no matter what I am feeling in that moment. It’s just one way that the bible continues to have relevance to my life.
Meditation: ‘How To Eat a Poem’ by Eve Merriam
Thanks Shari and Sara Helen. We’re moving into a time of meditation. To take us into a time of silence, I’m going to share a very short and playful poem by Eve Merriam about how we might approach poetry. 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.
‘How To Eat a Poem’ by Eve Merriam
Don’t be polite.
Bite in.
Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that
may run down your chin.
It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are.
You do not need a knife or fork or spoon
or plate or napkin or tablecloth.
For there is no core
or stem
or rind
or pit
or seed
or skin
to throw away.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Elegy by Laura Valborg Aulin (performed by Abby Lorimier and Andrew Robinson)
In-Person Reflection: ‘Caged Bird’ by Maya Angelou (Reflection by Julia Alden)
A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom. (pause)
Reflection by Julia Alden: In 1969 Maya Angelou’s book, ‘I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings’ was published. Shortly after the poem of the same name was written and published. I was introduced to this poem as a fifteen-year-old in my youth group at the United Methodist Church in a small town in Illinois. Our youth group was guided by Reverend Hunt, who focused our efforts more on issues of social justice and civil rights awareness over bible study. It was a risky decision to take in that small town of 2500 inhabitants, but it was a sign of the times. As part of our youth group’s inquiry into the civil rights movement, we delved into Angelou’s poem. The poem depicted the oppression and struggle of African Americans in the United States at that time. It was controversial to be introducing that theme.
The study of the poem and the civil rights movement was followed by a trip to Chicago (about 2 hours away) to learn about a program called Operation Breadbasket. Operation Breadbasket was run by Reverend Jesse Jackson, who we did get to meet, and was instrumental at that time in pressuring white businesses through boycotts and negotiations to provide more jobs and economic opportunities to blacks. Jackson went on to become a well-known leader in both civil rights and in politics. This was really my first authentic experience at looking at what was happening in race relations in the US, in challenging my beliefs and opening my eyes to the real world. It was exciting.
For me, this poem was a creative catalyst for opening my eyes to some realities that were often not talked about or addressed in a small midwestern town and in a church youth group. The study of the poem (and other texts) and the experiences of the youth group really moulded my future thinking and even professional choices for life. While most of you know me as one who has had a privileged career in international education, I spent over a decade of my early career involved in community organizations and education in the inner city. The poem depicts so well the stark contrast between the bird of freedom and the one caged from oppression. I had not thought about that aspect of life deeply in that way before this introduction.
Maya Angelou herself went through much pain and oppression in her life. She endured through the help of her powerful human spirit. While the poem speaks of Black Americans, its formidable message touches anyone who has felt oppressed by society, family, gender or even religion. The caged bird never stops singing for freedom. There is always the enduring hope and resilience of the human spirit to set your wings free and flourish.
In-Person Reflection: ‘My Sweet Crushed Angel’ by Hafiz (trans. Daniel Ladinsky) (reflection by Michaela von Britkze)
You have not danced so badly, my dear,
Trying to hold hands with the Beautiful One.
You have waltzed with great style,
My sweet, crushed angel,
To have ever neared God’s Heart at all.
Our Partner is notoriously difficult to follow,
And even His best musicians are not always easy
To hear.
So what if the music has stopped for a while.
So what
If the price of admission to the Divine
Is out of reach tonight.
So what my dear,
If you do not have the ante to gamble for Real Love.
The mind and the body are famous
For holding the heart ransom,
But Hafiz knows the Beloved’s eternal habits.
Have patience,
For he will not be able to resist your longing
For long.
You have not danced so badly, my dear,
Trying to kiss the Beautiful One.
You have actually waltzed with tremendous style,
O my sweet,
O My sweet, crushed angel. (pause)
Reflection by Michaela von Britzke: Jane asked us to share a poem that has nurtured and comforted us along the way… For me, what I’m going to share with you is the ultimate in joyful celebration of human limits and potential. It gifted to us all by the Persian Sufi poet of the late Middle Ages, Hafiz. He does the job of acceptance to perfection by validating that it is enough to do the best we can to join the heavenly dance.
I won’t do any clever interpretation – it speaks for itself. But let me tell you how this poem came to me – on Bath Station many years ago, when my friend Peter insisted on reading it to me as we were waiting for the London train… Since then this poem has made its home in my mind and in my heart, and made its way to many friends over the year in times of need. It is balm for the soul, whenever I needed reminding that walking the spiritual path is not about perfection but faithfulness, sticking to the dance when in fact
Our Partner is notoriously difficult to follow,And even His best musicians are not always easyTo hear
This is the heart of this poem for me – that in a wonderful, unpredictable way we just have to do what we can – that enough is ‘good enough!’
In-Person Reflection: Ode 11 from the First Book of Odes, by the Roman poet Horace (Reflection by Brian Ellis)
Do not inquire, we may not know,
what end the gods have
for you and for me, my friend,
and avoid your horoscopes.
Better to accept what will be,
whether we are granted more winters
or this is the last to wear out
the sea against the cliffs.
Be wise, decant the wine,
limit your long-term hopes.
As we talk time runs on:
seize each day, don’t believe
too much in tomorrow. (pause)
Reflection by Brian Ellis: Not the most poetic of poets, but I’ve known this ode and Horace’s other odes for getting on for sixty years, and I think he is the poet that I have most returned to in the intervening years.
A few of the odes are concerned with public and patriotic ideas but the majority are about personal and private themes, amounting to no more than sensible advice on coping with life.
Take the middle way, don’t rock the boat too much, enjoy the ordinary, be contented with enough, and occasionally caste a satirical eye on life, and upon yourself. Alexander Pope, the poet and essayist said of the Odes that they expressed ‘what oft was thought, but never so well expressed’.
When I was caring for my wife during the year or so in which she was dying I kept a translation of the Odes on my bedside table, and sometimes just before going to sleep I would read one or two of them; Ode 11 was probably the most read of all. Horace felt like a steady and quite avuncular presence when I needed a gentle arm around my shoulders, and to be reassured that taking each day as it came was what was needed, and to be too concerned with the future was a waste of that day’s much needed energy.
He remains a friend reminding me as I pass through older age: “but one night awaits us all, the road to death is travelled only once”: Odes 1.28.
Hymn: 39 (purple): ‘For the Splendour of Creation’
Thanks Brian, Michaela, and Julia. Time for our last hymn now, it’s number 39 in the purple book, ‘For the Splendour of Creation’, to a well-known tune. Let’s sing up and enjoy it.
For the splendour of creation that draws us to inquire,
for the mystery of knowledge to which our hearts aspire,
for the deep and subtle beauties which delight the eye and ear,
for the discipline of logic, the struggle to be clear,
for the unexplained remainder, the puzzling and the odd:
for the joy and pain of learning, we give you thanks, O God.
For the scholars past and present whose bounty we digest,
for the teachers who inspire us to summon forth our best,
for our rivals and companions, sometimes foolish, sometimes wise,
for the human web upholding this noble enterprise,
for the common life that binds us through days that soar or plod:
for this place and for these people, we give you thanks, O God.
Announcements:
Thanks to everyone who offered a reflection today: Sara Helen, Shari, Julia, Michaela and Brian. Thanks to Abby, Andrew, and Benjie for lovely music. Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting. Thanks to Shari for co-hosting. If you’re joining on Zoom please do hang on after the service for a chat. Thanks to Liz for greeting and Julia for making coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – please do stay for a cuppa – that’ll be served in the hall next door.
We’ve got various in-person activities coming up – this Wednesday at 7pm it’s the Community Singing group – let Jane know if you’re planning to come along in case of last-minute changes.
We’ve got an online ‘Heart & Soul’ Contemplative Spiritual Gathering tonight and Friday at 7pm and our theme this week is ‘Questions’. We gather for sharing and prayer and it is a great way to get to know others on a deeper level. Sign up with Jane if you want to join in.
The next meeting of the ‘Better World Book Club’ will be on ‘Africa is Not a Country’ by Dipo Faloyin. We’ve got a few library copies if you’d like to borrow one. Let Jane know if you want to join that session on Sunday 27th October.
Jane is back to lead our Harvest Festival service next week – she encourages you to bring along some home grown veg – or some favourite vegetables to decorate the table – and the theme of the service will be ‘Our Daily Bread’ so if any of you are bakers and might like to bring along some home-made bread she’d be grateful if you could bring some along.
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: with 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: Slavonic Dance from ‘American Suite’ by Antonin Dvořák (performed by Abby Lorimier and Andrew Robinson)
Members of the Congregation
Sunday 6th October 2024
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