Sunday Service, 19 January 2025
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Sonata Sesta - J.D. Braun (performed by Holly Redshaw and Alison Wormell)
Opening Words: ‘True Religion’ by Cliff Reed (adapted)
If a religion is true, it sets you free to be your true self;
it nurtures loving-kindness and generosity in your heart;
it humbles you before the Ultimate – and before your neighbour.
If a religion is true, it challenges your conscience and opens your mind;
it makes you responsible for yourself and for your world;
it stirs you to seek the liberation and wellbeing of others.
If a religion is true, it deepens your awareness and nourishes your spirit;
it brings you comfort and strength in times of grief and trial;
it connects you to other people and to the life of the universe.
If a religion is true, it will care less for dogma and doctrine than it will for love;
it will care less for rules and customs than it will for compassion;
it will care less for the gods we make than for the people we are.
As we gather together in community this morning, may ours be a true religion.
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words adapted from Cliff Reed welcome all who have gathered this misty morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining us via Zoom, and anyone watching or listening at a later date via YouTube or the podcast. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.
This morning service is titled ‘Think Again’. Through readings and hymns, poetry and prayer, we’ll take some time on reflect on the importance of being open to rethinking, changing our mind, and revising our understanding. The Unitarian way challenges us to engage in critical thinking, to question incessantly, so that we are forever in the process of refining and adding nuance to our worldview. Of course, there’s a balance to be struck – there’s certainly something to be said for having strong convictions which stir us to act for the betterment of the world – but this needs to go hand-in-hand with a certain intellectual humility, to ensure we don’t get stuck in fixed or reactive ways of thinking that don’t serve us very well, or are holding us back.
Chalice Lighting: ‘New Light’ by Charles A. Howe (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)
We light this chalice to affirm that new light
is ever waiting to break through to enlighten our ways:
That new truth is ever waiting to break through to illumine our minds:
And that new love is ever waiting to break through to warm our hearts.
May we be open to this light, this truth, this love, and to the rich possibilities that it brings us.
Hymn 158 (purple): ‘The Flame of Truth is Kindled’
Let’s sing together. Our first hymn this morning is number 158 in the purple hymn book: ‘The Flame of Truth is Kindled’. For those joining via zoom the words will be up on screen (as they will for all our hymns). Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s sing up as best we can.
The flame of truth is kindled,
our chalice burning bright;
amongst us moves the Spirit
in whom we take delight.
We worship here in freedom
with conscience unconstrained,
a pilgrim people thankful
of what great souls have gained.
The flame of thought is kindled,
we celebrate the mind:
its search for deepest meaning
that time-bound creeds can't bind.
We celebrate its oneness
with body and with soul,
with universal process,
with God who makes us whole.
The flame of love is kindled,
we open wide our hearts,
that it may burn within us,
fuel us to do our parts.
Community needs building,
a Commonwealth of Earth,
we ask for strength to build it -
a new world come to birth.
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 Bruce Southworth
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on some words by Bruce Southworth. You might 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)
At moments like this we gather, each alone in our solitude.
May we embrace this moment, in silence, allowing
the gentle breath to clear our minds,
and soothe our weary souls.
At moments like these we try to put aside
the daily obstacles, the headaches and irritations;
we try to lay down our worries about the world’s troubles
and open ourselves to the pulse of Life, the flow of Life.
We may carry with us fears and hopes about health or illness,
about work or relationships, about success or failure;
for a moment we seek to set them aside too,
and take time to nurture our deepest selves…
We know that we need one another
and we must keep faith with one another
if we are to keep faith with the world –
to play our part in making peace and justice –
to live each day with generosity and mercy –
to do the holy work of Love.
In this quiet time, when we open ourselves to the depths,
may we sense and know the Spirit of Life and Love within us –
ever at hand – guiding and sustaining - so the strength we need
and the compassion the world needs will come to us
in our times of trial and transformation. (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.
ONLINE Reading: ‘How We Belong’ by Alex Jensen (adapted) (Charlotte to read)
Unitarians can and do believe many different things about life’s biggest questions; about God, the greater mystery, about what happens to us when we die. Though you can’t be a Unitarian if you don’t agree about some of the more important parts of this faith.
You can’t be a Unitarian, or you won’t be much of a good one, if you cling to prejudiced or oppressive views of others; if you in any way believe that someone else is somehow inferior or anything lesser than human. You can’t be a Unitarian if you can’t tolerate big questions or critically examine what it is that you believe and why.
You can’t be a Unitarian if you fundamentally believe there is only one path or one spiritual truth out there to make meaning of life and to understand it. If you cling to just one set of beliefs, dogmas, or creeds and shut out the possibilities and offerings of other traditions that are different from your own, you’re not a Unitarian.
As wide as our welcoming embrace is, there are some things that are non-negotiable for us as a people. Those non-negotiables are the inherent worth and dignity of each person, no matter who they are; the rigour of critical thinking about ourselves and our beliefs; and the bounty of the world’s traditions that each hold a piece of the cosmic puzzle about how we might understand these wild, wondrous lives of ours.
No, you can’t be a Unitarian and believe just anything you want. You can believe in a lot of things… But there are some fundamental things that bring us and bind us together as a faith tradition.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘Welcome Doubt! Refine our Thinking’
Thanks Charlotte. Let’s sing again now – it’s on your hymn sheet – ‘Welcome Doubt! Refine our Thinking’. I think this one is completely new to us but it’s to an old tune which you might know. Andrew will play it through before we sing – and we’ve got Benjie to help us – so let’s give it a go.
Welcome doubt! Refine our thinking,
Urge us further into light;
Lead us to a greater dawning
From the shadows of our night.
Welcome knowledge! Food for wisdom,
Leaving prejudice behind;
Pledge of science, fruit of reason,
Seeking love with all our mind.
Welcome truth! But little caring
Whence it come, cost what it will;
Though it challenge deep conviction,
Truth shall be our focus still.
Welcome faith! Our thought transcending,
Touching mystery divine;
Joy of trusting, source of action,
Fervent hope’s courageous sign.
Welcome grace! Without deserving,
Unexpected, pride at bay;
Spirit’s riches shower upon us
As we give our lives away.
In-Person Reading: ‘Unsticking My Mind’ by Tomo Hillbo (Antony to read)
This reading by Unitarian Universalist Tomo Hillbo opens with a quote from Vanda Scaravelli: “A rigid mind is very sure but often wrong. A flexible mind is generally unsure, but often right.”
Hillbo continues: I’ve never encountered a Japanese household without a rice cooker. Rice is more than a staple food for us; it’s our culture. Our reverence for rice, combined with our love of tech gadgets, has begotten rice cookers that are almost artificially intelligent. We are absolute rice nerds.
When I moved out of Japan thirty years ago, I started making rice on the stovetop. Have you tried baking bread without an oven? That might be an equivalent. But I learned. By the time I got divorced, I had nearly twenty years of rice-cooking-without-a-rice-cooker experience, and I was very proud and sure about my skills.
But after the divorce, my rice started tasting not so great. It was dry; it lacked lustre and bounce, just like how I felt at the time. I was still quite confident in my method and skills to make good rice.
A decade later, I finally realized what was wrong: My mind was stuck on the certainty that I knew how to make rice well. It didn’t even occur to me that the knowledge I held dear might need to change.
I started noticing things that weren’t the same after the divorce: cooktop (was gas before, now electric), pots (I had left my old, trusty pots with my ex), and measuring cups (same as pots). Almost nothing was the same. No wonder my rice didn’t taste the same! It’s astounding that I was so sure of myself that I couldn’t notice any of this.
This stickiness of mind—how our minds tend to fixate on one idea—happens everywhere. I hear people complaining about an event I help organize, even after changes have been made and the event hasn’t been the same for years. I encounter people who keep assuming something about me and I have to keep reminding them that it may be true for some Japanese women but it is not true for me.
Oppressive systems thrive in minds that are sticky, no matter how good our intentions are. We must unstick our minds if we want to bring change into the world. I will remember this every time I cook rice from now on: I need a constant reminder to monitor the stickiness of my mind.
Hillbo concludes with a prayer: Spirit of Life and Love, grant us courage to be vulnerable to know that we are often wrong, and wisdom to amend our mistakes and find new ways of being. May the grace of Spirit bless us with humility for self-examination and bravery for a lifetime of transformation.
Words for Meditation: ‘may my heart always be open’ by e. e. cummings
We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share a short poem by e.e. cummings – this might be a bit tangential – but I think it gives us something worth meditating on nonetheless. The words will take us into a few minutes of shared silence which will end with the sound of a bell. And then we’ll hear some more music from Holly and Alison. So let’s each do what we need to do to get comfortable – adjust your position if you need to – perhaps put your feet flat on the floor to ground and steady yourself – maybe close your eyes. As we always say, the words are just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Mvt. II: Largo, from Canonic Sonata in B flat minor - G. P. Telemann (performed by Holly Redshaw and Alison Wormell)
Reading: ‘Aha Moments’ by Rachel Rogers (excerpts, adapted) (Brian to read)
From a young age, I have had a tendency, which I believe to be born from my early religious upbringing, to perceive “right” and “wrong” on most topics as being absolute. I have always been a person who was terribly resistant to having my beliefs changed in any way. To suddenly let go of a belief, or to declare that I saw something in a new way, felt like announcing to the world that I had been lazy in my belief before changing my mind, or that I had been living in an inauthentic way. My search for truth and meaning carried with it a lot of self-judgment and subconscious requirements to “get it right” that held me back from expanding my mind and ultimately claiming more freedom for myself.
Maria Popova, author of the book Figuring and publisher of the literary blog the Marginalian, describes such resistance, and my predicament, beautifully. She writes:
“The fact that we humans have such a notoriously hard time changing our minds undoubtedly has to do with the notion that ‘human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they’re finished,’ which belies the great robbery of the human experience — by calling ourselves beings, we deny our ever-unfolding becomings. Only in childhood are we afforded the luxury of inhabiting our becoming, but once forced to figure out who we want to be in life, most of us are so anxious about planting that stake of being that we bury the alive, active process of our becoming.” Maria Popova goes on to say “The uncomfortable luxury of changing our mind is central to the courage of facing our becoming with our whole being.” (short pause)
We have the freedom to change our minds. To do so is to welcome becoming our whole selves. We do not lose anything by changing our minds. We gain more. We expand. We find more of ourselves. This isn’t something to be feared. This is something to be sought after. Something to celebrate.
As a Unitarian Universalist, I am surrounded by people who make a spiritual practice out of changing their mind – learning something new and allowing it to transform their thinking – and that experience has stopped becoming something I resist and has started being something that I seek out. Instead of being fearful of learning something that will upend my belief, I now sit waiting for it to happen.
I call these moments of coming into new understanding “light-switch moments”, or “aha moments,” and they now feel more to me like direct experiences with the divine than something to be feared. These are a before and after to these moments for me. I’m walking around carrying a certain perspective or way of believing and then I experience something that shifts things for me. And now I have a choice. I can either reject this new idea, however much it excites me, in order to stay true to who I believe I am, and keep a sense of stasis, or I can say yes to the newfound invitation to something new.
Part of my spiritual journey in life has been about first blindly accepting a belief in God - then struggling to find that belief within myself for years in my Orthodox church of origin - to outright and passionately rejecting any belief in God - then opening my heart to a curious state of “there must be, but it is unknowable.” It’s been a wild ride. It’s a shift from “no, absolutely not” to “I can’t deny the possibility”.
To change one’s mind is to remember that we are alive and free. It is to open our hearts and draw our circle wider to include more and more people whose experiences and ways of understanding are different than ours. And what I’ve come to understand is this: to change one’s mind is holy.
Reading: ‘Knowing Nothing About God’ by Barbara Merritt (excerpts, adapted)
Thanks Brian. Our final reading today takes us into more theological territory; the following is an adapted excerpt from a sermon by the UU minister Barbara Merritt reflecting on the importance of intellectual humility when it comes to the big religious questions and knowing what we don’t know.
Barbara Merrit writes: What do we mean when we refer to God? What can you and I possibly know about the divine? About the holiest of holies? The energy at the heart of existence, a truth that is eternal. Having dedicated my entire life to trying to come closer to this higher power, I am somewhat startled at the age of 72 to have to admit I know nothing about God, and I never did, and it's looking extremely likely that I’m not going to know anything in the immediate future.
I cannot really speak to the true believers on either side of the religious divide. The dogmatic fundamentalists (who are to be found by the way in almost every faith tradition) already know exactly who God is, and who God protects, and who God saves. They have specific creedal words that nail that door shut – and anyone who doesn't agree, who doesn't play along, is going straight to hell. Neither do I hope to speak to the dogmatic atheists, they already know what is real and what is fantasy, and they are absolutely certain that there is no God, no creator, no higher purpose to existence, and anyone who disagrees with their evidence, and logic, and experience, is deemed to be gullible, delusional, naïve, or stupid, and they can be legitimately mocked, dismissed, ignored, which is a metaphorical kind of a “you too can go to hell”.
In a recent book by Adam Grant called Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don't Know, the author claims that dogmatic individuals on either side are suffering from what he calls fat cat syndrome, they rest on their laurels, on what they know thus far, and they make the assumption that there is not more to know. Grant offers a priceless definition of arrogance, he says arrogance equals ignorance plus conviction; what a combination! But he offers an inspiring alternative, embracing not knowing. He starts by using the scientific model: good science is searching for what is true, and favours curiosity over closure, doubt over certainty, and humility over pride. As in all serious endeavours, and I would include theology at its best, he urges us to encourage an actively open mind searching for reasons we might be wrong. He writes, if knowledge is power, knowing what we don't know is wisdom, and his preference for not knowing is practical, as well as theoretical. He reminds us “finding out you are wrong means now you are less wrong.” And he says, if you can't look back at yourself a year ago and say “how stupid I was!”, then you must not have learned much this year. The longer we are alive, the greater the chance we are given to discover how little we understand.
In Grant's book, he writes that our determination to keep out threatening information, i.e., anything or anyone we don't agree with, lets loose what he calls the totalitarian ego, and the inner dictator, and this arrogance is not just a threat to us as individuals, but also to our larger community and society. The Baal Shem Tov (the 18th century Jewish mystic who founded Hasidic Judaism) claimed that one humble sigh is better than all of our book learning, all of our education, all of our arrogance, especially if that study has made us judgmental or left us feeling superior – and especially if our study has ever made us sneer at those who have not had the privilege to learn. He understood that this study in humility was to go on to the end of our days, always challenging us to let go of our ignorance and our overconfident convictions. Always inviting us to stay open and curious, always admitting we have at the very best, a partial understanding and grasp of reality. Remember the words of T.S. Eliot: “humility is endless”.
Hymn 16 (purple): ‘Captive Voices Cry for Freedom’
Let’s sing again. Our final hymn is number 16 in your purple books: ‘Captive Voices Cry for Freedom’. Another tune we don’t sing that often so let’s hear it once before we sing. Hymn 16.
Captive voices cry for freedom,
arms pull bars that will not bend;
liberty - our priceless treasure -
we will cherish and defend.
Free to doubt and free to question,
free to seek and free to find;
let us celebrate our freedom,
free in spirit, free in mind.
Free our minds from narrow thinking,
free our hearts from prejudice;
fill our minds with hope and reason,
fill our hearts with joy and peace.
Free from bigotry and anger,
free from ignorance and fear;
humankind heed freedom's challenge,
speak, O Lord, and make us hear.
Free all troubled minds from torment,
bring them comfort and repose;
grant us also such a freedom
when our lives draw to their close.
Free from fear of separation,
unenlightened creeds proclaim
universal destination –
God of love, from whom we came.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Charlotte, Antony, and Brian for reading. Thanks to Holly, Alison and Andrew for lovely music today and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to John for greeting and Pat for doing the coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – please do stay for a cuppa and cake – we’ve got plum, hazelnut and chocolate cake – and I think there’s probably also some leftover carrot cake from midweek too.
After today’s service you can sing with Margaret – from 12.30pm – get your tea and then come back.
Today’s also our first ‘crafternoon’ – we’ll stay on in the hall for a couple of hours of art and craft play – we’re just going to get the art materials out of the cupboard and let you loose on them. And if this proves to be popular we’ll probably make it a regular low-effort Sunday hangout.
Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week we’re considering ‘Praise’ – and that’s our 250th week online – another landmark.
You’ve still got a week to read the book for this month’s Better World Book Club, it’s ‘How We Break’ by Vincent Deary, all our loan copies have gone but if you really want to come and are struggling to access the book have a word with me and I’ll see what we can do.
And I wanted to mention that we’re currently assembling materials for the next newsletter so if you are planning to send anything in to that you’ve only got a few days (deadline 24th Jan).
Next Sunday we’ll be back here at 11am for a congregational service titled ‘This Too Shall Pass’.
Details of all our various activities are printed on the back of the order of service, for you to take away, and also in the Friday email. Or why not take home a copy of our new fancy newsletter?
The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections.
Time for our closing words and closing music now.
Benediction: based on words by Gary Kowalski
May the blessings of life be upon us and upon this congregation.
May the memories we gather here give us hope for the future.
May the wisdom we receive prompt new growth and insight.
May the love that we share bring strength and joy to our hearts,
and the peace of this community be with us until we meet again. Amen.
Closing Music: Romanze - Hermann Wenzel (performed by Holly Redshaw, Alison Wormell and Andrew Robinson)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
19th January 2025