Sunday Service, 1 September 2024
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: The Ash Grove – Trad. (performed by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)
Opening Words: ‘We Gather Here in Search’ by Sue Ayer (adapted)
We gather here in search of answers to life’s big questions.
We have come in search of understanding, in search of community.
We have come in search of stillness and solace, hope and healing.
Let this be a place not only of searching, but of discovery.
Let this be a place of learning, but of wisdom.
Let this be a place not only of meeting, but of connection.
And let this be a place where healing fosters giving and hope fosters service.
This is our prayer: that we may create here a circle of love, ever expanding,
ever growing, as we seek to know the very source of our being. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These opening words by Sue Ayer 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 titled ‘To Whom it May Concern’. Today is World Letter Writing Day – a day to celebrate and encourage the writing of letters – a form of communication and connection that is perhaps falling out of favour now we’ve got smartphones and texts and facetime and all that – but this morning we’re going to lift up the old-fashioned art of connecting via correspondence. There can be something special, even sacred, about sending and receiving letters. I like this quote from Karol Jackowski who says, ‘because of their soul-to-soul sacramental nature, letters seem to bear a mysteriously heartfelt power, that somehow makes the sender present.’ So perhaps this morning we can rediscover the art of letter-writing and reflect on it as a spiritual practice of sorts.
Later in the service we’ll hear a reflection from Carolyn Appleby about a correspondence with a friend that carried on for 43 years! And after that, in the spot where we’d usually have a sermon-y bit, we’ll have an opportunity for you – whether you are here in person or online – to tell us about significant letters you’ve sent and received (but as always this is an invitation not an obligation).
Chalice Lighting: ‘Let the Chalice Connect Us’ by Catherine Callahan (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)
As the chalice is lit let us settle, together,
into the sacred space we have co-created.
Let the cares of the day fall away, for a while,
and know that here is a place for quiet reflection,
for a pause in our lives, for breathing into our true selves.
Let what is said and felt here add richness to our lives
and call us back to living by the values we share.
We are stronger together, held in community.
We share the experience of being human.
Let the symbol of the chalice connect us,
to each other and to our common purpose,
so we may carry its light and warmth into the world.
Hymn 43 (purple): ‘Gather the Spirit’
Let’s sing together. Our first hymn is number 43 in the purple hymnbook, ‘Gather the Spirit’. 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.
Gather the spirit, harvest the power.
Our separate fires will kindle one flame.
Witness the mystery of this hour.
Our trials in this light appear all the same.
Gather in peace, gather in thanks.
Gather in sympathy now and then.
Gather in hope, compassion and strength.
Gather to celebrate once again.
Gather the spirit of heart and mind.
Seeds for the sowing are laid in store.
Nurtured in love and conscience refined,
with body and spirit united once more.
Gather in peace, gather in thanks.
Gather in sympathy now and then.
Gather in hope, compassion and strength.
Gather to celebrate once again.
Gather the spirit growing in all,
drawn by the moon and fed by the sun.
Winter to spring, and summer to fall,
the chorus of life resounding as one.
Gather in peace, gather in thanks.
Gather in sympathy now and then.
Gather in hope, compassion and strength.
Gather to celebrate once again.
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 some 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)
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, ancestor of the stars and the sun,
you who embrace the vastness of space and us along with it, be with us today.
Hold us in our daily trials; our worry, our weariness, our grief.
Keep us close as we sit with our truth, whatever that may be.
Lead us to rest in the quiet, to find solace and renewal,
this day as we reflect on the changing seasons of our lives.
You whose arms open with the spinning galaxies,
help us to make room, as you do, for all that is.
Open our hearts to our loved ones, our neighbours,
the beings with whom we share this planet.
Lead us to reach out to others in compassion.
Turn us toward one another in mercy,
right relationship, and reconciliation.
You who have seen the rising and setting of suns,
of seasons, of civilizations, remind us of all that we have learned
from the history of the world and from our own histories.
Give us the courage to face our mistakes, and to repair them whenever possible.
Help us understand our interdependence, our relatedness
with all of the other spinning lives around us,
and lead us to treat those relationships with care.
In this space, filled with souls who shine like stars,
this space filled with the soft sparkle of love and care,
we give thanks for this moment we have to be together.
May our senses be open to the beauty of this day, this season, this world.
The beauty that endures and which may lift our hearts,
if only we are able to notice it, to give it our attention. (short 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 24 (purple): ‘Come, Sing a Song with Me’
Our next hymn is a lovely one which I don’t think we’ve sung for a while. It had an outing at summer school which put it back into my mind. It’s number 24, ‘Come, Sing a Song with Me’.
Come, sing a song with me,
come, sing a song with me,
come, sing a song with me,
that I might know your mind.
And I’ll bring you hope when hope is hard to find,
and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.
Come, dream a dream with me,
come, dream a dream with me,
come, dream a dream with me,
that I might know your mind.
And I’ll bring you hope when hope is hard to find,
and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.
Come, walk in rain with me,
come, walk in rain with me,
come, walk in rain with me,
that I might know your mind.
And I’ll bring you hope when hope is hard to find,
and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.
Come, share a rose with me,
come, share a rose with me,
come, share a rose with me,
that I might know your mind.
And I’ll bring you hope when hope is hard to find,
and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.
In-Person Reading: ‘Writing Letters: A Spiritual Practice’ by Rochelle Bourgault (excerpts, adapted) (read by Brian)
Looking for a new practice to calm the mind and connect with others? Try writing an old-fashioned letter. We were all letter writers once. We were written to. We had postage stamps, notebooks or stationery sets, pens or pencils, and an address book kept at a writing desk. These objects made a readiness kit for reaching out and updating friends and family.
What would it be like to take 30 minutes of your week (or even your month) to write a letter to someone you miss? An old-fashioned letter on paper, with a writing implement, looking down at blank paper instead of up at a screen. Erasing or drawing a line through words that did not come out right; inserting with an arrow or as asterisk afterthoughts or amendments. Signing your name. Sketching, if that’s your thing. Folding the paper. Procuring an envelope … or better, creating one yourself from paper and tape. Finding a stamp—you must have stamps somewhere, right? Mailing the letter. Then not expecting or craving an immediate response.
The act of writing with pen and paper is inherently mindful: no delete key, no keyboard shortcuts to relocate text. What do you want to say, to whom, and how? And there are no links to follow or apps to scroll through, much fewer distractions. A key essence of letter writing dovetails with a spiritual or contemplative practice: the repetition of the mundane act, the reverence for the method (and affection for the recipient), and detachment from results.
For every letter you write, you are not filling that time with a thousand flickering moments of distraction. Every letter you send will be received by someone who will understand in a heartbeat you have been thinking of them. The person who savours your letter may not respond, or not for a while, which means the act itself becomes an offering: an offering of time, attention, affection, humour, memories, or a reminder of a shared life.
Each letter you send and receive is a tactile object, a talisman for and proof of relationship. Letters are held close, unfolded, read, studied, reread, stored, rediscovered. I can still conjure my oldest friends’ handwriting because of this material past. How many people’s handwriting can you recognize at a glance?
For generations, family members, luminaries, world leaders, and the notorious left troves of letters for us to reflect on to understand them. How will our children, grandchildren, and beyond understand the details of our lives? While I don’t imagine my children one day reading through a server’s worth of my email. I do hope they will treasure my cards and letters.
Meditation: ‘How to Stay Connected During a Pandemic’ by Nina Bennett
Thanks Brian. We’re moving into a time of meditation. To take us into a time of silence, I’m going to share a poem by Nina Bennett, which I guess was written a few years ago in the thick of lockdown – it’s titled ‘How to Stay Connected During a Pandemic’ – and I just want to add a personal disclaimer: this poem opens with the words ‘Forget Zoom’. Anyone who knows me will know I do not endorse this sentiment! Zoom has been a Godsend to so many of us and I will never forget Zoom! But this poem is of course encouraging us to embrace the particular joys of writing letters as an alternative mode of connection with its own special pleasures. After the poem 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 – the words are an offering, use this time to meditate in your own way.
‘How to Stay Connected During a Pandemic’ by Nina Bennett
Forget Zoom. Order coloured pens, note cards,
stickers. Wait three weeks to hear a thud
as the package is tossed on your stoop. Select
a pen, fuchsia or teal, begin. Find a pithy
upbeat quote, copy it on the card with butterflies
migrating across the front. Write with calligraphy
you taught yourself while awaiting your order.
Push beyond I miss you. Try I remember
the day we met for happy hour, and you sang
Maxwell’s Silver Hammer along with the jukebox.
Include praise—I hear your voice, true as a mountain
stream—and an affirmation—Thoughts of getting together
sustain me. Close with a wish. This can be simple,
such as I wish we lived closer. Dig through desk
drawers for a stamp, and as you place the letter
in your mailbox, picture your best friend trudging
through snow to her mailbox.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell DING
Interlude: Der Mond Kommt Still Gegangen – Clara Schumann (performed by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)
In-Person Reflection: ’43 Years of Letters’ by Carolyn Appleby (read by Juliet)
I had a friend called Nigel from 1976 to 2020 until, aged 68, he was one of the first I heard of to die of Covid. Originally Nigel and I were boyfriend and girlfriend in an innocent kind of way. In 1977 he moved away from Guildford in Surrey, where I met him, studying law, where I was doing my training to be a state registered nurse. It was him who suggested that we subsequently write to each other. I was in fact used to corresponding with friends over the course of my attending different schools around the country as I grew up. This was way, way before the introduction of the internet.
In the early days of Nigel’s career, as a solicitor for the defence representing a client in the Magistrates Court, he had an epileptic fit there when he was on duty. He felt very embarrassed about it afterwards. I don’t remember what I wrote but he found it particularly sympathetic and helpful. I felt I had received it as a blessing to pass on and that my knowledge as a nurse had helped me know what to say. It certainly brought us closer.
So Nigel and I exchanged handwritten letters for a total of 43 years, including a gap I shall tell you about. Many of our letters were kept by both of us and some of mine were returned to me after his death. I was touched to hear that they had been found in his bedside drawer.
Nigel very much enjoyed lovely fountain pens and notepaper, which later on he bought for me to use too, and even envelopes, which I felt was rather uncomfortably controlling, though I did honour his wishes. By then we’d been on holiday together in a house he had rented at the edge of Cornwall, literally within sight of Land’s End, but it didn’t fall into the sea.
Nigel wrote very descriptive letters. He had been sent to boarding school as a young boy for 10 years. He came from an emotionally repressed household, an only son, who got close to his mother once she was widowed. Nigel was very much a gentleman and over many years made his house and garden luxurious, comfortable and beautiful. He told me all about what he was doing to it in his letters. I could see the difference between my visits in 1985 and 2014! Once he settled down in life, he lived and practised as a solicitor in Lincoln, with his mother living in the parallel road to his house. When he retired, aged 60, he carried on living there and made a good life as a guide at both the castle and the cathedral and as a researcher for the local historical society. He wrote a book or two for them.
Going back to 1985, when I was 30, our relationship hotted up a bit. I started seeing him more often and we were quite amorous sometimes. My thoughts were often swirling around marriage but Nigel wasn’t the marrying kind. In fact, the following year, I fell in love with the one and only man I married. That was in 1987.
Then – after I married Martyn – Nigel, forever the gentleman, (perhaps a bruised one then though he never said so) – Nigel backed off. Ten years passed, apart from one visit from my friend in 1989 or 1990, with our letters tailing off after he came to see me (when my M.E. had started to severely disable me and drastically change my life).
Our correspondence was to rekindle. One evening after my divorce from Martyn in 1997 or so I rang Nigel out of the blue knowing that he had always preferred letters but not knowing if he still lived there. His dear mother had recently died. So we picked up our correspondence again and the Cornish holiday came after that. I expect I could tell you more about Nigel but I must draw this to a close except to tell you that he left me a small legacy in his will.
However, there is one more thing I wish to say in relation to the sending of cards. I had started to send only E-cards when my friend Irene mentioned that she likes choosing and sending actual paper cards and how rare and lovely it is to get them in the post so I have taken this up too and if I know your address and I can find them in a shop I send postcards when I’m on my many trips away too.
Sharing our Stories of Significant Letters:
Thanks Juliet for reading Carolyn’s reflection (and thanks Carolyn for sending it in). And I’d like to echo her encouragement to send cards and letters (and even long-form letters-via-email – as much as the physical handwritten letters have beauty and romance – that written correspondence) so I’ve laid out some notelets on the table to encourage you to get started. Please do take one. As Lois Wyse has said: ‘A letter is never ill-timed; it never interrupts. Instead it waits for us to find the opportune minute, the quiet moment to savour the message. There is an element of timelessness about letter writing.’
So we have about ten minutes now to share our own brief reflections and experiences on significant letters we’ve sent and received – or perhaps that we wish we’d sent or would like to send.
I invite anyone who wants to join in to come up to the mic in turn – please come up to the lectern this time – and we’ll do it like our joys and concerns, except we are going to try and mix and mingle in-person and online, people online can chip in as you’d like, unmute and speak up when you’re ready.
As always there’s a balance to be struck; I’m not sure how many people will want to join in, and I don’t want to inhibit anyone’s sharing, but do bear in mind how long you’re speaking for so that everyone who wants to join in can get a chance to do so. Just to let you know this will be default stay in the service recording; if you want to be edited out let me know straight after the service as I’ll edit the video later this afternoon. And as with everything else it’s an invitation not an obligation.
(people come up and speak out – if nobody from online joins in say ‘anyone from on zoom?’)
If everyone who wants to speak has spoken – thank you for your contributions – it’s good to share our stories about the things that matter most to each of us – it’s another way to build connection. (pause)
Hymn 208 (purple): ‘When Our Heart is in a Holy Place’
Time for our last hymn now, it’s number 208 in the purple book, ‘When Our Heart is in a Holy Place’.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we trust the wisdom in each of us,
ev’ry colour, ev’ry creed and kind,
and we see our faces in each other’s eyes,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we tell our story from deep inside,
and we listen with a loving mind,
and we hear our voice in each other’s words,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we share the silence of sacred space,
and the God of our heart stirs within,
and we feel the power of each other’s faith,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting. Thanks to Shair for co-hosting. If you’re joining on Zoom please do hang on after the service for a chat with Shari, and if you’re a regular online attender who might be able to help out with co-hosting once in a while do let Shari know. Thanks to Brian and Juliet for reading. Thanks to Holly and Andrew for playing for us today. Thanks to Juliet for greeting and Liz for making coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – please do stay for a cuppa and some experimental nutty rhubarb cake – that’ll be served in the hall next door.
Do hang around this afternoon: we’ve got Many Voices back here to sing from 1pm, that’s free of charge for congregation members, £10 to visitors. Led by Tati and Gaynor it’s always fun. The poetry group with Brian is back this Wednesday, let him know if you’re planning to come along.
Next Sunday you can stay all afternoon, we’ve got Community Yoga with Hannah followed by a Tea Dance with Rachel in aid of Say it Loud Club UK, I’d be really glad of support with that, whether it’s joining in with the dancing or helping to serve refreshments. Let me know.
The week after, on 15th September, we’ve got our ‘Gathering of the Waters’ service, followed by a bring-and-share lunch coordinated by Juliet. Let her know what you plan to bring.
We’ve got an online ‘Heart & Soul’ Contemplative Spiritual Gathering online tonight and Friday at 7pm and our theme this week is ‘Wow!’ We gather for sharing and prayer and it is a great way to get to know others on a deeper level. Sign up with me if you’d like the link.
Our Community Singing group will restart in September so please put 11th Sept in your diary.
The next meeting of the ‘Better World Book Club’ will be on ‘Project Unlonely’ by Jeremy Nobel. If you want to borrow one of our library copies I’ve got three up for grabs. The next meeting is on Sunday 22nd September at 7.30pm. I’ve just released the list of titles for the next six months so I encourage you to pick up a leaflet and put the dates in your diary.
Next Sunday we’ll be back at 11am and I have no idea what the service will be about yet!
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 Cynthia Landrum
We leave this gathered community,
But we don’t leave our connection,
Our concerns, our care for each other.
Our service to each other, to the world,
and to the promptings of our faith, continues.
So until we are together again, friends,
Be strong, be well, be true, be loving,
and nurture Goodness wherever you go.
May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.
Closing Music: Menuetto e Trio from Serenade in B-flat, K. 361 – W. A. Mozart (performed by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
1st September 2024
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