Sunday Service, 16 February 2025
Led by Dr. Lizzie Kingston-Harrison and Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Pièce dans le style ancien - René de Boisdeffre (played by Benjie del Rosario and Andrew Robinson)
Opening Words: ‘This Place’ by Cliff Reed (freely adapted)
This community is a fellowship of the progressive path –
open-minded, open-hearted – at least, that’s our aspiration.
This is a place to share insights and ideas,
a place to foster faith and sometimes find joy,
a place where we can be ourselves, and let others do the same;
a place where we can be real about our untidy lives
and bring our confusion, our pain, our despair.
This is a place for the whole of life’s experience,
as messy as that may be; a place for healing and solace;
for solidarity and hope; for encouragement and nurture;
a place to face this life – in all its complex shadings – together. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words, adapted from some by Cliff Reed, welcome all who have gathered this 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 I’m delighted to welcome my chum Lizzie Kingston-Harrison to co-lead our service. Lizzie’s home congregation is in Framlingham, Suffolk – she serves as Congregational Connections Lead with our national Unitarian organisation, the General Assembly, and she’s also training for ministry. She’s got a lot going on and we’re really lucky to have her joining us here in Kensington.
The title of today’s service is ‘We Contain Multitudes’ – I’m sure many of you will recognise the nod to Walt Whitman’s famous saying – and we’ll hear a bit more from him later on. And we’ll be exploring this helpful notion that each of us is made up of many parts. These words from Fernando Pessoa, which are on the front of today’s order of service, hint at what’s to come: ‘To be great, be whole; don’t exaggerate or leave out any part of you / be complete in each thing / put all you are into the least of your acts / so too, in each lake, with its lofty life, the whole moon shines.’
Chalice Lighting: ‘The Tradition that Holds Us’ by Jane Blackall
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 as a reminder of the tradition that holds us,
and the values and aspirations we share as a community:
our commitment to the common good,
our search for truth and meaning,
our care for those who are downtrodden,
and our yearning for a better world that’s yet to be,
where all may know true freedom, justice, equality, and peace.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘When We Gather Here to Worship’
Let’s sing together. Our first hymn this morning is on your hymn sheet: ‘When We Gather Here to Worship’. It’s to a well-known tune. 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.
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 Elizabeth Bukey
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on words we use quite often, by Elizabeth Bukey. 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 gather in reverence and thanks for You,
Ground of our Being, Source of all Good.
We are grateful for the gift of another breath,
and for each moment of connection, beauty, and truth.
Cry with us in our pain for our world.
Remind us that we are loved, just as we are.
Remind us that we are connected with all that is.
Remind us that we do not journey alone.
Give us what we need for today.
Call us back to our promises, commitments, and values.
Help us love ourselves and each other,
And to show that love in our actions.
Make us instruments of justice, equity, and compassion.
Free us from all that is evil; keep us from wrong.
We declare that life and love are stronger than tyranny and fear,
That a world of beauty and love is coming,
And we must shape it together. (pause)
And let us take a few quiet moments now to look inward, to get in touch with what’s real,
what is going on beneath the surface of our lives this morning. Let us notice what we’re carrying.
What troubles us. What questions or uncertainties we are faced with. What hopes we nurture. (pause)
And from that place of realness – silently, inwardly, ask for what you most need – don’t get too hung up on who or what you’re asking – maybe it’s God, maybe you’re casting it out into the Universe. Even if you’re the only one to hear your prayer – be clear on what you need in this moment. (pause)
And let us also be sure to give thanks for what we already have. Let us look back on the week and recall all those moments – large or small – of kindness, generosity, comfort – even moments of joy. Silently, inwardly, take the time to savour those gifts, connect with gratitude, and take in the good. (pause)
And let us turn outwards now, shifting our attention to the world around us, from those who are closest to our heart, to neighbours and strangers, our wider community, stretching ever onward, as we sense our connection to every living being we share this planet with, and hold them all in love. (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 11 (purple): ‘Blessed Spirit of My Life’
Let’s sing again now – our second hymn is a lovely gentle one – number 11 in your purple books: ‘Blessed Spirit of My Life’. Hymn number 11.
Blessed Spirit of my life,
give me strength through stress and strife;
help me live with dignity;
let me know serenity.
Fill me with a vision;
clear my mind of fear and confusion.
When my thoughts flow restlessly,
let peace find a home in me.
Spirit of great mystery,
hear the still, small voice in me.
Help me live my wordless creed
as I comfort those in need.
Fill me with compassion,
be the source of my intuition.
Then when life is done for me,
let love be my legacy.
Reading: Mark 5:1-13
They went across the lake to the region of the Gerasenes. When Jesus got out of the boat, a man with an impure spirit came from the tombs to meet him. This man lived in the tombs, and no one could bind him anymore, not even with a chain. For he had often been chained hand and foot, but he tore the chains apart and broke the irons on his feet. No one was strong enough to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and in the hills he would cry out and cut himself with stones.
When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell on his knees in front of him. He shouted at the top of his voice, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In God’s name don’t torture me!” For Jesus had said to him, “Come out of this man, you impure spirit!”
Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?”
“My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.” And he begged Jesus again and again not to send them out of the area.
A large herd of pigs was feeding on the nearby hillside. The demons begged Jesus, “Send us among the pigs; allow us to go into them.” He gave them permission, and the impure spirits came out and went into the pigs.
Words for Meditation: ‘Song of Myself’ by Walt Whitman (excerpt)
Thanks Lizzie. What are we to make of that reading? We’ll be hearing a bit more about it later on. In the meantime we’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share an excerpt from Walt Whitman’s famous ‘Song of Myself’ from which the well-known saying about containing multitudes is taken. The poem 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 music from Benjie and Andrew for our continued meditation. So let’s 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 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.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loaf and invite my soul,
I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
I am the poet of the body,
And I am the poet of the soul.
I am of the universe,
I am the mother of all,
And I have no beginning, nor end.
The earth is full of me,
And I am a part of it,
I am a common person,
I am the voice of the unknown.
I am a vast, eternal self,
With all the worlds and possibilities in me.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well, then, I contradict myself.
I am large, I contain multitudes.
I celebrate the simple things:
The laughing of the children,
The feeling of the breeze,
The rhythm of the stars.
I am not a mere idea,
I am a living being,
And I have a connection with all that is.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with bell
Interlude: Après un rêve - Gabriel Fauré (played by Benjie del Rosario and Andrew Robinson)
Reflection: ‘We Contain Multitudes’ by Dr. Lizzie Kingston-Harrison
I have all sorts of wonderful hobbies, I hope you do too. I hope you do random things like collecting stag beetles or road-kill taxidermy, reuniting lost mittens, reversing trolling on internet forums (that’s spreading joy instead of misery).
One of the random things I do these days is that I gather things that symbolise or speak to different parts of myself. I have a necklace, a little silver feather, to remind the perfectionist part in me to let go, to drift rather than strive, I am a feather floating on the breath of God.
I have a scallop shell, on my desk – that great symbol of pilgrimage, the pilgrims would ask for food on their journey, just enough for the day, enough to fill the shell and no more. I use it to remind the anxious part of me that I do enough, I have enough, I am enough.
I wrote this talk sitting in my study and looking around I counted see perhaps 30 objects or images or cards that give voice to parts of myself – or they somehow soothe or ground those parts of me. I don’t what it’s like for you, but my gut instinct is that you know what I mean, the idea that we are a patchwork of selves.
I wonder if there is a part of you that is grown-up, mature, in control and managing the whole system. I wonder if there is a part of you that sits, anxiously, waiting for things to go wrong. Do you have an inner child? Is she in there playing happily, finding joy in every-day moments where you let yourself play, or perhaps she’s feeling sad, or lost, or confused and unheard. This talk is a reminder that you contain multitudes, and that understanding ourselves is accepting that we are greater than the sum of our parts, that listening to those parts of ourselves and speaking kindly back is a way to healing and wholeness. I do enough, I have enough, I am enough. That feels like a gentle and kind way to speak to the part of myself that feels so inadequate.
I do this through externalising those parts, with specific images, or objects – maybe you do too, consciously or not, or maybe you talk to those parts, I hope you talk kindly. I hope you say ‘well done, I’m proud of you, that was hard and you did it anyway’. ‘you don’t need to worry, just do your best’ ‘have a rest first, before you do your work.’ I know though, that sometimes you’re not so kind and that sometimes those parts of you also have difficult, maybe even mean voices when they speak to you - they’re trying to get your attention, because they are in pain or they think it’s a way of protecting you… and sometimes they do that in ways that are challenging. Our name is legion, for we are many. And right there, is the depth of joy and the pain, the light and the darkness of this being human.
One of the awesome things about being Unitarian is that when we talk about unity, we don’t mean sameness we mean integration. We like to use the word ‘gathering’ rather than maybe ‘group’ or ‘meeting’ or ‘congregation.’ And we mean it literally, we pull together disparate strands, or pick up scattered folks and gather them, put us all together in a basket. That’s why we don’t have a creed, we don’t need to think alike to love alike. We bring our wonderful, unique selves and it is in the integration of difference and in the listening to each other that we gather, we become whole as a community.
Wholeness isn’t about being one thing all the time – not in actual community or the community of the self. Always fine, aways happy, always perfect, always healed. Why not contradict yourself? Enjoy doing so. You are large. You contain multitudes You are lost and found, you are achingly lonely and full of love and connection, you are productive and successful and confused and ‘lazy’ and doubting, you are a strong adult and a vulnerable child. It’s about all of you showing up for yourself, all of you taking part in the process, the movement of integration, of gathering.
To be great, be whole, so too in every lofty lake the whole moon shines.
I happen to be someone who externalises to internalise - I think I need a picture of the moon, or a necklace perhaps, to remind me of those words. I wonder what you need to do to hear the parts of yourself. I have a friend who has actual meetings, he sits quietly and in the still silence of the self he taps into those parts of himself that need to be heard.
The thing is, if you don’t do that, if you don’t listen to the most lost or orphaned parts of yourself, they have a habit of finding other ways to communicate. They jump out anyway, have you ever fallen out with someone and then realised they represent a hidden part of yourself, you’re arguing with yourself and not them. Or projecting something onto them, they become an external version of a question that you are asking yourself.
***
I’m not a magical thinker, I use God-language and have my mystical moments, but I tend to the rational. Which is why people are surprised that another of my weird and wonderful hobbies is that I use tarot cards. Not to predict the future because the future is there for us to shape. Not to tap into a spirit world, because spirituality for me is about consciousness and inner vibrancy. There are 22 cards that represent archetypal parts of the self. At different times, in different ways I am the fool, I am the empress and the emperor, I am the hierophant, the star, the tower and the sun. I pick up the cards at random and use them to hear those parts of myself.
I love that ultimately, whether we are meeting ourselves or meeting each in community, in gathering, it’s the same thing, these representations of the elemental things we need and do, these high selves and shadow selves we see in others and in our turn, in ourselves. The cards remind me that the parts of the self are also held at a collective level, between us all and that different people at different times and in different roles represent these parts too. The inner and the outer are therefore one.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
***
The bible reading I shared comes from Mark and it’s midway through a series of teachings and parables that should perhaps be taken together, integrated themselves. That’s what a parable is, right, a parabola, a great arc that points us in the direction of something, and there we are looking up, watching it arc over us, finding our own meaning.
Earlier in Mark’s gospel, we are invited to imagine that the Kingdom of Heaven is a mustard seed, this tiny but mighty power-packed experience of connection with the divine that growths within. You can imagine Jesus teaching this - holding it up, and hopefully you can imagine it representing the part of you that yearns for transcendent meaning, unity with the God of our understanding. And Jesus representing the part of us that points the way, the way and the truth and the life.
The next chapter is about an awful storm, and how many of us have had such storms – I know I have, and the apostles are terrified, and Jesus calms the waters…pause and when they arrive on the shore of the Lake, they find a man, a person in such pain. So much suffering, I really feel for him, living amongst the graves, confused and lost, hurting himself, ashamed, and perhaps you know what it feels like to be in that kind of pain. And yet in the midst of that pain, perhaps there has been a part of you, a loving and transformative part that has seen and named your pain. Remember Jesus names the demons, in Jewish culture to exorcise demons you had to name them, to see them, to bring them into the light. It is so hard to do this, to name those parts of you that call out to you in pain. It’s much easier to bury them, but we know from this story, that this multitude of suffering parts is hurting the man so much that he cannot eat or wear clothes of live with others.
No one wants to be exiled, but the exiling in this story, this story is not the casting out of the demons, it was the burying of them that the suffering man had done way before he met Jesus. The healing is in the naming, the bringing up of these parts into the light, the naming of the shadows of the self, even when they squirm and resist and scream and beg to be left alone, that is where is the healing in this story is.
And I don’t know or understand Jewish culture enough to stretch this analogy too far, but I do know that we are the mustard seed, and Jesus, the suffering man and his pain and the demons and even the pigs. No one is cast out of the area, they beg to stay and they do, in the water that just verses before was a symbol of calmed suffering. This is difficult work; the story goes on to say how the people moaned about Jesus and felt he was trouble and wished he’d never sailed over the stormy lake to their homeland. And I know how unfair it has felt and how much grumbling I do when parts of me that are causing me pain need tending and naming sometimes. But this is life, this is the work, the wholeness and the integration.
Pause
Another one of my recent and lesser-known pastimes is collecting stories about people who have had personality changes after heart transplants. One that I love is about a young woman of 19 who loved dancing and who wanted to be a doctor. She died dancing and her heart went to another woman of the same age.
This is what her recipient said:
"I think of her as my sister. I only know my donor was a girl my age, but it's more that that. I talk to her at night or when I'm sad. I feel her answering me. I can feel it in my chest. I put my left hand there and press it with my right. It's like I can connect with her. Sometimes she seems sad. I think she wanted to be a nurse or something, but other times it's like she wanted to be on Broadway. I think she wanted to be on Broadway more. I want to be a nurse, but I could be a doctor too. I hope she will be happy, because she will always be my angel, my sister in my chest. I carry my angel with me everywhere."
Most people don’t experience integration in such a literal way. But we do have a heart- sister to listen to, parts of ourselves that when we touch our hearts, they feel it, and when we listen, they talk. They want to be heard, and my invitation to you, is to hear them, to integration them, what a miracle – you contain multitudes.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘The Church Where Love Lives’
One last hymn – I understand that this one is becoming a bit of a favourite at Essex Church – it’s on your hymn sheet: ‘The Church Where Love Lives’. Andrew will play it through once before we sing.
The church where love lives is a safe place for all
Where we gather in wonder to remember God’s call,
To embody God’s vision of kindness and care
With each song that we sing, with each protest and prayer.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
The church where love lives draws the stranger inside,
Making neighbours of strangers, no neighbour denied,
Till there’s heaven on earth and God’s will has been done,
Till the whole of creation is restored to its home.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
The church where love lives is preparing a feast
For the pained and rejected, for the lost and the least,
For the deeply afraid, for the truly ashamed.
Come and sit at our table. Love has called you by name.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
Announcements:
Thanks so much to Lizzie for leading our service today. Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Roy, David and Patricia for reading. Thanks to Benjie and Andrew for lovely music. 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 Victoria sponge.
Next week Margaret will be here for her regular ‘Find Your Voice’ singing class. And that’ll be followed by a ‘Art Play Crafternoon’ – that’s a relaxed space for us to hang out for a couple of hours and get all the art materials out to play with – we’ll be doing that once a month.
Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week we’re considering the theme of ‘Achievement’. We also have our once-a-month in-person H&S this Wednesday at 7pm – let me know if you’re planning to join us for that – more cake is likely.
This month’s title for the Better World Book Club is ‘Monsters: What Do We Do with Great Art by Bad People’ by Claire Dederer, all our loan copies have gone, but if you really want to come along and are struggling to access the book have a word with me and I’ll see what we can do.
Next Sunday we’ll be back here at 11am when our service will be ‘What Do We Do With Our Pain?’
I should also mention that our spring newsletter is now out – if you’re a member you should have already received one in the post – please do feel free to take a copy and give one to friend. We also have just updated all our flyers for our regular events so please use them to help spread the word.
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 – I’ll invite Lizzie to offer our benediction.
Closing Words: ‘Love After Love’ by Derek Walcott
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
(Amen)
Closing Music: Prelude - Suite from The Victorian Kitchen Garden - Paul Reade (played by Benjie del Rosario and Andrew Robinson)
Dr. Lizzie Kingston-Harrison and Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
16th February 2025