Praying with Poets – 16/10/22
Musical Prelude: ‘Summer Song’ by Margaret Hubicki performed by Abby Lorimier and Sandra Smith
Opening Words: ‘This Hour of Worship’ by Carolyn S. Owen-Towle (adapted)
Let us enter into this hour of worship –
this time and space dedicated to
all that is most worthy in this life,
the depths and the heights of it all –
let us give our undivided attention
to what really matters, just for a while.
Come, bringing all of who you are –
all your busy thoughts and big emotions,
your complications and your contradictions –
rest and quiet your week-worn spirit, for you are here
to touch again eternal springs of hope and renewal.
Calm your hurried, harried, pace –
and claim this precious chance to find perspective –
for this hour let the cares, the fretfulness and worry be set aside.
Forgive yourself—you are so very worthy of moving on,
of making new efforts, of trying again – it’s a new day.
And know that you are not alone in all this.
There is strength and caring support for you here.
You will find comfort and kindness if you but ask. Look around.
You are a part of this community, if you choose it. And you can make it what you will.
So let us join our hearts together as we enter into this precious hour of worship. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These opening words, loosely adapted from Carolyn S. Owen-Towle, welcome all those who have gathered this day for our Sunday service. Welcome to those of you who have gathered in-person here at Essex Church and also to all who are joining us via Zoom from far and wide. For those who don’t know me, my name is Jane Blackall, and I’m ministry coordinator with Kensington Unitarians.
If it’s your first time joining us this morning, we’re glad you found us, thank you for coming to visit. Perhaps you might like to hang around for a chat after the service, drop us an email to say hello, or come to one of our small groups to get to know us better. And whether it is your first time here or your thousandth (I think it is technically possible that some of us have clocked up over 1000 services) I hope each and every one of you finds something of what you need in our gathering today. Whoever you are, however you are, wherever you are, know you are welcome with us, exactly as you are.
Today’s service is titled ‘Praying with Poets’. Prayer is a perennial subject to explore at church – we pray together every week of course – but at least once a year we take some time on a Sunday to reflect on what we’re doing, and how, and why – and this time we’re doing it with the help of some poems which shine a light on the contemplative aspects of prayer – the listening side more than the speaking.
But before we go any further take a moment now to settle ourselves – wherever we may be – and to consecrate this time and space with our presence and intention. Maybe there’s something you can do with your body to let go of any tension you’re carrying – scrunch and release your hands or your shoulders perhaps – and let’s stop and take one conscious breath. Breathe in. And as we breathe out let us release anything that is stopping us from truly being here now – any nagging preoccupations or distractions we are carrying – let’s see if we can lay them aside for an hour or so.
Chalice Lighting: ‘For Faith, Hope, and Love’
Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. 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 we are a 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,
and our yearning for a better world that’s yet to be,
where all may know true freedom, justice, equality, and peace.
May this small flame be for us a sign of faith, hope, and love.
Hymn 194 (SYF): ‘We Light the Flame’
Let’s sing together now. We’re experimenting with a three-hymn regime now! Our first hymn is, appropriately, titled ‘We Light the Flame’. For those present at the church in-person it’s number 194 in your purple book and for those joining via Zoom they’ll be up on your screen to sing along at home. Please feel free to stand or sit, as you prefer, as we sing: ‘We Light the Flame’.
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, 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. This time we’re going to go to the people in the building first, and take all of those in one go, and then I’ll call on the people on Zoom to come forward.
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 – do use the microphone so everyone can hear you and get nice and close in so it picks you up properly – I’ll switch that on in a moment. We’re asking people to keep their masks on for this candle lighting, but please do speak up, and GET REALLY CLOSE to the microphone, so that everyone can hear what you’re saying.
(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 Miklós Székely
And let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer now. This prayer is based on some quite traditional, comforting, words by Miklós Székely. (mik-lowsh say-kye)
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)
Be with us each new day as we wake, O God.
Let us know the comfort of your presence
and the revitalising power of your calling.
Whatever we have to face, be it joy or sorrow,
give us strength to carry through the new day.
Give us to know that when we arise in the morning
we must give thanks for the morning light,
for life and strength, for we are still here.
We must give thanks for the gifts of living;
our food and our friends and so many small joys,
which might go unappreciated in the struggle of our days.
Give us hope – in doing your will – in aligning ourselves
with the promptings of peace, justice, and love.
May the warmth of the fellowship we share here
stay with us through this coming week and all it brings.
May we draw strength from the faith we hold and this
beloved community we are an indispensable part of.
May we show our faith by extending our compassion and care
to those we find challenging and those we struggle to understand.
May we find strength in humility, courage in adversity,
joy in diversity, and a true sense of purpose in our prayers.
And so, in the coming week, may our ears and eyes be open to
tidings of joy and gladness, to hints of new possibility.
O God of All Love and Mercy, bless and prosper the work of our hands,
for our life, and for the larger life, as you would see it,
the realm of love that is yet to come. (pause)
In a few moments of silence and stillness now, let us call to mind
those sufferings and struggles that weigh heavy on our hearts this day –
whether they be our own personal troubles or the issues we are aware of in the wider world –
and let us hold them gently in the light of love; that larger love that holds all. (pause)
In a further time of silence and stillness now, let us call to mind
some of the many gifts we have been given in the week just passed –
those little moments that have lifted our spirits or brought us comfort –
and inwardly treasure these blessings, be they large or small, with gratitude. (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 (on sheet): ‘Prayer for Strength’
Let’s sing together now. Our next hymn is ‘Prayer for Strength’. The words speak of life’s inevitable struggles and express a prayer for the strength and courage we need to endure whatever we may face. This is one we hardly ever sing and I wasn’t too sure about the tune in the hymn book so I’ve switched to one that might be slightly more familiar, at least to those of us who sang hymns at school, but still I’m going to ask Sandra and Abby to play it through once in full before we sing. For those of you present at the church in-person you’ll find the words on your hymn sheet and for those joining via Zoom they’ll be up on your screen to sing along at home. Please feel free to stand or sit, as you prefer, as we sing: ‘Prayer for Strength’.
Hear, O God, the prayer we offer:
Not for ease that prayer shall be,
But for strength that we may ever
Live our lives courageously.
Not for ever in green pastures
Do we ask our way to be;
But by steep and rugged pathways
Would we strive to climb to thee.
Not for ever by still waters
Would we idly quiet stay;
But would win the living fountains
From the rocks along our way.
Be our strength in hours of weakness,
In our wanderings, be our guide;
Through endeavour, failure, danger,
Be thou ever at our side.
In-Person Reading: ‘Disclosure’ by Ann Lewin (read by Chloë Harewood)
Prayer is like watching for the
Kingfisher. All you can do is
Be where he is likely to appear, and
Wait.
Often, nothing much happens;
There is space, silence, and
Expectancy.
No visible sign, only the
Knowledge that he’s been there,
And may come again.
Seeing or not seeing cease to matter,
You have been prepared.
But sometimes, when you’ve almost
Stopped expecting it,
A flash of brightness
Gives encouragement.
Preface to ‘Watching for the Kingfisher’ by Ann Lewin
This poem by Ann Lewin features in a book titled ‘Waiting for the Kingfisher’. The following piece is her preface to the book.
The title of this book – ‘Waiting for the Kingfisher’ – describes two related activities: birdwatching and prayer.
I began to make the connection through the experience of not seeing a kingfisher. Everyone else staying in the house where I was a guest saw it, but I, the self-confessed birdwatcher, didn’t. It was frustrating, to say the least! But one morning, when I was haunting the lake unsuccessfully yet again, I realised that I was being told something about prayer, and the poem ‘Disclosure’, from which the title comes, was the result.
Prayer, the expression of our desire for God and our relationship with God, is not something we control, it is what we are drawn to. It is the practice of being there, ready to receive God’s gift of Godself, not being put off if nothing much seems to be going on, or if conditions seem to be distinctly unfavourable, but waiting, alert, and expectant.
Birdwatchers are in a sense contemplatives. They spend quite a lot of time waiting. They learn about times and seasons and habitats; they provide themselves with warm clothing and wet-weather gear so that they don’t just give up when the weather is challenging; they acquire equipment to help them focus and identify what they are looking at. Sometimes watchers are rewarded with the sight of a rare bird, mostly they have to be content with more common species, but always they learn something. One of the first things they learn is that birds have their own lives, and don’t appear just because we want them to: sometimes when watchers go out they see practically nothing, and sometimes they see birds they don’t expect.
Birds are always around – we have to get into the habit of keeping our eyes open so that we notice them. We have to be ready to meet God in unlikely places too, as well as obvious ones. God’s coming, like the arrival of a kingfisher, is always gift. And because God’s habitat is the whole of creation, not just the church, our experience and circumstances – as well as the more focused times of prayer and worship – are where God comes to us.
Words for Meditation: ‘Praying’ by Mary Oliver
Thanks, Chloë. We’ve come now to a time of meditation. Our words for meditation today will be a very short poem by Mary Oliver which offers another suggestion of what prayer might be. I’m going to read it twice through. See what it evokes in you. These words will take us into silence which will end with the sound of a bell. And then we’ll hear some meditative music from Sandra and Abby. 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 and music are just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
‘Praying’ by Mary Oliver
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Musical Interlude: Bach’s C Major Sarabande performed by Abby Lorimier
Reflection: ‘Praying with Poets’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Prayer is a subject we come round to periodically at church – and that’s as it should be – prayer is a core part of what we do together as a religious community and, as such, it’s important to reflect on what it is we’re doing (or not doing), and the hows and whys of it too. Also, prayer is such a big topic, and such a varied practice, that it’s good to come back and approach it from different angles from time to time. So, with the help of a few distinguished poets, I’m just going to add a few thoughts to the ongoing exploration of prayer this morning.
I found a short quote on poetry and prayer which might be a helpful place to start. An abridged version of these words is on the front of the order of service, for those in the church building, and as always the full text is on the website for those joining in from home. The quote is by Melannie Svoboda, a writer, retreat leader, and nun, who says: ‘Poetry is a lot like prayer. Prayer is a lot like poetry. First, they both arise from a deep attentiveness to life — whether to a rose, a grain of sand, a baby’s laugh, a particular hurt, an interior joy or dread. Both poetry and prayer tend to displace the logical and rational in favour of metaphor and feeling. They both have the uncanny ability to put us into the presence of the universal and eternal, thus connecting us with others, with nature, and with the entire world.’
Let’s keep those words in mind. But before we get to the poets and what they can teach us, I want to recap just a few basic premises about prayer, some things we’ve looked at before. What is that we think we’re doing when we pray? The purpose of prayer might be understood in various ways. For some of us here, and perhaps for most of those people who pray and have ever prayed around the world, it might be simply put as ‘speaking and listening to God’. To pray is to cultivate some kind of relationship with God, however we understand ‘God’, and as is the case with many relationships in our lives, perhaps, communication comes before understanding, and we grasp towards understanding through communication. We set out in prayer, out of instinct and need, before we have any sort of organised theology (indeed we might never come to any definitive theological conclusions about who is ‘on the other end’ of our prayers – but we pray anyway). If the God-language doesn’t work for you there are other ways of understanding prayer. I’m very fond of the what the UU minister Vanessa Rush Southern says: prayer is about ‘putting our hearts in the right place’. Now what you understand by ‘in the right place’ is another thing but perhaps it’s something like ‘getting back in touch with our highest values and recalling a sense of perspective about our place in the grand scheme of things’. Something like that.
That’s one way of looking at why we pray – the purpose of prayer – but it’s the slightly sanitised and theoretical version, in a way. We pray – actually, let me speak for myself, rather than make too many assumptions about anyone else – I pray, more often than not, because I am in need, and I am crying out to something beyond myself, in sorrow and overwhelm at life’s struggles, or in rage at the world’s injustice and my apparent inability to bring change, or (just sometimes…) because I’m bubbling with joy at some beauty or goodness or righting-of-wrongs I’ve witnessed. For me, the prayers come before the theory, and when life is hard (as it is for so many right now) we might find ourselves saying a spontaneous prayer as we wake each day that’s really simple and direct, just to help us get out of bed, like ‘God, help me face the coming day and all it brings’. Or before a tricky meeting or challenging task we might pray ‘God, help me to be clear and kind’, or ‘God, help me to be my best self, and use the gifts I’ve been given for the greater good of all.’
There are various ways we can pray – collectively and individually – in a regular, disciplined, practice or spontaneously (out or our need, our pain, or our joy) as we go about our days – we can pray with words or in silence – with movement or meditative ritual – there are so many ways to go about it.
Recently I’ve been attending a refresher course on prayer with the London Jesuit Centre and last week the course leaders reminded us of one particular model of the major strands of prayer. This model more-or-less follows a pattern I’ve heard mainstream Christians talk about before – it’s based on the acrostic ACTS – A, C, T, S – where (A) is Adoration; (C) is Confession; (T) is Thanksgiving; and (S) is Supplication. In brief, and slightly translated for Unitarian sensibilities: Adoration involves praising God, naming God and God’s attributes, or in some way orientating ourselves as we pray to that which is of greatest worth to us, our ultimate concern. Confession involves looking honestly at our lives, and getting perspective on our own actions, in the light of conscience perhaps, and our sense of what it is we think God wants us to be doing in life. Thanksgiving is the easiest to translate as it’s simply prayers of gratitude for all that is good. And finally in this framework we have Supplication, sometimes also known as Petition, which involves asking God for what we want, for ourselves, and for all those we know to be suffering.
Anyone who’s been around this congregation for long will know we can’t have a service on prayer without bringing in Erik Walker Wikstrom. He’s a UU minister who took another angle on this and presented ‘Naming, Knowing, Listening, and Loving’ to us in his book ‘Simply Pray’. And this informs the way we pray together here at church – very overtly in our ‘Heart and Soul’ contemplative spiritual gatherings where we intentionally take time for each of these sorts of prayer in turn – but this model shapes our Sunday prayers too. Wikstrom’s framework arose from a study of comparative religion where he tried to draw out common principles from the prayer practices of different faith traditions around the world and, as such, it’s not surprising that there are parallels with the traditional ‘ACTS’ approach I just mentioned. His ‘Naming’ prayer smushes together the Christian ‘adoration’ and ‘thanksgiving’; in ‘Naming’ we name both who or what we are praying to as we set out in prayer with the gathering words. Here we often say something like ‘Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being…’ These are words that help bring us into a prayerful space and which hopefully help to reconnect and align us with who and what we each think we’re praying to. In ‘Naming’ prayer we also practice simple thanksgiving by naming those things we are grateful for. Wikstrom’s ‘Knowing’ prayer is equivalent to ‘confession’; it is a time to reflect on our own lives and take stock of our own action (and inaction) and how well it aligns with our highest values and aspirations and (perhaps) how well it aligns with God’s dream for us and for the world. ‘Loving’ prayer is very roughly equivalent to ‘supplication’ or ‘petition’ in that is a time for bringing compassion and loving-kindness to ourselves, our loved ones, and our world – expressing our hopes and desires for healing and justice and peace – and, yes, asking for what we want and need as we try to muddle through each day. Wikstrom also has ‘Listening’ prayers which don’t exactly have an equivalent in the ’ACTS’ framework but they’re prayers of meditation and contemplation – the spaces we make, often in silence and stillness, to hear the still small voice – and (finally) this brings us around to today’s theme, ‘Praying with Poets’.
Today, I don’t especially want to focus on collective prayers. Today, I want us to think about the praying we do (or might do) when we’re on our own. And particularly, given the challenges I know that many of us are facing in life right now, I’m thinking about the part prayer might play in helping us each to get through the day. Some of you already have a regular prayer practice. Some of you might have a decidedly irregular prayer practice (mine might fall into that category). Some of you might not have a prayer practice at all (you might not see the point of having one).
Of all the poets in the world I’ve only brought two to our service this morning – Ann Lewin and Mary Oliver – of course there are so many poets who have reflected wonderfully on prayer and I bet some of you listening are thinking of your own favourite poems on the theme (please do get in touch if there are some you’d like to share and perhaps we can have a follow-up service). But it seems to me that both Ann Lewin and Mary Oliver call our attention to what I’d call ‘Listening’ prayer – that space of contemplation and meditation – where we go quiet and wait for… what?
In Ann Lewin’s ‘Disclosure’ (and her own commentary in ‘Watching for the Kingfisher’), which Chloë read for us earlier, she makes a metaphorical connection between prayer and birdwatching. To pray, as to watch kingfishers, you have to show up faithfully, be prepared, and wait. And wait. And, as she says, ‘often, nothing much happens’. But we put ourselves into the right space – into the right state of body and mind, wherever we may be – on the metaphorical riverbank with our anorak and thermos – and we pay attention. We focus on what matters. As Lewin says, ‘there is space, silence, and expectancy’. And sometimes there doesn’t seem to be much to show for it, ‘but sometimes, when you’ve almost stopped expecting it, a flash of brightness gives encouragement.’
Mary Oliver points to something similar in her poem on ‘Praying’ we meditated with today: ‘just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate, this isn’t a contest but the doorway into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak.’ All our prayerful words, our praise and thanksgiving, our crying out in search of help, are only one half of the communication, half of the prayer. Without listening it is incomplete. With our presence and intention – which can take many forms – we make a clearing in our busy lives in which (sometimes) we might be able to discern a response to all our asking. For most of us the response to prayer won’t come as a thunderbolt or a burning bush. It’ll be an inkling, an intuition, an inner nudge, perhaps a pattern of meaningful signs over time. A ‘blue iris’. A ‘few small stones’. A ‘flash of brightness’ which ‘gives encouragement’. And if we’re going to notice something so very subtle we need to stop talking and pay attention.
So – if we are to ‘Pray with the Poets’ – I encourage you to make time and space for listening prayer in your daily life. For many of us these contemplative moments don’t arise naturally. Life is demanding: we are pulled this way and that by work, study, or caring responsibilities. These days many of us get sucked in to rage-watching TV news, talk radio, or social media too, a grimly compulsive fixation, which can easily expand to fill all our waking hours. More than ever we need to set aside moments in our days where we can get a bit of perspective and tune in to something beyond the endless cycle of demands on our attention and energy. I encourage you to make a regular date with God – or a date with what matters most in life, if you prefer – even if it’s just five minutes in bed when you first wake up, or in an armchair at the end of the day, or on a daily walk round the block – make a modest but regular slot in the pattern of your days, away from distractions, where you show up prayerfully and pay attention. Easier said than done, for most of us, I know. But let’s see what we can manage. And keep at it.
I want to close with just a few brief words from Sophia Lyon Fahs, a legendary Unitarian educator of the last century, as a reminder of what it is we do when we set out to pray. May we be inspired by her words as we nurture our own prayer lives and make a little space for daily contemplation. She wrote: ‘Many of the past generation and many of today have found three abiding values in prayer: the quiet meditation on life, the reaching out toward the universal and the infinite, and the courageous facing of one’s profoundest wishes.’
May we do likewise, continuing the line of faithful souls, for the greater good of all. Amen.
Hymn 196 (SYF): ‘We Sing the Faith’
Time for our last hymn, ‘We Sing the Faith’, it’s number 196 in the purple hymn book and the words will also be up on screen as usual. Feel free to stand or sit as you feel moved. Let us sing.
We sing the faith, which gives us confidence
for human dwelling in the vast immense
and finding there within the great unknown
that there’s a cosmic law and order shown.
We sing the hope, which shows us there are ways
for living through our very darkest days
and glimpse beyond a path which leads us on
to find the place where new days have begun.
We sing the love, which is creation’s law,
and in a single whole its parts will draw;
and since parts turn and swerve, collide and move,
forgiveness is the final form of love.
Faith, hope and love: we honour each and three
but there’s one virtue which we all agree
stands out among the others far above
and that ‘the greatest of the three is love’.
Sharing of News, Announcements, Introductions
Announcements: Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting. Thanks to Charlotte for co-hosting, to Chloë for reading, Sandra and Abby for playing for us. For those of you who are at church in-person, Liz will be serving coffee, tea and biscuits in the hall after the service, if you want to stay for refreshments – thanks Liz (especially for being a last-minute substitute) – and thanks Patricia for greeting. We are looking for more people to help out with coffee and greeting so that it’s not just the same few people so please speak to Liz if you can volunteer. For those of you who are on Zoom today there will be virtual coffee hosted by Charlotte so do hang around for a chat.
For those at the church in-person today you can stay on and sing with Margaret from noon. These are free, fun, singing classes for everyone, Margaret is a great teacher and will gently coach you to help you gain confidence, that’s today from 12-12.45pm in the church.
We have various small group activities during the week for you to meet up. Coffee morning is online at 10.30am Wednesday. There are still spaces left for our Heart and Soul gatherings (online Sunday/Friday at 7pm) and this week’s theme is ‘Choices’. Our service next Sunday will be hybrid once again and it’ll be led by Patricia and me and it’s titled ‘The World Knows How to Live’. Details of these and all our other events are on the back of the order of service and in the Friday email. Save the dates for the next GreenSpirit gathering and the poetry group on the 1st/2nd November.
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. All this information is also on the back of the order of service and the details were in the Friday email too.
I think that’s everything. Just time for our closing words and closing music now.
Benediction: based on words by Charles A. Howe
And so our gathering ends; may we go forth
thankful for the life that sustains and renews us,
receptive to the grace that surrounds and surprises us,
and attentive to the gifts and possibilities that surround us along the way. Amen.
Closing Music: ‘Serenade’ by William Squire performed by Abby and Sandra
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
16th October 2022
