Start With Why – 04/12/22

Musical Prelude: ‘Ukrainian Folk Melody’ – arr. Paul Harris – played by Benjie del Rosario and Sandra Smith

Opening Words for Advent: ‘A Candle for Peace and Justice’ by Megan Visser (adapted)

This morning marks the second Sunday in the season of Advent.

In the Christian tradition, Advent is the beginning of the church year,
recognizing the transforming power of God in the world;
looking forward toward the birth of Jesus;
and celebrating spiritual light in all its forms;
we know that many traditions have their own festivals of light
in these darkening months as the days get ever shorter.

Each week until Christmas, we light a new candle on the Advent wreath,
and lift up another aspect of the light in life which we are called to celebrate and affirm.
The circle of greenery reminds us of the eternal cycle of all life, without beginning or end.
And the candles remind us that we are each called to emit our glow
amid the pain and suffering facing our world. The light of Advent grows
brighter and brighter guiding us toward personal peace, shared joy, and more love.

Sot this morning we light the second candle in our Advent wreath.
We light this candle as a symbol of our longing for peace and justice.
We bring our hope into the world when we practice everyday
peace-making and lend our efforts to work towards a just world.
Our caring community aspires to be a place of freedom,
a model of inclusion, equality, and sanctuary for all.
May we become the ones “we have been waiting for”.
Together, may we strive to create justice and peace.

(light the first and second advent candles)

Words of Welcome and Introduction:

With the lighting of our advent candles, with words from Megan Visser, we welcome all those who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those of you who have gathered in-person at Essex Church and also to all who are joining us via Zoom from far and wide (including a contingent from Edinburgh Unitarians this morning – a special welcome to you today). Whether it’s your first time with us today, or you’re a regular lurker, or you’re a long-standing member here – we are glad to have you with us – this gathered community has long drawn people from far and wide. If we’ve not previously met, my name is Jane Blackall, ministry coordinator with Kensington Unitarians. Whoever you are, however you are, wherever you are, I hope you find some of what you need here.

Today’s service is (officially) titled ‘Start with Why’. This title is borrowed from a best-selling self-help and leadership manual which is about being an influencer and inspiring people to take action. But, more than that, it’s about the importance of having a sense of purpose – a ‘why’ – which stirs us into action in the first place and which can sustain our motivation when the going gets tough. So in this morning’s service we’re going to apply that line of thinking to our collective sense of purpose as a church – both as a particular congregation and a larger denomination – what is our ‘why’?… In truth, I wanted to call this service ‘Why Are We Here?’, but I admit we had a two-part service series on that topic in 2020, then a five-part summer school on the topic in 2021, which led to a book… but this is not an accident (nor is it a sign that I’ve run out of things to preach about!) It seems to me that any organisation like ours should ask itself that question on a regular basis – at least once a year – we should be asking ‘why are we here?’ – ‘what is our purpose?’ – and reflecting on whether our way of being together and our way of doing church truly reflects that underlying ‘why’.

But before we get into all that let’s take a moment to get settled. We’ve all arrived here – in this hour set apart from all others in the week – we’ve each chosen to come here this morning, to take some time out of the everyday doings of our lives, and all the palaver they might contain. And, as I often say, we make this hour sacred with our presence and intention. So let’s intentionally set aside any of that palaver that we might have come carrying. Let’s shake it off. And take a conscious breath or two.

Chalice Lighting: ‘Our Guiding Principles’ by Jane Blackall

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)

May the light of this chalice be a reminder of the
shared values and principles around which we gather:
upholding the inherent worth and dignity of every person;
cherishing all those diverse creatures and habitats
with whom we share this Earth, our home;
seeking human liberation and flourishing;
serving the common good of all.

May this little light, and all it represents, make a home in our hearts;
where it will ever guide us back to our highest aspirations,
and help us be responsive, creative, just, and loving,
in this complex and ever-changing world.

Hymn 174 (HfL): ‘A Church is a Living Fellowship’

Let’s sing together now. Our first hymn is ‘A Church is a Living Fellowship’. It’s number 174 in the green hymnbook and for those joining via Zoom the words will be up on screen to sing along at home. Please stand or sit as you prefer as we sing: ‘A Church is a Living Fellowship’.

A church is a living fellowship
More than a holy shrine,
Where people can share their hopes and fears
Less of the yours and mine;

Where bonded by trust we search for Truth
Beyond the chains of creeds,
And thought can aspire to shine with fire
From all our deepest needs.

We’ll stretch out the open hand of Love,
Conquer the fists of hate;
Divided no more by voices of war,
Greeds of our mindless state.

We’ll take all our building bricks of Truth,
Make of them homes of light,
A future to face the shame and disgrace
In all our past of strife.

A church is a place of human trust
More than of brick and stone;
Of Love we will sing to make it ring
In every joyous tone.

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. We’re asking people to keep their masks on for this candle lighting – please keep your masks on – if you use the hand-held microphone, get it really close to your mask, and SPEAK UP, people should be able to hear what you’re saying. I really want to emphasise this – the people at home really want to hear what you’re saying – and if you don’t hold the microphone really close they simply can’t hear you. So point it directly at your face and keep it right up against your mask and that should do the trick. 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 Tamara Lebak

And let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer now.
This prayer of purpose is based on some words by the UU minister Tamara Lebak.

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)

On this day when we ponder our ‘why?’
let us remember the blessings of purpose
that we have received throughout our lives:
times when the fire of our soul burned brightly;
those moments of clarity when our direction
felt in line with some greater purpose;
when the doors of opportunity were
easy to see and even easier to open.

We ask this day to have that clarity of Spirit
come forth into our lives once again,
opening the horizons of our hearts and minds
to that inner fire which burns inside us all.

May we be inspired this day to sing out praise of this glorious life
in a language beyond the power of speech, in a language of action,
so that our little lives might still be a beacon of justice, peace, and love,
and the world might know hope through our story, our song, our steps taken.

We ask this day that our inner fire burn brightly
with compassion and courage, creativity and love,
for whatever number of days ahead are still ours to claim.
May we know a sense of common purpose as a community. (pause)

And in a few moments of inner quietness now, let us take time to reflect on our own lives. Let us gently call to mind those moments in this last week that we found hard going. Times when we felt uneasy, agitated, or disheartened. When we made messed things up, perhaps. Let us pray inwardly for the comfort, compassion, or guidance we need to face those difficulties. (pause)

And let us call to mind a few moments in the week, however small they may seem, that brought a sense of uplift, consolation, or even joy. Let us give thanks for these everyday blessings. (pause)

And, expanding our circle of concern, let us focus our prayers on those situations that are concerning us in the wider world – close to home or far away – thinking of those who are in pain and distress – those who are caught up in conflict and cruelty, oppression and injustice – those who are struggling to make ends meet. Let us send loving-kindness, radiating out in concentric circles, to all those whose lives touch ours, that it may be felt wherever it is needed this day. (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 192 (HfL): ‘A New Community’

Let’s sing together now. Our next hymn is ‘A New Community’. It speaks of the aspirations we share as a church. It is number 192 in the green hymnbook and for those joining via Zoom the words will be up on your screen to sing along at home. Please feel free to stand or sit, as you prefer, as we sing: ‘A New Community’.

We would be one as now we join in singing
Our hymn of love, to pledge ourselves anew
To that high cause of greater understanding
Of who we are, and what in us is true.

We would be one in building for tomorrow
A greater world than we have known today;
We would be one in searching for that meaning
Which binds our hearts and points us on our way.

We would be one in living for each other,
With love and justice strive to make all free;
As one, we pledge ourselves to greater service,
To show the world a new community.

In-Person Reading: ‘Why Do You Come, John?’ by Victoria Safford (read by Brian)

I knew a man once who came to church every Sunday. You may find nothing remarkable in this. But think of it – a man who came every single Sunday, and it was not that he lacked other things to do. I knew him only in the last years of his life – a birthright Unitarian – a retired geologist who, when he was not at church, was a volunteer for Amnesty International, for the local food bank, for the Civil Liberties Union, for the family planning clinic, the AIDS project, for the Unitarian Universalist district we were part of, for nature conservation, and a splendid community chorus. Busier than any of us still holding full-time jobs, he was committed, effective, clear about what he could and would and, by his own standards, should contribute to the causes he cared for, the world and people that he cared for. But what him set him apart from all of us was that he came every single Sunday and (because of hearing loss, I think, more than any sense of his own importance) he sat in the front row.

“Why do you come, John? In all kinds of weather, when you’re well and when you’re not, when you like the visiting preacher and when you know you probably won’t, why do you come every Sunday?” I asked him not long before he died. His answer was straightforward, just like the man himself. “I come,” he said, “because somebody might miss me if I didn’t.”

He said it in a way not arrogant at all, but generously, and honestly. He was the kind of person who saw it as his duty and his privilege to welcome newcomers on Sunday morning – not because he needed more friends himself (the man was eighty years old, with a lifetime of friends and colleagues and acquaintances to spare; he had plenty of friends already, more than he could handle). He did it not because he especially wanted to evangelise the visitors or grow the church (in truth, he loved and missed the tiny congregation he’d joined in 1955, and he felt a little lost with so many new faces, a little sad at all the changes he’d seen down the years). Yet he greeted people as they came, and steered them towards the minister or the coffee pot, the Sunday school, the guest book, the standing order forms, the sign-up sheets, because he felt it was the right and only thing to do. When people come into your home, you welcome them as if nothing in that moment matters more. He worked hard on Sunday mornings, he got up on Sundays expecting to work hard to make others feel at home; he came with that in mind. And he was right – after he died, we missed him when he didn’t come.

And do you know what happened?

The Sunday after his funeral, someone new (who’d never met John and now would never have the chance) walked right in and sat down in his empty place in that front row. A whole family just sat right down – as if they owned the place, as if they had every right to be there, as if we were glad to see them – two women new to town, and their toddler and their baby. They came hoping there was room – and there was – and John himself would have been delighted.

Meditation: ‘Why Are We Here?’

Thanks Brian. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. And I’m going to invite you, with just a few introductory words, to reflect on the perennial question: ‘Why Are We Here?’ These 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 relaxing music from Benjie and Sandra. 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.

So as we enter into this time of shared stillness I invite you to ponder this cluster of questions
(and feel free to just follow whichever prompt most speaks to you in the next few minutes).

Why are we here? – That is: why are we here, as a church? – What is the purpose of our existence?
What difference should we – a small yet dedicated congregation – be making to the world?
What do you understand our ultimate, guiding, purpose – our mission, even – to be?
What do you discern to be the particular calling of this group of people in at this time in history?

Why are we here? Let us take these questions into a few minutes of shared stillness now.

Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell

Musical Interlude: ‘One Hand, One Heart’ – Leonard Bernstein – played by Benjie del Rosario and Sandra Smith

Online Reading: ‘Religious Community is Not Enough’ by Tom Schade (excerpts, adapted) (read by Hannah)

If your congregation defines its purpose as “being a religious or spiritual community”, it is time to think bigger.

Religious communities are wonderful for the people who belong to them. But in today’s climate, many others are not interested in religious communities that exist just for the sake of existing. They think such groups are self-serving and obsolete. If the main work of a church is just to survive, “to uphold the tradition,” or to keep alive a beautiful old landmark building, there’s not enough reason to join.

“Being a community” is thinking small. Our ultimate goals and purpose cannot simply be about ourselves. Unitarians, like members of every other religion, are trying to change the world by encouraging people to live a different way. By word, and by deed, Unitarians are trying to change people. It is time for us to acknowledge and proclaim this, and to see that building a religious community is but a means to that larger end.

Yes, we do think that our liberal religion offers a better way to live.
Openness and hospitality are better ways to live than shouting, “Get off my lawn!”
Humility is a better way to live than “My way or the highway.”
Gratitude and generosity are better ways to live than “I got mine; you’re on your own.”
Compassion is a better way to live than “Here’s a quarter; go call somebody who cares.”
Honesty and living in truth are better ways to live than propaganda and denial and comforting stories.
Self-possession is a better way to live than following the crowd, or habit, or unconscious compulsion.
Awe and reverence are better responses to the world than “meh.”

Our liberal religion has a purpose, and it is bigger than we think, and certainly bigger than gathering with like-minded people for mutual support (as valuable as that is). I am not talking about “social justice work” although that is important too. Our purpose is bigger than changing some laws, or ushering in much-needed social reform. Rather, our purpose is to develop people who would care about such issues and feel the strength to act accordingly.

What I am talking about is related to the “missional” trend in Unitarianism, in which people are committing themselves to living out our values in real, embodied, particular ways in specific communities, “to love the hell out of the world.” But how does a person reach the point where mission becomes their passion? Our purpose is to cultivate people who can feel such passion and live out the mission, in acts large and small, every day.

We must build our Unitarian communities, not just as refuges, but in service to a larger goal: humanizing our culture and transforming the world. Inclusion has traditionally been our goal. But inclusion is about “bringing in.” We should be thinking about “going out” and meeting people where they are. Let us aim to change the world by creating a humane culture that sustains all people. Not just in here, in our congregations, but out there, too. Reaching those who might never walk through our doors. Let’s live our values. Let’s turn the world upside down.

Reflection: ‘Start with Why’ by Jane Blackall

So: Why are we here? There are various ways in which you might choose to take this question. In the first reading, the one Brian gave for us earlier, the question was directed at the individual: ‘Why do you come, John?’ In the sense of: ‘why do you faithfully show up here every week, and muck in to help, when your life is already full-to-bursting with other commitments, and there are plenty of other fun things you might choose to do instead on any given Sunday morning?’

I wonder how each of us might answer that question. It might also be instructive to cast your mind back and think ‘why did I come here in the first place?’ Perhaps you came out of sheer need – out of loneliness and a need for connection – out of a desire to be in a community of shared values – or out of a spiritual hunger that couldn’t be met in other churches where you were excluded. Perhaps you were going through a life crisis of some sort and it was a slightly random throw of the dice. All of those are ‘whys’ that I’ve heard many times from people who’ve ended up in various Unitarian congregations (and all of them are reasons I could put my hand up to, ‘whys’ that first brought me here, back when I was in my mid-20s and joining a Unitarian church wasn’t an obvious life choice).

And once you’re through the front door (whether that’s the physical door or the virtual door of a Zoom waiting room) there’s a follow-up question: ask yourself ‘why did I keep coming back?’ The factors that bring you back – or put you off, never to be seen again – aren’t necessarily going to be very noble or profound. Maybe the coffee was terrible (thumbs down) but the cake was great (thumbs up) so on balance you decided to give them another chance the next week. Maybe the sermon was only so-so (thumbs down) but you got talking to a few friendly souls after the service and had a deep and meaningful conversation (thumbs up) and those early connections you made brought you back again. Maybe someone was a bit standoffish (thumbs down) but the experience of having an hour of safe and sacred space left you feeling peaceful and uplifted (thumbs up) and you realised you could do with a regular dose of comfort and inspiration in your life. Perhaps, once you got into the habit of coming, the ‘why’ simply faded into the background, became unconscious. Coming to church is just The Thing You Do On Sundays now. Or you made friends in church, so of course you come, because it’s where you’ll see your friends. And – like ‘John’ in the story we heard earlier – maybe you realise we’d miss you if you weren’t here. And that by showing up, and helping out, you keep the church alive, and keep the doors open in welcome, for the next person in need who comes along. It makes me think of Rev. Cliff Reed’s reflection, ‘Being There’, in which he says:

‘It matters that we come here when we can, not just for what each may gain, but for what we each may contribute by our presence and participation. Remind us, in our heart of hearts, that if we want our church to be there for us, then we must be there for our church. And remind us that, if we want its members to be there for us in our need, then we must be there for them in theirs. In our strength, may we be strong for those who feel their weakness. In our weakness, may we be ready to take the proffered hand, for through it we may receive the strength that is divine.’

Wise words from Cliff Reed there. And I think in our heart of hearts most of us know this to be true. Church community, at its best, is a network of mutuality – of give and take – we’re not consumers.

As well as asking ‘why are we here’ I think it’s important to take a moment to think about who’s not here – and why they’re not here – this is something that I think about a lot. Let’s imagine asking ‘why don’t you come’ to those people who very likely have many of those same needs and desires that brought us to church – needs for connection, community, and spiritual enrichment – but we are here this morning and they are not (and in most cases they’re not involved in any other church or religious community either). This is an important thing to check in with ourselves about from time to time, I reckon, if we’re to avoid becoming an inward-looking social club that only really caters for ‘people like us’. I’m thinking about people who would be at least curious about giving church a try – I know many people are suspicious of religious institutions for a number of quite legitimate reasons – but there are people who do consciously yearn for connection, community, and spiritual enrichment – but their circumstances make it difficult for them to show up here on a regular basis. For many people there are practical obstacles which make it much less likely they will cross the threshold of a Unitarian church in the first place. I’ve made a list: geographical isolation (it’s not like there is a Unitarian church on every corner; we’re thinly spread and only the most determined are going to travel a long way to check us out), ill-health, disability, irregular or unpredictable work patterns (or simply overwork and exhaustion), caring responsibilities, and perhaps a sort of peer pressure (with churchgoers being very much in the minority these days it doesn’t necessarily have to be a hostile anti-religion kind of peer-pressure; it can just be that all your contemporaries are having brunch on Sundays, or possibly getting over a big night out on Saturday, and if you want to engage in any kind of ‘normal’ social life your Sundays may be accounted for). There are lots of reasons why people might not actually get here on a Sunday morning (even if they’d love it if they did). Here at Essex Church, over the last couple of years, we’ve begun to address some of these obstacles with our commitment to providing hybrid services and other activities which are accessible in new ways. But it’s important to keep reminding ourselves that there are many people who could benefit from our spiritual community – and we could benefit from their presence – yet they face these various barriers to participation.

And if we’re thinking about who’s not here we also have to acknowledge the flipside of the ‘habit’ of coming to church that I mentioned earlier. For many of us it’s a positive thing that church is just The Thing We Do On Sundays by default. But it seems for quite a few people the pandemic broke that habit – they liked coming to church in-person well enough – but when we closed our doors, they didn’t much like coming to church online – and by the time in-person church resumed the habit was broken. And, anecdotally, churches up and down the country have seen that happen. Numbers have dropped. In all the upheaval of the last few years, some people have moved away; some have died; much-loved ministers have retired or left the profession; some stalwart volunteers called it a day; those who came back found that their beloved church was not how they left it. A lot has changed. And if our primary reason for coming to church in the before-times was ‘out of habit’ then it’s no wonder that, for some, the habit was broken under all this strain and upheaval. ‘Habit’ is a fairly weak reason for ‘why we come to church’. If we have some deeper sense of intentional commitment – to a common purpose and shared values – it is, perhaps, less likely we will drift away during times of challenge and change.

Everything I’ve talked about so far is very much focused on the individual – why are you here? And why are others not here? – but really this is just a preamble to a more significant question: Why are we here? As in, what’s our collective purpose? What’s the point of us ‘doing church’? You could take that on a local level, thinking about one congregation, or the whole shebang of Unitarianism. It’s possibly an easier question to answer in more traditional, creedal, churches. But for us it’s not so obvious. It’s something that needs a bit of care and attention to discern.

Our second reading, ‘Religious Community is Not Enough’ by Tom Schade, presented his sense of ‘why we are here’, and it’s an approach that appeals to me, at least as a starting point for exploration. According to Schade, our purpose as a church is to change the world by encouraging people to see differently, think differently, live differently, and – little-by-little – shift the wider culture to the good. For him it’s not about getting more bums-on-seats (or boxes-in-the-Zoom-gallery), not about coming to church for its own sake, but it’s about coming to be transformed, and to help transform the world. And, who knows, if we were to articulate our purpose in that way, it might inspire others to join us…

I dangled a free gift in front of congregation members who attended today’s service. Here it is: a little book titled ‘Why Are We Here? Discerning Our Unitarian Mission in an Upturned World’. If you’re at the church in-person please pick up a copy to take away; if you’re a congregation member or regular attender joining online please drop me an email with your address; if you’re visiting us from another congregation or viewing on YouTube I don’t think I can stretch the generosity of our committee to give the freebies away to you too but it’s £5 to buy from Essex Hall or all the usual online outlets.

This little book contains the text of five short talks from last year’s online Hucklow Summer School. Five different speakers each giving their own angle on the theme on this question of ‘Why Are We Here?’ (full disclosure: the first talk is by me). And, starting in January, we’re going to have a once-a-month online gathering to reflect on these five perspectives in turn and share our own. The first one will be on Wednesday 11th January at 7pm, and it’ll mostly be the second Wednesday of the month, except in March when we’ve swerved to avoid a clash with another event. Do join us. (You don’t even have to read the book as the talks are all on YouTube and available as a podcast).

Today is just the start of a process – that’s part of the reason why I chose the title ‘Start with Why’ – because discerning and embracing our collective sense of purpose takes time, and care, and we’re not going to come to a conclusive answer today with me presenting my views in a 14-minute sermon. But it’s a hugely important question for us to wrestle with for a whole bunch of reasons. Having a truly shared and collective sense of purpose, one that we all truly own, strengthens our community. And it enables us to be much more thoughtful and intentional about what it is we are doing here than if we just keep doing-what-we’ve-always-done out of a sense of habit and institutional inertia. It also helps us to stay committed during times when the going gets tough (as it has these last few years).

Having a clear sense of our ‘why’ can help us gain greater clarity about ‘what’ and ‘how’ (and possibly also ‘when’ and ‘where’). Sharpening our sense of purpose shapes what we do next and how we do it. We are, let’s be honest, a small community – both as a congregation and as a denomination – and we need to make choices (sometimes quite difficult choices) about where we put our limited energy and resources as we go forward. Having a sense of our shared purpose can focus and sharpen our decision-making as we ask ourselves: does this or that activity fit our values and serve our mission?

It’s worth noting that the precise shape of the vision won’t be the same for every congregation – there’s not going to be a one-size-fits-all answer to the question ‘why are we here?’ – each group has its own particular context, resources, history, and quirky collection of humans to work with – and these variables will shape each congregation’s self-concept and aspirations, though we’re all part of one Unitarian movement pulling in broadly the same direction. Some congregations have thrown themselves into social action and campaigning, others are big on local community service, while we here at Essex Church have never really had a very locally-based congregation, so perhaps that’s why we’ve been unusually well-placed to focus on making our activities accessible online, in order to open up our Unitarian message to those who might have been accidentally excluded in the past. You might think of it as each congregation having its own unique and particular ‘charism’ or ‘calling’.

As I said, we’re just starting the conversation today, and I hope a good number of you will join me in our monthly explorations of the theme from January. But to close I’ll share a few words from the book, written by my colleague, Rev. Dr. Rory Castle-Jones, minister with Gellionnen chapel in Wales. This is his answer to the question ‘why are we here?’ and it’s one I can really get behind. He writes:

‘Why are we here? Well, I think – at the risk of sounding a little dramatic – we are here to save the world… We need a church where we can work in unison to prepare to help those hit hardest. We need a church to change the way our entire civilisation functions, as it destroys our world and itself in its relentless pursuit of profit. We need a church which is both sanctuary and prophetic, both a safe haven and a voice of protest. We need a church which can draw on several hundred years of loving community, and radical action – to hold aloft God’s flame in the face of a world gone mad – and offer hope, offer love, and offer a vision of a world fundamentally and radically different from the one in which we live today.’

Wise words from Rory Castle-Jones. May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘We’ll Build a Land’

Time for our last hymn. It’s a stirring favourite: ‘We’ll Build a Land’. It’s on your hymn sheet, and the words will also be up on screen, so once again feel free to sit our stand as you prefer as we sing.

We’ll build a land where we bind up the broken.
We’ll build a land where the captives go free,
where the oil of gladness dissolves all mourning.
O, we’ll build a promised land that can be.
Come build a land where sisters and brothers,
anointed by God, may then create peace:
where justice shall roll down like waters,
and peace like an ever flowing stream.

We’ll build a land where we bring the good tidings
to all the afflicted and all those who mourn.
And we’ll give them garlands instead of ashes.
O, we’ll build a land where peace is born.
Come build a land where sisters and brothers,
anointed by God, may then create peace:
where justice shall roll down like waters,
and peace like an ever flowing stream.

We’ll be a land building up ancient cities,
raising up devastations of old;
restoring ruins of generations.
O, we’ll build a land of people so bold.
Come build a land where sisters and brothers,
anointed by God, may then create peace:
where justice shall roll down like waters,
and peace like an ever flowing stream.

Come, build a land where the mantles of praises
resound from spirits once faint and once weak;
where like oaks of righteousness stand her people.
O, come build the land, my people we seek.
Come build a land where sisters and brothers,
anointed by God, may then create peace:
where justice shall roll down like waters,
and peace like an ever flowing stream.

Announcements:

Thanks to Jeannene for tech-hosting and Hannah for co-hosting. Thanks to Brian and Hannah for reading. Thanks to Benjie and Sandra for playing for us. For those of you who are at church in-person, David will be serving beverages and biscuits after the service, if you want to stay and chat – thanks David – and thanks Patricia for greeting. We would really appreciate having more hands on deck with these and other volunteering tasks so please do have a word if you might be able to help us out in the coming months. There will be virtual coffee on Zoom with Hannah too so do hang around for a chat.

We have various small group activities 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 ‘Questions’. The in-person poetry group meets this Wednesday 7th December. You can have a word with Brian or drop him an email if you want to know more about the poetry group. Our service next Sunday will be hybrid once again and it’ll be led by Sarah Tinker on the theme of ‘Building Your Own Christmas’. We might even have our decorations up! Details of these activities and all our events are on the back of the order of service and also in the Friday email.

Looking further ahead – our main Christmas carol service will be on Sunday 18th December – and we’ll have a quartet of singers on that day – so do feel free to bring friends who’d like a singalong. That Sunday will be a bit of a festival of singing as Margaret’s singing class will be straight after the service at noon and then Marilisa’s ‘Many Voices’ singing group are on from 1.30pm. There’ll also be our traditional candlelit carol service at 5pm on Christmas Eve – let me know if you’re planning to be there as I have no idea how many chairs we ought to put out for that one – and Heidi has kindly offered to organise dinner at the Mall Tavern, the pub across the road, after that service for anyone who’d like to join her – so please do get in touch with Heidi ASAP so she can book up. The West London Green Spirit group are going to have a Winter Solstice gathering on Wednesday 21st December – I think this is an afternoon gathering but details TBC – get in touch with Sarah to let her know if you plan to be there. Looking even further ahead I’m planning to offer a workshop on New Year’s Eve – an online mini-retreat from 2-5pm – where we can reflect on the turning of the year. Drop me an email if you want to sign up for that. All are welcome so tell your friends.

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 Rebecca A. Edmiston-Lange

Our time together is finished,
but our work is not yet done.
Mindful of our highest aspirations,
Bound by common faith and purpose,
And, yet, beginning with ourselves as we are,
Let us take one more step, together,
in our unending quest for dignity, justice and love. Amen.

Closing Music: ‘Carol’ – Gerald Finzi – Played by Benjie del Rosario and Sandra Smith

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

4th December 2022