Passing Time – 01/01/23

Opening Music: ‘Auld Lang Syne’ performed by Abby and Sue Lorimier

Opening Words: ‘We Bid You Welcome’ by Sylvia L. Howe

We bid you welcome on this first Sunday of the New Year.

Like Janus we gather with part of us looking backward
and part of us looking forward.

We gather on the edge of the new year
saddened by our losses,
cherishing our joys,
aware of our failures,
mindful of days gone by.

We gather on the cusp of this new year
eager to begin anew,
hopeful for what lies ahead,
promising to make changes,
anticipating tomorrows and tomorrows.

We invite you to join our celebration of life,
knowing that life includes good and bad,
endings and beginnings.

On this New Year’s Day: we bid you welcome.

These opening words by Sylvia L. Howe welcome all those who have gathered on Zoom this morning to take part in our Sunday service this New Year’s Day. Welcome – and Happy New Year! – to regular members of the congregation, to any friends and visitors who are with us today, and also those who might be listening/watching, at a later date. For those who don’t know me, my name is Jane Blackall, I’m Ministry Coordinator with Kensington Unitarians.

If you are joining us for the first time today – or for the thousandth – we’re glad to you have you with us – I hope you find something of what you most need this morning. Please do hang around afterwards for a chat or drop us an email to say hello and introduce yourself if you’d like. Or you might try coming to one of our various small-group gatherings to get to know us better (this is something I really recommend as a way to deepen your experience of this spiritual community). And if you’re a regular here – thank you for all that you do to welcome all who come each Sunday. Each and every one of us has a part to play in co-creating this sacred space & sense of community.

As we always say, feel free to do what you need to do to be comfortable this hour – it’s always lovely to see your faces in the gallery and get a sense of our togetherness as a congregation – but we know for some it will feel more comfortable to keep your camera mostly-off and that’s fine. Similarly there’ll be opportunities to join in as we go along but there’s no compulsion to do so.

This morning’ service is titled ‘Passing Time’. Through readings, prayers, and personal reflection, we’ll consider the turning of the new year in the context of all those old years we’ve already lived through. What has endured, down the years? What has changed, with the passing of time? To what extent have we been able to set our intentions, over the course of our lives, and bring about significant transformation? There’ll be an opportunity later in the service – in the slot where a sermon might otherwise be – for you to share your own thoughts in relation to the theme.

Chalice Lighting: ‘For the New Year’ by Lisa Doege

Before we go any further though, I’ll light our chalice, as we always do whenever we gather. This simple ritual connects us with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proudly progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part.

For the new year,
just days old,
beginning today,
always beginning:

We light our chalice,
symbol of faith, perseverance, and hope,
in astonished thanksgiving and irrepressible praise.

For beginnings that
emerge out of endings,
appear amidst continuity,
become visible in hindsight:

We light our chalice,
symbol of faith, perseverance, and hope,
in astonished thanksgiving and irrepressible praise.

For all the times,
and all the ways,
we have begun anew, together:

We light our chalice,
symbol of faith, perseverance, and hope,
in astonished thanksgiving and irrepressible praise.

Hymn: ‘Gather the Spirit’ sung by the Unitarian Music Society

Time to sing. Our first hymn is ‘Gather the Spirit’. The words will appear on screen so that you can sing along – or you might prefer to listen – we’ll make sure you’re kept safely muted.

Gather the spirit, harvest the power.
Our separate fires will kindle one flame.
Witness the mystery of this hour.
Our trials in this light appear all the same.
Gather in peace, gather in thanks.
Gather in sympathy now and then.
Gather in hope, compassion and strength.
Gather to celebrate once again.

Gather the spirit of heart and mind.
Seeds for the sowing are laid in store.
Nurtured in love and conscience refined,
with body and spirit united once more.
Gather in peace, gather in thanks.
Gather in sympathy now and then.
Gather in hope, compassion and strength.
Gather to celebrate once again.

Gather the spirit growing in all,
drawn by the moon and fed by the sun.
Winter to spring, and summer to fall,
the chorus of life resounding as one.
Gather in peace, gather in thanks.
Gather in sympathy now and then.
Gather in hope, compassion and strength.
Gather to celebrate once again.

Candles of Joy and Concern:

Each week when we gather together, whether it’s in person at the church in Kensington or here as an online congregation, 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 got a good few minutes now, for anyone who would like to do so, to light a candle (real or imaginary) and say a few words about what it represents.

When you’re ready to speak, unmute your microphone so we can all hear you, and then re-mute yourself once you’ve finished. If you are going to speak, please be aware of how long you’re speaking for, so that there’s time for others to say something too. Let’s leave a pause between one candle and the next, so we can honour what’s been shared. And don’t worry too much if two people end up speaking at the same time, or there’s a technical hitch of some sort – these things happen on Zoom – please do persevere! At this point it’d be nice, if you can, to switch to gallery view so we can all see everybody.

(candles)

I’ve got one more candle here and – as we often do – I’m going to light that to represent all those joys and concerns that we might be holding silently in our heart today, those stories which we don’t feel able to share out loud this morning. Let’s take a moment now to think of all those joys and concerns we have heard expressed… all those little windows into our shared human condition and the life of the world we share… and let’s hold them – and each other – in a spirit of loving-kindness for a moment or two. And let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer now.

Prayer: based on words by Paul Vachon and Lyn Cox

You might first want to adjust your position for comfort, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever works for you.

Do whatever you need to do to get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – to be fully present here and now, in this sacred time and space – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us.

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 come together, this New Year’s Day,
to take stock of the year just gone:
its moments of happiness and hurt,
its periods of accomplishment and failure,
and its times of inspiration and apprehension.
We add these experiences to the tapestries of our years,
and once again look bravely towards a new horizon. (pause)

And, looking forward, we give thanks for the gift of renewal.
We give thanks for the ability to begin again, to start over;
after each time of trial and loss, each season of struggle and sorrow;
as we continue to endure great uncertainty and upheaval in the world around us.

Grant us the courage to continue on the journey,
the courage to act and speak for the well-being
of others, and ourselves, and the planet we share.
May we forgive ourselves and each other
when our courage and care falls short,
and may we resolve to try again, in love.

Grant us hearts to love boldly,
to embody our faith and our values
each day in living words and deeds.
May our hearts open to embrace
humility, grace, and reconciliation.

Grant us the ability to learn and grow,
to let the Spirit of Love and Truth work
its transformation upon us and within us.
Grant us the spirit of radical hospitality,
the willingness to sustain a dwelling place
for the holy that resides in all being.

Grant us a sense of being at peace in the world,
even as we are in perpetual motion,
tossed and turned by life’s tempests.
Let us cultivate – together – the strength
to welcome every kind of gift life brings our way
and all manner of ways to be on the journey together. (pause)

And in a good few moments of shared stillness now,
may our hearts speak silently all the prayers of our lives —
the worries bringing us down and the tentative hopes lifting us up –
the disappointments, frustrations, and regrets – the dreams, schemes, and aspirations —
awareness of the infinite network of connectedness we know ourselves to be part of – all of those concerns for ourselves and others that are weighing on our hearts and minds this day.

Let us offer up our deepest reality to the One who holds All. (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 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: ‘Here in this Moment’s Song’ sung by Kensington Unitarians

Time for our next hymn: ‘Here in this Moment’s Song’. It connects to our theme today, if perhaps in a slightly oblique and mystical manner, with its references to eternity in the present moment (a little bit of a nod to William Blake perhaps). Anyway, it’s an old favourite, so let’s sing together!

Here in this moment’s song
great symphonies are sung;
all people we contain,
ageless, though old or young:
in passing words and melody
we celebrate eternity.

Thus, in each moment small
we can contain all hours;
in everyone the All
expresses and empowers;
each person great, a living world
from whom uniqueness is unfurled.

Hope shall admit no bounds,
as love no limit knows;
each new-born dream made real
in our commitment grows;
the possible, the yet-to-be
is now, is here, is you and me.

Reading: ‘Blossoming into the New Year’ by Tim Atkins (adapted) (read by Charlotte)

This piece (written a year ago) by Unitarian Universalist Tim Atkins, begins with a quote from Melody Beattie: “Dig within, and discover what you would like to have happen in your life this year. This helps you do your part. It is an affirmation that you’re interested in fully living life in the year to come.”

Tim Atkins continues: Ever since 2016, I’ve been picking a word that serves as the theme for my year: a single word that I want to serve as my grounding; my personal north star for the year to come.

Joy. Embrace. Explore. Delight. Authenticity. Roots. Each of those words has represented a year of my life. Part of my New Year’s tradition is reflecting on those words from prior years, and how my year was influenced by that theme. In January 2021, I chose “roots.” During challenging times throughout the year, when I wasn’t sure what to do, I used my word to guide me: I meditated on “roots” and found an activity that helped me build the roots I had been seeking. It motivated me to do tasks I normally would never have attempted – like planting rose bushes in my backyard. It helped give me – an introvert – the motivation to meet people in my neighbourhood and attend some local neighbourhood festivals. It helped me pay closer attention to local justice issues. I will forever remember 2021 not as “Year Two of the Pandemic,” but as my year of roots.

After I’m done reflecting on the past year, I think about what comes next: Where am I on my life’s Journey? What would I change if I could? What do I notice happening in my own personal evolution? What do I want to come next? What do I need to come next? After careful consideration, I decide on my word for the new year.

For 2022, my word will be “blossom.” Sure, it flows naturally from last year’s “roots,” but I’ve also noticed new facets of my identity that are starting to blossom. It’s time to let myself try new things and really truly allow myself to blossom, and observe what beauty develops. It’s time to truly blossom into a new, more fully-realized version myself.

If this is your first year to the idea, I invite you to consider making this one of your own personal New Year’s traditions, too. When you think about the coming year, what word do you want your theme of the year to be? What word might you use as your north star for 2023?

Tim Atkins concludes with a few words of prayer: Give me comfort as I reflect on the past year and remember all the peaks and valleys on the journey. Give me wisdom as I seek out what is right for me for the new year. Give me inspiration as I define my intentions for the new year. And give me courage to live the life I yearn for. Amen.

Meditation: ‘i am running into a new year’ by Lucille Clifton

Thanks Charlotte. We’ve come to a time of meditation. To take us into stillness, I’m going to share a short poem by Lucille Clifton, titled ‘I am running into a new year’ – she was a twentieth-century African-American poet whose work came to prominence when it was lifted up by Langston Hughes – I confess I hadn’t knowingly heard of her work until this week when a friend (thanks Tara) shared this short poem on social media. After the poem I’ll offer a few prompts for reflection – I’ll invite you to think of this new year in the context of all the old years you’ve seen – and we’ll have space to share our reflections on this later in the service. We’ll have a few minutes of shared stillness during which we’ll have our virtual chalice on screen. The silence will end with music from Abby and Sue. So let’s each do what we need to do to get comfortable – have a wiggle if you need to – or put your feet flat on the floor to ground and steady yourself – maybe close your eyes. And as always, these words, images, music, they’re just an offering, feel free to meditate in your own way.

‘i am running into a new year’ by Lucille Clifton

i am running into a new year
and the old years blow back
like a wind
that i catch in my hair
like strong fingers like
all my old promises and
it will be hard to let go
of what i said to myself
about myself
when i was sixteen and
twentysix and thirtysix
even thirtysix but
i am running into a new year
and i beg what i love and
i leave to forgive me

(pause)

Let’s take these words from Lucille Clifton and think back on the years of our own lives… when we were sixteen, and twentysix, and thirtysix… and maybe forty, fifty, sixty, seventy-six. We are all of different ages, but by now, all of us have seen many new years come and go. We are running – perhaps walking, or hobbling – slouching, or tumbling – into another year. With hopes and aspirations, maybe, about what might be different this time around the sun. With intentions as to who we are going to be, and how we are going to face the days to come. What has remained constant in our story-so-far? What has changed, through chance, or choice? Looking back – and looking forward – let us sit with a sense of the whole sweep of our lives.

I’ll read the short poem from Lucille Clifton once again to lead us into the time of silence.

Silence: 3 minutes silence accompanied by chalice video

Musical Interlude: ‘Billie’s Song’ performed by Abby and Sue Lorimier

Reading: ‘Carving Out a New Year’ by Richard S. Gilbert (read by Brian)

We stand before the new year as a painter before a blank canvas,
As a sculptor before a mass of stone,
As a composer before music paper with only lines and staff,
As a dancer before the movement begins.

To be sure, we have painted canvasses before;
We have carved out the shape of other years;
We have written other notes in time gone by;
We have moved through other hours.

But this is a fresh canvas,
Ready to receive colours never before imagined.
This is a new block of stone,
Ready to be shaped by the chisel of mind and body.
This is a bundle of notes,
Waiting to be arrayed across the beckoning page.
This is an open space,
Waiting to host new steps and spins.

What are we to make of these colours we hold in our hands?
What are we to shape from this block of allotted time?
What melodies and harmonies will we create for the first time?
What movement will define the space once more granted to us?

What are we to make of this wonder while it is ours?
We tremble before the possibilities.
We feel anxious before the freedom given us.
We are apprehensive, perhaps, in the face of the new year.

Knowing all this, let us begin anew, with fresh courage to do and be.

Interactive Activity: ‘Passing Time’

We’re coming towards a time in our service now for a few people, if you’d like, to share your own brief reflections on today’s theme. We’re thinking about the turning of the new year against the backdrop of all the old years that we’ve already lived through. So often we make new year’s all about making resolutions and declaring that we’re going to change everything about ourselves overnight – we’re going to give up half a dozen habits and take up half a dozen supposedly more virtuous things instead – that’s not where we’re going with this today though!

If we look back over the years of our lives, some things will have endured and stayed constant, and other things will have changed. Some of those changes will have been accidental, or will have been foisted upon us by external forces, but we will also have been the architects of some of those changes ourselves. We will have intentionally set our own course in life. Not – or not necessarily by piling up a bunch of resolutions on one day in January – but gradually over time. Because every year, every month, every week, every day, every minute offers us possibilities. So this is the sort of territory we’re exploring. The passing of time, and change, and continuity.

In this time of sharing you might want to think back over the readings: the piece from Tim Atkins about choosing a word or a theme for each year to help focus your attention and guide you (and how that’s a gentle way to steer your course in life without making rigid regulations or plans); or the poem from Lucille Clifton with the old years blowing back at you as you run into the new year; or the piece from Richard S. Gilbert reminding us that each new year is a blank canvas, and offers new freedom and possibility, regardless of how many times we have painted on canvases before.

So we’ve got about ten minutes now to share our reflections on the theme. I admit the theme is a bit nebulous but as I say at Heart and Soul – ‘tangents are always welcome’ – don’t worry about following on from what the last person has said or trying to make it all join up logically! I invite you to share from your centre to the centre of the gathering – think of it as an offering – not a discussion or debate – please don’t directly critique what others have shared. If anyone would like to speak please put your hand up and I’ll call on you & spotlight you. I want you to be able to share whatever you’re moved to share and also I’m mindful of time so maybe a couple of minutes each? By default we will leave this bit in the recording so if you join in but don’t want to be included in the video that goes online please have a word with me straight after the service and I’ll edit you out.

(invite people to speak – won’t have time for everyone – may continue after)

If nobody else wants to speak – thank you for your contributions – and I’ll bring this to a close now with some words to welcome and bless the new year (freely adapted from Amanda Poppei).

My friends, we have arrived: we have made it to 2023.

We have crossed the boundary of time, into the new year,
with all its promise and plans and schedules ahead of us.

Let us pause, for just this moment, before we move boldly onward.
Let us pause to deepen our awareness and appreciation of those around us,
to sense their presence with us this morning; to know their presence in our lives.

Let us pause to feel the spirit of life and love that ties us to each other,
that winds its way through our very bones and settles in our hearts.

Before we set out again, in pursuit of our noble aspirations,
let us notice what it is that remains every year, every day.
What exists beyond calendars and to-do lists, beyond time itself.
That deeper reality which welcomes us to abundant life,
not just at the start of the year, but day after day.

May we know ourselves to be blessed, and held in love,
as we go out in faith and meet the days to come. Amen.

Hymn: ‘O Glad New Year Of God’ sung by Kensington Unitarians

One last hymn – we only get to sing this once a year so it won’t be super-familiar – but let’s do our best in singing along with this recording of our congregation from a few years ago. It’s a hopeful vision of the possibilities that might await us in the year ahead: ‘O Glad New Year of God’.

Welcome from God, O glad New Year!
Thy paths all yet untrod,
Another year of life’s delight;
Another year of God

Another year of setting suns,
Of stars by night revealed,
Of springing grass, of tender buds
By winter’s snow concealed.

Another year of summer’s glow,
Of autumn’s gold and brown,
Of waving fields, and ruddy fruit
The branches weighing down.

Another year of happy work,
That better is than play;
Of simple cares, and love that grows
More sweet from day to day.

Welcome from God, O glad new year!
Thy paths all yet untrod,
Another year of life’s delight —
O glad new year of God.

Announcements:

A few announcements: Thanks to Charlotte for co-hosting and reading, also to Brian for reading, to Abby and Sue for our music, and everyone who contributed to our sharing in today’s service. We’ll have virtual coffee-time after the service as usual, so you can stay and chat if you’d like, or get in touch via email if you’d like to say hello. We’ll be back to hybrid Sundays from next week when Patricia Brewerton will be co-leading the service with me on the theme of ‘An Ideal World’.

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 contemplative spiritual gatherings (online Sunday/Friday at 7pm) and this week’s theme is ‘Friendship’. We are celebrating ten years of Heart and Soul – the actual anniversary is this Tuesday – so if you haven’t been along for a while this is a good week to come back and celebrate this landmark with us.

In a couple of weeks, on Wednesday 11th January, we’re starting our group exploring the little book ‘Why Are We Here?’. We’ll be tackling one brief chapter a month for five months (and even if you don’t fancy reading it you can join in by watching videos of the original talks online). If you haven’t got a copy of the book and you’d like one give me a shout as a I have a few copies left to give away. I’ve been trailing this event for some time and as a result I’ve got myself in a muddle about who’s signed up so can you please email me to make sure I’ve got your name down. Thanks.

And looking a bit further ahead the in-person poetry group have decided to give January a miss but will be back in action on Wednesday 1st February so please get that date in your diary.

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.

Benediction: based on words by Edward Searl

We’ve just got our closing words and music now. So I invite you to select gallery view at this point, if you can, so we can all see each other and get a sense of our gathered community as we close.

Always there is another beginning —

a new day,
a new month,
a new season,
a new year.

Forever the old passes away
and newness emerges
from the richness that was.

Nothing is ever lost
in the many changes
time brings.

What was, in some way,
will be,
though changed in form.

Know this:
This moment is a beginning;
and your lives,

individually and together,
are full of richness, of freshness,
of hope and of promise.

So, in the days to come, may we hold on to that sense of hope and promise,
and seek those chances for renewal that are so often out there
waiting for us in the mess and muddle of everyday life.
May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.

Closing Music: ‘Blues for the Duke’ performed by Abby and Sue Lorimier

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

1st January 2023