Inquiring Minds – 5/2/23
Musical Prelude: 8 Pieces, Op. 39 for Violin and Cello – IV. Canzonetta – R. Glière – performed by Sydney Mariano and Simon Guémy
Opening Words: ‘Here We Are So Gathered’ by Patricia Shelden
Here is where we gather in the presence of the Sacred.
Here is where we gather to experience the Holy
Here is where, together, we face the unanswerable questions
and acknowledge that not knowing can be both sublime and frustrating.
Here is where we unite in the midst of Life and all the glories
and suffering it can hold, knowing both are ever present.
Here is where we ask, think, risk, discuss, ponder and offer what
might not be welcomed or even acceptable somewhere else.
Here is where, if we allow it, we are deeply moved.
Here is where we encounter each other in deep and powerful ways
that sometimes provoke and surprise us, yet without which we might not survive.
Here we gather to worship, to experience something happen –
perhaps something different for each of us according to our beliefs,
something unnamed, uncategorized, and unusual yet absolutely necessary.
Here we are so gathered: our minds, our hearts, and our souls.
And, so, our hour of worship begins. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These opening words, by Patricia Shelden, welcome all those who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person here at Essex Church and also to all who are joining us via Zoom from far and wide. We are glad to have you with us this day. 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.
Today’s service is titled ‘Inquiring Minds’. The choice of topic was inspired, in part, by two different publications: firstly ‘The Inquirer’ – our Unitarian magazine which comes out once a fortnight (and it has been doing since 1842, making it the longest-lived non-conformist paper in the world, apparently); and this book, ‘The Importance of Being Interested: Adventures in Scientific Curiosity’ by Robin Ince, we’ll hear a little excerpt from this later in the service. With the help of these two publications we’ll reflect on the vital role that asking questions and being curious plays in a faithful and flourishing life.
Let’s take a moment before we go any further to settle ourselves, arrive, and prepare for worship. We’ve each chosen to take some time out of the everyday doings of our lives to be here this morning. So let’s take a conscious breath. And another. And with each exhalation let’s visualise a letting go. A setting aside of anything we’ve come in carrying. We can pick it up later if need be. Let us bring our whole selves to the here and now, as we consecrate this hour with our presence and intention.
Chalice Lighting: ‘With Hearts Open’ by Julianne Lepp (adapted)
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 seek our place in this beautiful, heart-breaking, world
and we search for answers to our hearts’ deep questions.
As we seek, may our hearts be truly open –
open to complex and unexpected answers,
open to the wise insights of others,
open to forming new and ever deeper connections
within, between, and beyond our selves.
And may the light of our chalice remind us that this is
a community of warmth, of wisdom, and of welcome.
Hymn 62 (purple): ‘Here We Have Gathered’
Let’s sing together now. Our first hymn today is ‘Here We Have Gathered’. It’s number 62 in the purple 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: Here We Have Gathered.
Here we have gathered, gathered side by side;
circle of kinship, come and step inside!
May all who seek here find a kindly word;
may all who speak here feel they have been heard.
Sing now together this, our hearts’ own song.
Here we have gathered, called to celebrate
days of our lifetime, matters small and great:
we of all ages, women, children, men,
infants and sages, sharing what we can.
Sing now together this, our hearts’ own song.
Life has its battles, sorrows, and regret:
but in the shadows, let us not forget:
we who now gather know each other’s pain;
kindness can heal us: as we give, we gain.
Sing now in friendship this, our hearts’ own song.
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 Susan L. Suchocki
And let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer now. This prayer is based on some words by Susan L. Suchocki.
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)
Day by day, month by month, year by year
we are confronted with all that we do not know,
all that we do not understand, all that we do not grasp.
Life, with all its unexpected twists and turns, seems to be
beyond the comprehension of our human minds.
Sometimes we are humbled by this knowledge and say:
God, it is too glorious to comprehend, but we know this universe
is more grand and more beautiful than we ever could have imagined.
We give thanks for the blessing of simply being here
and seeing, hearing, experiencing, and sensing
all that is so wonderful, around and within.
Sometimes we are shocked and saddened by this knowledge and say:
God, Merciful Spirit, we need this burden of hurt and suffering to be taken from us.
Grant us the courage, the wisdom and fortitude to bear the pain of living.
Send us those who will help to carry our burdens for a short while, and those
who will comfort us with their healing words, and companionable presence.
Sometimes we are angered by this knowledge and say:
In the name of justice and compassion—if it be in our power—
give us the strength and ability to right the wrongs we witness in this life,
for no person in the world deserves to suffer so, including ourselves.
Sometimes we are made joyous by this knowledge and we say:
Spirit of Life who blesses our world, we rejoice for our precious life,
and we are grateful for all the unexpected gifts that have come our way.
Sometimes we are made curious by this knowledge and say:
Holy and inexplicable is this life — infinitely mysterious and beguiling –
please let us always continue to search for greater knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. (pause)
In a good few moments of shared silence now,
may we speak inwardly the deepest prayers of our hearts —
maybe something in our own life or the life of the world is weighing heavy on us –
maybe we are feeling full of gratitude, despite it all, and feel moved to give thanks for our blessings – let us lift up whatever is on our heart this day, and ask for what we most need. (long pause)
Spirit of Life – God of all Love – as this time of prayer comes to a close, we offer up
our joys and concerns, our hopes and fears, our beauty and brokenness,
and we call on you for insight, healing, and renewal.
As we look forward now to the coming week,
help us to live well each day and be our best selves;
using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice and peace. Amen
Hymn 39 (purple): ‘For the Splendour of Creation’
Let’s sing together now. Our next hymn is ‘For the Splendour of Creation’. If you’re here in-person it’s number 39 in your hymn books and the words will also be up on your screen to sing along at home. Please feel free to stand or sit, as you prefer, as we sing.
For the splendour of creation that draws us to inquire,
for the mystery of knowledge to which our hearts aspire,
for the deep and subtle beauties which delight the eye and ear,
for the discipline of logic, the struggle to be clear,
for the unexplained remainder, the puzzling and the odd:
for the joy and pain of learning, we give you thanks, O God.
For the scholars past and present whose bounty we digest,
for the teachers who inspire us to summon forth our best,
for our rivals and companions, sometimes foolish, sometimes wise,
for the human web upholding this noble enterprise,
for the common life that binds us through days that soar or plod:
for this place and for these people, we give you thanks, O God.
Reading: ‘Stung by Bees’ by Victoria Safford (read by Hannah)
A young child is stung by bees in a playground on a summer morning, joining the ranks of children everywhere. It’s her first time and she takes it very personally. Weeks after the fact, out of nowhere, she asks: “Why was I stung by bees?” “Why I was I stung by bees?” Her mind requires the why, she is not at peace with her vast unknowing, and she is only momentarily satisfied when for the 107th time I explain, “You were stung by bees because they happened to be on the climbing frame at exactly the same time as you.”
“Were they mean bees?” she says. I say no.
“Are bees bad?” I tell her no.
“Are they supposed to sting us?” I say, “Not exactly.”
“Well then, why was I stung by bees?”
She is a novice philosopher. For the moment, because she is only three years old, there is no way to explain random chance and luck and the doctrine of grace, no way to say, “Look. It just happened. You and the bees got there together, OK? It was just an accident.” She lives in the endless echoing of “why”. She relies, like many of us, on the illusion of cause and effect in this life to make sense of it, to get her bearings. There is no real way just yet to interest her as deeply in mystery and in the far more serious, echoing question, which is, “So what will you do now?”
Will you always be scared of bees? Do you still love to look at insects? Would you like to learn more about bees and wasps and hornets, or maybe steer clear for a while, move on to ants and beetles, a safer entomology? Shall we put up a sign to warn other children?
She’s trapped, as I so often am, in why it happened, and how. But so much more, so much worth wondering and pondering, lies in what will happen next.
Who made the world, the broken world, and why? Who made the suffering world, and why? Three-year-olds and theologians can chew these tired bones all day. But for me the real religious questions open wide and holy – exciting, dangerous, urgent, comforting, sustaining – when we accept the mystery and then move on or, reverently, move in.
The world was made – gorgeous, tender, broken, dangerous – we know not why.
How now shall we live in it, you and I and everyone?
Meditation: ‘Questions, Questions’
We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into the time of meditation I’m going to offer a few quotes – all on the theme of questioning and being curious – quotes to ponder. This will take us into a few minutes of shared silence which will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear some soothing meditation music from Sydney and Simon. So once again let’s each do what we need to do to get comfortable – adjust your position if you need to – put your feet flat on the floor to ground and steady yourself – close your eyes. As we always say, the words and music are an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
M. Basil Pennington said: ‘There are questions, lots of questions. And it is good to live in the question. A pat answer is closed, it is finished; that’s it. It goes nowhere and leaves little room for hope. A question, the mystery, opens the space for us. It is full of possibility. It gives hope of life and ever more abundant life. Our faith, solid as it might be, is full of questions. And therefore full of life and hope.’
Thubten Chodron said: ‘I believe that spiritual practice is more about holding questions than finding answers. Seeking one correct answer often comes from a wish to make life — which is basically fluid — into something certain and fixed. Holding a question — exploring its many facets over time — puts us in touch with the mystery of life.’
Saul Alinsky said: ‘Curiosity and irreverence go together. Curiosity asks, “Is this true?” “Just because this has always been the way, is it the best or right way of life, the best or right religion, political or economic value, morality?” (The questioner) rebels against any repression of a free, open search of ideas, no matter where they may lead.’
Albert Einstein said: ‘The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when contemplating the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvellous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day.’
And Thomas Merton said: ‘In the progress toward religious understanding, one does not go from answer to answer but from question to question.’
As we move into a time of silence now I invite you to ponder on the inquiring spirit in your own life.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Musical Interlude: 8 Pieces, Op. 39 for Violin and Cello – III. Berceuse – R. Glière – performed by Sydney Mariano and Simon Guémy
Reading: ‘The Importance of Being Interested’ by Robin Ince (excerpts, adapted)
The following is an excerpt from ‘The Importance of Being Interested’ by Robin Ince who, as well as being a writer, a comedian, and all-round good egg is known for presenting ‘The Infinite Monkey Cage’ – a long-running and popular science show on Radio 4 – with Brian Cox. He’s sufficiently popular among Unitarians that he’s previously been booked to do stand-up sets at two of our national gatherings, the FUSE festival and the GA annual meetings, in the not-too-distant past. In this book, which I read only recently and thought was marvellous, he reflects on conversations with scientists of many different stripes, focusing not so much on the content of their theories and experiments as the attitude of curiosity, wonder, and intellectual humility that underpins the best of them. He writes:
At the time of writing there have been 150 episodes of The Infinite Monkey Cage and it has covered everything from the theory of relativity and the Higgs Boson, to how science proves that it is best to eat a pear with a golden spoon, and how to speak fluent chimpanzee. I have spoken to Nobel Prize-winning geneticists, Apollo astronauts, undersea explorers and one wizard. Such work has often meant that I’m in the fortunate position of being the stupidest person in the room. It is not always good for the ego, but it is very good for my education.
W.H. Auden wrote that when he was in the company of scientists, he felt ‘like a shabby curate who has strayed by mistake into a drawing room of dukes’. I am pretty happy to be the shabby curate. I’ve got a wardrobe full of cardigans, and I come from a long line of vicars, so I have the ecumenical gene. The way the guests on the show explain and talk about science – the way they make it relevant to everything about my daily life, my existence here on this planet, the past, the present and the future – has rekindled my enthusiasm and widened my curiosity for a subject that died a death on the Bunsen burners of my youth… My mind has been repeatedly blown by the images and ideas offered by scientific thought and enquiry, and I am glad. I am getting used to doubt, and I am inspired by the seemingly inexplicable. A little knowledge is only a dangerous thing if you think it is enough knowledge. I believe that the deeper you explore science, the more our new knowledge creates rich stories, new enchantments and, rather than leaving us alone in a vast universe, connects us to everything.
As I talked to all the different contributors to this book, I have found the picture of the universe around me changing frequently. I think one of the purposes of bold human endeavours – whether scientific, philosophical, or artistic – is to change how we see what we see, and possibly change ourselves with that… Changing your mind is not always easy. But a common theme with the many I people I spoke to was the need for inquisitive humility rather than righteous brutality if we are to progress. And with that humility comes the need to interrogate yourself as much as you interrogate other people and to ask ‘why do I believe what I believe? What foundations am I standing on? And why do I favour them?’
Life becomes easier to live when you start to understand it, when you don’t ignore the questions, when you don’t try to paper over your confusions, but open up to them. By becoming acquainted with scientific curiosity, by learning and understanding from it, I believe we can be re-humanized. Perhaps we can be as beguiled by reality as we can be beguiled by myth, and we can find room for both.
Reflection: ‘Inquiring Minds’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
I’ve given today’s service the title ‘Inquiring Minds’, largely as a nod to The Inquirer, our Unitarian magazine which comes out once a fortnight. We always leave a little pile of copies out in the foyer – enough for everyone – and you’re welcome to take one home for free. Or, as I’m sure the editor and the Inquirer board would like me to remind you, you can subscribe to receive it direct to your doormat or indeed view electronic copies online at inquirer.org.uk.
The Inquirer’s first ever issue was published on 9th July 1842 which apparently makes it the longest-lived non-conformist paper in the world. The title underlines something about the very nature of our Unitarian movement, I reckon, and our self-understanding as Unitarians. We think of ourselves as people who ask questions, who dig deeper, people with Inquiring Minds. This curiosity – or, alternatively, this refusal to be satisfied with a superficial understanding of the world and how it works, this refusal to be fobbed off with pat answers or to follow the herd – this attitude is right there in the origin story of Unitarianism and baked into our (metaphorical) DNA. Think about old Theophilus Lindsey, who founded this congregation nearly 250 years ago, and who first left the Anglicans because he could not in good conscience just go along with the list of beliefs – the ‘thirty-nine articles’ of the church – that he was supposed to sign up to unquestioningly. For Unitarians, it seems to me, such commitment to questioning – and, like Lindsey, following through on the sometimes-disruptive implications of what we discover as a result of our inquiry (he gave up a secure life with the Anglicans to found the first Unitarian church) – such a commitment to asking questions, seeking deeper truth, and following wherever it may lead, is a central aspect of our faith.
The publication that actually sparked this morning’s choice of theme though was this one: ‘The Importance of Being Interested: Adventures in Scientific Curiosity’ by Robin Ince. I read it a few weeks ago and immediately found myself wanting to press it into people’s hands evangelically. But, in truth, I first approached it with a little bit of caution. For years Robin Ince – who started out as a comedian himself, though he intermittently claims to have retired from stand-up, and he’s created his own hard-to-define niche in science communication as the voice of the non-scientist alongside his scientific mates (most notably Brian Cox) – for years he put on a run of Christmas stage shows at the Bloomsbury Theatre, featuring comedians and scientists, called ‘Nine Lessons and Carols for Godless People’. These shows were widely lauded and featured loads of comedians and thinkers I would have loved to go and see. But at that time – as the title ‘Nine Lessons and Carols for Godless People’ indicated – many in this first wave of science-loving comics seemed to position themselves as being actively anti-religious, vocally scornful of religious people, caricaturing us as being (necessarily) anti-scientific and (implicitly) a bit dim. So although the line-up of these shows looked great, and many chums raved about them, I never went – I’m not a ‘Godless Person’ – and I didn’t want to go to a party where I wasn’t welcome.
However, in recent years, it seems that something has shifted. I noticed that in 2018 the long-running show changed its name to ‘Nine Lessons and Carols for Curious People’. That’s more like it! It seems to reflect a more nuanced view – an understanding and acknowledgement that there is no reason at all why science and religion have to be in opposition to one another – and indeed I might add that scientists haven’t got a monopoly on curiosity. I used to be a scientist of sorts, by the way; I studied physics and medical engineering in my twenties and I was still working as a researcher in radiological sciences at the time I first wandered into this church about twenty four years ago. So this notion that the scientific and religious worldviews are incompatible has always seemed silly to me.
Asking questions and being curious – being interested, as the book title goes – about the world around (and the world within us, and within others) is a vital part of a faithful and flourishing life. Not just questions about science and nature of course – questions of philosophy and theology, politics and economics, sociology and psychology – asking ‘why?’ and ‘how?’ and ‘what if?’ Let’s not take things at face value (or at least let’s not do that by default) but instead be ready to dig a little deeper – not as a kneejerk naysayer making flippant or bad-faith objections for sport – but in service of the truth and a more holistic understanding of the world and our place in it. There’s a place for healthy scepticism, for sure, but sometimes Scepticism can become a defensive – even hostile – position which, paradoxically, closes us off to whole realms of human wisdom.
And as Robin Ince said in the reading I just gave, it is important to be open to answers that might surprise us, insights that might shake our worldview, that might require everything else to shift round a bit to integrate each new understanding. If we genuinely seek the truth then we must be willing to question ourselves at least as much as we question others, asking ‘Why do I believe what I believe? What foundations am I standing on? And why do I favour them?’ The path of curiosity and inquiry is very often a path of transformation; as we change our minds we change our very selves.
In our first reading by Victoria Safford, which Hannah read for us earlier, the small child asks ‘Why was I stung by bees?’ I wonder how you would have responded to her question. Safford makes a valiant effort to answer but in the end all of her responses are unsatisfactory. It’s unanswerable.
And it seems to me that many of life’s biggest questions are similarly resistant to a satisfying answer – life itself is complex and mysterious (and a bit random) – often there isn’t a clear-cut chain of cause and effect. Which is not to say we shouldn’t keep asking the questions! Let’s not give up too lightly. But let’s bear in mind that we’re not always going to come to a satisfying answer. We will probably need to come up with a working hypothesis, a provisional answer, and keep refining it over time. Which of course is what scientists do! Many people have a false sense of scientific certainty; good sciences is rooted in inquisitive humility and depends on a willingness to think again and adjust. It can be psychologically unsettling to stay in this space of uncertainty – we might feel a yearning for conclusive resolution and definite answers to these questions of life, the universe, and everything – but let’s resist the temptation to claim greater certainty about our answers than is strictly justifiable!
Perhaps the most crucial religious question is this: How are we going to live in the not knowing? And of course I’m not going to offer a simple answer. It’s the question that lurks in the background, inevitably, each time we gather, and (to misquote Rilke) it’s the work of a lifetime to live into the answer. So let’s come back here next Sunday, and the next, to this gathering of inquiring minds, and keep on wrestling with these questions together. And to close I want to repeat the quote from M. Basil Pennington which I shared for our time of meditation. He said: ‘There are questions, lots of questions. And it is good to live in the question. A pat answer is closed, it is finished; that’s it. It goes nowhere and leaves little room for hope. A question, the mystery, opens the space for us. It is full of possibility. It gives hope of life and ever more abundant life. Our faith… is full of questions. And therefore full of life and hope.’ May it be so for the greater good of all. Amen.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘Praise the Source of Faith and Learning’
Time for our last hymn, ‘Praise the Source of Faith and Learning’, and we’re going to be singing it to a well-known and stirring tune courtesy of Beethoven. The words are on your hymn sheet and will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you feel moved. Let us sing.
Praise the source of faith and learning
that has sparked and stoked the mind
with a passion for discerning
how the world has been designed.
Let the sense of wonder flowing
from the wonders we survey
keep our faith forever growing
and renew our need to pray.
Source of wisdom, we acknowledge
that our science and our art
and the breadth of human knowledge
only partial truth impart.
Far beyond our calculation
lies a depth we cannot sound
where the purpose for creation
and the pulse of life are found.
May our faith redeem the blunder
of believing that our thought
has displaced the grounds for wonder
which the ancient prophets taught.
May our learning curb the error
which unthinking faith can breed
lest we justify some terror
with an antiquated creed.
Praise for minds to probe the heavens,
praise for strength to breathe the air,
praise for all that beauty leavens
praise for silence, music, prayer,
praise for justice and compassion
and for strangers, neighbours, friends,
praise for hearts and lips to fashion
praise for love that never ends.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Jeannene for co-hosting. Thanks to Andrew, Sydney, and Simon for stepping in at the last minute to play for us, and Benjie to help support our singing today – much appreciated. For those of you who are here in-person, Marianne will be serving refreshments (including bread pudding) after the service, if you want to stay and chat – thanks Marianne – thanks Juliet for greeting. There will be virtual coffee on Zoom with Jeannene so do hang around for a chat.
This afternoon there will be a special event at church put on by the LDPA (our London Unitarian District) and the ‘Seeds of Peace’ charity to mark Interfaith Harmony Week – there’ll be music, art, and storytelling – it will start at 2.30pm so you can pop out for lunch first and admission is free.
We have various small group activities for you to meet up. There are still spaces left for our Heart and Soul gatherings (online Sunday/Friday at 7pm) and this week’s theme is ‘Listening and Being Heard. Coffee morning is online at 10.30am Wednesday if you want to come along and chat.
This Wednesday at 7pm on Zoom you can join session two of our group discussing ‘Why Are We Here?’ on Unitarian mission. You don’t have to have been to the first one, they all stand alone, please drop me an email if you want to get the link for that and other information about it.
Our service next Sunday will be hybrid once again and Sarah Tinker will be leading the service. Her theme is ‘Love Wins?’ (with a question mark) which I guess is an oblique nod to Valentine’s Day. Details of all our events are on the back of the order of service and also in the Friday email.
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 Barbara Cheatham
And now we take our leave.
Before we gather here again–
may each of us bring happiness into another’s life;
may we each be surprised by the gifts that surround us;
may each of us be enlivened by constant curiosity —
And may we remain together in spirit
til the hour we meet again. Amen.
Closing Music: 8 Pieces, Op. 39 for Violin and Cello – V. Intermezzo – R. Glière – performed by Sydney Mariano and Simon Guémy
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
5th February 2023
