Signs of Life – 2/4/23

Musical Prelude: Duet in D for 2 Cellos – Joseph Haydn – played by Abby Lorimier & Jenny Sturt

Opening Words: ‘Day of Promise’ by Robert T. Weston (adapted)

Here is a day of promise!
May it be so with every one.

The grey clouds scudding overhead,
The storm clouds, rain, and the breaking sunshine,
The blossoms bursting in pink and white,
The children splashing in puddles,
The grass greening, the buds
Straining into leaves on shrubs and trees,
And the birds singing, joyfully, in the dawn.

Everywhere life, life bursting through all fetters,
And the heart singing, protesting against gloom,
Shouting its defiance of clouds and cold;
The gay heart exulting in storm and sunshine alike.

This is a day that aches with the promise of life,
Life which will not be denied.
Let all hearts swell with glad acceptance,
Joyful with the sense of the always becoming.

For out of earth, into the air of sunshine, out of our deepest selves,
There rises a defiant spirit in the human heart.
Neither dark nor threat shall thrust it down.
It rises irresistible in us. And this is the season’s gift.

So in this hour of worship let us cherish and celebrate the season,
and all those signs of life we might notice emerging in our lives.

Words of Welcome and Introduction:

These opening words, adapted from a poem by Robert T. Weston, welcome all 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 our friends in Brighton Unitarians – it’s good to have you with us again). For anyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Jane Blackall, and I’m ministry coordinator with Kensington Unitarians.

Today’s service is titled ‘Signs of Life’ and in the next hour we’ll be reflecting on the coming spring and all we might learn from this season of renewal. Where can we sense a bit of hope emerging from the hard ground? What new energies are pushing their way up through the leaf litter and compost of our lives? What fresh possibilities are budding and making themselves known to us? As an aside, after Friday’s downpours, I was pleased to see that next week’s weather forecast looks much more sunny and springlike here in London, otherwise today’s theme would felt a bit ill-timed.

Before we go any further let’s make sure we’re all really here. Our bodies have made it to the church building, or to the computer and the zoom room, but let’s make sure our spirits have arrived as well. Let’s ground ourselves as best we can – and you’ll know how best to do that for yourself – maybe you can wiggle and stretch – maybe consciously put your feet on the floor – take a few conscious breaths. If you’ve come in carrying anxieties or aggravations perhaps you can gently set them aside for now. Because we are here to worship. To give an hour’s attention that which matters most in this life.

Chalice Lighting: ‘The Pulse of Life’ by Mark Mosher DeWolfe (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)

Our chalice is lit. Let us rest for a moment
to feel the pulse of life moving through our bodies.
With each breath, we can return to an awareness of that life force,
That sense of energy, movement, and connection; the Spirit of Life in us.

We are not isolated, we are alive, with every green and every moving thing.
Life vibrates within us, and here, together, we amplify the Spirit of Life.

Spring lives within us every day, Sometimes asleep,
sometimes awakening, sometimes vibrant with life.
The awakening of life happens not just in the world,
but in us, for we are of the world, and of the seasons.
And now is the time for awakening life. Though time of frost is past.

So let us awaken to life, to wholeness, to holiness, to health. Together.

Hymn 43 (purple): ‘Gather the Spirit’

Let’s sing together now. Our first hymn is number 43 in the purple hymnbooks if you’re in church and for those joining via Zoom the words will be up on your screen to sing along at home. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer as we sing: ‘Gather the Spirit’.

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, 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.

If you want to come up and share a joy or a concern we ask you to go to the free standing microphone. If you want to take your mask off to do this you now can, though you don’t have to, and I’ll take care of the actual lighting of the candle for you over here. Please do still get up close to the microphone as that will help everyone hear (including the people at home). You can take the microphone out of the stand if it’s not at a good height for you – it’s still going to be important to speak up – and have the microphone pointing right at your mouth. 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 Daniel E. Budd

And let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer now. This prayer is based on some words by Daniel Budd. You might first want to adjust your position for comfort, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever works for you. Do whatever you need to do to get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – to be fully present here and now, in this sacred time and space – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us. (pause)

Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being,
we turn our full attention to you, the light within and without,
as we tune in to the depths of this life, and the greater wisdom
to which – and through which – we are all intimately connected.
Be with us now as we allow ourselves to drop into the
silence and stillness at the very centre of our being. (pause)

We have come to this day, as we have come to
many moments in our lives, in the hope of renewal.

We see around us the faint renewal of Nature:
The seedlings pushing up between pavement cracks,
The freshening green grass in parks and verges,
The buds emerging on bushes and trees,
The sun slowly climbing higher in the sky.

And within us, we feel the quiet urgings for our own renewal,
An uprising which joins us with the joy of the earth
Once again ready to bloom with life.

Let this be our comfort and inspiration:
That Life continually renews itself,
And that we are able to join in it
With our own wonder-filled growing.

Now is a time when we would pray to the Spirit of Life,
When we would revere it as holy and sacred,
When we would hope for it to be evident in every human being,
That our earth may be a place of true justice and peace. (short pause)

We give thanks for our daily food and sustenance,
For that all of the earth which, through its sacrifice,
Continually renews us, and enables us to go on living.

We remember and acknowledge our mistakes and failings,
And reach for the strength to forgive ourselves for them,
As we would forgive those who have in some way
Been unkind to us – short of temper and sharp of tongue.

We would hope not to be fooled by some illusion of life,
And tricked into denying what is truly real;
Yet should we thus fall,
We pray for the inner strength and the love of others
To help us back on our feet again.

Now is the time when we would clearly see the wonder of life,
Its power and glory, and that even though things die,
Life itself goes on, eternal and everlasting.

May we know that we touch something like immortality
When we know this deep truth with our heart of hearts.

May the life which is in us and among us fill us to overflowing,
So that we may be fully human, and know that which is fully Divine. (short pause)

And 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 each 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 109 (purple): ‘Now the Green Blade Riseth’

Let’s sing together now. This is a lovely hymn – it brings together the spring imagery with the Easter story (so perhaps we’re singing it a week too early but it seemed appropriate for ‘Signs of Life’) – it’s ‘Now the Green Blade Riseth’ which is number 109 in your purple books and the words will be up on screen in a moment. Once again feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.

Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,
wheat that in dark earth many days has lain;
Love lives again, that with the dead has been:
Love is come again,
like wheat that springeth green

In the grave they laid him, Love by hatred slain,
thinking that never he would wake again,
laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen:
Love is come again,
like wheat that springeth green

Forth he came at Easter, like the risen grain,
he that for three days in the grave had lain,
quick from the dead my risen Lord is seen:
Love is come again,
like wheat that springeth green

When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
Love’s touch can call us back to life again,
fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:
Love is come again,
like wheat that springeth green

Reading: ‘Spring Blessings’ by Frank Walker (slightly adapted) – read by Juliet

We meet together at a time when the earth is renewing herself: peacefully, marvellously,
victoriously. No power on earth may push back this triumphant tide of life.
The light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for our eyes to behold the sun.

As we respond to the joyful rhythm of the season,
we are grateful that we ourselves are part of this great and glorious ordering.
We know that we are maintained by the energy that awakens in myriad forms of life
with a generosity that we may never fully measure or understand.

We are grateful, too, for the unnumbered processes within us
which we do not have to control but which of their own accord,
unconsciously, work together in harmony to make possible our lives.

All unseen, the goodness of the air blesses every cell and fibre of our bodies,
while silently our blood circulates through our veins, food strengthens us,
and water, so humble and precious and clean, daily bestows its vital blessings.

We remind ourselves that we are part of the ceaseless web of life,
part of the harmony in the eternal song of praise: and we resolve not to break,
through stupidity, carelessness or greed, the lovely and delicate strands of life’s web;
not to bring discord and ugliness into the music of life. When we bring these things to mind,
we begin to understand that in the divine will is our peace,
for the sense that the love that rises so falteringly in us
is likened to the love that moves the sun and other stars.

At the same time as we behold a vision of glory, we are ashamed of our own failings.
We have the gift of awareness: we know when we have done wrong,
missed the mark, strengthened the power of evil in this world.

So we pray for the cleansing, healing strength of good will,
that our powers of thought, imagine and speech may be well-used.
We pray for the power to communicate, not in words alone, but in our daily life.
We have messages to give, welling up from the depths of our lives,
living words that only we can speak, loving deeds that only we can do.

Grant above all, that our communications may be like the sowing of seeds,
and that those who receive them may look to a fine harvest.

May we notice and appreciate all these signs of life this spring.

Meditation: ‘Listening to Spring’ by Macrina Wiederkehr

Thanks Juliet. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. Our words for meditation are a poem called ‘Listening to Spring’ by Macrina Wiederkehr. This poem has a refrain which you might like to join in with speaking – between every verse she repeats the words ‘I am listening’ – I’ll ask Ramona to put the words up on screen so you know when to join in with the refrain if you’d like to. After the poem we’ll move into a few minutes of silence for personal reflection which will end with the sound of a bell. Perhaps during the silence you might go on listening – listening for ‘signs of life’ perhaps – where is that spring-like energy in your own life right now? And then we’ll hear some meditative music from Abby and Jenny. 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.

‘Listening to Spring’ by Macrina Wiederkehr

How quietly the earth breathes forth new life.
How eagerly the sun bleeds forth the spring,

I am listening.

I am listening to the seeds breaking open,
to roots growing strong beneath the ground,
to green shoots rising up from winter wombs.
I am listening to thorns blossoming,
to barren branches laughing out new growth,
to wildflowers dancing through the meadows.

I am listening.

I am listening to the forest filling up with song.
I am listening to the earth filling up with life.
I am listening to the trees filling up with leaves.

I am listening.

I am listening to the sky with its many changing moods,
to flashes of lightning, peals of thunder,
to opening buds and greening grass.
I am listening to the breaking forth of light
in the vestibule of dawn.
I am listening to the freshness of the morning.

I am listening.

I am listening to the rain drops
giving hope to thirsty gardens.
I am listening to the orchards
pregnant with new life.
I am listening to the flowers
bursting forth in rainbow colours.

I am listening.

I am listening to the brook,
to the song of happy waters.
I am listening to music
rising up from all the earth.
I am listening to spring
soaring in on wings of life.
I am listening to the sounds of spring.

I am listening.

I am listening to prayers
pouring forth from feathered throats.
I am listening to prayers
rising up from misty waters.
I am listening to prayers
of a meadow crowned with dawn.

I am listening.

I am listening to the growing
in the garden of my heart.
I am listening to my heart
singing songs of resurrection.
I am listening to the colours of life.

I am listening.

I am listening to winter
handing over spring.
I am listening to the poetry of spring.

I am listening.

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

Musical Interlude: ‘The Water Is Wide’ (Scottish Traditional) played by Abby Lorimier and Jenny Sturt

Reading: ‘We Have Many Springs’ by Kate Brady McKenna – read by Brian

We have many Springs. We see the promise of Spring even in November. Spring, from November. That promise is given to us more clearly in January. And we see it in February, at Imbolc in the beginning, and in the middle, when the geese arrive back on the lake. In early March, the news tells us we are in meteorological Spring. And in late March, Spring is shown to us again, when the Vernal Equinox, and the ‘springing forward’ let us feel Spring, and the coming of April proves to us that it’s here. We feel the delight of Spring even into May. Spring from November, Spring until May.

We have many Springs. It’s dates in the calendar, and it is not dates in the Calendar. It has everything to do with the weather, and it has little to do with the weather. it is the warmth of the sun, and it is lightness and it is temperature. It is the longer days. It is high blue skies and white clouds. It is a quality in the air. It is a feeling, a feeling we know and which goes beyond words. It is a taste, a freshness, a clarity in the air. It is the desire to stop and breathe in, rather than the need to put your face in your scarf and rush. It is a smell; it is a sort of feeling. A fresh coldness different from the winter’s cold. A scent, of new beginnings.

We have many Springs. It is when we don’t have to defrost the car. It is Creme Eggs in the shop. It’s leaving our hat, our scarf, our gloves, our big coat at home. It’s watching Punxsutawney Phil, the groundhog, believing he might predict the weather, and knowing he won’t. It’s wearing a tee-shirt outside. It’s drying the washing outside. It’s swimming, outside, in water warmer than your cold tap. It is lunch on the garden bench, and it is tea in the light. It is getting up in the light and driving home without the car lights on. It is evenings which are light, despite the snow and hail.

We have many Springs. We see it in birds as they start to fly to-and-fro with twigs, ready to build their nests; as they sing their hearts out; as they feed from our garden feeders; and we see it with the first evening sighting of a rabbit. The frogs in the pond and the lambs in the fields tell us that Spring is here. We see it in snowdrops – beautiful winter flowers, but winter flowers carrying to us the news that hellebores are not far behind, and daffodils and crocuses and primroses, and tulips, and scyllas are following them. It is knowing there will be bluebells. We see it in trees as they bud, we see it in catkins, we taste it in when we nibble fresh hawthorn leaves. Far from home, it is the flowering of tulip trees. We see it in the ground as the garlic springs forth, reminding us that the earth will feed us.

We have many Springs. We feel it in our very souls. We feel it when we think of Aslan on the move. And it is intuition: we know it in our body and our spirit. It is the lifting of our hearts. Lift up your hearts! We lift them up unto the sun. We feel it when we start to expect, rather than to plod. It is Lent, it is Candlemas, it is Easter, and like Easter, it moves. It is Imbolc, it is St Brigid, it is the equinox. We have many Springs.

An Invitation to Notice ‘Signs of Life’

Thanks Brian. Today’s service has been all about noticing the spring as it unfolds around us – and also making connections with the inner spring – the signs of hope, and renewal, and new growth in our own life, the life of our loved ones, the life of our community, and the wider world beyond.

So as the service is drawing towards a close I thought I’d send you away with some homework! Entirely optional, of course, it’s an invitation not an obligation. For those of you who are in the church here in Kensington you’ll find a little handout in your order of service – for those of you who are joining online I hope Jeannene will have put a link in the text box – and for those in Brighton I have sent a copy of this to Cat and Stuart (or do get in touch and I’ll send it to you).

One of the things that I was taught to ask in Spiritual Direction is ‘what makes you come alive?’ or ‘when do you feel most alive?’ – questions that get at something deeper, perhaps – where are good things happening, what are you meant to be doing, where are you in alignment with your purpose – sometimes I ask the slightly clumsy version ‘where is the Life in your life right now?’ (as in where is Life with a capital L – the Spirit of Life itself – expressing itself through your particular existence? All of these are good questions to ask in spring, to take stock, in this season of renewal. If you are at ease with God-language you might ask more directly: ‘where is the Spirit moving?’ or ‘where might God be leading you right now?’ which are more-or-less the same question I reckon.

So this little handout simply says: “This spring, why not take some time to notice all the ‘Signs of Life’ that are emerging around and within you – small changes and shifts that signify hope, renewal, new growth in your own life – or the life of the wider world. Pay careful attention. Where is the Spirit of Life quietly (or extravagantly) at work in this season? As you recognise or recall signs of life you can note them below.” Maybe you’ll find that some signs of life come to mind immediately and you can start filling it in, at least a few of the boxes, straight away. Or you could pin it to your fridge or tuck it away in your bus pass and fill it in through the coming week.

If you’re going through a particularly tough time right now – as many of us are, for many reasons – you might struggle to think of anything to start off with. But persist, if you can, and be on the lookout for even the smallest signs of hope and transformation – the equivalent of the rogue hollyhock that has self-seeded between the paving stones on my garden path – the little fern clinging on halfway up a brick wall – or the bold buddleia popping up in a derelict bit of wasteland. Where is there a sense of possibility? What can we feel good about? What are we drawn toward? However small the signs might be, it’s good to notice them, and take encouragement where we can.

So as I send you off with your homework I want to offer a tiny spring blessing by Jennifer McGlothin:

As the first hint of green begins to peek through the barren ground,
As that little sprig grows into a healthy stem,
As that stem grows into a stalk and forms a bud,
As that bud slowly opens with each new day,
To form a yellow daffodil,
Let us be, like that first hint of green, renewed by the warm of the sun’s rays,
And ready to emerge with a new energy, hopeful,
ready to face the spring days to come. Amen.

Hymn 63 (purple): ‘Hope is Born in Springtime’

Time for our last hymn, it’s not one we sing often, but it’s to quite a well-known tune I think (or at least an easy one to pick up). It’s number 63 in your hymn books, and the words will also be up on screen as usual, ‘Hope is Born in Springtime’. Again feel free to sit our stand as you prefer.

Hope is born in springtime though the cold wind chills;
hope as strong as snowdrops, gold as daffodils.
Hope be in our planting, hope be in our prayer,
be the key that opens hearts to greet the year.

Summer bids us welcome, strong and brave and bright;
warms us with her sunshine, cheers us with her light.
Sudden storm, then silence; feel the pulse of power;
everywhere around her, springtime buds in flower.

Autumn’s golden glory seems to hold the sun;
singing through the cornfields “Look what God has done –
ripened field and fruit trees, filled your barns with grain,
seeds for next year’s sowing harvested again.”

Patient winter teaches we must sometimes pause;
listen to the silence, learn the living laws.
Gather strength in quietness, ponder nature’s ways;
still our souls with praying, lift our hearts with praise.

Though the years may bring us sadness, gladness, strife;
birth and growth and living make the joys of life.
Count the many blessings of our daily lives;
then, through joy and sorrow, all that’s good survives.

Sharing of News, Announcements, Introductions

Thanks to Juliet and Brian for reading today. Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Jeannene for co-hosting at home. Thanks to Abby, Jenny and Peter for playing lovely music. For those of you who are here in-person, Liz will be serving coffee, tea and biscuits in the hall after the service (plus fancy caramel cake), if you want to stay for refreshments – thanks Liz for doing that and thanks to Juliet for greeting today. There will be virtual coffee on Zoom too with Jeannene so do hang around for a chat.

We have various small group activities for you to meet up during the week. There are still spaces left for our Heart and Soul contemplative spiritual gatherings (online Sunday/Friday at 7pm) and this week’s theme is ‘Generations’. Coffee morning is online at 10.30am Wednesday as usual.

The in-person poetry group is meeting this Wednesday evening – have a chat with Brian and let him know your poetry choices if you want to get involved with that – a popular and sociable event. And it’s our Easter Sunday service next week when we’ll have a special treat with music from our quartet.

Looking further ahead you might like to come for an outing to Mudchute Farm on 19th April – that’s a Wednesday morning and we’ll be doing that instead of our coffee morning that week – if you might be interested in walks or cultural outings at other times of the week do let me know and I’ll put you in touch with others so you can get together and organise things at a time that suit you. Details of all our various activities are on the back of the order of service and 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 Terasa Cooley

In these early days of spring let us allow ourselves to extend the anticipation
—to value the time of budding before blooming, of seeding before sprouting.

For this is a time of revelation: the revealing of that which is eternal,
which we see every year, but still need to be reminded to see it in a new way.

Every spring we encounter something never before seen.
It is that very newness – these fresh signs of life – which give encouragement –
which embody hope and potential for the renewal and wholeness which is yet to be.

So, in the days to come, let us allow spring to unfold slowly,
that we may notice and appreciate the true mystery and grace
of this season. And may it be so for the greater good of all. Amen.

Closing Music: Huapango for 2 Cellos – Samuel Maynez Vidal – played by Abby Lorimier and Jenny Sturt

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

2nd April 2023