Pentecost for Unitarians – 28/05/23

May 27, 2023 · by kensin · in Uncategorized

Musical Prelude: ‘Ich stand in dunke ln Träumen’ – Clara Schumann (played by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)

Opening Words: ‘This Grace That Scorches Us: A Blessing for Pentecost’ by Jan Richardson

Here’s one thing
you must understand
about this blessing:
it is not
for you alone.

It is stubborn
about this.
Do not even try
to lay hold of it
if you are by yourself,
thinking you can carry it
on your own.

To bear this blessing,
you must first take yourself
to a place where everyone
does not look like you
or think like you,
a place where they do not
believe precisely as you believe,
where their thoughts
and ideas and gestures
are not exact echoes
of your own.

Bring your sorrow.
Bring your grief.
Bring your fear.
Bring your weariness,
your pain,
your disgust at how broken
the world is,
how fractured,
how fragmented
by its fighting,
its wars,
its hungers,
its penchant for power,
its ceaseless repetition
of the history it refuses
to rise above.

I will not tell you
this blessing will fix all that.

But in the place
where you have gathered,
wait.
Watch.
Listen.
Lay aside your inability
to be surprised,
your resistance to what you
do not understand.
See then whether this blessing
turns to flame on your tongue,
sets you to speaking
what you cannot fathom

or opens your ear
to a language
beyond your imagining
that comes as a knowing
in your bones,
a clarity
in your heart
that tells you

this is the reason
we were made:
for this ache
that finally opens us,

for this struggle,
this grace
that scorches us
toward one another
and into
the blazing day.

Words of Welcome and Introduction:

These opening words – a blessing for Pentecost by Jan Richardson – 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. For anyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Jane Blackall, and I’m Minister with Kensington Unitarians.

As you may have gathered, today is Pentecost Sunday – a day to reflect on some strange events recorded in the book of Acts – when a group of Jesus’ followers gathered together some time after his crucifixion – and all manner of astounding things were said to have happened. A violent wind blew, and tongues of fire came down, and they were filled with the Holy Spirit. They began to speak in unknown languages and – somehow – their prophetic message was understood by people of all nations who were gathered together in the crowd. It’s a strange story to the modern ear. But I reckon it is a story which has plenty of rich symbolism for us Unitarians to delve into and explore.

But before we go any further let’s take a moment to catch up with ourselves. Let’s remember why we came here this morning. We consecrate this hour with our presence and intention. So let’s each do whatever helps us to ground ourselves in the here and now. You might want to scrunch up your shoulders or your fists and, as you release them, consciously let go of anything you came in carrying. It’s possible to lay aside some of life’s palaver for the next hour and claim a little peace for ourselves.

Chalice Lighting: ‘For the Spirit of Divine Love’ by Stephanie Bisby

Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. This simple ritual connects us in solidarity with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proud and historic progressive religious tradition of which we are a part.

(light chalice)

We light our chalice with its tongue of fire
for the spirit of compassion which links us all,
deeper than language, creed or any other division
created by our human limitations of understanding.
For the spirit of divine love, in all and with all, we light our chalice.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘Gather Us In’

Let’s sing together now. Our first hymn is ‘Gather Us In’ – which speaks of the many different languages of faith – ways in which we humans reach out for meaning and purpose in life – it’s on your hymn sheet 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 Us In’.

Gather us in, O love that fillest all;
Gather all rival faiths within your fold;
Throughout the nations sound the clarion call;
Beneath Love’s banner all shall be enrolled!

Gather us in, we worship only thee;
In varied names we stretch a common hand;
In diverse forms a common soul we see;
In many ships we seek one promised land.

Yours is the mystic life, the way that saves;
Yours is the inspiration of our dreams;
Yours is the Buddhist’s rest from tossing waves;
Yours is the light within, one shining beam.

Yours is the Law that is the Jew’s life-guide;
Yours is the Christian’s faith, of love and grace;
Yours is the hope that will not be denied;
Yours is the message of a wider place.

Gather us in, O Love that fillest all;
Gather all rival faiths within your fold;
Throughout the nations, sound the clarion call:
Beneath Love’s banner all shall be enrolled!

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. Please do 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 and have it microphone pointing right at your mouth. And if you can’t get to the microphone give me a wave and I’ll bring it over to you. 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 is based on some words by 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.

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)

Let us remember the blessings of purpose
that we have received throughout our lives
when the fire of our soul burned brightly.
Those moments of clarity and insight when
our direction felt in line with a greater cause;
when the doors of hopeful possibility were
easy to see and even easier to open.
Those sudden moments of revelation
when even strangers felt like family.

We ask this day to have that clarity of Spirit come forth
into our lives again with the power of a mighty wind,
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 lives might be a beacon of true justice and liberating 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 courage and compassion
for whatever number of days ahead are still ours to claim. (pause)

In a few quiet moments let us take some time to pray inwardly the prayers of our own hearts;
calling to mind all those souls we know to be suffering this day, whether close to home, or on the other side of the world. Let us hold all these sacred beings in the light of love. (pause)

Let us also pray for ourselves; we too are sacred beings who face our own daily struggles and muddle through life’s ups and downs. So let us take a few moments to reflect on our own lives, and ask for what we most need this day – comfort, courage, or guidance – to flourish. (pause)

And let us take just a little longer to remember the good things in life and give thanks for them. Those moments in the past week where we’ve encountered kindness, beauty, pleasure, or fun.
Let us cultivate a spirit of gratitude as we recall all those moments that lifted our spirits. (pause)

Spirit of Life – God of all Love – as this time of prayer comes to a close, we offer up
our joys and concerns, our hopes and fears, our beauty and brokenness,
and we call on you for insight, healing, and renewal.

As we look forward now to the coming week,
help us to live well each day and be our best selves;
using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice and peace. Amen

Hymn (on sheet): ‘The Tides of the Spirit’

Let’s sing together now. Our next hymn is ‘The Tides of the Spirit’ – it’s on the other side of your hymn sheet, if you’re in the building, and the words will be up on screen in a moment – it’s not one we sing often so I’ll ask Andrew to play it through. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.

We come as we are to worship and pray,
Unsure of ourselves, unsure what to say
O may we be patient and willing to be
Receptive and open to hear and to see.

The God of our life is ever at hand
But not to be called by our proud command;
The tides of the spirit have their ebb and flow
And we must be patient and move as they go.

O let us be glad and hungry of heart
To wait upon God and learn our own part,
To give life the best of the powers we have
As servants of life and clear channels of love.

Video Reading: ‘The Holy Spirit Comes at Pentecost’ (Acts 2:1-21, 37-47) – The Message (read by Antony)

When the Feast of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Without warning there was a sound like a strong wind, gale force—no one could tell where it came from. It filled the whole building. Then, like a wildfire, the Holy Spirit spread through their ranks, and they started speaking in a number of different languages as the Spirit prompted them.

There were many Jews staying in Jerusalem just then, devout pilgrims from all over the world. When they heard the sound, they came on the run. Then when they heard, one after another, their own mother tongues being spoken, they were blown away. They couldn’t for the life of them figure out what was going on, and kept saying, “Aren’t these all Galileans? How come we’re hearing them talk in our various mother tongues?

Parthians, Medes, and Elamites; visitors from Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene; Immigrants from Rome, both Jews and proselytes; Even Cretans and Arabs!

“They’re speaking our languages, describing God’s mighty works!”

Their heads were spinning; they couldn’t make head or tail of any of it. They talked back and forth, confused: “What’s going on here?”

Others joked, “They’re drunk on cheap wine.”

That’s when Peter stood up and, backed by the other eleven, spoke out with bold urgency: “Fellow Jews, all of you who are visiting Jerusalem, listen carefully and get this story straight. These people aren’t drunk as some of you suspect. They haven’t had time to get drunk—it’s only nine o’clock in the morning. This is what the prophet Joel announced would happen:

“In the Last Days,” God says, “I will pour out my Spirit on every kind of people: Your sons will prophesy, also your daughters; Your young men will see visions, your old men dream dreams. When the time comes, I’ll pour out my Spirit on those who serve me, and they’ll prophesy…”

Cut to the quick, those who were there listening asked Peter and the other apostles, “Brothers! Brothers! So now what do we do?” Peter said, “Change your life. Turn to God and be baptized, each of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, so your sins are forgiven. Receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is targeted to you and your children, but also to all who are far away—whomever, in fact, our Master God invites.” He went on in this vein for a long time, urging them over and over, “Get out while you can; get out of this sick and stupid culture!” That day about three thousand took him at his word, were baptized and were signed up. They committed themselves to the teaching of the apostles, the life together, the common meal, and the prayers.

Everyone around was in awe—all those wonders and signs done through the apostles! And all the believers lived in a wonderful harmony, holding everything in common. They sold whatever they owned and pooled their resources so that each person’s need was met. They followed a daily discipline of worship in the Temple followed by meals at home, every meal a celebration, exuberant and joyful, as they praised God. People in general liked what they saw. Every day their number grew as God added those who were saved.

Meditation: ‘Our Mother-Tongue is Love’ by Malcolm Guite

Thanks Antony. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. I’m going to share a short poem, a sonnet by Malcolm Guite on the theme of Pentecost, titled ‘Our Mother-Tongue is Love’. We’ll take those words into a few minutes of silence which will end with the sound of a bell. And then we’ll hear some music for meditation from Holly and Andrew. 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 – or 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.

Today we feel the wind beneath our wings
Today the hidden fountain flows and plays
Today the church draws breath at last and sings
As every flame becomes a Tongue of praise.
This is the feast of fire, air, and water
Poured out and breathed and kindled into earth.
The earth herself awakens to her maker
And is translated out of death to birth.
The right words come today in their right order
And every word spells freedom and release
Today the gospel crosses every border
All tongues are loosened by the Prince of Peace
Today the lost are found in His translation.
Whose mother-tongue is Love, in every nation.

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

Musical Interlude: ‘Si vous n’avez rien à me dire’ – Camille Saint-Saens (played by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)

Reading: ‘Found in Translation’ by Robert Hardies (excerpts, adapted)

The Story of Pentecost is one of the most colourful stories from the Bible. It’s a story that, on first glance, may appear to have nothing to do with Unitarianism. But, on reflection, it has everything to do with Unitarianism and the world we find ourselves living in the early years of the 21st century.

It’s often said that the miracle of Pentecost is this Spirit-given ability to speak in tongues. The miracle of Pentecost is that here you have all these people talking about God in some strange tongue, but EVERYONE who is listening hears them in his or her OWN language.

What happened at Pentecost is sort of like what happens at the United Nations building. You know, one person speaks, but everyone else has those little earpieces on so they can hear in their own language… thanks to those frantic translators sitting in the glass booths. But in THIS story, it’s the Spirit that’s doing the translating. That’s the miracle. The miracle of Pentecost is not that a diverse group of people started talking about God in different languages, but that suddenly they all understood one another. The miracle is the understanding. Not the tongues, the understanding.

I think Pentecost is actually the creation myth of Unitarianism. I mean, think about it; think about this church. Here, are we not a diverse group of people, speaking about God in different languages? Are we not believers and agnostics? Don’t some of us pray, while others of us meditate? Isn’t Jesus central to some, while others have a fondness for the Buddha? Don’t some of our families celebrate Passover while others honour Easter? Aren’t we just like the folks at Pentecost? A quirky mix of people, all jabbering away in our unique tongues, all trying to make sense out of life?

Yet we come together with a Pentecost faith that though we speak many tongues, we will all be understood. We will all understand. We come together with the faith that spiritual diversity is not a hindrance to our spiritual growth, but rather an asset. That because of the multiplicity of our experiences and our languages, we will discover a fuller — a richer — sense of the Spirit.

We live in the age of many languages. And some fear that God can get watered down in translation from one language to another. But it is our faith that God gets more multi-faceted in translation. Some fear that the Spirit is lost in translation. We have faith that the Spirit is found in translation.

For me, that faith is confirmed as I look around the church and see people in the small groups I’ve observed. I’ve seen them come around a table from radically different perspectives and commit to listening and understanding. They commit to a Pentecost discipline. And what is so gratifying are the moments when the understanding happens across difference. You can feel it when those moments happen. You can feel the “ah-ha” moment. You can feel a sense of connection in the room. You can see it on people’s faces. That’s the miracle of Pentecost happening all over again.

Reflection: ‘Pentecost for Unitarians’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

These days, people quite frequently ask me to explain what Unitarianism is, and how it relates to the Christian tradition, and other better-known religious paths. All sorts of people ask; often in settings where we don’t have a lot of time to talk and we know we’ll probably never meet again.

On days when I get a taxi home from church the cab driver will almost invariably ask “what sort of church is that then?” (and often they’ll follow up with something that amounts to “is it a proper church or just one you made up?”… which is a conversation for another day perhaps).

And just this week we had a bunch of medics from the Physician Response Unit in our living room – this is the mobile A&E team which more usually follows the air ambulance around as a ground crew – they were sent out to give my dad, who is in the midst of immunotherapy, some treatment at home (so as to avoid taking him into hospital where he would be at increased risk of infection). And while they were doing their thing – marvellously, miraculously taking care of my old man – one of them struck up a conversation which rapidly took us deep into the same territory. Remarkably, this paramedic had heard of Unitarians, he had some thoughtful questions to ask about our way of doing things, and (without prompting) he noted the similarities between our outlook and his own.

And in the last few days I also had a string of emails from an inquirer looking for a spiritual community and asking about our position in relation to Christianity and to other faiths. I did my best to answer. But none of these conversations lend themselves to a simple one-size-fits-all response I can just trot out. Everyone brings their own experience and prior understanding to the question, they have their own concerns about life and the living of it, and I need to try and tune in to all that context and subtext – as best I can – if I’m to do a good job of representing our Unitarian faith to others, and do so authentically, while framing my answer in a way they are likely to be able to hear, understand, and connect with.

The piece I just shared, ‘Found in Translation’ by Robert Hardies, has something to say about all this, I reckon. The sermon that it came from was preached nearly 20 years ago now – I must’ve first read it not long after that – I know it made a big impression on me (especially his claim that ‘Pentecost is the creation myth of Unitarianism’) and shaped my subsequent understanding of how we Unitarians use religious language and symbolism, how we must practice ‘translation’ in order to get over barriers of resistance and incomprehension, and how we make a habit of reaching out to each other across apparent differences in language and culture, knowing we will all be enriched by the exchange.

I wonder, what did you hear in the story of Pentecost, from the Book of Acts, that Antony read for us earlier? What resonances does it hold for you? What leapt out of it as an insight you will take away?

Today we heard a modern rendering of the story, taken from ‘The Message’, quite a free translation. Still, some of the language might come across as jarring or alien to Unitarian ears. Maybe you tense up on hearing the call to turn to God, and change our life, so that our sins might be forgiven, or the pronouncement that the spirit will come down upon ‘every kind of people’ and cause us to prophesy. Perhaps, quite understandably, you associate this sort of language with other churches, encounters with other religious traditions, that have been hurtful or even traumatic for you personally in the past. This sort of resistance is entirely legitimate and perhaps some of us just can’t go there. Not today.

But I’m going to encourage us to play with the text, with the story, and try this practice of ‘translation’ together. Let us reach out across time to the people who were there, having that experience, and to those who originally handed it down, then wrote it down, then translated it again and again, until this rendition of this particular – strange – story reached our ears and eyes (and mind and heart) today. What can we connect with, in this tale of Pentecost, despite the gulf between their context and ours? I often say that Unitarians ‘seek wisdom from wherever it can be found’ and, for all their flaws, and complex baggage, ancient texts are a valuable source of collected human experience we can draw on. So what can we draw out of it, learn from it, to help us live our lives here and now, in the 21st century?

One thing I take from the Pentecost story is that God speaks in a multitude of languages to human beings. Of course, the word ‘God’ itself may be an obstacle to some! Feel free to translate to ‘Love’, or ‘Spirit’, or ‘the Cosmos’ or ‘The Good’ (as favoured by Iris Murdoch) perhaps and see if the story makes more sense to you that way. So: God, or Love, or the Spirit, or the Cosmos, or The Good, speaks in a multitude of languages to human beings. We humans have such a diverse range of personalities, temperaments, learning styles, preferences – however you want to characterise it – and are situated in contexts shaped by culture, history, geography, climate, and so much more. Inevitably we each have a ‘mother tongue’ – metaphorically speaking – a default way of understanding the world and speaking about it that we’ve grown up with. Even if we weren’t brought up in any particular religious tradition, we will each have our own unique approach to interpreting the world as we move through it, our own way of seeing and engaging with life’s ultimate questions, and speaking about such matters too. There are very many religious and spiritual paths, each rich and transformative, that can and should coexist. There’s not just one right way. Which is not to say that ‘anything goes’!… rather that some deep truths about life and how to live it can (and must) be expressed and communicated in diverse ways. In the Pentecost story one unified reality is channelled, heard, and understood by each in their own tongue.

This leads on to another learning I take from the story: That there’s a lot to be said for being religiously bilingual – even multi-lingual – yes, we each have our ‘mother tongue’, the mode of expression which comes most naturally to us, both in our speaking and our listening – but if we extend ourselves a bit towards others, if we work to become at least conversant in alternate forms of religious language,
this will almost certainly open us up to whole new worlds of wisdom, understanding, and connection. Something that comes up a lot in Unitarian circles is that some of us struggle with God-language – perhaps we’ve got a particular understanding of what ‘God’ means, and we’re sure it’s something we don’t believe in, so we object to using it at all – perhaps we are still working out our own theology and we’re hesitant to dabble in such language when others seem so much more certain about what it means than we are. But, ultimately, people on both sides of this language-divide are involved in the same sincere and pressing questions about truth, meaning and purpose, about life and how to live it. It is important that we don’t let our differing languages become a barrier to sharing in the struggle. Instead, let us make a habit of reaching out, beyond our little niche, in a spirit of curiosity and humility, and seeking to engage with other ways of speaking about the things that matter most in life. It may be that what we hear seems strange, even implausible, or simply hard to comprehend, but often it is possible to sift what we hear for the fragments of wisdom it will so frequently contain.

The third and final thing that I want to draw out about Pentecost is this: for me, this is not primarily the story of a supernatural miracle, a tale of people somehow temporarily taken over by the Spirit, which enabled them to speak in unfamiliar languages and pass on a special telegram from God. In a way, the important bit is what happened next, when the crowd cried out “So now what do we do?” What do we do? And, in answer, we can look to what they did at least as much as what they said. This group of Jesus’ followers came together in community in a way that ‘walked the talk’ of his teachings and example – they urged the people around them to change their lives, to reject the ‘sick and stupid’ prevailing culture of their day, and its oppressive ways – and they tried to live in a new way, seeking to coexist in harmony, and sharing their resources, so that everyone’s needs were met. They ate together. They worshipped together. These people were fired up by the Spirit, filled with conviction and zeal, and with the desire to pass it on – to share this good thing they had found – in an open-hearted way. And people – some people, at least – liked what they saw. And began to join them in this new way of living. That’s a story that inspires me and gives me hope. It speaks to the world we are living in, and the challenges that are facing us now, nearly 2000 years on.

As I draw this short reflection to a close I am going to repeat my invitation and encouragement to you – to reflect on what you heard in the story – and what insights you are going to take away. And I’m going to end with an echo of our opening words from Jan Richardson and her Blessing for Pentecost.

In the place where you have gathered, Wait.
Watch. Listen. Lay aside your inability to be surprised,
your resistance to what you do not understand.

See then whether this blessing turns to flame on your tongue,
sets you to speaking what you cannot fathom

or opens your ear to a language beyond your imagining
that comes as a knowing in your bones,
a clarity in your heart that tells you
this is the reason we were made: for this ache that finally opens us,

for this struggle, this grace, that scorches us
toward one another and into the blazing day.

May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.

Hymn 42 (purple): ‘The Fire of Commitment’

Time for our last hymn (by request of Charlotte), it’s number 42 in your hymn books, a stirring tune with twiddly bits which goes at quite a pace, and the words will also be up on screen as usual: ‘The Fire of Commitment’ AKA ‘From the Light of Days Remembered’. Again feel free to sit or stand as you wish.

From the light of days remembered
burns a beacon bright and clear,
Guiding hands and hearts and spirits
into faith set free from fear.

When the fire of commitment sets our mind and soul ablaze;
When our hunger and our passion meet to call us on our way;
When we live with deep assurance of the flame that burns within,
Then our promise finds fulfilment and our future can begin.

From the stories of our living
rings a song both brave and free,
Calling pilgrims still to witness
to the life of liberty.

From the dreams of youthful vision
comes a new, prophetic voice,
Which demands a deeper justice
built by our courageous choice.

Sharing of News, Announcements, Introductions

Thanks to Jeannene for tech-hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Antony for reading. Thanks to Holly and Andrew for today’s lovely music. For those of you who are at church in-person, Marianne will be serving coffee, tea and biscuits in the hall after the service (plus raspberry madeira cake), if you want to stay for refreshments – thanks Marianne – thanks Julia for greeting.

We have various small group activities for you to meet up. If you’re here in-person please do stay on for Margaret’s singing class from noon. There are still spaces left for our online Heart and Soul contemplative spiritual gatherings (Sunday/Friday at 7pm) and this week’s theme is ‘Encounter’.

We’ll be back next Sunday will another hybrid service. Details of all our various activities 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 Brian Kiely

We are about to extinguish our chalice candle, but the flame will live on,
in the minds and hearts and souls of each and every one of us,
calling us to lives of compassion, justice, and liberating love.

So carry that flame with you as you leave this sacred gathering,
and share it with those you know, with those you love,
and with those you have yet to meet along the way.

May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.

Closing Music: ‘IV: Menuetto; Allegretto from Wind Serenade No.10 in Bb’, arr. for bassoon and piano – W.A. Mozart (played by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

28th May 2023