Sacred Places – 08/10/23

Musical Prelude: London Trio in C major by Joseph Haydn – Allegro Moderato (played by Abby Lorimer (Cello) Xinye Wang (Violin) Gavin Stewart (Flute))

Opening Words: ‘Welcome to this Place’ by Cathy Rion Starr

Welcome to this place of peace;
May we find some moments of quiet contemplation.

Welcome to this place of celebration;
May our hearts soar with gratitude for the gift of life.

Welcome to this place of sacred love;
May we gently hold all that is broken here.

Welcome to this place of inquiry;
Here, may we be challenged to open our minds and hearts.

Come into this place of community;
May we, together, draw the circle of love and justice ever wider.

Welcome to this sacred place;
Come, let us worship, celebrate, grieve, and love together. (pause)

Words of Welcome and Introduction:

These opening words – by Cathy Rion Starr – welcome all those who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those of you who have gathered in-person at Essex Church and also to all who are joining us via Zoom from far and wide. For anyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Patricia Brewerton, and I’m a member of this congregation, Kensington Unitarians.

This morning’s service is on the theme of ‘Sacred Places’. As it’s a congregational service we’re going to hear reflections on the theme from four members of the congregation – Charlotte Chanteloup, Alex Brianson, Pat Gregory, and Julia Alden (it was Julia who suggested this topic in the first place) – each of whom is going to share something about a special place that is particularly sacred to them. And there’s an invitation for each of us to call to mind those spaces that are sacred to us too.

As we often say here – we make this hour sacred with our presence and intention – so let’s take a moment, before we go any further this day, to recall what our intention is, as we gather here again. We join together as a gathered spiritual community, travelling from all over London and beyond, and sitting down at our screens in places all over the world, to co-create something special together. A space where we can take time out from the hurly-burly and focus on what matters most in life. So let’s take a few breaths to ground and centre ourselves. Let’s prepare our hearts to worship.

Chalice Lighting: ‘May the Flame Burn True and High and Strong’ by Beatrice Hitchcock

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)

The flaming chalice is the symbol of our faith.
It is an everlasting flame for this community.
It offers its warmth to those who are cold.
It provides light to those who would see.
It transforms this sanctuary into sacred space,
this congregation into sacred community.
May its flame burn true and high and strong.

Hymn 194 (purple): ‘We Light the Flame’

Let’s sing together now. Our first hymn is number 194 in the purple hymn book: ‘We Light the Flame’. 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.

We light the flame that kindles our devotions.
We lift our hearts in blessed community.
The mind has thoughts, the heart its true emotions,
we celebrate in worship, full and free.
Our faith transcends the boundaries of oceans.
All shall be granted worth and dignity.

So many ways to witness to the wonder.
So many dreams by day for us to dare.
Yet, reaching out, each way is made the grander,
and love made bold for dreamers everywhere.
Diversity will never cast asunder
our common weal, our bonds of mutual care.

Infinite Spirit, dwell with us, we pray thee,
that we may share in life abundantly.
Forgive our sins, feed us with good bread daily,
with strength resist temptation steadfastly.
O God of life, sustain us now, and may we
with mindful hearts, be thankful constantly.

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 Susan Manker-Seale

And let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer now. This prayer is partly based on some words by Susan Manker-Seale. 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)

As we gather this morning,
in this sacred space we co-create,
we embody the yearning of all people
to touch each other more deeply,
to hear each other more keenly,
to see each other’s joys and sorrows as our own
and know that we are not alone.

May we help each other to proclaim the possibilities we see
to create the community we desire,
to worship what is worthy in our lives,
to teach the truth as we know it,
and to serve with justice in all the ways that we can,
to the end that our yearning is assuaged
and our lives fulfilled in one another. (pause)

Let us take a few moments now to look back over the past week, sit quietly for a while, and inwardly give thanks for those joys and pleasures we have felt along the way:

moments of love, friendship and camaradrie; feelings of achievement, creativity, and flow; experiences of wonder and delight; reassurance and relief; bursts of playfulness, spontaneity and generosity; all those times when we felt most alive and awake. (pause – about 30s)

Let us also take some time to ask for the consolation, forgiveness,
and guidance we may need, as we acknowledge our sorrows and regrets:

times of loss, pain, anger, and fear; periods of uncertainty and anxious waiting; realisation of our own weaknesses, mistakes and failings; awareness of missed opportunities, those things left unsaid or undone; those moments when we struggled and felt like a mess. (pause – about 30s)

Expanding our circle of concern, let us bring to mind those people,
places and situations that are in need of prayer right now:

Maybe friends or loved ones, those closest to our heart; Maybe those we find difficult, or where there’s a conflict going on; Maybe those we don’t know so well, or who we’ve heard about in the news. And let us take a few moments now to hold them in the light of love. (pause – about 30s)

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

In-Person Reading: ‘Holy is this Place’ by Maureen Killoran (read by David Brewerton)

Blessed is this ground on which we stand. Holy is this place.

Holy are the places of memory,
the places which have formed us,
where we store the icons of success and shattered dreams
and gather threads and pieces of what we would become. . .
Holy are the places of memory.

Holy are the places of the dream,
the places over the rainbow,
where all children are wanted and all people are fed,
where colours are the source of celebration
and youth and age come to the table as one. . .
Holy are the places of the dream.

Holy are the places of change and pain,
the places of our struggle,
where the rivers of our lives run white and fast,
and we hold on, hold on and grow. . .
Holy are the places of change and pain.

Holy are the places of connection,
the places where we risk our selves,
where hands touch hands, touch souls, touch minds,
and in awareness still, we change our lives. . .
Holy are the places of connection.

Holy are the places of becoming,
the places of clear vision,
where life and world are intertwined
and we can see forever in this moment
and give thanks. . .
Holy are the places of becoming.

Blessed is the ground on which we stand.
Holy — and whole-making— is this place.

Hymn 208 (purple): ‘When Our Heart is in a Holy Place’

Let’s sing again. Our next hymn is a lovely one, it’s number 208, ‘When Our Heart is in a Holy Place’. The words will be on screen as usual. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.

When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.

When we trust the wisdom in each of us,
every colour every creed and kind,
and we see our faces in each other’s eyes,
then our heart is in a holy place.

When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.

When we tell our story from deep inside,
and we listen with a loving mind,
and we hear our voices in each other’s words,
then our heart is in a holy place.

When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.

When we share the silence of sacred space,
and the God of our heart stirs within,
and we feel the power of each other’s faith,
then our heart is in a holy place.

When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place.

ZOOM Reflection: ‘Great Hucklow’ by Charlotte Chanteloup

In 2019, I went to Great Hucklow to attend Summer School for the first time. After that, because of Covid, a version of Summer School took place online, until this year when Great Hucklow was once again taken over for the last week of August.

When I walked in, after 4 years, everything still felt the same. The memory of the place was so embedded in my brain that I felt like I had never felt. I remembered where everything was, how things worked, who the people that I had met then were. I was able to pick up conversations where we had left them four years ago.

But not everything was simple. A lot happened in my life since 2019, so catching up with friends meant I had to explain over and over that I had moved back to France and that my mum had passed. I guess I could have just kept quiet about the difficult parts of the past four years, but that’s not the spirit of Summer School and I didn’t want to lie to people with whom I had shared many things.

I was very upset my first two days. Everything felt overwhelming: I realized that the life I lead has become very quiet as opposed to when I lived in London.

But as the week went on, I felt better as I found my marks once again. The Nightingale Centre hasn’t changed: it is still surrounded by grand, beautiful landscapes; the stars still shine when we make our way back from the Chapel after the evening service.

I have changed though. And reconciling this new me with this place took a few days. I felt so safe and surrounded there that I was able to let go of some of the grief I still carry. I knew that I would be caught if I stumbled, and that’s what happened. I stumbled and people I had not talked to in four years, but still felt like I knew deeply, caught me, and made me feel better.

Now I could say that the sacred place is not actually a place, but the people we surround ourselves with. But I don’t think that it’s quite true in this case. Yes, the wonderful people I had deep talks with at any point of the day are holy, and our relationships are holy. However, the Nightingale Centre is ingrained in me also as a place where I came to deep realisations about my life and my faith.

I think Hucklow is sacred, because of its purpose as a place to hold religious events, and because people choose to make it sacred by sharing pieces of themselves and by welcoming what others share.

ZOOM Reflection: ‘Molkom’ by Alex Brianson

My sacred place is a bit of a surprise because it’s not one I can go to, except in my head, for most of the time. It’s tucked away in the Swedish region of Varmland, just off the road that eventually gets you to Stockholm if you travel on a few hours. It’s in a small town where friends of mine live, and which I’ve visited so many times now it’s a home from home.

Molkom. I’ve seen their kids grow up there; I’ve seen them get older; I’ve seen my friend turn her garden into a beautiful growing space for dozens of food plants; I’ve seen businesses come and go while the local COOP supermarket anchors the town with its perseverance in the centre. I’ve seen all of the seasons. I’ve swum in the lake, I’ve walked around all of its quixotic street patterns, I’ve played tennis on the courts round the corner from my friends’ house, I’ve stayed almost sleepless in the long summer nights with nearly no darkness.

I have also eaten huge quantities of pizza from the local take-away joint and Marabou chocolate. Cinnamon buns. Grated carrot.

I have flown there. I have approached it on the train from Oslo, and Stockholm, and Gothenburg. I have even driven there, thorough the Channel Tunnel, and through the Netherlands to Germany to the ferry to Sweden.

This place is sacred to me because it’s my home, even though I don’t live there. It’s where I’m welcome, and loved, and valued. It’s where people I love offer friendship, and love, and kindness. I have cried there. I have worked there. I have helped, and advised, and supported there.

I have also talked to God there, and had important conversations – you can call them monologues if you’re prosaically-minded – with my late parents.

There are two places I choose for this. One is the shore of the local lake, where I have sat, and stood, and walked, and offered up my fears, and joys, and sadnesses. The other is the yard of the local church, which stands on a hillside and looks over the lake to a vast forest. In the summer sunlight, it’s particularly spectacular, with the water sparkling and the flowers lazily doing their dance of the seven veils for the local insect population. The garden of remembrance there practically begs me to slow down, think, feel, and be grateful. It’s the kind of place I’m contractually bound to think of Mary Oliver. And when she asks what I will do with my one wild and precious life, I tell her that one of the things on the list is going to Molkom. It’s not as untouched as many of the spaces she treasured, but I think she’d approve nonetheless.

Meditation: ‘Our Own Sacred Spaces’

Thanks Alex and Charlotte. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. I’m going to share just a brief quote on the theme of sacred space, words which are on the front of the order of service in fact, and which are on the website with the text of the whole service. And I’m going to invite you to take this into a time of reflection on spaces and places which are sacred to you. This will take us into about three minutes of silence, which will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear some lovely music to continue the meditative mood. So 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 yourself – close your eyes. The words are just an offering, feel free to meditate in your own way.

Al-Hujwiri wrote: ‘Devotees look for sacred space to pray,
but the friends of Unity find sacred space anywhere.
For them the whole world is God’s meeting place.
While still veiled, they find the world dark, but when the veils lift,
they can see that the Beloved lives everywhere.’

So as we move into a few minutes of shared stillness I invite you
to reflect on those spaces and places that have been sacred in your life.
Maybe places of great natural beauty or architectural wonder;
Maybe places where you have made precious memories with loved ones;
Maybe quite humble places which have become sacred to you through their familiarity;
Maybe spaces that are not physical, as such, perhaps virtual spaces that are precious to you,
spaces that have become sanctified, through the intention and care that has been brought to them.

As Al-Hujwiri said: ‘The friends of Unity find sacred space anywhere’.

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

Musical Interlude: London Trio in C Major – Andante

In-Person Reading: ‘We Meet on Holy Ground’ by Richard S. Gilbert (read by Brian Ellis)

We meet on holy ground,
For that place is holy
Where lives touch, love moves, hope stirs.

How much we need this moment before the eternal,
The time to be in reverence before the ultimate,
The pause that renews,
The interlude that refreshes,
The space that gives room to be.

We meet on holy ground,
Brought into being as life encounters life,
As personal histories merge into the communal story,
As we take on the pride and pain of our companions,
As separate selves become community.

How desperate is our need for one another:
Our silent beckoning to our neighbours,
Our invitations to share life and death together,
Our welcome into the lives of those we meet,
And their welcome into our own.

May our souls capture this treasured time.
May our spirits celebrate our meeting
In this time and in this space,
For we meet on holy ground.

In-Person Reflection: ‘Amaravati’ by Pat Gregory

In 1998 I was a single mum with two children and was running a community centre – life was busy and I was exhausted and in need of a place to retreat and recharge but could not leave my children for long. My work involved being with people who were at the end of their lives and I attended a workshop run by Buddhists about death and dying. Whilst there I found out about a place where I could go on short silent retreats, this was the Amaravati Buddhist Monastery in Great Gaddesden in Hertfordshire. I immediately booked myself on the next available retreat and found myself at the monastery a few weeks later.

I felt nervous on the day that I arrived but this soon fell away when I felt the energy of this peaceful place with a its beautiful wooden temple. There were fields and woods and the gardens were well loved. Accommodation was very basic but all my needs were met and no charge was made for my stay but donations were welcome.

The retreats were led by monks and nuns in the Theravada tradition of South Asia and included periods of guided and silent meditation, walking meditation and Buddhist teachings. We did not speak for the whole retreat. If we had a question this was written and given to the teacher who would read it out and give an answer at the end of the meditation session. The first meditation of the day was at 5.30am before breakfast, then there was a working meditation where we were all assigned a job to do around the retreat centre and then lunch at 12 which was the last meal of the day. The afternoon was a mix of sitting and walking meditations. Some chocolate and cheese were sometimes offered in the evening as these were seen as medicinal!
This was the first time I had been in silence for so long and it was challenging but soon the energy, love and compassion that I felt from this community began to feel like home. This started a whole new chapter in my life and I went on to do many longer silent retreats. Some were run jointly by Buddhists and Christians and I appreciated the monastery’s openness to other religious beliefs.

Being at Amaravati taught me to become aware of the stillness within and how being simply present in the here and now is a lifelong practice. I am forever grateful for the generosity of the monks and nuns who gave their time so freely. It is a place of simplicity, beauty and true nature.

In-Person Reflection: ‘Ghost Ranch’ by Julia Alden

Personal experiences do shape our core beliefs about our connection to spirituality. For many, nothing is more spiritually connecting than the natural environment. A place that I have visited and that led to a strong spiritual connection was Ghost Ranch in New Mexico. It was a serendipitous spiritual experience I would say. I went to Ghost Ranch for the first time in the early 1990’s. I was drawn to Ghost Ranch because of my love for the painter Georgia O’Keefe. O’Keefe, who spent many years in NYC and was married to the photographer Alfred Stiglitz, started visiting a place near Ghost Ranch, called Abiquiu in the Chama River Valley at a certain point in her artistic career. She kept returning and never really left there… the place had such an extraordinary impact on her and her work.

Ghost Ranch itself was originally a Presbyterian retreat and has become a kind of non-denominational retreat center. O’Keefe is famous for her iconic larger-than-life-flower paintings, but she also created hundreds of landscape images of the phenomenally beautiful multihued mesas and cliffs near Ghost Ranch. It would certainly be the time now to show some slides of her paintings so that you could get an image of its splendour, but hopefully you already have that image of an American southwestern landscape and some of O’Keeffe’s famous paintings of that area.

Ghost Ranch is a haven for artists, writers, hikers, and nature enthusiasts. I too, hiked while there. There is a particular hike that takes you to some of the exact places that are in many of O’Keeffe’s paintings. And that is where I had what I consider my first and most notable spiritual experience. It came as I was standing on a hiking trail amidst the vibrant red and yellow sandstone mesas and under a dramatic clear blue sky. A definition for a spiritual experience: A spiritual experience is a deeply personal and often profound encounter or connection with something greater than oneself. It transcends the physical and material aspects of life and can be a characterized by a sense of awe, inner peace, and a feeling of connectedness with the universe or a higher power. A spiritual experience thus refers to a state of mind/being regarded by the subject as beyond ordinary explanation, caused by the presence of God or some other religious or ultimate factor. This experience at Ghost Ranch was totally serendipitous for me, unexpected and in many ways, life changing. Obviously, spiritual experiences are very personal and subjective. On that day, what transcended for me was the sense that I was not praying or reaching out to connect with God, but that the earth, the sky and all of the natural surroundings were communing spiritually with me. It wasn’t an awakening, but a boundless sense of oneness with the earth, with the sky, with all that was surrounding me. For a moment, no more than thirty seconds, I felt the earth move, I sensed tremendous joy running through my body. It was bliss and rapture, it was light surrounding me in hope and awe, of a world of abundance and grace. I’ve been seeking similar experiences ever since that day.

I’ve done a lot of traveling which has taken me to some of the most noted sacred places in the world. I’ve been to Boudhanath Stupa in Nepal, Borobudur Indonesia, Angkor Wat, Cambodia, the Sistine Chapel in Rome, Bodhgaya, India, Lourdes…the list goes on. I’ve not found a place that touched me as deeply as Ghost Ranch, but that experience has been a channel for finding other spiritual rituals.

I am not sure why it happened in that place and why it happened at that time. Certainly, the geographic area has all kinds of elements that contribute to a spiritual experience. Apart from the extraordinary geographic environs, Ghost Ranch is a place that has a deep and rich antiquity of Native American presence that dates back thousands of years. There is also a strong Catholic culture established by the existence of the Spanish in the 18th century. Ghost Ranch itself has a had an abundance of religious and artistic offerings, bringing people from all over the world together to learn, meditate and create. And too, there were ancient dinosaurs roaming this land during the late Triassic period; some of the oldest fossils are still found on this site. Some say that even its name…Ghost Ranch, or Rancho de los Brujos (ranch of the witches) was given because of supernatural powers that existed within the space of the sky and the earth. For many reasons, there I found a spiritual connection to the infinite in a way that profoundly changed my own interior world.

Thank you for letting me share my spiritual experience with you and I hope that it may have sparked a memory of your own spiritual experience. And thank you Ms. O’Keefe for immortalizing this sacred place.

I finish with a prayer by Rabindranath Tagore from his book, “The Heart of God”.

The Stream of Life

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day, runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood in this moment.

Hymn 167 (purple): ‘There is a Place I Call My Own’

Time for our last hymn, number 167 in the purple book: ‘There is a Place I Call My Own’.

There is a place I call my own,
where I can stand by the sea,
and look beyond the things I’ve known
and dream that I might be free.
Like the bird above the trees,
gliding gently on the breeze,
I wish that all my life I’d be
without a care and flying free.

But life is not a distant sky
without a cloud, without rain,
and I can never hope that I
can travel on without pain.
Time goes swiftly on its way;
all too soon we’ve lost today,
I cannot wait for skies of blue
or dream so long that life is through.

So life is a song that I must sing,
a gift of love I must share;
and when I see the joy it brings
my spirits soar through the air.
Like the bird up in the sky,
life has taught me how to fly.
For now I know what I can be
and now my heart is flying free.

Sharing of News, Announcements, Introductions:

Thanks to Charlotte, Alex, Pat and Julia for sharing their reflections today. Thanks to Brian and David for reading. Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Jeannene for co-hosting at home. Thanks to George, Abby, Xinye and Gavin for lovely music. Thanks ?Hannah for greeting and ?Marianne for doing the coffee. For those of you who are here in-person, please do hang around for a cuppa and a chat. If you’re joining us online hang on after the service for a chat with Jeannene.

We have various small group activities during the week. Heart and Soul, our contemplative spiritual gathering, takes place twice a week online it’s a great way to get to know people more deeply. This week’s theme is ‘Good Faith’. Email Jeannene to sign up for tonight or Jane for Friday.

This autumn we’re starting up a regular Community Singing group on Wednesday evenings, twice a month, it’s a collaboration with a local musician who’s been running a singing-for-fun group in the area for over twenty years and who has very kindly offered to branch out and start a spin-off group with us. Everyone is welcome and you don’t need to read music or anything; the repertoire is mostly classic pop songs I believe. The first session is going to be on THIS COMING WEDNESDAY, 11th October, that’s at 7pm, free of charge. It’d be really good if we had a decent turnout of congregation members for this as it’s a great opportunity for us to make connections in the local area – and I think it’s going to be fun too – so do come along.

Next Saturday we have the long-awaited Induction Service which – that’s at 3pm – this marks the official commencement of the new ministry, even though Jane has been here a while – there will be tea, cake, and bunting and for friends from all over the place to join in celebration. But more than that it’s a chance to express our hopes and intentions for this ministry and to pledge our commitment to the future of this congregation and its mission. We’ll need people to help with greeting, to bake cakes, and generally to help out on the day so do let me know if you are willing and able. We’re expecting about 50 people in the building and at least 20 online so it should be a great occasion.

Jane will be back leading our regular Sunday service next week (followed by singing with Margaret).

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 Andy Pakula

As you prepare to leave this sacred space,
Pack away a piece of this church in your heart.
Wrap it carefully like a precious gem.
Carry it with you through the joys and sorrows of your days –
Let its gentle glow strengthen you, warm you,
remind you of all that is good and true
Until you gather here again in this place of love.

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

Closing Music: London Trio in C Major – Finale Vivace

Patricia Brewerton and Congregation Members

8th October 2023