Bringing in the Harvest - Taking in the Good

Sunday Service, 21 September 2025

Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

Musical Prelude: Gratitude – Chilcott (performed by George Ireland and our Quartet of Singers)  

Opening Words: ‘Gathering for Harvest’ by Andrew Usher (adapted) 

We gather at this time of harvest,

to give thanks for the many blessings we receive,

and to acknowledge the work which has made them possible.

So much of our lives is disconnected from the earth which sustains us,

and we pause now to remember its generous bounty.

Yet, along with the bounty, life on earth meets much hardship.

At this time of harvest, as the weather turns, we prepare for the coming winter.

We pray for the strength to endure the colder months to come,

and we give thanks for the food and the fuel which will help us to survive it.

And as we prepare for the future, we remember also the past.

All of us hold in our hearts the memories both of joy and of sorrow.

We give thanks for the happiness we have known, and we pray

that we may survive the hardships of the spirit as well as of the body.

As the winter is made easier by the harvest stores

and the knowledge of the following spring,

so may our spiritual winters be made easier

by the memory of joy and anticipation

of the good things still to come.

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

These words from Andrew Usher welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining us via Zoom, and anyone tuning in at a later date via YouTube or the podcast.  For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.

Today’s service is titled ‘Bringing in the Harvest, Taking in the Good’. On one level it’s a traditional harvest service – it’s good to take time, at least once a year, to think about where our food comes from – and to give thanks for everything that’s involved in bringing it from the fields to our plates. But we’re going to take an broader view of harvest this morning and reflect on how we might make a practice of integrating thanksgiving into our days – internalising the goodness we receive – and letting it nourish us – in a way that might strengthen and revitalise us for all the tasks of our lives.

Chalice Lighting: ‘The Abundance of Our Lives Together’ by Katie Gelfand

Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. It’s a moment for us to stop and take a breath, settle ourselves down, put aside any preoccupations we came in carrying. 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 this gathering is part.

(light chalice) 

We light our chalice as a symbol of gratitude

as we celebrate the abundance of our lives together.

In this sanctuary we harvest bushels of strength for one another,

and offer our crop with the hands of compassion and generosity.

In the authentic and gentle manner of our connections,

we cultivate a simple sweetness to brighten our spirits.

May we be grateful for the ways we nourish and uplift each other,

For it is the sharing of this hallowed time together that sustains us.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘We Plough the Fields and Scatter’

Our first hymn this morning is a traditional harvest hymn: ‘We Plough the Fields and Scatter’. For those on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.

We plough the fields and scatter

The good seed on the land,

But it is fed and watered

By God's almighty hand:  

The snow is sent in winter,

The warmth to swell the grain,

The breezes and the sunshine,

And soft refreshing rain.

All good gifts around us Are sent from heaven above;

Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord, For all his love.

God only is the maker

Of all things near and far,

Who paints the wayside flower

And lights the evening star;

The winds and waves are governed,

And still the birds are fed;

Much more to us, earth’s children,

God gives our daily bread.

All good gifts around us Are sent from heaven above;

Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord, For all his love.

We thank thee then, Creator,

For all things bright and good,

The seed-time and the harvest,

Our life, our health, our food.

Accept the gifts we offer

For all thy love imparts,

And, what thou most desirest,

Our humble, thankful hearts.

All good gifts around us Are sent from heaven above;

Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord, For all his love.

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. We’ll go to the people in the building first, then to Zoom.

So I invite some of you here in person to come and light a candle and then if you wish to tell us who or what you light your candle for – please keep it brief – be considerate of others. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak, as we want people to be able to hear 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 and Reflection for all of life’s harvests 

Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. There’s a responsive element to this prayer, for a change, and it’s just a simple refrain which I invite you to join in with: ‘Spirit of Life, God of All Love, we give thanks for life’s blessings’. You might 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)

Let us give thanks, this harvest-time,

for all the colours and forms of creation

that populate this precious earth,

and for our place within it;

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

we give thanks for life’s blessings.

For our daily food, and for

those whose work and skill

bring your good gifts to us;

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

we give thanks for life’s blessings.

For the gifts and graces inspired in human minds and hearts;

for insight and imagination, and the skills of research

which bring healing and fulfilment to the lives of many;

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

we give thanks for life’s blessings.

For the light and shades of the changing seasons,

and their variety and their dependability;

for new life and growth out of barrenness and decay;

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

we give thanks for life’s blessings.

For new hope and strength in our communities,

especially in this church congregation, and

among all you call to serve the Good,

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

we give thanks for life’s blessings.

For all in whose lives we see goodness,

kindness, gentleness, patience and humility,

those souls who embody all the fruits of the Spirit,

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

we give thanks for life’s blessings.

For the life we have been given,

and for all those whom

you have given us to share it,

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

we give thanks for life’s blessings. (pause)

And in a good few moments of shared silence and stillness now,

may we speak inwardly some of those deepest prayers of our hearts,

reaching out in faith and hope to the One Who Holds All.

Let us each lift up whatever is on our heart this day –

our struggles, our questions, our dreams –

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 135 (purple): ‘Praise God for the Harvest’

Let’s sing again – our second hymn is 135 in the purple books – ‘Praise God for the Harvest’.  

Praise God for the harvest of orchard and field,

praise God for the people who gather their yield,

the long hours of labour, the skills of a team,

the patience of science, the power of machine.

Praise God for the harvest that comes from afar,

from market and harbour, the sea and the shore:

foods packed and transported, and gathered and grown

by God-given neighbours, unseen and unknown.

Praise God for the harvest that's quarried and mined,

then sifted, and smelted, or shaped and refined;

for oil and for iron, for copper and coal,

praise God, who in love has provided them all.

Praise God for the harvest of science and skill,

the urge to discover, create and fulfil:

for dreams and inventions that promise to gain

a future more hopeful, a world more humane.

Praise God for the harvest of mercy and love

for leaders and peoples who struggle and serve

with patience and kindness, that all may be led

to freedom and justice, and all may be fed.

In-Person Reading: ‘Learning to Say Grace’ by Norman Wirzba (excerpts, adapted) (read by Chloë and Antony)

In the last hundred years or so, the thinking most people do about food has changed decisively. This is because people the world over have been reduced to a shopping relationship with food. In the main, they do not hunt or gather food. Nor do they grow it. Recent high yields in farming have come at a very high ecological, agricultural and human cost: depleted and degraded fresh water, eroded soils, animal abuse, biodiversity loss, agricultural worker exploitation, fossil fuel dependence, farmer anxiety and debt. Eaters have become presumptuous and naïve about food.

What should be done? We can make a good start by learning to say grace at mealtimes. The practice of saying grace can take many forms, but at its core we find an acknowledgement that eating should evoke a grateful disposition within us. Why? Because, as those practically and intimately involved in the growth of food know, all of one’s best efforts to produce food might still result in a failed crop or a diseased and dying animal. One may prepare a plot, put seed in the ground, nurture and protect the plant, and still not witness the growth of delicious fruit. Germination, growth and health cannot simply be willed into existence or fully controlled by us.

To garden or farm the land, and to husband one’s animals, is, therefore, to be faced continuously with one’s own impatience and impotence. But it is also to engage the surprise and mystery of life that comes from beyond anyone’s knowing and planning. To encounter mystery, and to appreciate that eating ultimately rests on the humble receiving, rather than the arrogant grabbing, of life’s gifts, is to believe that saying thank you or saying grace is an appropriate, even if imperfect, gesture.

To whom should eaters be grateful? One can start by expressing thanks to growers and cooks, and family and friends gathered at the table. These people deserve our thanks because their skill, creativity and love — none of which are necessary — have transformed simple grain into delectable bread, and mere physical proximity into convivial companionship. One can continue by expressing gratitude for the lives and the deaths of the plants and animals that make it to your plate, and for all the marvel-inducing ecological processes that turn sunshine, rain and soil into fabulous fruit.

One might even go so far as to say thank you to the ineffable, incomprehensible, sacred power that sustains and nurtures reality, and seems to circulate through every bite. Creatures are not the source of their own life. That there is life at all, rather than not, speaks to life’s gratuity.

Saying grace isn’t simply a religious act. It is also a political and economic act in which eaters ask to be transformed so that they become the protectors of life, the defenders of farmers and cooks, and the nurturers of communities. If so, then the effect of saying grace would be radical and revolutionary at the same time: radical because it would draw our attention and affection to the sources of life; revolutionary because it would turn our energy and commitment to the building of a just and flourishing world. It is by giving our proper attention and care to the preservation and celebration of creatures that we become worthy of our nourishment. 

We need to become knowledgeable about from where our food comes, and advocate for a more just and compassionate food system. No bowl or plate of food stands alone. Every bite joins us to a table, which joins us to a kitchen, which joins us to a garden or barn, which joins us to fields and weather, which joins us to ecosystem and meteorological processes, which joins us to … the divine delight that first declared the world to be good and beautiful — and delicious.

Words for Meditation: ‘An A-Z of Gratitude’ by Simon John Barlow (adapted)

Thanks Chloë and Antony. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share some words from my old friend Simon John Barlow, an ‘A-Z of Gratitude’, inspired by an older piece from the UU minister Gary Kowalski. It’s a simple idea and I’m hoping each of us can make it our own – at this time of harvest we can take stock, survey our lives, and give thanks – considering not just the harvest of things we can eat, but taking it more widely, and giving thanks for all the good things in life that have nourished us, and going through the alphabet to find a few things beginning with each letter to appreciate.

I’ve made space for you to write your own A-Z of Gratitude on the back of the hymn sheet – it’s just an invitation to go through the whole alphabet and find things you’re grateful for – and write down the things you want to harvest with thanksgiving. The words will take us into a few minutes of shared silence which will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear music for meditation. So let’s do what we need to do to get comfortable – maybe adjust your position – put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – close your eyes. As we always say, the words are just an offering, so feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.

Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in this season of bountiful harvests,

we give thanks for the nourishment of our lives - we are grateful from A to Z:

For asparagus, anemones and aeroplanes;

            bees, blackbirds and books;

For carrots, cats and children;

            dogs, daisies and divinity;

For eels, eggs and experience;

            foxes, fennel and friendship;

For grass, garlic and giggles;

            hawthorn, horses and holidays;

For ivy, iris and inspiration;

            jelly, jays and joie de vivre;

For kelp, kestrels and kites;

            lilies, lakes and love;

For moths, magpies and music;

            newts, nasturtiums and novelty

For owls, oaks and olives

            peonies, picnics and parents;

For quince, quails and quiet places;

            rivers, roses and relatives;

For salmon, strawberries and smiles;

            tides, tomatoes and telephones;

For Unitarian Universalism, urchins and us

            violets, valleys and voting;

For worms, wine and waterfalls;

For X - the unknown, the mystery of it all,

           the universal child’s task to find;

For youth, yo-yos and yew-trees;

            zinnias, zucchini and zephyrs;

For all these and the myriad not named we are grateful to life from beginning to end.

May we always remember that gratitude and abundance can be as simple as ABC.

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

Interlude: Consider – Chilcott (performed by George Ireland and our Quartet of Singers) 

Reading: ‘Taking in the Good’ by Rick Hanson (excerpts, adapted)

Much as your body is built from the foods you eat, your mind is built from the experiences you have. The flow of experience gradually sculpts your brain, thus shaping your mind. Some of the results can be explicitly recalled: This is what I did last summer; that is how I felt when I was in love. But most of them remain forever unconscious. This is called implicit memory, and it helps form your expectations, models of relationships, emotional tendencies, and general outlook. Implicit memory establishes the interior landscape of your mind—what it feels like to be you—based on the slowly accumulating residues of lived experience.

But here’s the problem: Your brain preferentially scans for, registers, stores, recalls, and reacts to unpleasant experiences; it’s like Velcro for negative experiences and Teflon for positive ones. Consequently, even when positive experiences outnumber negative ones, the pile of negative implicit memories naturally grows faster. Then the background feeling of what it feels like to be you can become undeservedly glum and pessimistic. The remedy is not to suppress negative experiences; when they happen, they happen. Rather, it is to foster those positive experiences— to take them in so they become a permanent part of you. Here’s how, in three steps.

1. Turn positive facts into positive experiences: Good things keep happening all around us, but much of the time we don’t notice them; even when we do, we hardly feel them. Someone is nice to you, you see an admirable quality in yourself, a flower is blooming, you finish a difficult project—and it all just rolls by. Instead, actively look for good news, particularly the little stuff of daily life: the smell of an orange, a memory from a fun day out, a minor success at work. Whatever positive facts you find, open up, and let them affect you.

2. Savour the experience: Make positive experiences last by staying with them for 5 or 10 seconds; don’t let your attention skitter off to something else. Savouring those experiences intensifies our positive response to them. The longer something is held in awareness, the more emotionally stimulating it is, the more neurons fire and wire together, and the stronger the trace of it becomes in our memory. You’re not doing this to cling to the rewards but rather to internalize them so that you carry them inside you and don’t need to reach for them in the outer world.

3. Let the experience sink in: Finally, imagine or feel that the experience is entering deeply into your mind and body, like the sun’s warmth into a T-shirt, water into a sponge, or a jewel placed in a treasure chest in your heart. Keep relaxing your body and absorbing the emotions, sensations, and thoughts of the experience. Every time you do this—every time you sift positive feelings and views into painful, limiting states of mind—you build a little bit of neural structure. Over time, the accumulating impact of this positive material will literally, synapse by synapse, change your brain.

Given the negativity bias of the brain, it takes an active effort to internalize positive experiences, and heal negative ones. When you tilt toward what’s positive, you’re actually righting a neurological imbalance, and you’re giving yourself the caring and encouragement you need. Taking in the good is not about putting a happy shiny face on everything, nor is it about turning away from the hard things in life. It’s about nourishing inner well-being, contentment, and peace—refuges to which you can always return.

Mini-Reflection: by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

Words on ‘Taking in the Good’ from Rick Hanson. Now, as I said at the top of the service, it’s good for us to set aside time once a year for a special service like this – a service of thanksgiving – and by timing it to coincide with the traditional harvest festivals (around the time of the autumn equinox) we can situate ourselves in a long line of generations who came before us and who held similar celebrations. In centuries past, I expect people would have been rather more keenly aware of the precarity of the harvest, particularly the vagaries of weather and disease, and all the factors that had to align for them and their families to get enough to eat. So it was natural to get to September and say ‘the harvest is in, thank God, and it will see us through winter.’

But what about us, now, in the 21^st century? Arguably it’s even more important for us to keep up this annual autumn tradition in a time when many of us (especially city-dwellers) are somewhat alienated from the actual means of food production. Marking the harvest festival is, at its best, a way of reconnecting with the earth, acknowledging our ultimate dependence on it, and indeed our interdependence with all the people who grow and pick and pack and sell our food. In recent years we’ve seen headlines about ‘supply chain issues’ and perhaps become more aware of how geopolitical events and climate change are impacting access to food. And I suspect most of us are all too aware of how economic inequality means the harvest is not being fairly distributed – collectively, we have enough food – but many still go hungry.

So harvest is a double-edged festival, I think. It is, primarily, a celebration – it’s about connecting with the very goodness of existence and some of life’s simple pleasures – but it also insists that we remember those who are not enjoying life’s bounty (and implicitly, calls on us to do something about it, share whatever good fortune we have).

And we need to be remembering this more than once a year! Which is why I wanted to share that first reading, on ‘Learning to Say Grace’, from Norman Wirzba. I don’t know if any of us gathered here today make a practice of saying grace at mealtimes? It’s not something I grew up doing so it’s not something that comes naturally to me. But I’m wondering if it’s something I might take up. I rather like the idea of a bite-sized spiritual practice (pun intended!) – something that could be built into the rhythm of my days – just to pause for a minute at breakfast, lunch, and dinner and give thanks. I reckon it would probably do us all good to have a tiny ritual we can do three times a day, to reconnect with a sense of gratitude, and refocus on all that is good in our lives.

And I do think we should go further than giving thanks for our food, important as that is. That’s why our service title today has two parts: ‘Bringing in the Harvest – Taking in the Good’. As well as the literal harvest of veg, fruit, grain, and all the rest, there’s also a much broader metaphorical harvest to take into account, all the other blessings of life.

The human world, right now, is a mess. In so many ways. It is easy to fall into despair about it all (I wouldn’t blame you if you did). It is important to witness what’s going on and to resist evil. But it is also important that we do not focus exclusively on the horrors. We need to be lifted up, in order to summon the strength to go on, stand up for what’s right, do good, speak truth, create beauty, work for justice and peace. To paraphrase the old saying of Teresa of Avila, one of my favourites: to be the hands of God in this world.

Despite all the horrors, we are still here, for now, and it’s a remarkable miracle that we popped into existence in the first place, we got a shot at this one wild and precious life.  Despite everything, here we are, and we have the chance to enjoy a cup of tea and a slice of cake (or a beetroot, or a plum, or any of the other harvest goodies on our table). So let’s make sure we really enjoy it – savour it, relish it – be a bit more mindful of it.

A fragment of a prayer-poem from M Barclay of the enfleshed collective came to me. They wrote this in April 2020 when we were all caught in pandemic-shock: ‘Now is not a time for rushing past joy. Do not move too quickly from any good thing: not laughter nor a sight of beauty, not a taste, a feeling, a companion, or a truth. These are gifts, not to be wasted. Be generous in sharing. Linger and give thanks. Be excessive in awe. Just, do not hurry through them as if they are not precious in this season of grief.’ 

I think that sentiment will serve us just as well in this current season of turbulence. As Rick Hanson said, our brains are Teflon for good experiences and Velcro for bad, it’s just how we’re wired by default. So, as a corrective, we need to actively practice ‘taking in the good’. Now is not a time for rushing past joy. Notice when good things happen, and imagine those positive experiences sinking into you, so you can carry them onward – just like you would with any other nourishment you take in – internalise them just as you would take the molecules from the food you eat into your cells, muscles, bones. Maybe someone has said a kind, encouraging affirming word to you. Really take it in. Maybe you have heard beautiful music, seen wonderful art or architecture, read an incredible book. Maybe you have spent time in an astonishing landscape or garden.

Immerse yourself in all this goodness that still surrounds us, despite everything. See if you can fill in your own A-Z of gratitude (as an aside: that’s a great exercise to do if you’re struggling to get to sleep at night). And also, remember your own place in the interdependent web that makes all this goodness possible. You may also be the person who says the kind, encouraging, affirming word to another; who creates the music, makes the work of art, writes the book; who campaigns for the protection of nature, tends to the garden, makes the tea, bakes the cake, grows the beetroot or the plum. The ways in which we can – and already do – contribute to life’s harvest are endless.

I want to close with a prayer for the harvest by my friend Laura Dobson.

Spirit of Life, Ground of Our Being, at this harvest-time,

we give thanks for the gifts of nature, freely given.

For the abundance and beauty of this earth, we give thanks.

For fertile soils, ripening crops and fruiting hedgerows, we give thanks.

For bracing breezes and misty mornings, we give thanks.

For cool evenings and spectacular sunsets, we give thanks.

For dew glistening on spiders’ webs, we give thanks.

For the sumptuous scent of fallen leaves on damp earth, we give thanks.

For the circling seasons, the dance of light and dark, we give thanks.

For all the gifts of nature, freely given, we give thanks.

For the fruits of love and the gifts of friendship we harvest

here in our beloved community, we give thanks.

For the joys of sharing and growing

and flourishing together, we give thanks.

For the promise of harvest that lies in the seed,

the huge oak tree in the tiny acorn,

the sweet apple in the bitter pip, we give thanks.

For all the promise, potentiality and possibilities of our lives, we give thanks. Amen.

Hymn 37 (purple): ‘For the Fruits of All Creation’.

Our final hymn is number 37 in your purple books: ‘For the Fruits of All Creation’.  

For the fruits of all creation,

thanks be to God;

for the gifts to every nation

thanks be to God;

for the ploughing, sowing, reaping,

silent growth while we are sleeping,

future needs in earth's safe-keeping,

thanks be to God.

In the just reward of labour,

God's will is done;

in the help we give our neighbour,

God's will is done;

in the world-wide task of caring

for the hungry and despairing,

in the harvests we are sharing,

God's will is done.

For the harvest of the spirit,

thanks be to God;

for the good we all inherit,

thanks be to God;

for the wonders that astound us,

for the truths that still confound us,

most of all, that love has found us.

thanks be to God.

Announcements:

Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Jeannene for co-hosting. Thanks to George, Margaret, Lucy, Benjie and Edwin for lovely music today – always a treat. Thanks to Chloë and Antony for reading. Thanks to Hannah for greeting and Marianne for making coffee. Thanks to everyone who brought something to decorate our lovely harvest table. If you are here in-person – we’ve got plum, hazelnut and chocolate cake today – plus a small selection of vegan treats.

And I encourage you to stay on for our crafternoon – we’ve got some art materials out of the cupboard – so we can just stay and chat while we do craft projects or play with the paints.

I’m about to take some time off! I’ll be away for the next three Sundays but we have good friends coming to take the service while I’m away. Please do support everyone who is kindly ‘minding the shop’ and leading activities while I’m on holiday. Next Sunday it’ll be Michael Allured on ‘Identity’. And that will be followed by Margaret’s ‘Find Your Voice’ singing group so do come along for that.

Tonight we have Heart and Soul online at 7pm when our theme is ‘Courage’ – I’ll lead this evening – and I’ve got a last-minute substitute to cover Friday so you can sign up with Maud Robinson.

Sonya will be here on Friday lunchtime with her Nia Dance class at 12.30pm.

You’ve still just about got time to read ‘Normally Weird and Weirdly Normal’ by Robin Ince if you’d like to join the Better World Book Club on Zoom next Sunday and I highly recommend it. It’s one of the best things I’ve read on neurodiversity. Drop me an email if you want the link for that.

Hannah will be back with Community Yoga after the service on 5^th October.

Looking a bit further ahead I want to draw your attention to a Vigil for Palestine which is being organised by Marianne and Patricia and that’ll take place on Saturday 18^th October. Have a word with them if you are planning to come along or if you can support them on the night.

And we’re going to have a Festive Tea Dance on 7^th December. Please do save the date for that and tell your friends. It will be a fun occasion and more the merrier.

Details of all our various activities are printed on the back of the order of service, for you to take away, 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.

Time for our closing words and closing music now.  

Benediction: based on words by Marta M Flanagan

May we be inspired with gratitude for the wondrous gifts that are ours

And be filled with the resolve to share them with all who are in need.

May we hold precious one another, and the world

which provides us with sustenance and beauty.

And as our time together ends, may a joyful song of

thanksgiving be on our lips, for all life’s harvests,

as we go out to meet the days to come. Amen.

Closing Music: This is the Day – Chilcott – all today’s music from The Song of Harvest by Bob Chilcott (performed by George Ireland and our Quartet of Singers) 

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

21st September 2025