Gender: A Matter of Conscience
- revjaneblackall
- Nov 22
- 21 min read
Updated: Nov 23
Sunday Service, 23 November 2025
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall and Dr. Lochlann Binney
Musical Prelude: The Blue Beyond by Howard Harrison (performed by Abby Lorimier and Jack Campbell)
Opening Words: ‘We Come Together Without Creed’ by Maureen Killoran (adapted)
In this free church, we come together without creed,
focusing instead on our shared values
of justice, equity and compassion,
of mutual acceptance of our diverse ways of being,
as we seek to connect ourselves more fully
with the unfolding truths of life and of our world.
We come together in the firm conviction that all people
deserve a voice in matters that concern them, and that it is up to
each of us to protect the rights of all—particularly those who,
for whatever reason, have long been victimised or held in silence.
We come together in the persistently stubborn belief that
community is possible and that peace is more than a dream.
We commit together to affirm in our deeds as well as our words,
the inherent worth and dignity of each and every human being.
We come together in awareness of our interdependence with all humanity,
and with the wider web of existence, of which we are a part.
We come together to pool our resources, and strengthen our resolve,
to build beloved community and truly put our faith into action.
And as we gather, we sense our connectedness
with all who have come together this morning,
all who have ever walked through our doors,
or joined our gathered community via the internet,
and all those who may yet discover this place as their spiritual home.
So whoever you are, however you are, wherever you are,
know that you are welcome in this gathering, just as you are.
Let us bring our whole selves to this hour of worship. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Maureen Killoran 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 listening to the podcast stream. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.
Our service today is titled ‘Gender: A Matter of Conscience’. This is timed to coincide (more-or-less) with Transgender Awareness Week, and Transgender Day of Remembrance, which was on Thursday. This morning we’re going to look at gender and consider our relationship to it – each of us has some sort of relationship to gender whether we’re trans or not – perhaps your gender is something you are deeply engaged with, something you’ve spent years agonising over, or maybe gleefully playing with and expressing to the full – or maybe your own gender is something you aren’t that personally invested in and barely give a second thought to (personally I’m more in that latter camp! But as in so many spheres of life I’m both baffled and delighted at how varied we humans are in this respect).
On the front of today’s order of service (and if you’re online you can see this by going to the ‘past services’ page on our website) we have an image which shows the traditional male and female stick figures – a blue one in trousers and a pink one in a skirt – but they are in a line with lots of different people in between, who are neither one nor the other, in varied shades of purple. This sort of image represents a step up in nuance and complexity from the traditional binary which says we can only be one or the other. It’s a start, a step in the right direction. But if we listen to people’s true stories of their own lived experience we will find that there’s a whole landscape of gender out there to explore.
And our very own Lochlann Binney, member and trustee of this congregation, who we most often see in two-dimensions on the Zoom screen, is here in-person today to share their reflections on how we can consider gender as matter of conscience, in keeping with our free-thinking Unitarian heritage.
Chalice Lighting: ‘Gathered for a Sacred Purpose’ by Lindsay Bates (freely adapted)
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.
(Lochlann to light chalice)
We light this chalice to signify and claim
our place in the historic Unitarian tradition
and all the values and commitments it represents.
So as we focus on this little flame, let us
open our minds to the challenge of reason,
open our hearts to the healing of love,
open our lives to the calling of conscience,
open our souls to the comfort of joy.
Astonished by the miracle of life in all its diversity,
grateful for the gift of fellowship and mutual care,
confident in the transformative power of living faith,
we are here gathered for a sacred purpose once again.
Hymn 42 (purple): ‘The Fire of Commitment’
Our first hymn this morning is number 42 in your purple books: ‘The Fire of Commitment’ (also known as ‘From the Light of Days Remembered’. For those on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.
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.
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 dreams of youthful vision comes a new, prophetic voice,
which demands a deeper justice built by our courageous choice.
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.
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 & Reflection: based on words by Reuben Zellman
including a prayer for Transgender Day of Remembrance
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. In keeping with the theme of today’s service, part of this prayer will mark Transgender Day of Remembrance, which took place last Thursday, 20th November. Each year on this day memorial gatherings take place to honour the lives of all those trans people who have died as a result of violence and persecution in the last twelve months. The organisers of this memorial event report that this year 365 trans people have died in this way – there’s something about that number that hits home – one trans person lost every single day – and 14 of them here in the UK; some of them have been violently attacked, others have died by suicide as a result of the current climate of harassment and hostility.
This prayer is based, in part, on some words by Rabbi Reuben Zellman. 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)
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, bless the souls
of all who are touched by Transgender Day of Remembrance.
We call to mind today young and old, of every race, faith,
and gender experience, who have died by violence.
We remember those who have died because they would not hide,
or did not pass, or did pass, or stood too proud.
The reluctant activists; the fiery warriors and trailblazers;
the voices of quiet truth; the ones whom no one really knew.
We mourn their senseless deaths, and give thanks for their lives,
for their teaching, and for the brief glow of each holy flame.
And we remember those who have taken their own lives.
We pray for resolve to root out the injustice, ignorance,
harassment and cruelty, that drive people to despair.
We pray for sensitivity, compassion, and understanding,
so that we may help to create a climate of acceptance and hope.
And we pray that all those who perpetrate hate and violence
will speedily come to understand that Your creation
has many faces, many genders, many holy expressions.
Blessed are they, who have allowed their divine image to shine in the world. (pause)
And in a few minutes of quietness now, let us seek a wider perspective, and a longer view.
This is a time to take stock of all that is our lives and offer the deepest prayers of our own hearts.
So let us each look inward, get in touch with what’s real,
what is going on beneath the surface of our lives this morning.
Let us notice what we’re carrying. What troubles us. What is bubbling up.
What questions or uncertainties we are faced with. What hopes and dreams we nurture.
And from that place of realness – silently, inwardly, ask for
what you most need – ask God, or cast it out into the Universe –
even if you’re the only one to hear your prayer – name what you need this day. (pause)
And let give thanks for what we already have. Look back on the week
and recall all those moments of kindness, comfort, pleasure, even joy.
Silently, inwardly, take the time to savour those gifts, and take in the good. (pause)
And let us turn outwards now, shifting our attention to the world around us,
starting with those dear ones closest to our heart, stretching ever outward,
and spreading all around this planet, holding all beings in the light of love. (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.
In-Person Reading: ‘The Multiple Meanings of Gender’ by Meg-John Barker (adapted excerpts from the intro to ‘Gender: A Graphic Guide’) (read by Jasmine)
Every day we receive a barrage of confusing, complex – often contradictory – messages about gender. Gender is connected to everything in our lives. We can’t get away from it even if we want to. Gender means many different things at once:
- The social scripts, systems, and structures of gender around us.
- Our own experience of gender.
- The way others, such as parents, doctors, and policy-makers, define us.
- The way we identify and express ourselves.
Gender is both in the world around us and within us in our own experience. Gender is socially constructed: our culture develops and passes on strong messages about what it means to be each gender – and related roles and behaviours – through media, laws, education, and so on. At the same time we all have a lived experience of our gender which impacts how we experience our body, our feelings, our relationships, and pretty much everything in life. The way gender is socially constructed in the time and place that we live is part of what shapes our lived experience, but it’s not the whole story, and different people relate to gender in different ways. This means gender is both deeply political and personal, which can make it complex – and socially charged – to talk about.
People often assume that the way gender is understood in the time and place they currently occupy is the only right, normal, natural way of understanding and expressing it. History, archaeology, human geography and anthropology show us that this is definitely not the case. The roles, expressions, and behaviours that are regarded as masculine or feminine have varied over time and between places. Things have been – and could always be – different.
Professor of History Merry E. Wiesner-Hanks says we need to hold on to two key facts from the history of gender: There is massive gender diversity within and between groups – for anything you might want to claim about gender there’ll always be a counter example from somewhere in history and/or across the world today. And most of the world for most of time has been patriarchal with men holding much of the power, and women and other genders subordinated. So we have to be cautious about any claims about the natural, normal or ‘right’ way of doing gender, at the same time as acknowledging the massive impact that patriarchal history has on all of us.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘Call Me By My Name’
Let’s sing again – our second hymn is on your hymn sheet – ‘Call Me By My Name’. We don’t know this one so we definitely need to hear it through before we sing. Thanks Jack.
Call me by my name.
Know me in my truth.
Trust the sacred flame
that burns in me and you.
Listen to my song.
I’m gentle and I’m strong,
With a love I can’t contain.
Won’t you call me by my name?
Tell me who you are.
Let your truth be known.
Cast away your fear
for you are not alone.
Share your hopes and dreams.
Together, we’ll be free
To rejoice with all our hearts.
Won’t you tell me who you are?
As we come to learn
the gifts we each can give,
We offer up in turn
a better way to live.
The stories that we share
will show us how to care.
You can help me do my part
when you tell me who you are.
You can fill the world with grace
when you call me by my name.
In-Person Reading: ‘Love Poem Where Nature is Non-Binary and Uses They/Them Pronouns’ by Kelli Russel Agodon (read by Lochlann)
Because there is a man who likes to trample over
what’s blooming, he thinks nature is a woman. Mother.
Something to serve him—tomatoes or a bucket
of apples, something to build his parking lot on,
something to cut down.
But look at the fig tree sturdy and in cahoots
with the mosquitos to make sweetness.
Look at the river where the sky wades in,
the pink petals resting the rocks.
Daffodils, snowberries, lavender, blackberries—
they stitch together a blossoming flag, a quiet resistance.
Once in the deep of a forest, a friend asked,
Who decided straight was more “natural”—
it seems more natural to bend, overflow, expand?
Spotted hyenas, chimera butterflies, clownfish,
Australian cuttlefish, the marsh harrier.
They are the lush of the evergreens, lavender’s
indistinct rows, doubling weed, and the cluster
of daisies sprouting from the cement.
They are the strength of the snail, softness of the wolf’s
tongue. The magnificence of the mosaic!, my friend said
as she held my hand, both of us watching the sunset
collapse. Look at the ocean, the otters on the beach
and tell me now—What’s not to love?
The beauty of being more. The beauty
of being multitudes.
Words for Meditation: ‘Gender as a Landscape’ by Maia Kobabe
We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share a short quote from the cartoonist and author Maia Kobabe which introduces this idea that gender is more than a binary, more even than a one-dimensional scale of the sort that’s pictured on the front of our orders of service today, and that we might imagine gender using the metaphor of a landscape. And I’m going to offer just a short guided meditation, a few questions from Lochlann for us to ponder, inviting us each to reflect on our own personal experience of gender, in the light of this metaphor. This 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 – this activity – is just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
Maia Kobabe said this: ‘As I pondered a pronoun change,
I began to think of gender less as a scale and more as a landscape.
Some people are born in the mountains, while others are born by the sea.
Some people are happy to live in the place they were born,
while others must make a journey to reach the climate in which they can flourish and grow.
Between the ocean and the mountains is a wild forest.
That is where I want to make my home.’
Words from Maia Kobabe.
So as we move into this time of shared stillness, I invite you to consider:
Where is your gender? Think for a moment about your own experience of gender.
Is it one thing, or are you, like Kelli Russel Agodon (in the poem we just heard), multitudes?
Where is your gender located? Does it live in your body,
in the kind of body you have now or the kind you had when you were younger?
Is it in an attitude, a bearing, that has become part of your body over the years?
Perhaps for you, as for Simone de Beauvoir, you were not born with your gender, but became it.
Where did your gender come from?
Did people tell you what it was, or did you discover it on your own?
Has it been shaped by how you’ve been treated, or by your community,
from the group in which you feel the most at home?
Or perhaps it comes from your soul, from God, if that language works for you;
a deep upwelling of truth from the heart of your being?
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Elegy by Carl Davis (performed by Abby Lorimier and Jack Campbell)
In-Person Reading: ‘Reason and Conscience’ (1918) by Rev. John H. Dietrich (read by Brian)
Unitarianism establishes among the almost infinite variety of churches one where a person may follow truth to its uttermost bounds, and speak the truth as they find it to the uttermost consequences, and be responsible not to any outside authority of any kind, either ecclesiastical or biblical, but only to their own conscience. It maintains an institution wherein a welcome is given to every person, honest, sincere, consecrated to the truth, whatever prophet they may follow, whatever scripture they may read, by whatever name they may call their god, in whatever language they may speak their prayers, and whatever doctrine they may formulate the truth which they may chance to find. Our mission is to demonstrate to the world that nothing is so sacred as truth, that nothing is so divine as freedom, that nothing has any authority but reason and conscience.
Reflection: ‘Gender: A Matter of Conscience’ by Dr. Lochlann Binney
It might seem strange to begin a reflection about gender with a rather dense historical reading about the principles of Unitarianism – but to me, the two things are deeply entwined.
Our Unitarian movement was founded on the idea of freedom of conscience. When Theophilus Lindsey and others set up our very own Essex Church in the 18th century, it was to create a home for their dissenting beliefs: that everyone should have the freedom to worship as their conscience dictated, and to follow the religious doctrine of their choice, in community and in safety. Unitarianism became a place where these then criminal ideas could, by being protected, be shared and explored.
As Unitarianism has developed through the centuries, those original twinned ideas of diversity of thought and of individual truth-seeking, two sides of the same coin, have become bedrocks of our religion. We celebrate the flower communion every year in September, each of us bringing a flower to make a communal bouquet and taking away a different one, to represent the beauty and enrichment of diversity. We worked as a movement to promote marriage for all, earlier in our own century. We learn from spiritual and religious teachings of all kinds on Sundays, and we all think differently about those teachings, about God, about almost everything. We are here not to learn one single capital-T Truth, but to accompany each other in loving community as we all seek out the lowercase truths which serve us best in life.
One of these truths, for each of us, is our gender, and I’d like to invite you as Unitarians today to think of gender in similar terms to our ancestors’ original dissenting faith: as a matter of conscience; something each of us is doing in our own way, because of the promptings of our souls.
Think about what came up for you during our meditation. Some of you might be very attached to your gender, and to what that means in the world. Some of you might not care so much. Some of you will have changed your relationship to gender over time; some of you might simply never have considered it before. I can’t tell, from the outside, which is true for each of you, or indeed what language you’d use to describe your gender – man or woman or neither, masculine or feminine or a combination of the two, trans or cis or non-binary or something else. Gender is a private, internal, deeply personal truth that profoundly affects the way we move through the world, and we should, all of us, whether gender conforming or gender radicals, have the freedom to explore the truth of ourselves, and to live openly as our consciences dictate.
This is something our wider movement affirms: our Unitarian General Assembly’s affirms that, ‘the right to an honest and personal expression of gender identity is indivisible from freedom of conscience and from freedom of religion. [...] to speak the truth about ones’ own self is a deeply spiritual act of conscience, and one that deserves to be celebrated.’
But we live in a world where conformity is king, and violently imposed; just as in the eighteenth century, those of us whose deep promptings of conscience take us beyond the preordained conclusions the world has given us are increasingly under threat. How, when it is more and more dangerous to be trans, or to dissent from the gender binary in any way, can we foster the kind of freedom of conscience that is essential to live truly? As the Rev John H. Dietrich said: ‘People will be more likely to find the truth if they are free to search for it than if they are threatened or frightened, or if they are compelled to come to certain preordained conclusions that have been settled for them.’
This church is one answer. I like to think of Essex Church today, as it was originally, as a community of dissent: a place where we can keep outsiders safe from the violence of the world through our acceptance and our love. It certainly has been for me, throughout my own transition.
But while trans people are a marginalised group who need protecting in places like this, as very existence of Transgender Day of Remembrance makes clear, we are not only that. As Theophilus Lindsey and his fellow travellers showed, nonconformists are essential to everyone’s freedom. People living trans or non-binary lives, gender nonconforming lives, show that there are possibilities beyond those we are given: that we are never stuck in our current lives. As Shon Faye wrote in The Transgender Issue (which there’s still just about time to read before our book club next week!): ‘We [trans people] are symbols of hope for many non-trans people, who see in our lives the possibility of living more fully and freely. [...] Our existence enriches this world.’
So as freedom-encouraging, truth-seeking Unitarians today, I’d invite you to do two things. The first is to listen to trans people’s stories, their variety and scope and nuance. Seek our trans stories in whatever media you already consume: for me, that’s books and podcasts (I particularly like the history podcast Queer As Fact), but maybe it’s a TV show or YouTuber or social media account for you. As that GA motion I quoted earlier concludes, ‘No-one owes a duty to share what can be very private matters. It is always a personal choice how and when, and to what audience. But when people on this journey do find power to speak their deeply considered truth, it is an astonishing privilege to hear and witness.’ We can learn from these nonconforming lives, and we should enrich our own by doing so.
I would also invite you to keep seeking out the truth of yourself, wherever that seeking may lead. This church community is an expansive place where we can, each in our own way and building on the teachings of nonconformists past and present, discover our own deeply considered truths, and begin to find the words for them. Your seeking may confirm what you already know to be true – and how much more true that reality will be after deeper consideration and discernment – or it may cause you some upheaval – in which case, we’re here for you as you tread that path. As the Rev Dietrich said: ‘Freedom then for the sake of finding the truth, that is the fundamental principle of Unitarianism.’
May we as Unitarians work to make a world where people are free to find the truth of themselves, and where those who transition beyond the preordained conclusions we’ve all been given are protected and celebrated for their truth and their wisdom. And may we, as part of that work, look inwards to our own truth, plumb the depths of ourselves and hold fast to the truths we find there.
May it be so, for the greater good of all.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘The Church Where Love Lives’
Time for one last hymn now and it’s a favourite in this community: ‘The Church Where Love Lives’.
The church where love lives is a safe place for all
Where we gather in wonder to remember God’s call,
To embody God’s vision of kindness and care
With each song that we offer, with each protest and prayer.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
The church where love lives draws the stranger inside,
Making neighbours of strangers, not a neighbour denied,
Till there’s heaven on earth and God’s will has been done,
Till the whole of creation is restored to its home.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
The church where love lives is preparing a feast
For the pained and rejected, for the lost and the least,
For the ones filled with terror, and those filled with shame.
Come and sit at our table. Love has called you by name.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
Announcements:
Thanks to Lochlann for their reflection. Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Abby and Jack for lovely music today – it’s Jack’s first time playing for us – thank you for stepping in. Thanks to Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Jasmine and Brian for reading. Thanks to Marianne for greeting and Julia for making coffee. If you are in-person do stay for cake (I’ve made two cakes! Lemon Layer Cake, and Apple and Sultana).
We’re going to need a bit of practical assistance from everyone straight after today’s service. Lochlann is going to be gathering here with friends and family for a special renaming ceremony at 1pm, which means we’ve got a quite short turnaround time to rearrange the room, so we’d really appreciate it if you could relocate yourself and your belongings into the hall fairly swiftly. There’s no need to stack your chairs but if you could move them to the side of the room that would help.
Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week our theme is ‘Support’ – email Jane if you want to join us. There’s also an in-person Heart and Soul this week on Wednesday at 7pm so please let Jane know if you’re coming along to that.
Sonya is back with Nia Dance on Friday at 12.30pm.
In case you hadn’t already heard: the Festive Tea Dance has had to be called off but we’ve got plenty of other events coming up over the festive season – our big carol service and lunch on the 21st Dec – our candlelit Christmas Eve gathering – and two midwinter mini-retreats for you to look forward to.
Next Sunday I’ll be leading our service with help from Azita on the philosophy of ‘Ubuntu’.
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. Just time for our closing words and closing music now.
Benediction: based on words by Jean M. Rickard
We have a calling in this world:
We are called to honour diversity,
To respect differences with dignity,
And to challenge those who would forbid it.
We are people of a wide path.
So let us be wide in affection
And go our way in peace. Amen.
Closing Music: Survivor by Pam Wedgwood (performed by Abby Lorimier and Jack Campbell)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
23rd November 2025


