Good Faith

Sunday Service, 8th June 2025

Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

Musical Prelude: Allemande –  from the B Minor French Suite, BWV 814 (Bach) (performed by George Ireland)  

Opening Words: ‘In Faith’ by Sunshine Jeremiah Wolfe (adapted)

This is a congregation that gathers in faith.

We gather in faith of the power of diversity, the power of love,

and the hope of a world transformed by our care.

We gather in faith in ourselves and those around us.

Not a faith that requires perfection or rightness in one another.

Rather, a faith that in our shared imperfection we may learn to stumble and fall together.

Faith that we will help one another to rise and to try again and again. 

We gather to engage and re-engage with the path towards peace and justice.

This morning, let us take another step along that long road, as we

do what we can to perfect this precious world together. (pause)

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

These words from Sunshine Jeremiah Wolfe 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 ‘Good Faith’. I’ve had a few conversations lately about the nature of faith and it’s reminded me what a slippery word ‘faith’ can be. Hard to pin down. In the more mainstream religious traditions it might be a little easier to define the concept with reference to particular beliefs we might hold. But it’s not so clear for Unitarians. So this morning I’m going to invite you to reflect on what faith means to you personally, and what it means for us to be a people of faith collectively, when we belong to such a free religious tradition and we tend to be so theologically diverse.

As a leaping-off point I want to offer the words from the Buddhist teacher Sharon Salzberg, which are on the order of service, and on our website: 'I want to invite a new use of the word faith, one that is not associated with a dogmatic religious interpretation or divisiveness. I want to encourage delight in the word, to help reclaim faith as fresh, vibrant, intelligent, and liberating... Faith does not require a belief system, and is not necessarily connected to a deity or God, though it doesn’t deny one. This faith is an inner quality that unfolds as we learn to trust our deepest experience.'

Chalice Lighting: ‘For Faith, Hope, and Love’ by Jane Blackall

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 this chalice as a reminder of the tradition that holds us,

and the values and aspirations we share as a community:

our commitment to the common good,

and our yearning for a better world that’s yet to be,

where all may know true freedom, justice, equality, and peace.

May this small flame be for us a sign of faith, hope, and love.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘We Sing the Faith’

Our first hymn this morning is on your hymn sheet: ‘We Sing the Faith’. We haven’t got Benjie or Edwin to help us with the singing today so I’ve picked familiar tunes. For those on zoom the words will be up on screen for all our hymns. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer. Sing up as best you can!

We sing the faith, which gives us confidence

for human dwelling in the vast immense

and finding there within the great unknown

that there's a cosmic law and order shown.

We sing the hope, which shows us there are ways

for living through our very darkest days

and glimpse beyond a path which leads us on

to find the place where new days have begun.

We sing the love, which is creation's law,

and in a single whole its parts will draw;

and since parts turn and swerve, collide and move,

forgiveness is the final form of love.

Faith, hope and love: we honour each and three

but there's one virtue which we all agree

stands out among the others far above

and that 'the greatest of the three is 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 & Reflection: based on words by Calvin Dame

Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on some words by Calvin Dame. 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)

May we this day be grateful for the gift of life which is ours,

remembering that today and always that the

precious life we have and hold is to us a mystery.

May we this day be reminded of the responsibilities we carry,

not so that we may be intimidated or overwhelmed,

but so that we may be true to them,

so that we may be faithful in carrying them forward.

May we this day maintain a sense of perspective,

remembering who we are, engaging the tasks at hand,

but understanding our limitations, understanding our own shortcomings,

forgiving ourselves and others when we fall short of perfection.

May we this day be inspired, be filled with new breath,

be filled with new enthusiasm, ready to see fresh possibilities,

new perspectives, unnoticed avenues for fruitful action and resolution.

And may we this day remember those virtues

that bless our lives and bless the lives of others,

the virtues of caring and concern,

the virtues of truthfulness and integrity,

the virtues of charity, good work, and persistence,

remembering that this world may yet be made a little

more fair, more just, more equitable, by our humble efforts,

as we stand up to be counted, when it matters, and live according to our faith. (pause)   

And let us take a few quiet moments now to look inward, to 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 questions or uncertainties we are faced with. What hopes we nurture. (pause)

And from that place of realness – silently, inwardly, ask for what you most need – don’t get too hung up on who or what you’re asking – maybe it’s God, maybe you’re casting it out into the Universe. Even if you’re the only one to hear your prayer – be clear on what you need in this moment. (pause)

And let us also be sure to give thanks for what we already have. Let us look back on the week and recall all those moments – large or small – of kindness, generosity, comfort – even moments of joy. Silently, inwardly, take the time to savour those gifts, connect with gratitude, and take in the good. (pause)

And let us turn outwards now, shifting our attention to the world around us, from those who are closest to our heart, to neighbours and strangers, our wider community, stretching ever onward, as we sense our connection to every living being we share this planet with, and hold them all in 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: ‘Faith’ by Jeanne Harrison Nieuwejaar (excerpt, adapted) (read by Brian)

Rabbi Lawrence Kushner tells the story of visiting a Hebrew School and asking the children there how many of them believe in God. To his dismay, not a single hand went up. Eventually he thought to ask instead how many of them ever felt close to God. Showing no awareness of the contradiction, every child raised a hand. They talked about feeling close to God when helping their parents, when lighting Sabbath candles, when they felt angry and sad at a grandparent’s death. Too often it seems we get hung up on the question of “believing in” when what really matters is “closeness to” – or faith.

H. Richard Niebuhr writes, ‘The belief that something exists is an experience of a wholly different order from the experience of reliance on it.’ An this experience of reliance, of faith, lies at the core of the religious life.

We know how to develop systems of belief – by preaching and teaching, participating in discussions, singing songs, and telling stories. But faith is another matter. Nourishing this feeling of reliance, of trust, in the lived experiences of our community members is a significant task in our Unitarian congregations.

As we strive to create safe communities, and to foster intimacy and ultimacy, in the small-group ministries of our congregations, we work to deepen faith. As we discern meaningful opportunities for living our faith – in soup kitchens, at hospital bedsides, in the ceaseless work of advocacy and protest for the common good – we support and strengthen this dimension of our living. This work that we do in the world is embodied faith. And as we shape the world around us to be more whole and healthy, more hopeful and just, those feelings of wholeness and hope grow within us as well. It is the true work of our congregations; we are people of faith.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘Church Is More Than Just a Building’

Thanks Brian. Let’s sing again – our second hymn is also on your hymn sheet – new words to an old tune: ‘Church is More than Just a Building’. This was written by Amanda Udis-Kessler who has written several of our new favourites – ‘The Church Where Love Lives’ and ‘Who Is My Neighbour’ – this was one she wrote in 2020 during the lockdowns but I think the message is still valid – the church is not the building – it’s the community of faith and shared purpose – let’s sing in that spirit.

Church is more than just a building,

more than wood or metal or brick.

Church is how we love our neighbour.

Church is how we tend to the sick,

Feed the hungry and heal the suffering,

welcome strangers and give to the poor.

All our service is as worship,

all our presence an open door.

Church is more than a weekly gathering.

Church is faith that’s come alive,

Filling hearts and minds with passion,

peace and hope that ever abide.

Even when our building’s empty,

we are touched by the deepest of grace.

When the holy lives within us

we are in a holy place.

We’re the church in the path we follow,

showing care to those in pain.

In the midst of fear and sorrow,

we’re the church and here we’ll remain,

Seeking justice, showing kindness,

singing praises in all that we do.

Church is more than just a building.

It’s our work toward a world made new.

Online Reading: ‘Religion at Its Best’ by Sarah Gibb Millspaugh (read by Lochlann)

Religion is as much about faith in humanity as it is about faith in deity. And many of us will find that, over and over, our faith in humanity gets tested. We are immersed in a culture that's deeply corrupted by selfishness, greed, and oppression-borne privilege and fear. It's all too easy for us humans to justify the dehumanization, ostracization, suffering, and death of others. It's all too easy for us to devalue some humans' lives, and feel, somehow, like we're still good upstanding moral people.

Religion at its best asks us to do better than this: to rise above the selfishness and status-seeking, the othering and xenophobia that come so easily to us human beings. Religion at its best — and our Unitarian faith — calls us to honour that which is sacred in each person, even those we might hate. It impels us to accept, on faith, that there is a sacred spark, a worthy spark, in every person. This can sound mundane but it's very radical — revolutionary even. Each person, sacred. Each person, worthy.

Accepting this, on faith, changes how we live. In this time when so many of us live in fear and despair of a dehumanizing political climate, let us renew our pledge to live out those sacred and humane teachings that draw us toward compassion, love, and justice in ever-widening circles of care.

Words for Meditation: ‘What Does Faith Mean to You?’ by Laura Dobson

Thanks Lochlann. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share just a few words from my friend Laura Dobson, minister with Chorlton Unitarians, giving her personal perspective of faith as a precursor to inviting our own reflection. Those words will take us into a few minutes of shared silence which will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear some music for meditation. So let’s do what we need to do to get comfortable – adjust your position if you need to – perhaps put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – maybe 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.

Laura writes: It is hard to describe my faith,

beyond that it is a faith in love as our ultimate purpose.

What I can tell you is what it means to me to be a woman of faith;

how my faith compels me to try to treat others with respect and compassion;

how my faith allows me to be comfortable with ambiguity;

how my faith helps me develop the confidence to step into the unknown

and try new things, to nurture them and to let them go if necessary;

how my faith helps me understand that I do not need to fix

disagreements and conflicts immediately or by myself;

how my faith teaches me to ask for help when I need it,

to learn from others and to remain open to change;

how, in faith, I allow life to unfold.

What does faith mean to you?

So as we move into this time of shared stillness I invite you to sit with that question:

What does faith mean to you?

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

Interlude: Sarabande – from the B Minor French Suite, BWV 814 (Bach) (performed by George Ireland) 

Reading: ‘Faith is a Verb’ by Frank Clarkson (excerpts, adapted) (read by Jasmine)

Our theme today is faith. I wonder, when you hear that word, what it evokes in you. Does it make you smile, or does it cause you to tense up? If you hear, “Let’s talk about faith,” does that feel like an invitation, or a test? Maybe both?

It seems that faith is seen as a difficult word that many people are happy to avoid. I understand why, when faith has too often been used to control and exclude and oppress. When faith is treated as a like a gate: you have to say the magic words, and believe them, or pretend to, in order to get in. But that’s not what faith is!

Faith is not about what about what you think or believe, it’s how you live. It’s how you act, and what you choose to do. Faith isn’t a thing you possess, it’s a practice, that can grow stronger over time. Adversity can help; sometimes faith appears when everything seems lost.

Martin Luther King, Jr. told a powerful story about his experience of this, early days of the Montgomery bus boycott, when his life and family were being threatened daily. On a dark night he was sitting alone at his kitchen table, unable to sleep, because of these death threats. He prayed, naming his doubts and fears, and a new faith came. He wrote:

“At that moment, I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced God before. It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice saying: ‘Stand up for justice, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever.’ Almost at once my fears began to go. My uncertainty disappeared. I was ready to face anything.”

Does faith necessarily involve God or some kind of higher power? I’d say not necessarily, but that faith does involve something larger than one’s own ego. Which is often the part of our selves that resist faith, and is threatened by it; that tells us faith is unreasonable, impractical, a dream.

Too often people talk of faith like it’s a thing you either have or you don’t; “He was a wonderful person until he lost his faith.” Or faith is seen as signing on to a particular creed or set of belief, like a secret handshake. And often faith is equated with certainty; it has to be unshakeable to be faith at all. But isn’t faith richer and more nuanced and more beautiful than that? Isn’t faith holding on to hope when you don’t know how? Isn’t it the following of a vocation when you don’t know where it will lead? Isn’t that what faith is? It’s not what we say or think or even believe; faith is what we do, how we act, how we move through our days and our lives. That’s what faith is—moving forward when you can’t see what’s just ahead, but still, taking that next step. Faith is a verb.

Reflection: ‘Good Faith’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall  

Thanks Jasmine. So today we’re exploring this concept of faith. This is a bit of a generalisation but over the years I’ve picked up the impression that a lot of us who end up in Unitarian congregations are a bit uncertain, or ambivalent – or even squeamish – about the very notion of faith (perhaps in large part because we’re not entirely sure what it means). Do we really want to call ourselves ‘people of faith’ collectively, or consider ourselves as ‘having faith’ personally, when the way the word is often used in common parlance gives it a number of connotations that we might not feel entirely at ease with?

In the main, I think, people tend to associate faith with belief in something particular. Probably belief in God – with ‘God’ being understood in a very particular way, a way that’s probably derived from the dominant religious tradition of our local culture which we reference by default – and also with ‘belief’ being understood in a very particular way, in the sense of an intellectual agreement that God exists, and that a certain collection theological doctrines that go with it are true, probably literally true.

As Unitarians we probably already know, intellectually at least, that religion doesn’t really work like this, or at least it doesn’t have to. Of course, there are plenty of religious traditions that seem to emphasise belief – that put a lot of weight on subscribing to creeds or making declarations – that’s a practice I would tend to associate mostly with the evangelical churches. But we are part of a free, creedless religious tradition, and I think we know that there’s more than one way to be faithful (though perhaps our ambivalence and hesitancy around speaking of ‘faith’ comes from a sense that the more conservative traditions ‘own’ the word somehow? But, of course, that’s not the case). That’s why I shared those words from the Buddhist teacher Sharon Salzberg at the start of the service, to encourage us to reclaim the word, and to consider what faith means to us, how we might understand ourselves as progressive ‘people of faith’. She said: 'I want to invite a new use of the word faith, one that is not associated with a dogmatic religious interpretation or divisiveness. I want to encourage delight in the word, to help reclaim faith as fresh, vibrant, intelligent, and liberating...'

So where do we start? It would be remiss of me to speak about faith here without crediting Richard Boeke, a Unitarian minister who sadly died just a few weeks ago at the age of 95 (and I want to pause to note that Richard’s wife Jopie was also a Unitarian minister, and indeed served as interim minister here at Essex Church for a couple of years in the 1990s, which a few of us will recall). Richard, who was deeply engaged with questions of religious freedom and interfaith dialogue, spent many years wrestling with the meaning of ‘faith’ in that context, drawing on strands of wisdom from differing religious traditions, and he came to an understanding of faith as primarily being about trust. Richard made this observation: ‘In the Quran, the word amana means to have faith. On the other hand, zanna means to hold an opinion. In Christianity, Aquinas, Augustine, Bach, all bear witness that credo means what it says, “I place my heart.” [JB: that’s the etymology of the words ‘creed’ and ‘believe’] When Luther affirms “the just shall live by faith alone,” he does not mean, “the just shall live by the right mental decision.” Hebrews chapter 11 opens, “now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” This is not a discussion of intellectual assent, but of living trust.’

What I take from this is that faith means trusting in something beyond the rational. It’s about accepting that we can’t work everything out by ourselves – as wonderful as our human faculties might be – the universe we find ourselves in is too vast and complex for us to understand or control. We’re part of an immense dynamical system, thrown in with all the other people, and creatures, and planets, and atoms, all doing their own thing and bumping up against each other in challenging ways that we often can’t do a thing about. In life we will frequently find ourselves at the limits of our power – and that’s where faith comes in – this acknowledgement of something that’s beyond us. Speaking about faith in this way makes me think about the spiritual language of 12-step groups. They know: When life is unmanageable, when we are up against it, there is something to be said for surrender. Faith can liberate us from the mistaken thought that we can control everything, fix every problem, and put things right through the force our own individual efforts alone. Sometimes it’s the right thing to do to let go of our struggles and ‘hand them over to God’ or a higher power as we understand it. In tough times there can be a huge sense of relief, comfort, even liberation in letting go like this, in faith. But to quote Richard Boeke again: ‘Faith is not a matter of leaving it all to God, nor believing that we can do it all. Rather in the words of Paul Tillich, it is “finite freedom.” The affirmation that we cannot do everything, but we can do something. This beginning of faith was beautifully stated by Reinhold Niebuhr when he wrote [the serenity prayer]: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Of course this is still pretty mysterious. It depends on how you understand ‘God’ or ‘higher power’ (and whether you are prepared to engage with those concepts at all). I reckon it’s OK to adopt such an attitude before we fully understand it. Dive in. That’s what we mean by a ‘leap of faith’. I appreciate these words by William Sloane Coffin: ‘There is nothing anti-intellectual in the leap of faith, for faith is not believing without proof but trusting without reservation. Faith is no substitute for thinking. On the contrary, it is what makes good thinking possible. It has what we might call a limbering effect on the mind; by taking us beyond familiar ground, faith ends up giving us much more to think about.’

There’s a parallel I have heard – and possibly shared before – one which I like very much – a parallel between coming to faith and falling in love (or maybe committing to someone in marriage). The ‘leap of faith’ involved in both cases opens up more possibility, more depth, than you can reach while you are holding back and sitting on the sidelines. In both cases it is about giving your heart, making a commitment, and seeing where it leads, rather than constructing some sort of rational argument. If we are half-hearted or tentative about it we might just be missing out on something beautiful. And although there’s some moment in time when you make the leap, that’s not the end of the story, as with any ongoing relationship you have to make it work. You have to ‘do’ faith in the same way you have to ‘do’ love. As we heard in the last reading – faith is a verb – it has to shape how we actually live.

So maybe we can think of faith as a way of being in the world – a way of seeing – an attitude we take to the life and the universe, to everyone and everything we meet. A way of receiving and responding to the ups and downs that life brings our way – not passively or fatalistically – but deeply engaged – whilst also recognising the limits of our power and control. To quote Richard Boeke again: ‘Faith is… a responsibility in the face of ever-changing reality. The immature forms of faith or beliefs close us off from the world, until reality shatters our walls. Mature faith knows the terror and the void, knows the fear of rejection, and still reaches out in hope. In my search to define faith, I come to these words: “Faith is our perception of reality conditioned by relationship and ritual.”’

Or how about this take from the Zen teacher Alan Watts: ‘Faith… is an unreserved opening of the mind to the truth, whatever it may turn out to be. Faith has no preconceptions; it is a plunge into the unknown. You can only know God through an open mind just as you can only see the sky through a clear window.’ Or there’s this from the Lutheran theologian Paul Tillich: ‘Faith is not an acceptance of doctrines… but the acceptance of the power itself, out of which we come and to which we go, whatever the doctrines may be through which we accept it… a faith which can lose every concrete content and still exist as an absolute affirmation of life as life and of being as being.’ That phrase might take a moment to grasp but I like that sense of faith as something universal that remains constant regardless of the precise details of the tradition through which we come to find it. And, for those who like God-language, just one last quote from Rabbi Jonathan Sacks: ‘Faith does not mean certainty. It means the courage to live with uncertainty. It does not mean having the answers, it means having the courage to ask the questions and not let go of God, as [God] does not let go of us.’

This is all so tricky to articulate! But for me, faith is about trusting that there is an underlying Goodness to the universe – that’s something I’m happy to call ‘God’ – and God is trying to lure us all to join in with this Goodness, to recognise it, appreciate it, amplify it, actively participate in the creation of more of it, during this all-too-brief span when we’re alive here on Earth. Goodness might take many forms – we might experience it as love, truth, beauty, justice – but while we are alive, we are called to simultaneously surrender to the flow of life, and get stuck in, doing whatever we can to serve the common good and help nudge reality in a slightly better direction.  In this view we can see ourselves as part of a larger story, even as we endure disappointments and setbacks, as the moral arc bends towards justice and we trust that Good will prevail in the end. Or you might even frame it in more traditional language (I quite like it!) – faith commits us to the path of righteousness – striving to do God’s will – ultimately helping to build the Kingdom of God.

That’s my personal take on faith – or at least, it’s where I’m at with it today – and my inevitably slightly clumsy attempt to put the ineffable into words. But as this reflection draws to a close, let’s return to that question we meditated on earlier, and I encourage you to ponder it in the week ahead: What does faith mean to you? That’s a question to wrestle with for the whole of our lives, I reckon. And I look forward to hearing your responses over tea and cake, and in the weeks to come. Amen.

Hymn 208 (green): ‘Forward Through the Ages’

Let’s sing again. Our final hymn is number 208 in your green books: ‘Forward Through the Ages’. It’s quite a traditional and stirring hymn! Let’s give it our best and sing up.

Forward through the ages in unbroken line,

Move the faithful spirits at the call divine:

Gifts in differing measure, hearts of one accord,

Manifold the service, one the sure reward.

Forward through the ages in unbroken line,

Move the faithful spirits at the call divine.

Wider grows the kingdom, reign of love and light;

For it we must labour, till our faith is sight.

Prophets have proclaimed it, martyrs testified,

Poets sung its glory, heroes for it died.

Forward through the ages in unbroken line,

Move the faithful spirits at the call divine.

Not alone we conquer, not alone we fall;

In each loss or triumph lose or triumph all.

Bound by God's far purpose in one living whole,

Move we on together to the shining goal.

Forward through the ages in unbroken line,

Move the faithful spirits at the call divine.

Announcements:

Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Lochlann for co-hosting. Thanks to George for lovely music. Thanks to Brian, Lochlann, and Jasmine for reading. Thanks to Juliet for greeting and Marianne for making coffee. If you are here in-person – we’ve got berry lime drizzle cake.

Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week we’re considering ‘Desire’ – email me if you want to join us and I’ll share the link.

I’m afraid we haven’t got community singing this week – our singing leader has decided to take a summer break – I hope we’ll resume in September but I’ll keep you posted. No singing for now.

Next Sunday we’ve got the Art Play Crafternoon after the service – that’s just a relaxed hangout where we get the art and craft materials out of the cupboard or you can bring your own project – please let me know if you’re planning to come. With all these new initiatives we’re keeping an eye on numbers and how much demand there is so if you want it to exist please plan to support it.

Margaret’s singing group is on an irregular date this month – not the third Sunday – but the 29th.

This month’s Better World Book Club is on ‘They’ by Sarfraz Manzoor. We’ve got one copy left to lend out. Let me know if you want to join and I’ll send the link nearer the time. And all the titles for the rest of the year have now been announced so take a flyer if you want all the information.

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.  Or if you haven’t already got one why not take home a copy of our summer newsletter? They’re not cheap to produce, so we don’t to give them out willy-nilly to people who aren’t interested, but if you do know someone who might be interested in what we do then feel free to take an extra to give to them. As well as containing details and dates of upcoming events we include a few recent sermons to give a flavour of what our services are like. I posted them out to members this week, second class, so they may or may not have arrived yet…

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 James Galasinski

Our faith, like a light,

illuminates the path before us

so that we can

face hurt with love,

cultivate compassion,

live humbly in community,

and confront despair

with the awe of life.

Though we extinguish our chalice flame,

our faith shines bright before us.

Lighting our way as we step out in courage

and meet the days to come. Amen.

Closing Music: Gigue – from the B Minor French Suite, BWV 814 (Bach) (performed by George Ireland) 

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

8th June 2025