Hospitality as a Spiritual Practice
Updated: Sep 20
Sunday Service, 20 September 2026
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Songs My Mother Taught Me - Dvorak (performed by Holly Redshaw and Jack Campbell)
Opening Words: ‘All That We Share Is Sacred’ by Andrée Mol (adapted)
As we gather together this morning, may we remember:
When you share with me what is most important to you,
That is where listening begins.
When I show you that I hear you, when I say your life matters,
That is where compassion begins.
When I open the door to greet you,
That is where hospitality begins.
When I venture out to bring you to shelter,
That is where love begins.
When I risk my comfort to ease your suffering,
When I act against hatred and oppression,
That is where courage begins.
When I open my eyes and my heart to the burdens you carry,
When I affirm your profound worth and dignity,
That is where justice begins.
When we experience the full presence of each other,
Because of our shared humanity,
Because of our differences,
That is where holy gratitude begins.
Our gathering is not complete until all are welcome.
May this be a space of beauty where together
we create a series of miracles, and
where all that we share is sacred. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Andrée Mol 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 via Zoom, and anyone tuning in at a later date via YouTube or the podcast stream. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.
In this morning’s service we’ll be reflecting on ‘Hospitality as a Spiritual Practice’. Many of the world’s great religious traditions place a great emphasis on the practice of hospitality, and we can think about what that hospitality requires of us in different domains: at a personal level it might look like welcoming guests into our homes and looking after them generously; or at a societal level we might think more about welcoming refugees into our nation as a question of hospitality.
We’ll think about both of those aspects, but I particularly want to focus on what it might mean for us collectively, in this particular church community, to focus our attention on offering hospitality as a spiritual practice. There are some words which speak to this on the front of our order of service by theologian Christine Pohl who writes: ‘Communities in which hospitality is a vibrant practice tap into deep human longings to belong, find a place to share one’s gifts, and be valued. The practice of hospitality reflects a willingness on the part of a community of people to be open to others and to their insights, needs, and contributions. Hospitable communities recognize that they are incomplete without other folks but also that they have a “treasure” to share with them.’
Chalice Lighting: ‘Heart Full or Heart Empty’ by Krista Taves (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.
(light chalice)
Whether you have come here with heart full or heart empty,
with spirits high or low, rested or tired, hopeful or despairing,
Whether you have come here out of habit,
conviction, loneliness, or curiosity,
You belong here because you are here,
and all that you have and all that you are is welcome here.
As we light this chalice let us pledge our hearts
to co-creating this community of caring and goodwill.
Hymn 36 (purple): ‘For Everyone Born’
Let us sing together now. Our first hymn is number 36 in your purple books, ‘For Everyone Born, a Place at the Table’. For those joining on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.
For everyone born, a place at the table,
for everyone born, clean water and bread,
a shelter, a space, a safe place for growing,
for everyone born, a star overhead.
And God will delight
when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight
when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
For woman and man, a place at the table,
revising the role, deciding the share,
with wisdom and grace, dividing the power,
for woman and man, a system that’s fair.
And God will delight
when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight
when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
For young and for old, a place at the table,
a voice to be heard, a part in the song,
the hands of a child in hands kind and wrinkled
for young and for old, the right to belong.
And God will delight
when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight
when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
For just and unjust a place at the table,
abuser, abused, how hard to forgive,
in anger, in hurt, a mindset of mercy,
for just and unjust, a new way to live.
And God will delight
when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight
when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
For everyone born, a place at the table,
to live without fear, and simply to be,
to work, to speak out, to witness and worship,
for everyone born, the right to be free.
And God will delight
when we are creators of justice and joy,
yes, God will delight
when we are creators of justice, justice and joy!
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 Tamara Lebak
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. The prayer is based on words by Tamara Lebak. You might want to adjust your position, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever helps you get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – be fully present – 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)
We gather this day to be reminded of the sacred in the ordinary.
The holy moments of waking yet again to a new day.
The feel of the earth beneath our feet
The sun and the breeze on our skin
The joy of being welcomed by our fellow travellers
The warmth of this gathered community.
Help us this day to be fully present in our living,
awake to each breath, attentive to the possibilities.
Remind us that Life is taking place in the in-between,
the seasons of lethargy, disappointment, and frustration,
as well as in our lofty goals and peak experiences.
Remind us that the detours and the details
craft the path, and make it our own.
Help us to remember that we did not make this day.
But that we have the pleasure to greet each moment as it unfolds;
To reach out and embrace it wholeheartedly as though it were
an honoured guest who has come a long way just to see us (pause)
In a few moments of shared stillness now, let us call to mind those people and situations who
are on our hearts this morning, thinking of all those issues that concern us close to home, and
those troubled places the world over, and let us hold them gently in loving-kindness. (pause)
And let us hold ourselves in loving-kindness too. Each of us carries our own private burdens.
Life is tough for so many right now; we are all too aware of life’s struggles and hardships.
So let us rest in self-compassion now as we ask silently for what we need this day. (pause)
And let us take a moment to reflect on the week just gone in a spirit of gratitude; let us notice
and give thanks for all those blessings, large or small, that have helped to lift our spirits. Maybe we can prepare our hearts to recognise and receive life’s goodness in the week ahead. (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.
Reading: ‘Welcoming Strangers’ by Linda Berman (excerpt, adapted) (Sonya)
Hospitality may be defined as welcoming another into our space, with a view to looking after them. It is a much bigger concept than merely ‘entertaining’ another, so much deeper and more meaningful.
Hospitality is not only about opening your door; it is about opening your heart and your soul. It involves creating places both within yourself, in a psychological way, and outside, around yourself. These places are designed to receive and embrace, rather than to devise methods of exclusion. We need to make boundaries between self and another more elastic, translate across vernaculars, offer greeting, help, invitation, compassion.
The world belongs to all of us, and no-one has more rights to it than anyone else. Having enough compassion to realise this fact, and being open to sharing and extending our hospitality to all human and non-human, sentient beings, is paramount. So many of the great minds and thinkers in history have come to this same conclusion.
Each of us is a blend of the other, a melange of races and cultures, and a part of an infinite, larger whole. Therefore, instead of thinking in terms of creating outsiders and building walls and fictional divisions, it is important to remember this fact and to contemplate commonality and inclusion. We share the world with others; it is not ours to own or claim. Thinking that we ‘own’ our country, or our national identity exclusively, is a myth. We can always find a way to welcome others and offer sanctuary.
In order to be hospitable, and to work together with good intentions, we need empathy. We develop empathy through awareness of our own pain, and through being as free as we can from prejudice and racism against ‘the other.’ Without it, we cannot feel into another’s world, into their emotions and their distress. Without such self-awareness, we will be unable to experience deep understanding for another and will have no real affinity with their plight. It will not be possible to ‘walk in their shoes.’ We can only do this if we can identify with others in need, if we can know the pain within them, because we know something similar in ourselves.
Berman’s reflection closes with some words attributed to Albert Schweitzer: “Until he extends the circle of his compassion to all living things, man will not himself find peace.”
Hymn (on sheet): ‘Break Not the Circle’
Let’s sing again – our second hymn is on your hymn sheet – ‘Break Not the Circle’. I really love the message of this hymn – that we should keep being ever more inclusive – inviting more people to join our circle ‘til it embraces all the living’. Maybe we’ll hear this one through before we sing.
Break not the circle of enabling love
Where people grow, forgiven and forgiving;
Break not that circle, make it wider still,
Till it includes, embraces all the living.
Come, wonder at this love that comes to life,
Where words of freedom are with humour spoken,
And people keep no score of wrong and guilt,
But will that human bonds remain unbroken.
Join then the movement of the love that frees,
Till people of whatever race or nation
Will truly be themselves, stand on their feet,
See eye to eye with laughter and elation.
Reading: ‘Recovering the Tradition of Hospitality’ by Christine Pohl (excerpts, adapted) (Patricia)
In past centuries, welcoming strangers into a home and offering them food, shelter, and protection were the key components of the practice of hospitality. Today, when we think of hospitality, we don’t think first of welcoming strangers. We might picture having friends over for a pleasant meal. Or we think of the “hospitality industry”, hotels and restaurants, which are open to strangers as long as they have money or credit cards. These days, we rarely see hospitality as a spiritual obligation, or a dynamic expression of our vibrant faith.
Those of us with resources can usually avoid depending on the personal hospitality of strangers for food, shelter, and safety. Most of us are unlikely to know what it is to be a vulnerable stranger needing someone else’s help. In a highly individualistic society, depending on the generosity of others is difficult, and sometimes feels degrading. But even those of us who do not depend on hospitality to meet our basic needs still know something of the joy of being welcomed warmly. We also know the pain of being excluded.
In many other societies, hospitality to strangers remains a highly valued practice, an important expression of kindness, mutual aid, neighbourliness, and a response to the life of faith. In a number of ancient civilisations, hospitality was viewed as a pillar on which all morality rested; it encompassed “the good”. For the people of ancient Israel, understanding themselves as strangers and sojourners, with a responsibility to care for vulnerable strangers in their midst, was part of what it meant to be the people of God. Jesus urged his hosts to open their dinner tables to more than family and friends who could return the favour, to give generous welcome to the poor and sick, who had little to offer in return.
For most of the history of the church, hospitality was understood to encompass physical, social, and spiritual dimensions of human existence and relationships. It was a recognition of their worth and common humanity. Historically, table fellowship was an important way of recognising the equal value and dignity of persons. Even a superficial review of church history reveals the importance of hospitality to the spread and credibility of the gospel, to transcending ethnic distinctions in the church, and to offering care for strangers and pilgrims. And now? We struggle to find better ways to respond to people experiencing homelessness, people with disabilities, immigrants and refugees. Questions about diversity and inclusion, boundaries, and community confront us daily. We search for more personal ways to respond to those who are alienated. In many cases, we feel as if we are strangers ourselves, even in our own families and churches, and we long for bonds that give life and meaning.
Is it possible that by looking back we can find resources for moving forward? Public discussions about “deserving vs. undeserving” poor, or whether people will take advantage of generous hospitality, and whether it is too risky to respond to strangers, are as ancient as early Christian texts and as current as today’s talk shows. But practitioners of hospitality from centuries past can teach us from their wisdom and their struggles. Recovering the tradition of hospitality suggests the possibility that in revitalising an ancient practice, we may discover some radical and fresh responses to contemporary difficulties.
Words for Meditation: ‘Red Brocade’ by Naomi Shihab Nye
We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness, I’m going to share a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye, which paints a picture of hospitality, something for us to meditate on. After that, we will hold 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 – adjust your position – put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – close your eyes. As ever, these words are just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
‘Red Brocade’ by Naomi Shihab Nye
The Arabs used to say,
When a stranger appears at your door,
feed him for three days
before asking who he is,
where he’s come from,
where he’s headed.
That way, he’ll have strength
enough to answer.
Or, by then you’ll be
such good friends
you don’t care.
Let’s go back to that.
Rice? Pine nuts?
Here, take the red brocade pillow.
My child will serve water
to your horse.
No, I was not busy when you came!
I was not preparing to be busy.
That’s the armour everyone put on
to pretend they had a purpose
in the world.
I refuse to be claimed.
Your plate is waiting.
We will snip fresh mint
into your tea.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Dance of the Blessed Spirits - Glück (performed by Holly Redshaw and Jack Campbell)
Reading: ‘Welcome All Souls’ by Tom Owen-Towle (excerpts, adapted) (Roy)
The following piece, by Unitarian Universalist minister Tom Owen-Towle, was written about twenty-five years ago. It’s from his book, ‘Growing a Beloved Community’, which reflects rigorously on how we might put our Unitarian ideals into practice if our congregations are to live up to our aspirations. What is it that we need to do in practice to make our communities little microcosms of the Beloved Community, or the Kingdom of God? How can we truly be the change we want to see in the world? In this excerpt, titled ‘Welcome All Souls’, he reflects on the spiritual practice of hospitality in our churches. He writes:
The mission of every Unitarian community is to offer an open door to all souls, then to be good hosts, lovingly attending to those who choose to join our household. Outsiders are kindly welcomed and sensitively treated once inside. Extending the hand of fellowship, and steadfast caregiving, comprises the hospitable rhythm of a community of faith. Mature church life begins with hospitality, the most ancient religious rite, hallowed in every tradition – at least in writ, if less successfully in practice. All of us, in one way or another, at one time or another, are the caves in which others find shelter and kinship through the ritual bond of hospitality.
In the First Church of San Diego, we regularly say the following affirmation at the beginning of our services: ‘Welcome, one and all, to our Unitarian Universalist religious community. We welcome you, whoever you are, whatever tradition, gender, race, sexual orientation, or age you represent. In our presence may you walk the ways of truthfulness, service, and holiness. And through all your days and nights in our presence may you experience love.’
On paper this is a pretty solid statement, but on reviewing it recently, I noticed two oversights. First, we left out class, an often ignored category, particularly given the overwhelmingly middle-class make-up of many Unitarian churches. And the phrase “may you walk” assumes that everyone is able-bodied. There are people in almost every congregation who aren’t able to walk.
Clearly, one could ferret out some flaw or another in the well-intentioned welcoming words or mission statements found in any of our liberal churches, and we repeatedly fall short of our ideals. However, our goal remains to become, without growing obsessive, gradually more inclusive – paying sincere attention to who might be left out in our hymn or reading selections, where representation is lacking – or in all the practices of congregational life. Healthy congregations discover new ways to be genuinely expansive, while realising that people are fallible, and our churches will keep missing the mark.
Tom Owen-Towle closes with some excerpts from a membership ceremony in his own church which sum up the essentials of this message to the newcomer: ‘We are happy that you are with us. We gladly share with you in everything that strengthens this congregation. And we stand with you against anything that will injure or weaken it. We believe that membership in our beloved community will enrich and enlarge your life as well as ours. We need your gifts. We offer you ours. Know well that in our membership you are truly accepted to come as you are and to grow who you wish to become.’
Hymn (on sheet): ‘God Values All’
Let’s sing again – our next hymn is on your hymn sheet – I’ve given it the title ‘God Values All’ but it actually first came to me with the title ‘Hymn at a Time When People Feel Excluded’. The words are a bit more directly Christian than our typical fare and I thought about adapting them to be more general but nothing else I could come up with quite said what the original did so let’s do our own translations as needed. It’s a tune that is reasonably well-known (usually sung at Easter as the tune to ‘Life’s Rebirth’) I think we’d better hear one verse through before we sing. Thanks Jack.
God, save us from the platitudes,
the empty prayers and hollow praise
that blind us to hypocrisy
of every thoughtless word or phrase.
O take us, mend us, make us one
until your work on earth is done.
When pride and selfishness demand
our rights when others suffer hurt,
when greed and use of wealth exploit
and push our neighbours in the dirt
yes, take us, mend us, make us one
until your work on earth is done.
Within a world of fear-built walls
of colour, social class or creed,
God, help us look with Christ-lit eyes
for Christ within another's need;
O, take us, mend us, make us one
until your work on earth is done.
O God of fundamental grace
in which your church has grown and stands,
great God of self-denying love
may hatred die in every land.
Yes, take us, mend us, make us one
until your peace on earth is won.
Then graceful hospitality
may welcome angels unaware,
until your all-inclusive love
spans though all time, is everywhere,
for by your grace we now are one,
your hope is gained, your work is done.
Mini-Reflection: ‘Hospitality as a Spiritual Practice’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Today’s service was originally inspired by this book – ‘Unreasonable Hospitality’ by Will Guidara – which was recommended by my colleague, Rev. Stephanie Bisby. At first glance, it might seem a surprising choice of text to use as a jumping-off point for a service, as it tells the story of how a struggling New York brasserie, Eleven Madison Park, came to be awarded the title of ‘the best restaurant in the world’.
This was a significant transformation; it took them a decade to turn things around. Apparently the food was already excellent before they started out on this journey; so what changed? They focused on providing hospitality that was so memorable, in some instances so preposterously over-the-top, that they came to describe it as ‘unreasonable hospitality’. They took exquisite care of the people who came through their doors. Don’t be mistaken – that doesn’t mean endlessly, intrusively, fussing over their guests – but it means being present, paying close attention to them, anticipating their particular needs, and every now and then going the extra mile, showing extraordinary generosity, in order to create a mind-blowing experience.
In our readings this morning we’ve heard about the centrality of hospitality in traditional cultures – how it was historically regarded as a spiritual obligation of sorts – to welcome strangers and offer them the basic needs of life. How to do this graciously – not grudgingly – but with generosity of spirit. And this is a very practical way of acknowledging the ‘inherent worth and dignity’ of every person that we so often speak about as the foundational principle of our Unitarian faith. We’ve already sung together today: ‘for everyone born, a place at the table’, and ‘break not the circle of enabling love… make it wider still, till it includes, embraces all the living’.
When we talk about ‘hospitality as a spiritual practice’ it’s something we can aspire to in various dimensions of our lives. First, we might think about it on a personal level: welcoming people into our homes, offering them food and drink, maybe even a place to stay over if we’re lucky enough to have that much space to call our own. On one level it’s about sharing our good fortune – our resources – with others. And if everybody participates in this culture of hospitality, it’s ultimately a culture of equals – what goes around comes around – we all switch between giving and receiving.
Personal hospitality is not just about the material aspects of care, though – not just about offering the tasty meal or the well-made bed – important as they may be. It’s about creating the space, the conditions, for a meaningful relationship to emerge. Like we heard in the poem by Naomi Shihab Nye: ‘feed him for three days / before asking who he is, / where he’s come from, / where he’s headed. / That way, he’ll have strength / enough to answer. / Or, by then you’ll be / such good friends / you don’t care.’ It’s about giving time and attention – really listening – being curious about the other and sharing of yourself. As we heard in the piece that Sonya read: ‘Hospitality is not only about opening your door; it is about opening your heart and your soul.’
A crucial aspect of hospitality is paying attention to how we make others feel. And that means that the recipe for brilliant hospitality can’t be ‘one-size-fits-all’. Every individual has their own unique needs, preferences, aversions. So to be truly hospitable we must take that into account – be present and attentive to the honoured guest who is in front of us – and then tailor our welcome accordingly. As an aside: I am a bit of a nightmare as a guest! So, I don’t often go and visit anyone. I’ve got a quirky bundle of dietary restrictions and I feel bad about the likelihood that I wouldn’t want to eat whatever someone might want to cook for me. So rather than burden the host with my fussiness I opt out of being a guest. Or people who know me well will say ‘it’s alright, you can bring your own sandwich’! This business of being a good host and a good guest can be a tricky dance.
While reading up on this I came across the notion of ‘scruffy hospitality’, which was very pleasing to me, as someone who lives in a rather scruffy home! The definition I read was that ‘scruffy hospitality… prioritizes people, warmth, and authentic connection over a spotless home or an elaborate meal’. The most welcoming sort of hospitality is not necessarily the poshest, or most lavish, offering; instead it makes the guest feel at ease (I can assure you: anyone who comes to my house doesn’t have to worry about what special fork they’re supposed to be using!). In fact, just this week I said to a friend, ‘do you want to come round and we’ll get a takeaway from Nando’s’, and I think that went down far better than if I’d spent all afternoon stressing about cooking something elaborate to suit our respective dietary needs. It meant we could focus on each other’s company and having a great conversation. And in a way, letting people in to see your life as it really is, no matter how scruffy, is giving them a kind of VIP access! It shows a certain level of trust and vulnerability – to reveal your true self – and that is the basis for building a genuine connection.
Another aspect of hospitality we could ponder is as a societal level. If we recognise hospitality as a spiritual obligation – if we consider it a duty to welcome strangers, and meet their basic needs for life, a duty which was so central to our forebears – then this speaks very plainly to how we should collectively be treating refugees, as we heard in the reading from Christine Pohl, that Patricia read for us earlier on.
But what I really want us to think about today – and not just today – I’m hoping this is something we’ll give some sustained attention in the months to come – is what hospitality looks like (maybe even what unreasonable hospitality looks like!) in this congregation. How do we collectively engage in hospitality as a spiritual practice?
When I was reading ‘Unreasonable Hospitality’ I kept wondering what we could learn from their example – transforming this middling restaurant – to the point where it won the title of ‘best restaurant in the world’. Now, I’m not saying I want us to win ‘best church in the world’ (nor that I think such an award ought to exist)! But I think we’re in a similar position – we’re already doing something worthwhile – we can be proud of what we have to offer here, I think, and of how we’ve already extended our hospitality to welcome people all over the world by going fully hybrid. Still, I think by collectively focusing on the details of the hospitality we offer, and crucially by getting everyone – I mean everyone – to take ownership of that task, we could take it to another level, really go from strength to strength as a community.
On any given Sunday morning, here at Essex Church, we have one designated greeter sitting just inside the front door, saying hello and giving out name labels as people arrive. And on Zoom we have a named co-host doing something similar. But hospitality can never be the work of just one person! It needs to be infused throughout the culture of this congregation. And to some degree, I think it already is, I think we’re a pretty welcoming bunch. I know a few of you are particularly skilled at looking out for newcomers, finding out about what brought them here, who they are, and what matters to them, making genuine connections. We also need to be careful not to leap on first-timers and overwhelm them! Some of us need more space than others (I might not have come back if anyone leapt on me)! But we do need to show curiosity towards visitors and convey the message: ‘we’re really glad you’re here; please stick around so we can get to know each other’. In the main, I think, it’s the connections we form that draw people to come back. It’s not just the cake! Though perhaps that’s what drives me to make all these fancy cakes to bring every week – it’s how I try to offer ‘unreasonable hospitality’ – my contribution to making people feel cared-for and even giving out a little bit of joy! In a church context, I reckon hospitality needs to go beyond everyday friendliness, to include an extra helping of generosity, sensitivity, and compassion. The goal, for all of us, should be to help make everyone feel more seen, included and valued.
In the end, to be hospitable, we have to be present. That’s both in the very basic sense of showing up on a regular basis, whether that’s in-person or online, and also in the sense of actively engaging with whoever we may meet here at church. Our doors are open every Sunday morning – both the physical doors to this building and the virtual doors of our Zoom room – and anyone is welcome to join us – to be part of co-creating this community, and holding the door open to welcome the next person. So in the weeks and months to come let’s all pay some attention to cultivating this culture of hospitality – whether you’ve been here a week, or a year, or ten years – there is something each and every one of us can contribute to this task. If you see this as your spiritual home then you are in a position to host and welcome others in. We’re going to have a workshop on hospitality on Sunday 1st November to think about the what this will look like in practical terms – so save the date and sign up with me for that – that is in-person but I’m trying to find a date for an online one too.
I’m going to close with an echo of those words from Christine Pohl which I shared at the top of the service. Perhaps we can take them to heart as a vision of what we are trying to co-create here in our hybrid church: ‘Communities in which hospitality is a vibrant practice tap into deep human longings to belong, find a place to share one’s gifts, and be valued. The practice of hospitality reflects a willingness on the part of a community of people to be open to others and to their insights, needs, and contributions. Hospitable communities recognize that they are incomplete without other folks but also that they have a “treasure” to share with them.’ (pause)
May we all play our part in making this an ever more hospitable community. Amen.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘The Church Where Love Lives’
Time for one last hymn now, another one on the hymn sheet, ‘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 Ramona for hosting and Aisha for co-hosting (if you’re online please do stay on afterwards for a chat with Aisha). Thanks to Holly and Jack for lovely music, and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Sonya, Patricia, and Roy for reading. Thanks to Patricia for greeting and David for making coffee. Please stay for tea and cake! We’ve got apple and sultana or ginger lemon squiggle cake today.
Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week our theme is ‘The Sacred’ – email me if you want to join and I’ll share the link.
On Tuesday our walking group is giving it another go – we’ve decided to go to Rye Meads RSPB reserve – that’s a 35 minute train trip out of Liverpool Street and I think six of us are going. Let me know if you want to join us so we can sort out the detailed arrangements. In response to requests we might have a go at alternating between east-ish and west-ish walks so expect us to go west in October. And if you think you might like to join us in future months do let me know.
We’re holding our labyrinth mini-retreat on Wednesday for the autumn equinox, with me and Sarah, that’s a daytime event which I know won’t work for everyone but it was tricky to schedule. The actual mini-retreat is from 1-3pm but we invite you to bring your own lunch and come for 12 if you fancy hanging out and having a relaxed chat before we get started on the labyrinth. And do bring a clean pair of socks as we’ll ask you to take your shoes off to keep the labyrinth clean!
Sonya is back with Nia Dance from on Fridays at 12.30pm. That’s holistic movement and dance. Get in touch with Sonya if you want to know more.
And in case you haven’t already heard, I’m afraid we’ve decided to cancel the congregational lunch that was due to happen at the end of the month, as it became apparent that too many of our regular helpers were going to be away. We do need more active helpers if we’re to keep up the programme of in-person events at the level to which we’ve previously been accustomed!
The Better World Book Club is reading ‘Lowborn’ by Kerry Hudson this month, that’s an online group so you can join us from anywhere on the evening of the 27th, we still have a few copies of this book to loan out if you’re interested – they’re at the back – let me know if you take one.
The autumn newsletter is out so please do take a copy of that if you haven’t already had one. You could even take a copy for a friend if you know someone who’d be interested in what we do here.
And we’ll be back next Sunday for our Harvest Festival service – please bring along your favourite fruit, veg, or other produce – whatever you think will look lovely on our central table. Bonus points for home-grown (I’ll bring as many tomatoes as I can!) but see what interesting veg you can find in your local markets or specialist corner shops!
Details of all our various activities are printed on the order of service, and also in the Friday email, so sign up for our mailing list if you haven’t already done so. 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 music now.
Benediction: based on words by Emily Richards
Our time together is at an end; our work has just begun:
The work of holding one another and this community in love.
The work of trusting that we are on the right path.
The work of believing that what connects us is stronger than what separates us.
The work of engaging in that which makes us whole.
The work of deeper understanding and commitment.
The work of letting go of that which does not serve us.
The work of radical inclusion. The work of collective liberation.
The work of this beloved community.
A beloved community of which we are all part.
A place where we are welcomed, respected, valued, cherished.
A place where we belong. Amen.
Closing Music: Promenade (Walking the Dog) - Gershwin (performed by Holly Redshaw and Jack Campbell)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
20th September 2026