I Wish I Knew How
- Jul 4
- 22 min read
Sunday Service, 5 July 2026
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Schumann, Von fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen Op. 15 (performed by George Ireland)
Opening Words: ‘Welcome to this Place of Possibility’ by Marianne Hachten Cotter (adapted)
Welcome to this place of possibility!
This is love's hearth, the home of hope,
a refuge for minds in search of truth
unfolding, ever beautiful, ever strange.
Here, compassion is our shelter,
freedom our protection from the storms of life,
the trials and troubles of the world beyond our doors.
In this abode, may we find comfort, courage,
challenge, and encouragement to stretch ourselves.
Here may our sight become vision to see the unseen,
to glimpse the good that is yet to be. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Marianne Hachten Cotter 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.
The title of this morning’s service is taken from a favourite hymn, 'I Wish I Knew How' (which of course we’ll be singing later), with its opening lines: 'I wish I knew how it would feel to be free; I wish I could break all these chains holding me.' Through stories, songs, and poetry, this morning we will reflect on the meaning of interior freedom, and how we might break our inner chains.
Chalice Lighting: ‘The Chalice is a Symbol’ by Debra Faulk (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)
A chalice lit in our midst is a symbol of our bold and progressive faith tradition.
A faith built on the foundation of freedom, reason and tolerance;
A faith sustained by acts of kindness and justice;
A faith that visions a world flourishing with equality for all her people;
A faith that demands the living out of truth and goodness;
A faith that requires thoughtfulness and mutual care;
A faith of wholeness, authenticity, and liberation.
Hymn 198 (purple): ‘We'll Build a Land’
Let us sing together now. Our first hymn is number 198 in our purple books: ‘We’ll Build a Land’. For those joining on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer. Sing up!
We'll build a land where we bind up the broken.
We'll build a land where the captives go free,
where the oil of gladness dissolves all mourning.
O, we'll build a promised land that can be.
Come build a land where sisters and brothers,
anointed by God, may then create peace:
where justice shall roll down like waters,
and peace like an ever flowing stream.
We'll build a land where we bring the good tidings
to all the afflicted and all those who mourn.
And we'll give them garlands instead of ashes.
O, we'll build a land where peace is born.
Come build a land where sisters and brothers,
anointed by God, may then create peace:
where justice shall roll down like waters,
and peace like an ever flowing stream.
We'll be a land building up ancient cities,
raising up devastations of old;
restoring ruins of generations.
O, we'll build a land of people so bold.
Come build a land where sisters and brothers,
anointed by God, may then create peace:
where justice shall roll down like waters,
and peace like an ever flowing stream.
Come, build a land where the mantles of praises
resound from spirits once faint and once weak;
where like oaks of righteousness stand her people.
O, come build the land, my people we seek.
Come build a land where sisters and brothers,
anointed by God, may then create peace:
where justice shall roll down like waters,
and peace like an ever flowing stream.
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 Simon John Barlow
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. The prayer is based on words by Simon John Barlow. 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)
Source of All that is Good and True and Beautiful,
day by day we are renewed by your blessings
as we seek your presence.
Help us to allow Your Spirit to flow freely through us,
with loving awareness of the present
and hope for all our futures.
Guide us, that we may renew ourselves daily:
opening to new beauties;
uncovering greater courage;
and seeking deeper truths.
Let our shrine be a compassionate heart and our temple a wakeful mind.
Grant us the wisdom to see beyond the limits we set in our lives
and to know that in God there is no boundary.
May we realise: the freedom to be ourselves,
the compassion to be true companions to our friends;
and the desire to live as the passionate hearts of God here on earth;
the embodiment of Love in this interconnected web of All-That-Is. (pause)
And let us take a few moments now to 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.
Hymn 167 (purple): ‘There Is a Place I Call My Own’
Let’s sing again now – our second hymn is number 167 – ‘There is a Place I Call My Own’ (also known as ‘Flying Free’).
There is a place I call my own,
where I can stand by the sea,
and look beyond the things I've known
and dream that I might be free.
Like the bird above the trees,
gliding gently on the breeze,
I wish that all my life I’d be
without a care and flying free.
But life is not a distant sky
without a cloud, without rain,
and I can never hope that I
can travel on without pain.
Time goes swiftly on its way;
all too soon we’ve lost today,
I cannot wait for skies of blue
or dream so long that life is through.
So life is a song that I must sing,
a gift of love I must share;
and when I see the joy it brings
my spirits soar through the air.
Like the bird up in the sky,
life has taught me how to fly.
For now I know what I can be
and now my heart is flying free.
Two Wisdom Tales: The Trapped Raccoon and the Captive Elephant
We are going to hear two short wisdom tales now, both of which I originally heard from much-loved Unitarian ministers, the first from Art Lester and the second from Bill Darlison. Before I hand over to Antony and Juliet I just want to note that these teaching stories often don’t work out too well for the poor animals involved (I can’t believe that for the second week in a row I have cause to say ‘I feel sorry for the elephant’…) so let’s remember that they are made-up stories, and no raccoons or elephants were really harmed in the making of these fables.
‘The Story of the Trapped Raccoon’ (adapted from a version by Art Lester) (read by Antony)
There was once a clever hunter who knew how to catch a raccoon. It’s very simple, really: all you have to do is let the racoon catch himself. So, this is a story about a racoon who found himself in the strongest trap ever invented.
The hunter took a nice, plump fish and put it in the hollow of a tree. A racoon came by and smelled the fish from a mile off. Now, a raccoon is very intelligent, but also very stubborn and stuck in its ways. The opening to the hollow was large enough for his hand—raccoons have hands, you know, just like people. He reached inside and took hold of the fish, but when he tried to remove it, he found that the crack wasn’t large enough to let his hand back out again with the fish in it. He was stuck. He stood in front of the tree, unable to move.
A crow was watching all this from a branch. He fluttered down and said to the raccoon, “I see that you are caught in the hunter’s trap.”
“Yes,” said the raccoon pitifully. “I cannot move, even though the hunter will soon come and catch me.”
“It is the spirit of animals like us to be free,” said the crow. “To run and fly unimpeded through the forest, to go where we will, like the wind.”
“That is true,” said the raccoon. “I long for my freedom now that it has been denied me.”
“Then why don’t you release the fish and run away?” asked the crow. “There is so little time.”
“Because it is also in my nature to love fish,” said the raccoon sadly. “My instinct will not let me let a plump, juicy fish get away. Try as I might, I cannot take my fingers off it.”
The crow pondered for a moment, and then said, “The hunter will make your insides into a pie and your outsides into a hat. He will come along any minute now, and you’ll wind up in the pot.”
“What shall I do?” wailed the raccoon.
“There is only one solution,” said the crow, looking at the racoon’s sharp teeth. And that is why, in some parts of the world, they say so-and-so is as stubborn as a three-legged raccoon.
‘The Story of the Captive Elephant’ (as told by Bill Darlison) (read by Juliet)
A little girl was at the zoo with her father when she spotted some elephants. ‘That’s strange,’ she said. ‘The little elephant has a big rope tied round its leg, but the big elephant’s leg is only tied with thin string. Why is that?’ Her father didn’t know the answer, but the zoo-keeper, overhearing the girl’s question, said: ‘When it’s still a baby, the elephant is tied by a very thick rope which is attached to a sturdy stake in the ground. The little elephant tries to pull itself free, but it is tethered too strongly. It keeps on trying, but it is never successful. After about a year it gives up trying, thinking that the rope will always be too strong for it. At that point, the keepers can tie the elephant’s leg to a thin piece of string tied to a broom handle, and the elephant, remembering its inability to escape in the past, never even tries to get away. It could pull itself free very easily, but it’s been tricked into thinking there’s no point even trying.’
Words for Meditation: ‘This’ by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Thanks Antony and Juliet. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness, I’m going to share a short poem and you’ll never guess who it’s by…. (it’s by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer who seems to have an appropriate poem for more-or-less any spiritual theme). The poem opens with the line ‘sit with the freedom in your heart’ so I’m going to suggest that we take a moment to settle ourselves and take a few breaths before we hear the rather meditative poem. 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.
Let’s take a moment or two to settle. Maybe scrunch your shoulders up and then let the tension go. Bring your attention to the centre of your chest as you take a few slow breaths – in through your nose and out through your mouth – and again, in through your nose and out through your mouth – again.
‘This’ by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Sit with the freedom in your heart.
Feel it expanding into your palms—
in this moment whole galaxies
seem to fit inside your fingertips. How?
When did you become this vast?
Was this spaciousness always here?
Could you have felt this way yesterday
if only you had gotten out of your own way?
Sit with the freedom in your heart—
more beautiful than any story—
feel it surge through you
until your body forgets any limits
and knows itself as infinite.
Freedom will do what freedom does—
invite you to touch the source of the universe,
replace, for this moment, your fear with awe.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Schumann, Träumerei from Kinderszenen Op. 15 (performed by George Ireland)
Reading: ‘Inner Freedom’ by Kübra Yücel (excerpt, adapted) (Roy to read)
What does it mean to be truly free?
Often, we think of freedom as the absence of restrictions, a physical space where we can act, express, and move around without limiting barriers. We name this as our freedom of opinion, of speaking and of personal choices. This view of freedom focuses heavily on external factors: our rights, choices, and independence.
However, history has shown us that many there exists a different type of liberation; one that is profound, substantial and not limited to time and space. One that can be present even in the face of severe external oppression. Viktor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor, emphasizes this idea in his powerful statement: “Everything can be taken from humans but one thing – the last of the human freedoms: to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”
This insight reveals a deep spiritual truth: while the lack of external freedom can hinder us from experiencing freedom, it is our inner freedom that defines our experience of being truly free.
Inner freedom is a state of being that is cultivated through inner healing, awareness and self-discovery. Experiencing inner freedom involves illuminating our unconscious patterns that guide our lives and questioning the narratives we have inherited our early upbringing and from society.
While inner freedom starts from within, it is intrinsically linked to the external world. The saying “as within, so without” suggests that the freedom we cultivate internally is reflected in the realities we create outside ourselves, and vice versa. For instance, a society that values external freedoms – such as human rights, safety, and fairness – provides fertile ground for the cultivation of inner freedom. Conversely, a lack of external freedom can stifle our ability to explore our inner worlds.
Ultimately, true freedom is a state of being; and when embodied, it ripples through the world. Freedom involves the courage to step into the unknown, to surrender our need for excessive control, and to trust in life’s unfolding. It is generated by accepting our inner contradictions: our fear and our bravery, our individuality and our connection we share with others. It lies in the gentle realization that we are both the co-creators and the experiencers of our reality.
Hymn 70 (purple): ‘I Wish I Knew How’
Time for another hymn now – it’s number 70 in your purple books – ‘I Wish I Knew How’.
I wish I knew how it would feel to be free.
I wish I could break all these chains holding me.
I wish I could say all the things I could say,
say 'em loud, say 'em clear for the whole world to hear.
Say 'em loud say 'em clear for the whole world to hear.
I wish I could share all the love in my heart,
remove all the bars that still keep us apart.
I wish you could know what it means to be me,
then you'd see and agree everyone should be free.
Then you'd see and agree everyone should be free.
I wish I could give all I'm longing to give.
I wish I could live like I'm longing to live.
I wish I could do all the things I can do,
though I'm way overdue I'd be starting anew.
Though I'm way overdue I'd be starting anew.
I wish I could be like a bird in the sky.
How sweet it would be if I found I could fly
I'd soar to the sun and look down at the sea,
then I'd sing 'cause I'd know how it feels to be free.
Then I'd sing 'cause I'd know how it feels to be free.
Mini-Reflection: ‘I Wish I Knew How’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
‘Freedom, Reason, and Tolerance’ – this is a phrase that has historically been an important statement of our core Unitarian values – perhaps we don’t use it quite so much these days. Since I first stumbled into the church 27 years ago I’ve noticed that we’ve softened our view on reason a bit, acknowledging that there are other sources of wisdom and insight that transcend the rational, and which may be found through emotion, intuition, and direct experience. We’re not just a religion of the head. And that traditional emphasis on ‘tolerance’ has been questioned a bit too – it can feel a bit grudging – it sounds like ‘putting up with’. We’ve moved towards the language of ‘celebrating’ and ‘affirming’ when it comes to our relationship with difference, be that religious and theological diversity, or other dimensions of culture and identity.
But freedom – it’s hardly surprising that freedom comes first in that slogan – it seems to me that freedom is so central to the Unitarian outlook – so no wonder it’s a theme that we return to time and time again in our services. There are many dimensions to explore. And today I want us to focus on what I’m going to call ‘interior freedom’.
Much of the time, I would say, we Unitarians tend to focus on exterior freedom. We’re rightly very concerned with the material conditions of oppression that millions (if not billions) of people are facing every day the world over – violence, discrimination, poverty – and the unjust and unfair systems that keep people trapped in suffering. When we talk about building a better world, as we so often do – or the Kingdom of God or the Beloved Community or whichever form of words most animates you – when we talk about this I am often thinking primarily about us engaging in a project of liberation. We are dreaming of a future when these oppressive systems are overthrown. A time when everybody is free to live their life as they see fit, express themselves, and flourish. A day when the only constraint on freedom is the principle that we don’t cause harm to others (that principle is of course not trivial to live out; but we’ll return to that another day). Our focus on exterior freedom is a noble one; it calls us to be attentive to the sufferings of our neighbours, and do what we can to help to dismantle the structures, systems, and attitudes – including within ourselves – that keep so many people un-free.
But what about ‘interior freedom’? I find it a slightly slippery concept to get a handle on. Yet it seems to come up again and again, in different guises, in all the major religious traditions, and also in various psychological and psychotherapeutic schools of thought. There’s this persistent idea that spiritual practice, or inner work, might ‘set us free’.
I’ll share a long-ish quote from Yogesh Sharda, of the Brahma Kumaris, his perspective on ‘interior freedom’. He writes: ‘In many parts of the world, people have freedom of movement, of speech, the freedom to preach and practise any religion. However, these freedoms can be taken away from you. The freedom that no one—except yourself —can deprive you of is the freedom to think and feel as you want, when you want. Generally, we believe that the behaviour of people, events, and [outer] circumstances are responsible for the way we feel. But one important principle in a life of spirituality is that my thoughts and emotional state are entirely my choice, and my responsibility. There are some spiritual principles involved in taking charge of my inner world—owning my peace and happiness, and thinking and feeling what I want, whenever I want. The two foundations for growing internally are inner strength, and our perspective, or the way we see life.… We usually try to control events and other people, believing that will make us secure and happy. But if we do that, we will necessarily become stressed. Between me and the world outside is my mind. All I need to do is to shift my desire for control from outside to inside, and have control over my mind.’
Words from Yogesh Sharda. Easier said than done, of course! I must admit, that when I first encountered teachings of this sort about ‘interior freedom’, I baulked at them somewhat. I felt suspicious-verging-on-hostile as I tried to translate this principle and apply it to challenging situations in my own life, and the life of the world. My first reaction to it was a kind of outrage! The implication seemed to be that anyone could do whatever dreadful things they liked, with negative consequences for me, or for the world, and they were in some sense ‘off the hook’, as any inner suffering that I felt in response to their actions was apparently entirely my own responsibility. That feels unjust, doesn’t it? It sounds very much like ‘your suffering is your own fault’. But is it as simple as that?
Despite my initially quite negative reaction I think I also realised quite early on that there was something worth grappling with in such spiritual teachings. We probably shouldn’t be fatalistic, but many external factors are often largely out of our control, and when we’re facing difficulties that we can’t directly do anything about it is wise to turn our attention to the one thing we do have some control over – our inner response. There are some echoes with the old Serenity Prayer – ‘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’. I think interior freedom speaks to ‘the things we cannot change’. How might we respond to life’s trials in a way that doesn’t compound our suffering?
It also reminds me of the old Buddhist teaching of the first dart and the second dart – when we’re pierced by the first dart of external circumstances it may indeed be painful – but we don’t have to add the second dart of suffering by excessively ruminating or making up an unhelpful inner narrative about it. If we cultivate this ‘interior freedom’ we might be more able to save ourselves a lot of unnecessary secondary suffering. This is something Rick Hanson, one of my favourite teachers, has spoken about a lot; he gives some examples of the ‘second darts’ we humans habitually throw at ourselves: ‘overreacting to little things, holding grudges, justifying yourself, drowning in guilt after you’ve learned the lesson, dwelling on things long past, losing perspective, worrying about stuff you can’t control, and mentally rehashing conversations.’ Hanson also gives a positive framing of what we could be aiming for, instead of this: ‘A sense of inner freedom is a hallmark of emotional healing, mental health, self-actualization, and the upper reaches of human potential… a common term for enlightenment is “liberation.”’
So my perspective on such teaching has shifted, but still, I do want to add a note of caution before we go any further. We need to tread carefully as I think there is a risk that some of these teachings on ‘interior freedom’ can be (mis)used for spiritual bypassing – that is, they can be used to avoid facing and tackling difficult external realities – even to suggest that bad things that are happening in the world aren’t real or imply that we should be able to transcend them – rather than engaging in the struggle for change.
Like I said, it’s a high priority in our Unitarian tradition to face up to uncomfortable realities as best we can, in order to change them – to protest and organise – and build a land where justice rolls down like waters and peace is an ever-flowing stream, just like we sang earlier. Liberation is very much material as well as psychological and spiritual.
That said… the two wisdom stories we heard earlier, of the raccoon and the elephant, present striking images of the ways in which we might collude with our own captivity. The raccoon is operating out of habit, and he knows full well what he needs to do to be free, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Onlookers will say ‘just drop the fish!’ but it’s not as easy as it might seem from outside. He is in the grip of habit. This sort of dynamic will be all too familiar to anyone who’s struggled with addiction or compulsive behaviours. Likewise, the poor elephant, who is only weakly tied with string, and could get up and walk away anytime, and yet is so identified with its own captivity, so demoralised, that it no longer even tries to break free. We too can lose heart, become resigned to our fate.
In the piece by Kübra Yücel, that Roy read, she quotes the famous words of Viktor Frankl, which are also on your order of service today. One of the insights he brought back with him as a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps was this – even when imprisoned, people can maintain inner freedom – and ‘the last of the human freedoms is to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.’ And as Frankl wrote elsewhere, ‘Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space lies our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.’
This is a kind of existential freedom, as Dan Cumberland, of ‘The Meaning Movement’, has written: ‘Regardless of our external circumstances, we are continually confronted with choices that define our essence and shape our identity. True freedom lives in our internal responses and the values we uphold amid life’s challenges. This connects to existentialism as a path to freedom, emphasizing that our choices define our essence, regardless of external limitations. By embracing our ability to respond… we can transform suffering into meaning and despair into hope. Ultimately, recognizing that we are architects of our own fate empowers us, allowing us to navigate even the [bleakest] of circumstances with dignity and purpose.’ Words from Dan Cumberland.
This feels like a topic we can’t possibly exhaust in a single service. So perhaps I’ll just close with an echo of the invitation that Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer offered for our meditation today. Perhaps it is one we can return to, often, to remind us to cultivate or reconnect with our interior freedom. She wrote: ‘Sit with the freedom in your heart. Feel it expanding… When did you become this vast? Was this spaciousness always here? Could you have felt this way yesterday if only you had got out of your own way?’ Amen.
Hymn 165 (purple): ‘The Spirit Lives to Set Us Free’
Time for one last hymn now, number 165, ‘The Spirit Lives to Set Us Free’ (‘Walk in the Light’).
The Spirit lives to set us free,
walk, walk in the light.
It binds us all in unity,
walk, walk in the light.
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light of love.
The light that shines is in us all,
walk, walk in the light.
We each must follow our own call,
walk, walk in the light.
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light of love.
Peace begins inside your heart,
walk, walk in the light.
We've got to live it from the start,
walk, walk in the light.
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light of love.
Seek the truth in what you see,
walk, walk in the light.
Then hold it firmly as can be,
walk, walk in the light.
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light of love.
The Spirit lives in you and me,
walk, walk in the light.
Its light will shine for all to see,
walk, walk in the light
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light,
Walk in the light of love.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to George for lovely music. Thanks to Antony, Juliet and Roy for reading. Thanks to Azita for greeting and Liz for making coffee. If you’re online stay for a chat with Charlotte if you can. If you’re in-person please do stay for tea and cake (it’s Apple and Pear Cake or Victoria Sponge today).
This afternoon Vita is offering Indian Head Massage – chat with her about that.
Tonight and Friday we’ve got our online ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week it’s on the theme of ‘Adventure’ – sign up with me.
This month’s Better World Book Club is on ‘Calling In’ by Loretta J. Ross – really fascinating and challenging book about how we make social change – and how that might require us to work with people we’d find it difficult to engage with – hardly anyone has told me that they’re coming yet despite three of the books already having been taken so please do sign up with me.
Next Sunday, Sarah Tinker will be here, with a service titled ‘Being Brave’.
And looking further ahead, please save the date for our congregational lunch, on 26th July. Liz Tuckwell will be coordinating so please let her know what food or drink you’ll be bringing to share. Also if you aren’t already volunteering to help with greeting or coffee and you might be persuadable then have a word with Liz as she coordinates the rota and we’d be glad of help.
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, and the summer newsletter is out (if you know anyone who might be interested in what we do then take a copy to give them for free). 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 Tim Haley
We walk this earth but a brief moment in time.
Amid our suffering and pain, however great or small,
let us continue to learn how to celebrate life in all its variety.
Let us continue to grow in our capacity to love ourselves and each other.
And let us continue to move toward the goal of a better world,
a global community of peace, justice, joy and liberation for all.
Go this day in a renewed spirit of courage and hope
and with the wisdom to greet the week to come. Amen.
Closing Music: Schumann, Kind im Einschlummern and Der Dichter spricht from Kinderszenen Op. 15 (performed by George Ireland)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
5th July 2026