Kinds of Minds

Sunday Service, 23 March 2025

Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

Musical Prelude: Ukrainian Folk Melody - arr. Paul Harris (performed by Benjie del Rosario and George Ireland)  

Opening Words: ‘We Come Together Without Creed’ by Maureen Killoran (adapted)

In this free church, we come together without creed,

focusing instead on our shared values

of justice, equity and compassion,

of mutual acceptance of our diverse ways of being,

as we seek to connect ourselves more fully

with the unfolding truths of life and of our world.

We come together in the firm conviction that

community is possible and that peace is more than a dream.

We commit together to affirm in our deeds as well as our words,

the inherent worth and dignity of each and every human being.

We come together in awareness of our interdependence with all humanity,

and with the wider web of existence, of which we are a part.

We come together to pool our resources, and strengthen our resolve,

to build beloved community and truly put our faith into action.

And as we gather, we sense our connectedness

with all who have come together this morning,

all who have ever walked through our doors,

or joined our gathered community via the internet,

and all those who may yet discover this place as their spiritual home.

So whoever you are, however you are, wherever you are,

know that you are welcome here, just as you are.

Let us bring our whole selves to this hour of worship. (pause)

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

These words from Maureen Killoran welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining us via Zoom, and anyone watching or listening 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.

This morning’s service is titled ‘Kinds of Minds’ – the theme was chosen in honour of ‘Neurodiversity Celebration Week’ which concludes today – celebration of diversity in all its forms is a core value of our Unitarian community so this week we’re going to consider the diversity of human minds and how our varied neurological architecture shapes our gifts, our needs, and our way of being in the world.

When we talk about neurodiversity, we are often thinking about autism and ADHD, but potentially we could be talking about many more degrees of human variation than that. It is highly likely that everybody here has someone who is neurodivergent among their family or friends (or indeed that you are neurodivergent yourself) so this is something that we all need to consider more deeply.

And I’m pleased to have help this morning from congregation member Emma Taylor, who is a familiar face to regulars at our Friday night Heart and Soul gathering, who’ll be sharing her thoughts later on. And I’ll be sharing a little of my own story too, my journey to getting an autism diagnosis, just last year.

Chalice Lighting: ‘Cherishing Our Diversity’ by Cindy Fesgen (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) 

We are all gifted in differing ways

With various strengths and talents.

We are all holy, part of the universe

And the interdependent web.

We light this chalice, cherishing our diversity

And holding each other in sacredness.

Hymn 194 (purple): ‘We Light the Flame’

Our first hymn this morning is number 194 in your purple books, ‘We Light the Flame’. The words are a reminder of the principles we gather around. For those joining via zoom the words will be up on screen (as they will for all hymns). Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer; let’s sing up as best we can.

We light the flame that kindles our devotions.

We lift our hearts in blessed community.

The mind has thoughts, the heart its true emotions,

we celebrate in worship, full and free.

Our faith transcends the boundaries of oceans.

All shall be granted worth and dignity.

So many ways to witness to the wonder.

So many dreams by day for us to dare.

Yet, reaching out, each way is made the grander,

and love made bold for dreamers everywhere.

Diversity will never cast asunder

our common weal, our bonds of mutual care.

Infinite Spirit, dwell with us, we pray thee,

that we may share in life abundantly.

Forgive our sins, feed us with good bread daily,

with strength resist temptation steadfastly.

O God of life, sustain us now, and may we

with mindful hearts, be thankful constantly.

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 briefly who or what you light your candle for. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak this time as I really want people to be able to hear you and I don’t want to keep nagging you about getting close to the handheld mic. And if you can’t get to the microphone give me a wave and I’ll bring a handheld mic over to you. Thank 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 Richard Lovis  

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

In coming here to worship we each bring with us our own deepest needs,

and the deepest needs of those we love and care about the most.

Some of us bring the need to express thanks,

because we are aware that there is more to our

cause for thankfulness than anyone can take credit for.

Some of us bring the need to be contrite and to feel forgiven

because we realise that in spite of all our efforts to make amends

there are still wounds left unhealed, and things that were

said and done, which cannot be unsaid or undone.

Some of us bring the need for comfort and for consolation

Because we feel broken-hearted, churned up, or adrift;

there is a keen distress or loss in our lives or in the wider world

which is beyond the reach of gentle words and gestures of kindly souls.

Some of us bring the need for guidance and direction

because the tangle of life seems too complex

for reason and advice alone to unravel. (pause)

So in a few quiet moments let us take some time to pray inwardly the prayers of our own hearts;

calling to mind all those souls we know to be suffering this day, whether close to home, or on the other side of the world. The world’s troubles can feel overwhelming; for now, let us focus on the causes which call most strongly to our heart, and hold these sacred beings in the light of love. (pause)

Let us also pray for ourselves; we too are sacred beings who face our own struggles and muddle

through life’s ups and downs. So let us take a few moments to reflect on our own lives, and ask for what we most need this day – maybe comfort, guidance, insight, or forgiveness – in order to flourish. Let us offer up both our sufferings and our tender hopes to the One That Holds All. (pause)

And let us take just a little longer to remember the good things in life and give thanks for them.

Those moments in the past week where we’ve encountered generosity, kindness, or pleasure.

When others have reached out to us, helped us to get by, or the world’s beauty has overflowed.

Let us cultivate a spirit of gratitude as we recall all those moments that lifted our spirits. (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 147 (purple): ‘Spirit of Earth, Root, Stone and Tree’

Let’s sing again now – our second hymn is number 147 in our purple hymn books – a suitable hymn for the spring season I think (even it’s a bit rainy today): ‘Spirit of Earth, Room, Stone and Tree’.

Spirit of earth, root, stone and tree,

water of life, flowing in me,

keeping me stable, nourishing me,

O fill me with living energy!

Spirit of nature, healing and free,

spirit of love, expanding in me,

spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,

inspire me with living energy!

Spirit of love, softly draw near,

open my heart, lessen my fear,

sing of compassion, help me to hear,

O fill me with loving energy!

Spirit of nature, healing and free,

spirit of love, expanding in me,

spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,

inspire me with living energy!

Spirit of life, you are my song,

sing in my soul, all my life long,

gladden and guide me, keep me from wrong,

O fill me with sacred energy!

Spirit of nature, healing and free,

spirit of love, expanding in me,

spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,

inspire me with living energy!

Mini-Reflection: ‘Neurodivergence and Me’ by Dr. Emma Taylor

My name is Emma, I’ve been coming to Heart and Soul online, and sometimes to Sunday services, for a couple of years now. I’m a clinical psychologist, and for over twenty years a large part of my work has been with neurodivergent people. And my early training about neurodivergence actively got in the way of me recognising it in myself until fairly recently – I’m now diagnosed with both autism and ADHD.

The idea of neurodivergence starts from the principle that all human brains and nervous systems and bodies are different from each other, but we can usefully group together people with similar characteristics. The majority of people’s brains have a lot in common, in terms of how they sense the world, how they process information, how they pay attention and shift focus, how they extract meaning from spoken and written language, and so on – and anyone who belongs to this majority group, we can describe as neurotypical. Then there are lots of specific ways in which some people’s brains can operate differently, and we can collectively describe all of these different ways of being in the world as “neurodivergence”. There are specific labels within that, like dyslexia, ADHD, autism, dyspraxia, and so on – and some people would broaden that out to include things like acquired brain injuries, or trauma, or dementia.

It’s hard to give exact numbers for how many people are neurodivergent, because our understanding of and ability to recognise different neurodivergences has changed so drastically over the last few decades. I think some people have the impression that the diagnostic criteria have been relaxed, maybe to the extent that they’ve become meaningless – that neurodivergence used to be an exclusive club and now they let just about anybody in. But there’s no evidence that this is the case. Rather, our ability to recognise neurodivergence in all sorts of people has meant expanding the recognition of autism and ADHD and other neurodivergences among people who weren’t being properly understood in the past, particularly women and girls, and people of colour.

We also know now that neurodivergences tend to co-occur. For example, there’s about a 50% chance of someone with ADHD also meeting criteria for autism, and vice versa, but until 2013 one person couldn’t be given both diagnoses. Someone with ADHD or autism is also far more likely to be dyspraxic, or dyslexic, or to have other specific neurodivergences like synaesthesia. And we’re increasingly learning neurodivergent people are more likely to have particular chronic health issues, like hypermobility, digestive disorders, chronic fatigue, and circulatory problems.

People talk about autism in particular as existing on a spectrum, but I think that translates in a lot of people’s minds into the idea that “we’re all a little bit autistic” but maybe you’re three out of ten and I’m eight out of ten. The reality is that all forms of neurodivergence are a collage of different traits, each one of which has its own sliding scale. Rather than a single zero to ten scale, it’s more like an artist’s palette, where many colours are present in different amounts and at different intensities. If you prefer a more technical metaphor, I often picture a sound engineer’s mixing desk, with sliders all set at different levels, so that any one person has a range of traits at different levels. Neurotypical people tend to be, unsurprisingly, typical – they tend to be somewhere around the middle of the scale on everything, and neurodivergent people are mostly at the extreme ends of these scales – not just in the diagnostic criteria, but in all the ways that they experience and interact with the world. So among neurodivergent people, you’re more likely to find both people who absolutely cannot recognise faces, and also “super-recognisers” who can remember every face they’ve ever seen, for example. Which means that generally, any two neurodivergent people are more different from each other than any two neurotypical people. Which is what’s so frustrating about the common experience of being told, for example, “you can’t be autistic, my nephew’s autistic and you’re not like him”. It’s like being told that something written by Mozart can’t be music, because it isn’t by Bach, and Bach wrote music. 

Neurodivergent people generally find it harder to feel comfortable and to function well in a world that isn’t a good fit for our ways of doing things and for our brains and bodies – that misunderstands our intentions, makes inaccurate assumptions about us, and perceives us as weird or awkward or difficult, however hard we’re trying. And at the same time, what my training about neurodivergence failed to tell me about was the joy that can be a central part of it – the intensity of emotional experience and connection with others, the sensory delights, the fascination of special interests.

I wouldn’t give it up even if I could – I don’t know any other way to be in the world.

Words for Meditation: ‘You Are Enough’ by Shermina Kumari

Thanks so much Emma. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share a poem from this little book, ‘Kaleidoscopic Minds’, an anthology of poetry by neurodivergent women. The poem I’m going to share is by Shermina Kumari, who works as a paediatrician when she’s not writing poetry, she is writing from the perspective of someone with an ADHD diagnosis but I think the message is one that most of us need to hear, whether we are neurodivergent or neurotypical: her poem is titled ‘You Are Enough’.  The words will take us into a few minutes of shared silence which will end with the sound of a bell. And then we’ll hear some more music for meditation from Benjie, Shari, and George. 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.

‘You Are Enough’ by Shermina Kumari

You are enough

When there’s beds to be made

And the laundry to do

And the bills to be paid

You are enough

When there’s deadlines to meet

And a small person begs

To play at your feet

You are enough

When you’re stuck in a rut

And you just can’t remove

That fear in your gut

You are enough

When the world seems to cope

And all you can do is

To keep things afloat

You are enough

Leave the guilt, drop the shame

Be kind to yourself

There is no one to blame

You are enough

You are all you can be

More than enough

I just wish you could see

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

Interlude: Andante poco Adagio (2 Duos) - Kaspar Kummer (performed by Benjie del Rosario and Shari McDaid)

Reading: ‘Intricate Beauty’ by Quinn Gormley (Antony to read)

This piece by Unitarian Universalist Quinn Gormley reflects on her experience of ADHD. She writes:

When my hospital chaplaincy cohort completed our final reviews, we had to give (and receive) feedback from our peers—not just our supervisor. One of my peers clearly struggled to speak to me honestly, fearful of hurting my feelings.

"Quinn," he said, "you know a lot. Like, so much. And I love talking to you. But I think you might have an easier time relating to people if you dialled back the information. It's a lot to take in sometimes."

I deflated. Not because this was shocking to hear, but because it was terribly familiar. I've received similar feedback my whole life, and I've worked hard to rein it in.

In part, the struggle comes from a lack of understanding. If I were lost in grief, the first thing I'd want to know is the words for it. And the theory. And the pathway. How else do you get unlost without a map? Information is a coping mechanism. It gives me hope.

In my experience, people who aren't neurodiverse tend to frame neurodiversity as symptoms of inconvenience to people around them. My ADHD is being over-excited, distractible, fidgeting, being too much.

This is not what it feels like on the inside. For me, my ADHD means beauty. This world around us is so unbelievably beautiful that it simply demands my attention. ADHD is only disabling—at a psychological level—because the world is too big to admire fully: everything is interesting, Sadly, I can’t pay attention to it all.

One way I cope is to info-dump: I love to share information, and I love to hear other people share it, too. My other coping mechanism is hyper-fixation. I can fall down a hole of fascination with the intricate beauty of something so specific. It’s so distracting, and so painful, to keep to myself. “God made it this way,” I think, “and it’s incredible! I have to show you so you can love it too! Just look: this world is beautiful."

Quinn concludes with some words of prayer: Spirit of wondrous creation, I thank you today for the attention you give to each corner of creation: each iota of beauty, each afterthought of awe. I am blessed to live in a world so beyond my comprehension. May I never cease to be amazed by each detail.

Reflection: ‘Kinds of Minds’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

As I said at the top of the service, this past week has been ‘Neurodiversity Celebration Week’, and so this morning we’re exploring the premise that is simply stated by the autistic author Temple Grandin in words that are on the front of your order of service: ‘The world needs all kinds of minds.’

Part of the impetus behind tackling this theme today was a conversation I had with a friend recently – and I should probably say upfront that this is going to be perhaps a more personal reflection than usual – I am hoping it will be useful for me to share a little of my own first-hand experience on this occasion. So I was speaking to my friend – a new friend, someone I haven’t known very long – and I mentioned in passing that I am autistic. And he replied ‘you don’t seem autistic, if you don’t mind me saying’.

Now, this is a completely understandable response, especially when you consider that he has only known me for about five minutes in the grand scheme of things, and I knew myself for at least 45 years before I even had the first inkling that I might be neurodivergent in some identifiable way.  When my mate said ‘you don’t seem autistic’, it was said completely straight, no sides, no unkindness or judgement either way. He’s a lovely man and wasn’t being funny – he was just surprised, I think – so I found myself trying to explain, off the cuff, what it is like (for me) to be autistic – how it shapes my experience of the world, how it creates some challenges, how I have found workarounds for some of those challenges and not for others, and how it absolutely comes with brilliant gifts and strengths too. Possibly I got a bit defensive about it. As you’re probably aware, there has been a bit of a backlash lately to the increased diagnosis rates of autism and ADHD, a lot of scepticism, and I instinctively found myself trying to justify my diagnosis. I came away from that conversation thinking ‘I didn’t do a very good job of conveying what it’s like to be me’. 

I should acknowledge early on that this gulf of understanding ‘what it’s like to be me’ is not just an issue between neurodivergent and neurotypical people, of course. I couldn’t help thinking back to my old philosophy lectures (this may seem a bit of a leap!) and the famous essay by Thomas Nagel titled ‘What is it Like to be a Bat?’ (he means a bat in the sense of the little nocturnal flying mammal). In case you’re not familiar with the article it uses this thought experiment of trying to imagine what it is like to be a bat to explore ideas about consciousness and the mind-body problem. I’m not going to try and summarise the argument of that essay here (and it’s not that pertinent but it’s a fascinating read if you like that sort of thing!). However, it inspired me to think about some parallels that are relevant to our subject today, I reckon. If you try and imagine what it’s like to be a bat, one thing you’ve got to take into account is that, though they are mammals and as such they have a fair few things in common with us humans, the bat’s primary method of perceiving the world through sonar and echolocation is so different from anything that most of us humans have direct experience of (though I have heard stories of humans who’ve learned to echolocate through clicks!) But generally the neurological equipment of bats is so unlike ours that we can’t truly know what it’s like to be one. We can try to imagine – empathise with the bat – but our imagination will only take us so far. There’s something about the subjective nature of their experience that is ultimately impossible to grasp.

If we bring our attention back to humans now, on the whole we haven’t got such drastic and obvious differences between ourselves as there are between humans and bats (that seems a funny thing to say but stick with me if you can!) but still there is great diversity and variation in how we humans are wired up neurologically. You might think of it as us each having different operating systems – I’m not sure how far we can stretch this metaphor! – but think of Windows computers versus Apple – or Android versus iPhones. In broad terms they do much the same thing but there are differences beneath the surface which bring their own advantages, disadvantages, and quirks, shall we say – there are often things you can do more easily on one than on the other – they’re all configured slightly differently. And, broadly speaking, much the same goes for brains, it seems. But it is really hard to convey much about the workings of your own operating system to anybody else! In autistic circles a lot has been written about the ‘double empathy problem’; there’s long been this widespread belief that autistic people have an impaired understanding of the thoughts and feelings of others, but these days it’s starting to be acknowledged that any gap in understanding is mutual, it goes both ways. When people with very different experiences of the world interact with one another, they will struggle to empathise with each other, and that is just as much the case for neurotypical people, who often don’t seem able to see that the neurodivergent way of being is just different, not wrong.

It brings us back to this notion of subjectivity, and the ultimate unknowability of what it’s like to be anybody other than ourselves (and the difficulty of grasping the built-in quirks, possibilities, gifts, limitations or constraints of any mind that is not our own). Rather than asking ‘what is it like to be a bat?’ in everyday life, we’re trying to live alongside, and understand, other humans, so we’re implicitly dealing with questions of ‘what is it like to be Jane?’ (or Emma, or Antony, or anyone else we’re in relationship with). There is this invisible inner life, which we might attempt to convey to each other through language, but language is limited, and our own self-understanding may well be limited as well. We might easily go through life with no awareness that our neurological operating system is significantly different to anyone else’s – just because we’ve got nothing to compare it to!

And this is probably a good moment to remind ourselves that there are so many different modes of variation – so many ‘kinds of minds’ – though we might primarily be focusing on autism and ADHD as the ones that are increasingly making news headlines we could also be thinking about things like dyslexia, dyspraxia, OCD, PTSD even (we’re increasingly thinking about trauma these days). Some definitions of neurodiversity are more inclusive and the boundaries of the concept are a bit fuzzy.

Returning to my own story – like I said, I didn’t realise I was autistic until very recently – it took me decades to even have an inkling, then I had to contend with long NHS waiting lists to be assessed, and I only got my formal diagnosis of level 1 autism (formerly known as Asperger’s) last September. For most of my life I’ve been aware of my various peculiarities and difficulties but never previously saw them through that particular lens. It’s not something that my parents would have had any awareness of back in the 1970s and as you may know a lot of women have gone undiagnosed in part because of differences of how autism tends to present in boys and girls. The family story was ‘Jane’s a bit funny’ or ‘Jane’s a bit shy’ – ‘Jane is very fussy about her food’ or ‘Jane doesn’t like parties’ – sometimes put more negatively as ‘Jane is antisocial (even rude)’ or ‘Jane is awkward and intense and won’t just get along with others.’ People who’ve known me since I first came to this church in my mid-twenties will tell you that I hardly spoke a word to anyone back then. I sat at the back and lurked (and even to come into this unfamiliar space in the first place was a huge deal for me back then, though it got easier over time, as the familiarity, repetition, and routine help soothe me enormously). Over the years, I realise, I’ve spent a lot of time on my own (I still do) because I get overwhelmed easily by so many everyday situations and experiences that other people seem to find neutral or enjoyable. Even when part of me wants to join in, I am always checking for an escape route or a pass option, and in situations where I can’t see a way to bail out in an emergency, I often won’t risk participating in the first place, for fear of having a meltdown and making an exhibition of myself (especially in situations where I’m required to be the responsible adult in the room and I can’t just run away!)

Another dimension that I’ve become aware of over the years is that – from the outside – I think it’s been baffling to friends, colleagues, and tutors that there are things that I seem to be capable of doing sometimes, in certain circumstances – that I can sometimes do really well, and even enjoy – but at other times I become completely incapable, freeze up, grind to a halt, simply shut down and refuse. Often, when I’ve got stuck on a task (especially a writing task) and a deadline approaches, people will say ‘just do a half-arsed job of it to get it done’, but that option somehow isn’t available to me; it’s like I need to complete some inner process and exhaustively work through all the connections in my mind before I can find any words at all to put down on the page. It’s become apparent to me that sometimes it takes me a lot more time and energy to do a thing, including time around the thing to build myself up to it and recover afterwards, than others expect. I’ve often worried that that this makes me come across as lazy or ill-disciplined or wilfully awkward (and maybe I overcompensate). I suppose the main take-home from this bit of my experience is that we just can’t know how difficult (or easy) anyone else is finding things that we find easy (or difficult)! Or at least we can’t tell by looking. But we can listen to what people tell us about their experience. And we can try to give people the support and accommodations that they need in order to flourish.

Not every neurodivergent person has a formal diagnosis (nor wants one) – but many people (including me) have found it helpful to get an official confirmation of what they already kind-of knew about themselves. Diagnosis has helped my self-understanding – it has helped me to feel better about both my autistic struggles and my autistic gifts – it has put me in touch with a wider community of neurodivergent people who have similar experiences and that’s been very validating and supportive. It’s also helped me to get clearer on what support I might need in order to manage everyday tasks a bit better, and it’s empowered me to rearrange my life and work accordingly, and ask for some of the accommodations that would make a real difference. And often the accommodations are really small changes (to do with transport, or food, or allowing for time-out) which might seem slightly odd to others, but are hardly any trouble to put into place, and they remove significant sources of stress.

For years I wanted to be a minister but couldn’t see how I could possibly cope with the expectations placed on a minister’s life. There seemed be just one model of ministry, one way of doing things, and you could either do it that way – conform to the norm – or not do it at all. I felt so torn. I was sure that I was called to ministry and had something useful to offer but I feared that trying to conform to the traditional way of doing things would break me. Thankfully here at Essex Church I have been very lucky to have such an understanding committee, who have been flexible and supportive, and made accommodations which enable me to flourish. Without them I just wouldn’t be able to do ministry.

And I’m really aware of all those people who are not so lucky – people who have got incredible gifts to offer to the world, but who are prevented from doing so – largely dis-abled by arbitrary and unnecessary assumptions, norms, and conventions about how things should be done – or by the reluctance to make the often quite simple accommodations which would en-able them to flourish.  This is, of course, a justice issue. We can collectively choose to give people the support they need. And unfortunately, it’s a very live issue right now, in light of the appalling culture wars being stoked around autism and ADHD, and our government’s proposed cuts to benefits for disabled people.

There’s just too much to say about this topic! But perhaps the most important thing to take away is, as ever, an affirmation of our shared humanity, and the inherent worth and dignity of every person. Each one of us carries the divine light within. So let’s do what we can to embrace diversity in all its forms, encourage flourishing, and enable everybody’s light to shine. In that spirit I’m going to close with an adapted prayer-poem by Erina Kim-Eubanks, titled ‘For a House We Can All Live In’.

God of creativity – of diversity, multiplicity, and accessibility,

You say in your house are many rooms.

You build a space where all can dwell

and live exactly as who we are – without shame.

So forgive us for the ways that we have shut out and shut in –

for making barriers to your presence,

creating hierarchies of bodies and minds,

and building environments that are disabling.

Help us co-create with you a house that welcomes the fullness of our selves –

spaces that are accessible and psychologically safe –

welcoming of neurodiversity, acknowledging the wholeness of who we are,

our complete need for each other, and every gift we bring.

May your way – in which every kind of mind, body, and spirit

are honoured as valuable and good –

be made manifest in our world,

so that all your children have room to flourish.

May it be so for the greater good of all. Amen.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘Who is My Neighbour?’  

Let’s sing again. Our final hymn is on your hymn sheet, one of our recent favourites I think, and a reminder of the need to treat everyone with dignity and respect: ‘Who is My Neighbour?’.

Who is my neighbour? Every soul who lives upon the earth.

I have been called to treat each one with dignity and worth,

Working for justice, seeking peace and cultivating care,

Offering hope to those whose lives are laden with despair.

When I can ease another’s pain, I know I’ll do my part.

When I can bring another joy, I’ll open up my heart.

When I have more than someone else, I’ll share the things I can.

When I am tempted to be cruel, I’ll strive to understand.

Who is my neighbour? Earth itself and all the beings there:

Flora and fauna, fish and fowl, the trees that graze the air.

River and prairie, sea and sky I honour and respect.

These are my neighbours. These I vow to cherish and protect.

Oh, may we build a world where all have everything they need.

May we be free from hate and fear, from violence and from greed.

May our lives be tributes to compassion, love, and trust

Till we are kin to all the world and all are kin to us.

Announcements:

Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Emma for her reflection and Antony for reading. Thanks to Benjie, Shari, and George for lovely music today. Thanks to John for greeting and Pat for doing the coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – please do stay for a cuppa and cake – we’ve got Victoria Sponge this week.  

Tonight we’ve got the Better World Book Club is on ‘Every Kind of People’ by Kathryn Faulke. If you’re expecting to come to that and haven’t yet got the link please do let me know. Next month we’re reading ‘The Life Inside’ by Andy West and I have a few copies to loan out if you’d like one.

Community singing is back this Wednesday, all being well, always great fun but we sometimes have last-minute changes of plan due to the busy life of our singing leader so if you’re interested in coming to that make sure you’re on my singing mailing list for last-minute updates.

On Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week we’re considering the value of ‘Telling Stories’ – email me for the link if you want to join us for that. 

Looking further ahead – we’ve got our Easter service and congregational lunch on 20th April – have a word with Liz to let her know what food or drink you can contribute to the bring-and-share. And even further ahead we have our next tea dance on Sunday 4th May (which is also going to be part of my 50th birthday celebrations) so it’d be great to have a good turn out for that. Save the date!

We’re currently doing our membership drive for 2025 – if you’re already a member you will have received your renewal email this week – if you didn’t get that please check your spam folder and if you still can’t find it let me know and I’ll send it again. I know it’s tedious for you to fill it in every year but please do it so that we know we have your up-to-date details and preferences on record.  If you’re not yet a member and you would like to be please do get in touch – it’s not about money – it’s about you pledging your support and affirming your sense of belonging to this community.

Next Sunday we’ll be back here at 11am for a service titled ‘Anger is an Energy’ with Alex Brianson.   

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 why not take home a copy of our new fancy newsletter?

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 Charles A. Howe

And so our gathering ends; may we go forth 

thankful for the life that sustains and renews us,

receptive to the grace that surrounds and surprises us,

and attentive to the gifts and possibilities that surround us along the way. Amen.

Closing Music: Allegretto con moto (2 Duos) - Kaspar Kummer (performed by Benjie del Rosario and Shari McDaid)

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

23rd March 2025