Marking the Days

Sunday Service, 1 February 2026

Led by Rev. Sarah Tinker

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpBhpSIObIg

Musical Prelude: Mendelssohn, Lied Ohne Worte Op. 53 No. 4 (performed by George Ireland)  

Opening Words and Chalice Lighting: ‘Words for Candlemas’ by Tess Ward (adapted)

‘Substance of our faith, lit in recognition

Reveal yourself to us this day.

Stop our feet in their daily tracks

that we might not miss today in some vague hope of tomorrow.

Unfold our prayers to wisdom

that we might discern love’s purpose in the events of this day.

Open our eyes to see your presence in another human life.

Deepen our mystical eye that we might know those revelatory moments.

Unclasp our hands from their holding on

and teach us to let go into your peace.

Substance of our faith, reveal yourself to us

and teach us to let go into your peace, as we set forth this day’

Well good morning, everybody and welcome to this Sunday morning gathering of Kensington Unitarians. Welcome to those of you here at Essex Church in Notting Hill. Welcome too to all of you joining us online – it’s a pleasure to see you there on our screen. And a special welcome to anyone listening to this service as a podcast, sometime in the future, and to those of you watching the video recording. This service is all about marking the days of our lives so I hope your days, in the future, are treating you kindly and that even the toughest of days can hold something that is precious to each and every one of us.

If we’ve not met before, I’m Sarah Tinker, a Unitarian minister, and I’m happy to be with you this early spring day. Our opening words were written by Tess Ward, an Anglican priest and retreat leader, who has written extensively about the Celtic wheel of the year and the interweaving of Celtic, earth based prayers and traditions with Christian practices. Today marks the ancient Christian festival of Candlemas when candles are brought into the church to be blessed. Candlemas remembers the presentation of Jesus in the Temple in Jerusalem as well as the purification of his mother Mary, in accordance with Jewish law. And Candlemas, with its connection with light, joins with the pre-Christian festival of Imbolc, which we will hear more about later, and which is also marked today, the 1st February.

So let’s take a moment to settle ourselves in this day and this time, as I light our chalice flame to connect us not only with our Unitarian and Unitarian Universalist communities the world over, but also with all humanity – for whom light has been so very important – the light that the sun provides, the light of candle flame and electric bulbs, and the light of freedom, truth and justice – that they may be strengthened the world over.

Hymn 111 (purple): ‘O Brother Sun, Sister Moon’

And our first hymn today, the words of which will appear on your screens or can be found as number 111 in our purple hymn book, this hymn has many connections through time and space. With words attributed to the 13th century St Francis of Assisi and a traditional Scottish tune often sung with lyrics from a poem by Scottish 18th century poet Robbie Burns– ye banks and braes of Bonnie Doon. Scots celebrated Burns Night last Sunday with their traditional recitations, songs and a feast of haggis, neeps and tatties. As today is the full moon up in the skies above us, let’s sing this in thanks to both sun and moon for the light they bring to us humans.

O Brother Sun, you bring us light,

all shining ‘round in fiery might.

O Sister Moon, you heal and bless,

your beauty shines in tenderness.

O Brother Wind, you sweep the hills,

your mighty breath both freshens and fills.

O Sister Water, you cleanse and flow

through rivers and streams, in ice and snow.

O Brother Fire, you warm our night

with all your dancing coloured light.

O Sister Earth, you feed all things,

all birds, all creatures, all scales and wings.

O Sister Death, you meet us here

and take us to our God so near.

O God of Life, we give you praise

for all your creatures, for all your ways.

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:

Let’s bring the issues, the joys and concerns we’ve heard expressed just now, into a time of reflection and prayer, as I call on the spirit of life and love to be with us now and to bless all that we say and do together here this day.

Here in this building, made sacred by all those who have gathered here over 50 years or more and those who gathered in earlier buildings, on this same site, built by those who, like us, valued a free and open religious path, let us think of all the seasons of life this place has witnessed, the newly born, children growing, loving relationships witnessed and marked, the honouring of all who died, birthdays and anniversaries, gatherings held to remember loved ones.

Let us give thanks for the web of life that holds us all, for the breath of life that courses through our very being. Mindful of our human fragility and the preciousness of each life, may we know how to live fully in each moment we are given.

We gather in mystery and in the bonds of beloved community, grateful for our traditions and for our culture, for all that connects us. And we value also the great diversity of our human race, and we value cultures and traditions different from our own. May we ever seek ways to connect one with another, to bridge our divides and walk hand in hand, or side by side, that through mutual understanding, respect and love can grow.

As we mark the days of our lives we know that some people’s paths can be hard indeed, perhaps our own life at present seems a tough terrain to be walking. May nobody have to walk a rocky path alone and unaided. May we be people who reach out to assist others when times are harsh and may we in turn realise when we need assistance. For this is what it is to be human. We were never designed to go it alone, tempting though that may sometimes feel.

And in a short time of shared silence now we can make space for our own thoughts and prayers for those we care about, known to us or heard of through the news, let us pray. (pause)

And may the wonder of life here on earth fill each of our hearts and ripple outwards so that more people might experience life’s joys and possibilities and so that together we might work to right the world’s wrongs and create a fairer and more loving world for all, so might it be, amen.

Online Reading: ‘Imbolc’ by Jasmine Cooray

In-Person Introduction by Sarah: Today is the 1st February and is celebrated in pagan and earth centred traditions as the festival of Imbolc, an early spring festival, one of the cross-quarter days between the solstices and the equinoxes. Imbolc has many and varied traditions associated with it – the Celtic goddess Brigid, known in Celtic Christianity as Bridget, keeper of both holy fires and holy wells, bringer of springtime in lambing and new shoots, in catkins and budding plants and early flowers, the patron saint of writers, especially poets, of healers and those who work with metal and other crafts. There is a sense of the earth re-awakening at this time. All of this and more is expressed in a lovely meditation written and read for us today by poet and congregation member Jasmine Cooray. I invite you to settle back and breathe in this sense of spring’s renewal as we hear Jasmine read her meditation for us.

‘Imbolc’ by Jasmine Cooray

I invite you into a guided meditation. Make yourself comfortable on your chair and close your eyes or soften your gaze. Turn your mind inwards as you breathe slowly and deeply, letting out any tension with your breath. Relax deeply into yourself, knowing that as you are deep within yourself you remain connected to all those here and to others who are with you in spirit. I will read slowly as a meditation. [read with many pauses]

I am a stirring. I am eyelids twitching from the dawn,

from the first birdsong pulling us from dream,

from our warm soil, from our piles of leaf and fur.

I am the voice that says now, and wake, and slowly.

I sing the worms up to the surface of the cold ground.

The birds preen, sing and gossip.

I am a bud swelling at the tip of a branch,

the curve of a new shoot pushing through snow.

I am a snowdrop’s delicate petals. I am ice, melting, relenting.

I am the courage to think a new thought.

I am a breeze blowing you onto a different page.

I am a bare foot on a cold floor. A match struck in a grate.

The water is moving. We move now - onto our feet, we stretch,

we shake ourselves of dark like hazel catkins sneezing pollen through the shy light.

We are gentle, not yet dazzling.

We are a soft rousing, a name whispered, a tide slowly coming in.

The sap climbs the inside of the cherry tree, petals coil, quietly.

The foxes search for dens, cavort in the night, joyous and feral.

I am the insects waking from sleep, chattering in their busy tongues.

I am the thing you are yet to discover - the stone yet to meet your next step,

the hands that will take yours as you venture forward.

You don’t need to know me, only to remember I was here before,

and I will be here again, as the year turns, and once again there can be hope.

I am the space for your reach - I will not scratch you with a tangle of thorns.

Isn’t it the easiest, and the hardest thing, sometimes, the next breath?

Take it anyway. It’s yours. I’ll help you: look up, see the moon wax and wane.

There is Brigit, writer, maker, lighter of fires.

She’ll fill your pen with magic, your hearth with flames, your body with life.

She knows that reach and risk and making is where our souls rejoice.

She and the whole natural world know how to start again.

One breath, one step, and Spring will be waiting,

and her streams will be cool and fresh, and in them you may plunge, to emerge anew, once more.

Hymn 119 (purple): ‘O Source of Many Cultures’

Thank you very much Jasmine, a beautiful evocation of this early springtime. We have our second hymn now, not one that we know well, so I’ll suggest we stay seated for this and do feel free to sing or simply listen if you’d rather. It’s 119 in the purple book and I’ll just read the lyrics out as they so well express what some of us are yearning for – guidance on how to live well in such a diverse world. These lyrics were written by Rev Andrew Pratt, one of my tutors at college, a Methodist minister, and top notch hymn writer in my opinion. Thank you George.

O Source of many cultures,

of lives, beliefs and faith;

you brought us all together

to share one world in space.

Now show us how to honour

each vision of your way,

to live within the tension

of difference you display.

The colour and the culture,

that kept us both apart,

are gifts that we can offer,

a means for us to start

a journey with each other

till hand in hand we show,

through mutual understanding,

respect and love can grow.

Responsive Reading: ‘A Day’ by Naomi King (adapted)

On your hymn sheets or on your screens now you’ll find a responsive reading and we invite you to join in with the response – which is a bit repetitive – ‘a day!’ It’s a cheerful reading, a celebration of life’s mysteries and delights. But maybe we can speak with the awareness that for most of us, at some points in our lives a day can seem very long and very hard, that we are left longing for such days to end. Yet still we know that such days are part of life, and may contain hidden riches, unexpected sparks of connection.

Do we really apprehend what a day is?

Do we feel its importance? Do we know its capacity?

A day!

In itself one entire and perfect sphere of space and time,

filled and emptied of the sun.

A day!

Every past generation is represented in it—

it is the flowering of all history.

A day!

And in so much it is richer and better than

all other days which have preceded it.

A day!

And we have been recreated

to new opportunities with new powers;

A day!

Called to this utmost promontory of actual time,

this centre of all converging life.

A day!

And it is for to-day’s work we have been endowed—

it is for this that we are pressed and surrounded with these resources.

A day!

The sum of our entire being is concentrated here,

and to-day is all the time we absolutely have. Celebrate today.

A day!

Words for Meditation: ‘In the Silence’ by Sara Eileen LaWall

We’re moving now into a time of quiet, with a few words by Sara LaWall to lead us into silence. Then silence will end with a chime from our bell and that will lead into music played for us by George Ireland our pianist – the theme music from the film Schindler’s List, in recognition of Holocaust Memorial Day which was marked in the last week.

So let’s settle ourselves in a way that works for us, soften our gaze perhaps or close our eyes. Loosen those shoulders and let your breathing settle low down into your core, enjoying that feeling of your body resting on whatever you are touching, a chair perhaps, feel on the floor if that is good for you. This is a time to turn inwards, aware of the noises outside on busy streets, aware of one another in this service, yet our attention goes within, to a deeper place of quiet thoughtfulness.

Spirit of life and love,

In the silence

In the stillness

We hear the call of our own heart

Its tender dreams

Its sorrows and its triumphs

In the silence

In the stillness

We hear whispers of days gone by

Of dreams still becoming

The promise of the future

We celebrate together

Our individual journeys and dreams

And our collective ones

Knowing the journey is so much richer

With others to share in it.

In the name of all that is holy we pray.

Amen.

And let’s settle now together into the fellowship of stillness.

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

Interlude: from Schindler’s List by John Williams, in recognition of all those who have suffered or lost their lives through genocide (performed by George Ireland)   

In-Person Reading: from Holocaust Memorial Day, words by Michael Rosen (abridged & adapted)

These words aren’t from a polished, carefully crafted piece of writing. They’re thoughts, that I’ve borrowed (and shortened) from Michael Rosen’s Facebook page written on Holocaust Memorial Day this year. Michael Rosen is surely regarded as a national treasure, a fine writer and broadcaster and generally kind and thoughtful human being.

 International Holocaust Memorial Day was designated by the United Nations as 27th January, to mark the date when the Red Army liberated the concentration camp at Auschwitz-Birkenau. The memorial day calls on us to remember all those who have suffered or lost their lives through acts of genocide, which the UN defines as specific acts committed with the intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial, or religious group.

Michael Rosen writes ‘Today I spent an hour and a half in a studio at the BBC, talking to 12 local radio stations, one after the other, about Holocaust Memorial Day. I talked about people in my family, Jews, who were arrested, imprisoned, deported and killed in Auschwitz. I talked about how I got to find out the details of how each of them was trapped as the net closed in round Jews in France (where my father's uncles and aunt lived.) I talked about how the Nazi project was to not only eliminate living Jews but to try to remove them from German history and that my project to 'find' them and write about them, was to not let them disappear from memory, or from being known.

Several themes emerged in the interviewers' questions and the answers I gave - and in my thoughts. The Holocaust was a way of eliminating people. It wasn't a war in the usual sense of the word. It wasn't a fight between two or more combatants. You could say that it was a war on people.  Much as we'd like to say that the Nazis were 'beasts' or 'animals', the really distressing and difficult thing to say is that they were human. And not only that, some of them were clever. We have to try to understand what does it mean to be the kind of clever human who can be someone who can organise, run and enact genocide - several genocides.

One of the reasons we can and should say that Holocaust Memorial Day is about all of humanity, and not only Jews, is that the Nazi project involved killing millions of people who were, for example, non-Jewish Poles, Roma and Sinti people, Russians, gays, mentally ill and physically disabled people, Afro-Germans, and even people who refused to swear an oath of loyalty such as Jehovah's Witnesses, and thousands of civilian oppositionists - socialists, Communists, trade unionists.

So for those that say, there have been many other terrible acts of genocide down through history, shouldn't we commemorate them? I say yes. I wish there were other Days when we mark the transatlantic slave trade and plantation slavery, or the Bengal Famine or Stalin's starvation of the Ukrainians, or the Famine in Ireland, for example. There should not be any kind of league table. Each of these terrible moments of mass suffering should be moments we dwell on, investigate and learn from. How did they happen? Why did they happen? It'll be hard to progress unless we do investigate and understand these things.’ Words from Michael Rosen

Address: ‘Marking the Days’ by Rev. Sarah Tinker

I’m grateful to Michael Rosen for those words, especially his closing lines:

‘Each of these terrible moments of mass suffering should be moments we dwell on, investigate and learn from. How did they happen? Why did they happen? It'll be hard to progress unless we do investigate and understand these things.’

We humans have a remarkable capacity to forget our history. We need to be reminded, not only to stand in witness to the sufferings of others, but also to learn from humanity’s mistakes and ensure that such inhumanity cannot happen again. Yet even recent history shows clearly our human capacity to de-humanise other people. Genocide continues. Forms of slavery continue. Starvation on a mass scale continues. Establishing international events such as Holocaust Memorial Day is one way to keep memory and awareness alive, in the hope that we will learn from history rather than forget it.

I find collective acts of remembering so very moving. You might know that our Unitarian congregation in Dublin held an annual Good Friday service for 22 years where they read aloud the names of nearly 3600 people killed during the Northern Ireland Troubles. Their aim was to give victims a voice and to remember the cost of the conflict. They ended this annual collective remembering at a final service in 2024, noting the absence of political killings in recent years.

This human need to mark the days of our lives, both the sorrowful and the joyful occurs in our individual lives doesn’t it, with birthdays and anniversaries and marking the days on which particular people died. Families and friendship groups develop their own rituals. We do it here at church when we celebrate the anniversary say of the very first Essex Church opening back in 1774 or of this building opening in 1977. It’s good to remember – be that individually or collectively, in one country or the whole world. I wonder if you have special ways of remembering particular times or events in your life.

When I was teaching, these collective days were a handy way of livening up the school curriculum. World Book Day celebrated in early March is apparently still a real favourite. In secondary schools we were sometimes given money to buy each child a book. In a part of town where money was tight that really meant something. In primary schools now the children get to dress up as a favourite character on Book Day. We all need some fun don’t we and reading is a vital skill.

We also used to celebrate ‘take your daughters to work’ day, which was a way to encourage girls to value the idea of a career. It made for a fun and chaotic day in schools where some children went off to offices and factories whilst others turned up at school, keen to start their teaching careers. I remember when we started to mark International Women’s Day in the early 70s and how only much later did I find out how important this celebration was in Soviet days. To this day in countries like Latvia and Lithuania this is an important day on which women are given flowers. I’m grateful too for the more newly created days – such as the International Transgender Day of Visibility, held at the end of March – founded to counteract the negative narratives often associated with transgender lives. I have learnt more through reading their website about the lives of transgender people and the challenges they face.

So today is the earth centred festival of Imbolc and it delights me to see the pagan wheel of the year festivals now celebrated in Unitarian communities like ours. Look out for the regular labyrinth walks your congregation is planning to hold around the equinoxes and solstices. Our seasonal wall-hangings here in church are a visual reminder of the changing seasons that we notice outdoors. Ah the relief of the changing light levels. Every day it seems to be a little lighter a little longer. And did you notice the nearly full moon last night? So beautiful.

Also here in multi-faith Britain we have a richness of festivals brought to us by the world’s religions. Look out for Chinese New Year festivals happening soon and this year Ramadan begins around the 18th February. At home we have Muslim neighbours who always bring food for us as part of their marking of the days. Much appreciated. Food is so often part of human celebrations.

And it’s worth remembering that all these ways in which we mark the days of our lives evolve, develop. Sometimes a traditional element can be especially valued, that old sixpence in a Christmas pudding comes to mind. But more often we create new ways of remembering and marking and honouring and celebrating. It’s one way to keep a recurring event alive and meaningful.

We can neither mourn every grief, nor celebrate every joy in this crowded and diverse world of ours. We cannot pay attention to everything. But we can choose what we pay attention to, and we can choose the ways in which we mark the days. We can create new traditions and new rituals and bring new life to old ways of being.

Let me wish each and every one of you a very happy day!

Hymn (on sheet): ‘Blue Boat Home’

Our closing hymn today is an old favourite, Our blue boat home, and it reminds us of the reality of our all living together on this our planet earth home, sailing in space, asking our often unanswerable questions.

Though below me, I feel no motion

Standing on these mountains and plains,

Far away from the rolling ocean

Still my dry land heart can say:

I've been sailing all my life now,

Never harbour or port have I known.

The wide universe is the ocean I travel

And the earth is my blue boat home.

Sun, my sail, and moon my rudder

As I ply the starry sea,

Leaning over the edge in wonder,

Casting questions into the deep.

Drifting here with my ship's companions,

All we kindred pilgrim souls,

Making our way by the lights of the heavens

In our beautiful blue boat home.

I give thanks to the waves upholding me,

Hail the great winds urging me on,

Greet the infinite sea before me,

Sing the sky my sailor's song:

I was born upon the fathoms,

Never harbour or port have I known.

The wide universe is the ocean I travel,

And the earth is my blue boat home.

Announcements:

Thanks to Jane for hosting and Jeannene for co-hosting – we couldn’t do these services without your tech support and general loveliness. Thanks to George for great music as always and Benjie for beautifully supporting our singing. Thanks to Jasmine for reading your fine meditation. Thanks to Patricia for greeting and David for making coffee. If you are in-person do stay for cake (two cakes! carrot cake or plum, hazelnut and chocolate). If you’re online stay for a chat with Jeannene if you can.

Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week it’s on the theme of ‘Dressing Up' - could be fun (but actual dressing up is optional). Email Jane if you want to join.

On Wednesday you can join Brian for the poetry group here at church. Let him know if you're planning to come.

And on Thursday we're having a Winter Walk to Rainham Marshes RSPB reserve which is near Purfleet station. About eight of us are already signed up so it should be a nice outing. Let Jane know if you’re coming in case there are any last-minute changes of plan (the forecast is showery but I think we're just going to go for it).

Looking further ahead we have the Better World Book Club on 22nd when we’re reading ‘What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk About Fat’ by Fat Liberation activist Aubrey Gordon – we have a few copies to lend out if you’d like to join us - let Jane know.

Next Sunday Jane will be back leading the service on 'Free Love' (which is apparently not quite as racy as it sounds, but still worth coming to church for).

Details of all our various activities are printed on the back of the order of service, for you to take away, and also in the Friday email. The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections. Just time for our closing words and closing music now, a second song without words by Felix Mendelssohn.

Closing Words: ‘To Be Present in our Own Lives’ by Adam Slate

‘Spirit of Hope, Spirit of Justice,

God known by many different names:

You have given us a day unique from any other.

You have connected us, all of us, with each other and with the world,

in ways that are largely a mystery to us.

You have given us little instruction other than to be present in our own lives,

to feel wonder at the creations of the universe, and to love one another.

You have put gifts and challenges in our paths, joys and sorrows, strengths and frailties, some of which we have already encountered, and others we have yet to discover.

On this unique day, may we receive exactly what it is that we need.’

Amen. Go well, each and every one of you this day, blessed be.

Closing Music: Mendelssohn, Lied Ohne Worte Op. 53 No. 2 (performed by George Ireland) 

Rev. Sarah Tinker

1st February 2026