top of page
right-1.jpg
left-1_edited.jpg

Past services

Meet the Mystics: Zilpha Elaw

Sunday Service, 27 October 2024
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall



Musical Prelude: The Lark in the Clear Air - arr. Christopher Ball (performed by Benjie del Rosario and George Ireland)

Opening Words: ‘We Arrive Together Here’ by Andy Pakula (adapted) 

 

We arrive together here:

Travellers on life's journey.

Seekers of meaning, of love, of healing, of justice, of truth.

 

The journey is long, and joy and woe

accompany us at every step.

None is born that does not die.

None feels pleasure that does not also feel pain.

 

Numerous are our origins, our paths, and our destinations

And yet, happily, our ways have joined together here today.

 

Spirit of Life. God of all Love:

May our joining be a blessing;

May it bring comfort to those who are in pain;

May it bring hope to those who despair;

May it bring peace to those who tremble in fear;

May it bring wisdom and guidance for our journeys.

 

And though this joining may be for just a moment in time

the moment is all we can ever be certain of.

So may we embrace this and every instant of our lives. (pause)

 

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

 

These opening words welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those of you who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining us via Zoom, and anyone watching on YouTube or listening to the podcast. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.

 

This morning’s service theme was chosen with Black History Month in mind – we’re going to hear about the story of a very intriguing figure – a modern mystic, and a force of nature – Mrs. Zilpha Elaw. When I say modern, it’s all relative: she was born in Pennsylvania in 1793, and in later life she moved over here, to London, where she died about eighty years later. Just as a teaser for what’s to come, Kimberly D. Blockett wrote this in the preface to a new edition of Mrs. Elaw’s memoirs: ‘Zilpha Panco Elaw Shum spent the majority of her adult life doing things she was not supposed do to and going places she was not supposed to go.’ I hope you’ll agree that sounds like a story worth hearing about! We’re going to reflect on that story and open up broader questions about the testimonies of mystics – which often seem extraordinary and outlandish – and what we as Unitarians might make of them.

 

Chalice Lighting: ‘Spirit of Holiness’ by Elizabeth Birtles

 

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 gather as companions on a journey to be reminded of mystery and of holy things.

 

We gather to see each other's faces, to be reminded of the sacred possibility

that even in our essential aloneness we may connect with each other.

 

We gather to weave and to reweave community that is animated by the mystery of life.

 

We gather, O Spirit of Holiness, to feel your presence, to worship, to listen,

to gain insight and courage and to celebrate the journey we make as companions.

 

Hymn 45 (green): ‘Come Down, O Love Divine’

 

Let’s sing together. Our first hymn is number 45 in your green book, if you’re in the building, and for those joining via zoom the words will be up on screen (as they will for all our hymns): ‘Come Down, O Love Divine’. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s sing up as best we can.

 

Come down, O Love divine,

Seek thou this soul of mine,

And visit it with thine own ardour glowing;

O Comforter, draw near,

Within my heart appear,

And kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing. 

 

O let it freely burn,

Till earthly passions turn

To dust and ashes in its heart consuming;

And let its glorious light

Shine ever on my sight,

And clothe me round, the while my path illuming.

 

Let holy charity

Mine outward vesture be,

And lowliness become my inner clothing;

True lowliness of heart,

Which takes the humbler part,

And o’er its own shortcomings weeps with loathing.

 

And so the yearning strong,

With which the soul will long,

Shall far outpass the power of human telling;

For none can guess its grace,

Till we become the place

Wherein the Holy Spirit makes a dwelling.

 

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 Susan Manker-Seale

 

Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on words by Susan Manker-Seale. You might first 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)

 

As we gather this morning,

in this sacred space we co-create,

we embody the yearning of all people

to touch each other more deeply,

to hear each other more keenly,

to see each other’s joys and sorrows as our own

and know that we are not alone.

 

Out of our yearning we have come

to this beloved religious community.

 

May we help each other to proclaim the possibilities we see

to create the community we desire,

to worship what is worthy in our lives,

to teach the truth as we know it,

and to serve with justice in all the ways that we can,

to the end that our yearning is assuaged

and our lives fulfilled in one another. (pause)

 

And in a few minutes of quietness now, let us seek a higher perspective, a longer view;

starting right where we are, let us shift our awareness ever outward, in circles of concern.

 

Let us bring to mind those we know to be struggling this day – perhaps including ourselves –

those friends and family we hold dearest – our neighbours in community –

others around the globe we may only have heard about on the news.

And let us take time to send prayers of loving kindness to all who suffer. (pause)

 

Let us look back over the last week, taking time to notice what was good, to count our blessings – 

all the ways in which others helped or encouraged us, inspired or delighted us –

all the goodness and beauty we have known even in the midst of struggle.

And let us take time to give prayers of thanks for all we have been given. (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 (on sheet): ‘God Speaks Today’

 

Time for our next hymn now, it’s on your hymnsheet, and will be up on the screen, it’s a new  hymn by Amanda Udis-Kessler but it’s to a good old Welsh tune (so hopefully familiar). ‘God Speaks Today’.

 

In our yearning, joy, and wonder, God speaks today.

In the care we show each other, God speaks today.

As we tend each friend and neighbour,

Work for justice, welcome strangers,

Live so all are free from danger, God speaks today.

 

In the hope that keeps us burning, God speaks today.

In the lessons we are learning, God speaks today.

As we heal and make confession,

Nurture peace, reject aggression,

Share our prayers and share possessions, God speaks today.

 

In the beauty all-surrounding, God speaks today.

In the love that keeps astounding, God speaks today.

In the sacred invitation

To restore each soul and nation,

As we strive to heal creation, God speaks today.

 

Reading: ‘The Life of Zilpha Elaw’ by Andrew Prevot (excerpts, adapted) (read by Jane and Chloë)

 

Introduction from Jane: This is going to be longer than a usual reading – perhaps 10 minutes or so – but as it’s Black History Month I wanted to bring a lesser-known Black American mystic to your attention. I only heard about Zilpha Elaw for the first time a few weeks ago. Chloë and I are going to share an abridged version of Mrs. Elaw’s life story (that’s how she refers to herself in her memoir) with Chloë reading a few of the extracts from that memoir so we can her some of that story in her own words. Bear in mind we’re talking about someone who died 150 years ago so her language, and the terminology she uses, is quite old fashioned in places, and of its time. The summarised overview of her life story is mostly taken from a paper titled ‘Race, Gender, and Christian Mysticism: The Life of Zilpha Elaw’ by Andrew Prevot. So here goes with the story:  

 

Zilpha Elaw is not a name everyone knows, but her story is remarkable. As an adolescent, she lived on a farm in rural Pennsylvania. She was an orphan. Her mother perished when she was twelve, and her father died less than two years later. Before he passed, he sent her to work as a live-in servant for a Quaker couple whom she later described as “kind benefactors.” It was the first decade of the nineteenth century. Although the state of Pennsylvania had abolished slavery shortly after the American Revolution, the practice was only phased out gradually, and a small percentage of Pennsylvania’s Black population remained enslaved into the nineteenth century. Some young Black women like Elaw were held as chattel in her state, but she was not. Legally, she was a free person of colour. Materially, her condition was precarious but relatively stable, thanks to the Quaker family who had given her a place to live in exchange for her labour.

 

One ordinary evening, just like any other, she picked up her bucket and went to milk the cow. She sang a hymn to herself as she worked. As a child, she had learned to praise God with her voice. The silent spirituality of the Quaker community with whom she now lived did not move her in the same way. Since her father’s death, she had begun to reflect anxiously on her mortality and to dream about judgment day, and sitting in silence did not help her address these feelings. Seeking greater spiritual sustenance, she began attending Methodist prayer meetings. Wesleyan teachings about the process of conversion and sanctification shaped her consciousness and gave her a sense of the path that she too might follow: from recognizing herself as a sinner, to receiving the gift of justification through faith in Christ, to finally embarking on a life of Christian holiness guided by the Holy Spirit.

 

And then, in the midst of her everyday prayers and labours, Jesus appeared to her, and assured her of her salvation. This is how she describes the experience:

 

As I was milking the cow and singing, I turned my head, and saw a tall figure approaching, who came and stood by me. He had long hair, which parted in the front and came down on his shoulders; he wore a long white robe down to the feet; and as he stood with open arms and smiled upon me, he disappeared. I might have tried to imagine, or persuade myself, perhaps, that it had been a vision presented merely to the eye of my mind; but, the beast of the stall gave forth her evidence to the reality of the heavenly appearance; for she turned her head and looked around as I did; and when she saw, she bowed her knees and cowered down upon the ground. I was overwhelmed with astonishment at the sight, but the thing was certain and beyond all doubt… After this wonderful manifestation of my condescending Saviour, the peace of God which passeth understanding was communicated to my heart; and joy in the Holy Ghost, to a degree, at the last, unutterable by my tongue and indescribable by my pen; it was beyond my comprehension; but, from that happy hour, my soul was set at glorious liberty; and, like the Ethiopic eunuch (from the book of Acts), I went on my way rejoicing in the blooming prospects of a better inheritance with the saints in light.

 

This experience marked the moment of her soul’s conversion. It prompted her to join the Methodist Episcopal Church and begin a concerted effort to grow in the practice of her faith. Nine years later, while attending a revival camp meeting in the wilderness, she had another wondrous experience that she associated with her sanctification. She recalls:

 

It was at one of these meetings that God was pleased to separate my soul unto Himself, to sanctify me as a vessel designed for honour, made meet for the master’s use. Whether I was in the body, or whether I was out of the body, on that auspicious day, I cannot say; but this I do know, that at the conclusion of a most powerful sermon delivered by one of the ministers from the platform, and while the congregation were in prayer, I became so overpowered with the presence of God, that I sank down upon the ground, and laid there for a considerable time; and while I was thus prostrate on the earth, my spirit seemed to ascend up into the clear circle of the sun’s disc; and, surrounded and engulfed in the glorious effulgence of the rays, I distinctly heard a voice speak unto me, which said, “Now thou art sanctified; and I will show thee what thou must do.”

 

Although these experiences were startling, they also corresponded to desires she had articulated in prayer. They fulfilled hopes or expectations that had been nurtured in her by her faith community and by the larger revivalist context. They matched a recognizable pattern of development in the Christian life—a genre of spiritual autobiography – yet the precise circumstances and details were uniquely her own.

 

The work that this young Black woman went on to do was astonishing. She visited the sick, ministered to families in their homes, started a school for Black children, gave sermons in churches of various denominations and at camp meetings, and took up an itinerant life of apostolic service. To follow her divine calling, she had to defy the wishes of her husband, who had thought it unseemly for a woman to preach. She risked her life by traveling into the southern states of Maryland and Virginia, evangelizing Black slaves and White slaveowners, sometimes in mixed congregations, sometimes separately. She preached throughout New York and New England, then [in 1840 she] crossed the Atlantic and continued her preaching tour in England, delivering over a thousand sermons, mostly in London and the Midlands, [and also Yorkshire].

 

[Mrs. Elaw wrote of this period in her spiritual autobiography, published in 1846, and titled ‘Memoirs of the Life, Religious Experience, and Ministerial Travels and Labours of Mrs. Zilpha Elaw an American Female of Colour’ (and actually the full text is freely available for you to read online). By the time this was published she was a kind-of celebrity preacher and she reflected on this:

 

Ere this work meets the eye of the public, I shall have sojourned in England five years: and I am justified in saying, that my God hath made my ministry a blessing to [hundreds] of persons; and many who were living in sin and darkness before they saw my coloured face, have risen up to praise the Lord, for having sent me to preach His Gospel on the shores of Britain; numbers who had been reared to maturity… and had scarcely heard a sermon in their lives, were attracted to hear the coloured female preacher, were enclosed in the gospel net, and are now walking in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord. I have travelled in several parts of England, and I thank God He has given me some spiritual children in every place wherein I have laboured.”]

 

Elaw’s early vision of Jesus and ecstatic experience of sanctification were significant moments on her path toward greater intimacy with God, and this intimacy only intensified with time. As long as she dedicated herself to proclaiming the Gospel and following the promptings of the Holy Spirit within her, she reported that not “a single cloud intervened betwixt God and my soul.”

 

Not too much is known of her later decades – but Mrs. Elaw married a widower, Ralph Shum, and settled in East London, on Turner Street, off the Mile End Road. She died aged around 80 and was buried in Tower Hamlets Cemetery, in a public grave, but the precise location is sadly not known.

 

Meditation: ‘People who take God Seriously’ by Albert Nolan

 

Thanks Chloë. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. We’ve had a lot of words! So to take us into a time of silence, I’m going to share just a few more, a short quote about the mystics from Albert Nolan, that’s on the front of your order of service if you’re in the room. Then we’ll hold three minutes of silence which will end with the sound of a bell. We’ll hear some music for continued reflection.  Let’s do what we need to do to get comfortable – maybe adjust your position – put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – as we always say, the words are an offering, use this time to meditate in your own way.  Albert Nolan has got this to say about mystics:

 

‘Mystics are… people who take God seriously.

They do not merely believe in the existence of God or the divine,

they claim to have experienced the presence of God in their lives and in the world.

When the mysterious presence of God fills their consciousness in ways

that are impossible to describe, their lives are transformed.

They become happy, joyful, confident, humble, loving, free, and secure.’

 

So as we move into a few minutes of shared silence I invite you to reflect on the way of the mystics – what it might mean to take God seriously – to experience the presence of God – and be transformed.

 

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

 

Interlude: Autumn Leaves - Joseph Kosma, Jaques Previt (performed by Benjie del Rosario and George Ireland)

 

Reading: ‘Mystics and Transcendentalists’ by Dan Harper (excerpts, adapted) (read by Brian)

 

This reading by UU minister Dan Harper reflects on the relationship between his – and our – tradition and the mystics (particularly in light of some of the Transcendentalists who have been so influential in the American Unitarian and Universalist tradition – Emerson, Thoreau, Theodore Parker, Mary Rotch – who were all somewhat mystically inclined). This is what Dan Harper has to say:

 

Liberal religion has a mystical tradition! It seems odd that I have to assert this so vigorously. But our Unitarian tradition, and Unitarianism today, has not been particularly hospitable towards mystics. Throughout our history, and into the present day, the rationalists — both the theistic rationalists and the atheist rationalists – dominate our theological conversations. Our faith tradition clings to its belief in a rationalism inherited from the Enlightenment; we believe in carefully reasoned arguments; we have a tendency to focus on the brain and mind and ignore the heart and the rest of the body; we are most likely to use logical thought, and we are inclined to ignore other ways of knowing and interpreting the world.

 

Today’s Unitarianism continues to be dominated by the careful reasoners. And, speaking as a mystic myself, I’d say that today’s Unitarianism is still stuck in the same rationalistic thinking.

 

Mysticism is not for everyone. I mean that quite literally; it seems certain that not everyone can have mystical experiences. Furthermore, not everyone wants to come to church wearing a metaphorical crash helmet — and that’s what mysticism requires. Mystical experiences are not what I’d call pleasant — awe-inspiring, yes; soul-expanding, yes; life-changing, yes; pleasant, not really. I’d rather have congregations where I can come for community, for those friendships that the Transcendentalists talked about. I can walk away from those moments that seem like outward forms of religion, which seem to me empty. We mystics have to become adept at finding our own niches in the existing normality.

 

What does bother me, however, is the way that Unitarianism can be dismissive of mysticism — usually this takes the form of rationalists dismissing mysticism because it isn’t reasonable or careful — and the way that Unitarianism can be patronizing towards mysticism — usually this takes the form of the rationalists putting on a big outward show of being tolerant of alternative forms of religion, while making sure to stay far away from any serious engagement with what mystics might be saying. Unfortunately, the typical Unitarian congregation takes a binary attitude towards the God question: either God exists, or God doesn’t exist. [But consider the diverse views of the Transcendentalists and mystics in our tradition]: Mary Rotch conceived of God that was above all a moral force; God as conscience. Thoreau conceived of God as a natural phenomenon, realized in biology and natural processes. Parker conceived of God as both male and female. Yet we mostly can’t talk about these principled rethinkings of God. We are either atheists or theists, and this is a binary opposition; there is no middle ground.

 

The Transcendentalists and mystics in our own tradition challenge us to think outside the Enlightenment box. They tell us: reasoning is not the only way of knowing the world; intuition is another way of knowing the world. And they tell us: if you wish to know, to really, really know the truth, be careful what you wish for; because you may need a crash helmet; — or if one day you really do come face to face with the truth, you may find yourself as a transparent eye-ball seeing everything and knowing that you are nothing; or when you come face to face with the truth you might just “see the sun glimmer on both its surfaces, as if it were a scimitar, and feel its sweet edge dividing you through the heart and marrow, and so you will happily conclude your mortal career.”

 

Mini-Reflection: ‘Meet the Mystics’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

 

Thanks Brian. I realise we’ve had two long readings today, so don’t worry, you’re only going to get a relatively short reflection from me this week! I called today’s service ‘Meet the Mystics’ thinking that it might be the first of several such reflections in the coming year – so think of today’s service as a brief introduction to an endlessly fascinating line of people down the ages – we’re starting with Zilpha Elaw – but there are many other mystics with intriguing and peculiar life stories we can learn from. And ‘peculiar’ really is the word, isn’t it? The lives of mystics so often turn on these strange experiences.

 

Carl McColman (who’s wrote the excellent ‘Big Book of Christian Mysticism’) says this: ‘One thing I love about the mystics is just how weird they are. There are mystics who see visions, who hear voices, who smell beautiful aromas that no one else can smell, that sort of thing. There are also stories out there of mystics who levitate, who survived for who-knows-how-long eating nothing but the daily eucharistic Host, and whose bodies remained incorrupt after dying. I don’t know how true any of these stories are… [but] even if we pull back from the supernatural or extraordinary stories associated with the mystics, there’s still plenty of weirdness around the edges. Margery Kempe used to go to Mass, sit in the back of the church, and proceed to cry (as in sob and wail) so loudly that it would interfered with the liturgy (and annoy the priest). Thomas Merton stood on a street corner and fell in love with everyone he saw. Just like that. And don’t get me started on St. Simon Stylites, who spent how many years living on the top of a pillar?!?... Mystics come in all shapes and sizes. Not all of them are oddballs or eccentrics. But some of them are. And I love that about them… Let’s face it: anyone who gives their lives 100% to something gets viewed as “weird” by our culture... [and] I’d rather be odd for God!’

 

Words from Carl McColman on the weirdness of mystics (as a side note: this felt like a nice bit of synchronicity with last week’s Heart and Soul theme of ‘embracing weirdness’ where I think the general vibe was that we Unitarians are generally pro-weirdness… so perhaps this is a hopeful sign in terms of us finding points of connection between our own tradition and the mystical tradition). 

 

The piece Brian just read, from the UU minister Dan Harper, points out that Unitarians – or at least a significant fraction of us – are typically very wedded to a rational outlook and, as such, we can find the extraordinary testimonies of the mystics rather hard to swallow. If we don’t 100% share the mystic’s particular religious context or convictions it can be hard to bridge the gap and accept the reality of such outlandish stories which often seem implausible within the framework of our everyday understanding. It is undeniably tricky to know what to make of them. And so, perhaps we treat them as fun stories – fairytales – rather than sincere accounts of experience. But I don’t think this attitude does them justice.

 

When you look at the lives of mystics you often see that these mystical experiences come to people who are suffering or downtrodden; the mystical experience often transforms them and lifts them out of the circumstances they were stuck in. These are often people with very tough lives, people in need, who are literally crying out for God. And these apparent encounters with the divine often lead them to do indisputably extraordinary things with their real lives, which have an impact, or leave a legacy.

 

Consider Mrs. Elaw: she has a tough start in life, losing both her parents young, and being taken in by a Quaker family to work for her bed and board. She is going about some very ordinary labour for her time and place – just milking the cow – when she has this dramatic and overwhelming mystical vision of Jesus that sets her soul free (that’s what she says, ‘my soul was set at glorious liberty’). This experience galvanises her to join the church and grow in faith until years later she has another mystical visitation at a revival meeting where she is overpowered by the presence of God and hears a voice telling her that she is now sanctified and that God will show her what to do. And as a result of this she gives herself over to this tremendous ministry – caring for families, setting up a school, itinerant preaching (in defiance of her husband) at great personal risk, and finally coming to England, where she is heard by thousands. As I’m sure you realise, this was out-of-the-ordinary in that time, for a Black woman to command such an audience, but her mystical experiences gave her such confidence – that she was doing God’s work and speaking in the tradition of the prophets – that somehow she found the strength, courage, and persistence to overcome resistance and make it happen against the odds – or you could say to go where she was led to go, trusting that God would provide, and make a way for her. Joy Bostic, in her book on African American Female Mysticism, argues that the ecstatic experiences of divine intimacy enjoyed by Mrs. Elaw and other nineteenth-century Black women preachers helped them to develop embodied agency, resist oppressive cultural norms, and seek social transformation.

 

Like Albert Nolan said in the words we pondered during our time of meditation: ‘Mystics are… people who take God seriously. They do not merely believe in the existence of God or the divine, they claim to have experienced the presence of God in their lives and in the world. When the mysterious presence of God fills their consciousness in ways that are impossible to describe, their lives are transformed. They become happy, joyful, confident, humble, loving, free, and secure.’

 

Doesn’t that sound like a way of being in the world that we might all wish for? So, as this first round of ‘meeting the mystics’ draws to a close, let’s ask ourselves: what might we Unitarians learn from them and their stories? Perhaps the importance of ‘taking God seriously’, as Nolan says, and remaining radically open to encountering God in the everyday – whatever form such encounters might take – or perhaps being open to interpreting everyday experiences through a God-shaped lens. Maybe we’re not all going to see visions / hear voices but not all mystical experiences are so dramatic. As Dan Harper noted, the Transcendentalists variously experienced God through conscience, via the natural world, as something that was not exactly personified, but beyond gender or other binaries. And as we sang in the last hymn, ‘God Speaks Today’, we might hear God’s voice through experiences of joy and wonder, mutual care, sharing and learning, through peace-making and healing the world. One thing that seems clear is that mystical experiences aren’t just about the thrill of some temporary spiritual high – they’re transformative experiences – and they change people for a purpose – so that we can go out and be God’s hands (or God’s voice, or God’s heart) and do our bit in transforming the world.

 

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

 

Hymn 14 (green): ‘For the Beauty of the Earth’

 

Our final hymn today is an uplifting hymn of thanksgiving for all that’s good in our lives. Number 14 in your green books, ‘For the Beauty of the Earth’. Sing up as best you can.

 

For the beauty of the earth,

For the splendour of the skies,

For the love which from our birth

Over and around us lies:

For all these with joy we raise

This, our song of grateful praise.

 

For the wonder of each hour

Of the day and of the night,

Hill and vale and tree and flower,

Sun and moon, and stars of light;

For all these with joy we raise

This, our song of grateful praise.

 

For the joy of ear and eye,

For the heart and mind’s delight,

For the mystic harmony

Linking sense to sound and sight:

For all these with joy we raise

This, our song of grateful praise.

 

For the joy of human care,

Brother, sister, parent, child,

For the fellowship we share,

For all gentle thoughts and mild:

For all these with joy we raise

This, our song of grateful praise.

 

Announcements:

 

Thanks to Jeannene for tech-hosting. Thanks to Charlotte for co-hosting. If you’re joining on Zoom please do hang on after the service for a chat. Thanks to Chloë and Brian for reading. Thanks to George and Benjie for lovely music. Thanks to John for greeting and Pat for making coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – do stay for a cuppa and some carrot cake – or I think we also have some apple and sultana left over from singing on Wednesday – that’ll be served in the hall next door.

 

We’ve got various other activities coming up. Tonight’s ‘Better World Book Club’ is on ‘Africa is Not a Country’ by Dipo Faloyin. Too late to read that one if you haven’t already but why not plan to come along next month when we’re reading ‘When the Dust Settles’ by Lucy Easthope. We’ve got a few copies of that to loan out (show copy) if you’d like to join us on 24th November.

 

Next Friday we’ve got our regular ‘Heart and Soul’ online gathering – it is a great way to get to know others on a deeper level – this week’s theme is ‘Glimpses of God’. Sign up with me if you want to get the link for that.  After the service next Sunday we have our Many Voices singing group for LGBT and allies, they’ve got a special singing leader, Val Regan, coming to lead the session, I hear great things. And this may be the last MV session for a while so it’d be great to have a good turnout to support Tati & Gaynor who were the founders of this group years ago.

 

Also looking ahead to December – yes already – if you want to get the dates in your diary we’re having our main carol service and lunch on 15th, then a festive tea dance on the 22nd, and we’ll have our usual candlelit Christmas Eve as well of course. Just in case you’re already making plans.

 

Next week’s service will be our All Souls service where we remember loved ones who have died.  

 

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.  Please do sign up for the mailing list if you haven’t already. 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. 

 

I think that’s everything. Just time for our closing words and closing music now. 

 

Benediction: based on words by Cliff Reed

 

In the words, music, and quietness of this hour’s worship

we have found connection with each other,

with the Source of Hope at our own being’s core,

and with the Great Mystery from which all being flows.

 

So, in the week to come, as we return to our daily lives,

may we remember this precious sense of connectedness,

and know that we leave this sacred place with an inner light;

a light to bless and guide us through whatever the coming week may bring,

and through all the unknown gifts and challenges of the days to come. Go in peace. Amen

 

Closing Music: Sunday Jaunt - Christopher Gunning (performed by Benjie del Rosario and George Ireland)


Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall


27th October 2024

bottom of page