Sunday Service, 2 March 2025
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Reynaldo Hahn - Mai (performed by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)
Opening Words: ‘We Gather Here in Search’ by Sue Ayer (adapted)
We gather here in search of answers to life’s big questions.
We have come in search of understanding, in search of community.
We have come in search of stillness and solace, hope and healing.
Let this be a place not only of searching, but of discovery.
Let this be a place of learning, but of wisdom.
Let this be a place not only of meeting, but of connection.
And let this be a place where healing fosters giving and hope fosters service.
This is our prayer: that we may create here a circle of love, ever expanding,
ever growing, as we seek to know the very source of our being. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Sue Ayer 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 ‘Only Connect’ – in honour of E.M. Forster’s famous saying more than the fiendish BBC quiz show of the same name – and we will be exploring the importance of nurturing meaningful connections in a world where many are lonely, alienated and disconnected. As John C. Maxwell has said: ‘When you understand that being connected to others is one of life’s greatest joys, you realize that life’s best comes when you initiate and invest in solid relationships.’
Chalice Lighting: ‘Let the Chalice Connect Us’ by Catherine Callahan (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)
As the chalice is lit let us settle, together,
into the sacred space we have co-created.
Let the cares of the day fall away, for a while,
and know that here is a place for quiet reflection,
for a pause in our lives, for breathing into our true selves.
Let what is said and felt here add richness to our lives
and call us back to living by the values we share.
We are stronger together, held in community.
We share the experience of being human.
Let the symbol of the chalice connect us,
to each other and to our common purpose,
so we may carry its light and warmth into the world.
Hymn 208 (purple): ‘When Our Heart is in a Holy Place’
Let’s sing together. Our first hymn this morning is number 208 in your purple hymn books: ‘When Our Heart is in a Holy Place’. For those joining via zoom the words will be up on screen (as they will for all our hymns). Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s sing up as best we can.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we trust the wisdom in each of us,
ev’ry colour, ev’ry creed and kind,
and we see our faces in each other’s eyes,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we tell our story from deep inside,
and we listen with a loving mind,
and we hear our voice in each other’s words,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we share the silence of sacred space,
and the God of our heart stirs within,
and we feel the power of each other’s faith,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place.
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 Maureen Killoran
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on some words by Maureen Killoran. 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)
Here we are gathered – called perhaps by our sense of sacred purpose,
or duty, or the longing for community; called to be together on this day
to worship; to lift up that which is of highest worth and which directs our lives.
Here we are gathered – called to hold ourselves to our highest values –
to remind ourselves of those hopes and dreams and possibilities which,
sometimes, in the rough-and-tumble of this world, it can be hard to hold on to.
Here we are gathered – called to do our part in weaving a web of human community.
Here, now, some of us have come in pain, bearing sufferings both physical and emotional.
For those who are dealing with health concerns, we pray for courage and healing.
For those who are feeling lonely and isolated, we pray for comfort and connection.
For those who are feeling exhausted and overwhelmed, we pray for rest and solace.
May we pause for a moment now, and hold gently all the concerns,
named and unnamed, that are present in our gathering. (pause)
And here, now, some of us have come with joy bubbling in our hearts – despite everything.
May we give ourselves permission to feel those joyful moments even in the midst of struggle.
May we rejoice together, recalling that our joys are multiplied when they are shared.
May we remember and return to gratitude for the simple pleasures of our days.
May we pause for a moment, and in our silence, may we give thanks for
one blessing, no matter how small, that has touched our life this week. (pause)
And here, now, in a few moments of shared stillness, may we
speak inwardly some of the deepest prayers of our hearts.
Let us each lift up whatever is on our heart this day,
and silently ask for what we most need. (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): ‘Break Not the Circle’
Let’s sing again now – our second hymn is on your yellow hymn sheets – ‘Break Not the Circle’. We don’t sing this one often so I’ll ask Andrew to play it through once before we sing.
Break not the circle of enabling love
Where people grow, forgiven and forgiving;
Break not that circle, make it wider still,
Till it includes, embraces all the living.
Come, wonder at this love that comes to life,
Where words of freedom are with humour spoken,
And people keep no score of wrong and guilt,
But will that human bonds remain unbroken.
Join then the movement of the love that frees,
Till people of whatever race or nation
Will truly be themselves, stand on their feet,
See eye to eye with laughter and elation.
Reading: ‘If I Were Asked’ by Victoria Safford (Antony to read)
If I were asked to confess my faith or my beliefs out loud, and I were scrambling for some place to begin, I would start in the desert, in the lonesome valley, and say that first of all and ultimately we are alone. The only certainty is mystery. We are alone, and because we are alone it is the chance connections, both chosen and involuntary, that matter most of all and ultimately help and heal and hold us.
We are alone yet intricately bound, inextricably connected to soil and stream and forest, to sun and corn and melting snow. We are alone yet bound by stories we cannot get out of to ancestors and descendants we will never meet. And all these natural conditions, these bonds we did not forge ourselves and yet cannot deny, are the strands of a theology, the seeds of faith, the beginning of re-ligion, of binding all things.
When I say God – and sometimes I do, because sometimes there is no other metaphor, no other symbol, no other poetry, no other offering – when I say God I mean that place of meeting, that place where solitudes join. The space between my hand and that dogwood, the space where the tiny feet of the ant brush the dry dirt beneath her, the space between Mercury and Venus, between electrons, which we unblinkingly believe in without seeing. God is the space in between, the bridge between solitudes, the ground where we meet, you and I, or any two, by grace.
If I were asked I’d say that all of us, together, are alone, and the emptiness between us is waiting to be filled.
Words for Meditation: ‘Blessing for Knowing and Being Known’ by Kate Bowler
Thanks Antony. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share a short blessing by Kate Bowler – it’s pertinent to our theme of ‘connection’ – as it is a blessing for knowing and being known. These 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 Holly and Andrew. 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, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
Blessed are we with eyes to see the person right in front of us,
Not solely their faults or some future version of themselves
or the way they always do that thing that drives you nuts.
But as poetry incarnate, as treasures to be beheld.
Blessed are you who notice the light in their eyes or when that light dims.
You who scoot up close to their suffering,
though you might not have the right words to say.
You who bear witness to their life in its entirety—
the joys, the sorrows, the unfinishedness of it all.
You who cherish every story (even if you’ve heard it before),
listening without judgment and without haste.
May your careful attention be met with others
who see you as the same bright light
and wonder that you are.
As you practice seeing and being seen,
may you remember that you too are a blessing
to all who have the privilege to know you.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Amy Beach - Within Thy Heart (performed by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)
Reading: ‘Bids for Connection’ by Taylor Nicioli (adapted) (Brian to read)
“There’s a woodpecker over there!”
Alyssa Caribardi watched as her friend whipped her head around to look out the window and seek out the bird. And with that simple gesture, she knew their friendship would last.
In what may seem like a small, everyday exchange, her friend’s reaction was an important indicator for their relationship: she had responded to Caribardi’s “bid for connection”. Their interaction might not look important to outsiders, but she had given someone close to her an opportunity to connect, and her friend had reciprocated. Bids for connection are when one partner reaches out to the other person for either interest, or a conversation or expressing a need. Depending on how the partner responds, the relationship either succeeds or doesn’t do so well.
The bids can be verbal or physical, such as pointing out a bird in a tree, repeating something heard on TV, asking for advice or even simply directing a smile at the other person. Whether the bid is big or small doesn’t matter — what is important is the other person’s response. And it’s not just important for couples to know about these opportunities to connect — it also affects parent-child relationships, friendships, even business associates.
Caribardi posted her experience with the woodpecker on TikTok, referring to it as “the bird test,” alongside others who took to the app to recount their experience with giving out small bids — such as pointing out cool birds — to their friends and partners. This test is a good example of the importance of “turning toward” a partner, one of the three responses someone can have to a bid. If a partner responds to a bid, even with a simple acknowledgement that the other person was heard, it is the best and most beneficial response to have. If the partner were to ignore the other person and have no verbal response to the bid being made, that is considered as “turning away.” But the worst response is “turning against,” which happens when there is hostility toward the bid. Partners may respond with a comment such as “Stop interrupting what I’m doing,” or another variation that tells the other person they don’t care about the attempt to connect.
While bids are crucial in a relationship, no one is perfect. You just want a ratio of more positive to negative responses to bids. The more direct a person is with a bid and its intent, the more likely the bid is to be reciprocated. It’s OK if a person notices that someone is sending out a bid to connect but they aren’t feeling up to connecting at the moment, maybe because they are too tired or have a lot on their mind. In such situations it is worth communicating those feelings directly and honestly instead of lashing out with a “turning against” response, which can cause some real emotional damage. Turning toward one another is really the foundation of a good strong friendship.
Reflection: ‘Only Connect’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Thanks Brian. As I said at the top of today’s service, our exploration today is around the need to nurture meaningful connections, in a world where many are lonely, alienated and disconnected. Even in this densely populated city – we must be getting on towards 10 million Londoners now –though we bump up against each other every day it’s still so easy to feel anonymous and isolated. And in theory we’re very connected in a virtual sense too, to the whole world, via the internet. But despite this, I suspect most of us would acknowledge that true connection isn’t always easy to find.
Think of how it is – what a lack it is, or would be – not to have significant connections in your life. To be without friends or companions with whom you can share mundane moments, talk about nothing in particular, tell of what’s happened in your day, all the joys and frustrations, and have them know and care about your story as it is still unfolding. To feel it matters to someone. That you matter. I would imagine that many of us have experienced such loneliness and disconnection at times in life.
Philosophers typically talk about different sorts of loneliness: transient, situational, and chronic.
Transient loneliness is the sort which might come upon any one of us at any time, a passing feeling, a lonely moment, maybe when we’re alone in a big crowd, or temporarily stuck at home alone. Situational loneliness has some identifiable external cause, like a bereavement or a break-up, and it tends to last for a longer period, maybe months or years, after the triggering event. Chronic loneliness is a long-term situation which is often related to having built up insufficient ties with others. The reasons for this may be ‘rooted in the self’ in some sense, in a person’s personality traits, or an inability to reach out to others and make personal connections, but there’s more to it than that.
There are numerous contextual, political and economic factors which increasingly play a role in creating a climate where many are socially excluded. George Monbiot has written powerfully and movingly on how decades of neoliberalism have ushered in what he calls ‘The Age of Loneliness’ – just think back to those infamous words ‘there is no such thing as society’ – but Monbiot says: ‘Structural changes have been accompanied by a life-denying ideology, which enforces and celebrates our social isolation. The war of every man against every man – competition and individualism – is the religion of our time, justified by a mythology of lone rangers, self-starters, self-made men and women, going it alone. For the most social of creatures, who cannot prosper without love, there is no such thing as society, only heroic individualism… having consumed all else, we start to prey upon ourselves. We have destroyed the essence of humanity: our connectedness.’
In a world of job insecurity, and short-term or zero-hours contracts, where relatively few people can expect to stay put in one place for long and put down roots, where working hours are often long and antisocial, and shift patterns are such that it’s hard to sustain regular social commitments – and where those who are out of work are hit by the lack of affordable places to meet and make connections, and all those other life-constraints that come along with being under financial pressure in austerity, (thinking, for example, of those whose disability allowances have been cut, limiting their mobility) – well, in these conditions, loneliness and alienation will most likely result.
Catholic theologian Gerald Arbuckle has written at length about this political aspect of loneliness and disconnection, and argues that, whether or not we are personally lonely at this instant, we have a responsibility to help alleviate the conditions which bring about loneliness – by working for the common good, seeking truth, fighting prejudice, welcoming the stranger, resisting the culture of individualism – and more generally doing what’s right for the most marginalised people in our society.
Whatever the root cause of loneliness for a person – situational, structural, or ‘rooted in the self’ – it can lead to a vicious cycle that’s hard to break out of. The more pressing and evidently desperate our need for connection, the more it can cause others to recoil, to back away from us, and the more we experience such rejection the more likely we are to misread social cues out of learned pessimism. Or we can get into a mindset of ‘I can’t do right for doing wrong’ – I know this one – and we withdraw.
Kira Asatryan, in her book ‘Stop Being Lonely’, makes the simple but astute point that loneliness is not a lack of people but a lack of closeness. This is why you can feel lonely in the middle of a crowd, or in a city of 10 million people, as we Londoners know. She says that closeness consists of two things: ‘knowing’ and ‘caring’ (and being known, and being cared for, it has to go both ways, there needs to be a sense of give and take). Both knowing and caring are verbs – things you do – they’re not states you fall into accidentally – they require intentional and sustained action. And the good news is that you can consciously work to build closeness with anybody who is at hand (and who responds positively to your overtures – we need to be attentive to boundaries and respect them – of course nobody is obliged to become intimate with us). By ‘knowing’ she means ‘understanding another person from that person’s perspective’ and some key things which make that possible are engaging in deep and real conversation – authentically speaking and listening about the stuff that really matters – and consistent presence – reliably showing up, spending time, living life alongside one another. By ‘caring’ she means ‘being able to feel and show that the other person’s well-being matters to you’ – not by trying to fix their problems – but paying attention, noticing how they’re doing, checking in.
I only have one significant quibble with this book, which I’ll mention in passing – the author is a bit down on technology and suggests it causes loneliness. But I’d argue that prior to being able to engage in ‘knowing’ and ‘caring’, as she suggests you do, need to be able to have contact, to be present in some sense, with another person. It is clear to me that there are plenty of people who through no fault of their own are physically isolated (through reasons to do with illness, disability, neurodiversity, economic factors including overwork, and so forth) and you probably won’t be surprised to hear that as far as I’m concerned technology can provide a valuable channel through which to connect. It’s just a tool for us to use. Though we do need to be thoughtful in how we use it.
So, all that said, if we’re feeling lonely, isolated, disconnected, what might we do about it? Perhaps we can start with the words from John C. Maxwell I shared earlier, and which are on the front of your order of service. He said: ‘When you understand that being connected to others is one of life’s greatest joys, you realize that life’s best comes when you initiate and invest in solid relationships.’ From that I take three things: First, we need to understand how truly important it is to cultivate real, meaningful, connections – how they are often life’s greatest joys. Second, we need to realise that, unless we are incredibly lucky, such deep connections won’t just fall into our lap, we need to be proactive and initiate them, reach out to others – which is inevitably a risky business as it comes with the possibility of rejection and disappointment – we might attempt to open up our true selves to connect with another and find they’re not that interested. It’s painful to have our interest rebuffed. And third, we need to invest in those connections, put the work in to maintain them, so they will last, hopefully deepen, over the course of a lifetime. Again, easier said than done, we’re all so scattered.
I want to add a note from Andrea M. Darcy here – she makes a distinction between real connection and something else that often masquerades as connection – something more surface-level. She writes: ‘Real connection is more than just talking to others or sharing interests. After all, we might talk for over an hour with someone about sport or TV, even if we secretly can’t stand them. Connecting with others is a sense of being open and available to another person, even as you feel they are open and available to you… There are other behaviours which might look like connection on the surface but they often aren’t connection at all. Perhaps you are always trying to connect with others by being interesting, funny, or smart, and you are always looking to others’ reactions to know what to do next. In your need to feel accepted, you are not truly being yourself, or are even manipulating others for attention. That’s not connection, it’s showmanship.’ An interesting perspective from Andrea M. Darcy.
And this staying-on-the-surface, getting stuck in small-talk, is just one of many things that has the potential to block true, deep, connection. One of the most obvious blocks is not putting ourselves out there, not meeting and talking to people, whether that’s in-person or online. If we withdraw into ourselves, if we’re out of circulation, then any possibility for connection is nixed before it’s started. As I previously mentioned this can be a paradoxical effect of loneliness; we may feel so sad and lonely – or so wounded by past troubles – rejection or exclusion or trauma – that we just can’t face putting ourselves out there again. We need to break out of that trap. Take small steps. Another block to connection is a kind of ambivalence – perhaps even a fear of entanglement and commitment – we want connection, and support, but maybe we’re wary of what it might demand of us if we become emotionally involved another person, or a community, and care for their well-being.
As Taylor Nicioli said, in the reading we heard from Brian, it’s important to pay attention to ‘bids for connection’. These are all the ways that we reach out to each other – not necessarily through grand gestures, just little daily opportunities to connect, get closer, build relationship (like Nicioli’s example of pointing out an interesting bird to her friend, who responds positively by turning to look at it). These ideas on ‘bids’ come from the well-known relationship psychologists John and Julie Gottman. If we’re on the receiving end of such ‘bids for connection’ we have three choices: we can turn towards (acknowledge the bid and be warm and receptive), we can turn away (ignore or brush off), or we can turn against (a more actively hostile and irritable dismissal response). And if we want to build a deep connection with someone we need to notice that these ‘bids’ are happening and respond positively towards them more often than not. And of course we can’t just sit back and wait for these bids to come to us. We need to be courageous and reach out to make those bids towards others. And it does take courage to reach out and to respond. And it does also take courage and resilience to accept it graciously when the answer is ‘no’. Not everyone will want to connect with you, for whatever reason, and that has got to be OK.
In a sense, as Victoria Safford said in the reading we heard from Antony, we are all ultimately alone. But making meaningful connections – whether that’s connecting to our deeper selves in solitude, with others in one-to-one relationships, or more collectively in community, and with God (or something beyond, however we may conceive of it) – this making of meaningful connections is truly a religious act. The most sacred stuff of my own life has come to me through connection, I know. As Safford said, ‘When I say God I mean that place of meeting, that place where solitudes join… God is the space in between, the bridge between solitudes, the ground where we meet, you and I, or any two, by grace… all of us, together, are alone, and the emptiness between us is waiting to be filled.’
So, if you are already blessed with connection and closeness… treasure it. And maintain it.
Consider what you might do to nurture and deepen the web of relationships you already have.
And if you’re not so blessed in this regard… then lament, if you need to, let yourself be sad about it. But think about reaching out too. If you’ve been disappointed, pick yourself up, and try again. Think about trying something new to connect and find closeness. Be brave, and ask for what you need. And perhaps, as we return to our daily lives, each one of us can reflect on the part we might play to help create a less lonely society, through the choices we make – both personal and political – in the week to come. May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.
Hymn 181 (purple): ‘Wake, Now, My Senses’
Let’s sing again. Our final hymn is number 181 in your purple books, ‘Wake, Now, My Senses’. Don’t be confused if you read music; it’s to an alternate (more familiar) tune than is printed. 181.
Wake, now, my senses, and hear the earth call;
feel the deep power of being in all;
keep with the web of creation your vow,
giving, receiving as love shows us how.
Wake, now, my reason, reach out to the new;
join with each pilgrim who quests for the true;
honour the beauty and wisdom of time;
suffer thy limit, and praise the sublime.
Wake, now, compassion, give heed to the cry;
voices of suffering fill the wide sky;
take as your neighbour both stranger and friend,
praying and striving their hardship to end.
Wake, now, my conscience, with justice thy guide;
join with all people whose rights are denied;
take not for granted a privileged place;
God's love embraces the whole human race.
Wake, now, my vision of ministry clear;
brighten my pathway with radiance here;
mingle my calling with all who would share;
work toward a planet transformed by our care.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Antony and Brian for reading. Thanks to Holly and Andrew for lovely music today, and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Juliet for greeting and Liz for doing the coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – please do stay for a cuppa and cake – we’ve got rhubarb crumble cake for the second week in a row because it went down well and I thought I’d practice making it.
Hannah will be lead our community yoga session after the service. That’s free of charge. You can pick up a flyer with the dates of future yoga sessions.
Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week we’re considering ‘Beauty’ – email me if you want to join us for that.
I want to draw your attention to another event that’s coming up soon – our friends at New Unity are hosting a workshop on disability on Tuesday 11th March at 6.30pm – that’s a hybrid event and I’ll be helping to look after the online zoom room – let me or Adam know if you want to come.
Don’t forget that we’ll have our art play / crafternoon in a couple of weeks on the 16th March.
This month’s Better World Book Club is on ‘Every Kind of People’ by Kathryn Faulke and I have one last copy to loan out if you’d like to come next time.
Next Sunday we’ll be back here at 11am when the service will be on the theme ‘Every Little Helps’.
Special announcement regarding the election of our General Assembly’s Executive Committee: if you’re a signed-up member of our church, that is you signed up or renewed in the year 2024-25, you’re entitled to vote in this election which is very important for the future of our denomination. I’ve got your voting packs with me so if you’re a member can you please come and find me before you leave today so that I can tick you off my list and give you everything you need to vote. If you’re staying for coffee I’ll come round and find you but if you’re dashing off please find me first.
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 Barbara Cheatham
It’s time to take our leave. In the days to come:
may each of us bring encouragement into another's life;
may we each be surprised and delighted by the gifts that surround us;
may each of us be enlivened by hopefulness and curiosity as we travel onward –
And may we remain connected in spirit until we meet again. Amen.
Closing Music: W. A. Mozart - Fin ch'han dal vino (performed by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
2nd March 2025