Our Best Selves
- 5 days ago
- 21 min read
Sunday Service, 31 May 2026
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Valborg Aulin: Lullaby of the Waves, from 5 Tone Poems, op. 7 no. 1 (performed by Jack Campbell)
Opening Words: ‘Not Always Perfect’ by Calvin O. Dame
We come into one another's presence
seeking some part of ourselves,
knowing that we do not live alone,
knowing that we cannot live fully if we are for ourselves alone.
We come as ordinary people, each with strengths
and each with weaknesses, aware of our shortcomings.
Our lives set before us many tasks. We are not always equal to them.
Too often we fall short of our best expectations of ourselves;
we do not know enough, we are not always patient, we fall into anger,
we cannot find strength, we do not wait for wisdom, we lack vision.
It hurts. It hurts to acknowledge our shortcomings.
And yet, here we are, not always perfect, not always wise, but always human,
gloriously and miraculously alive and breathing, wondrously and mysteriously human.
May our time together renew our hope.
May the stories we share refresh our courage.
May the music we hear soothe our spirits.
May the words we speak invigorate us.
May the listening we experience prove to be healing.
May the precious opportunity for human connection,
the sight of faces new and familiar,
restore us in faith and purpose for the onward journey. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Calvin Dame welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining via Zoom, and anyone tuning in at a later date via YouTube or listening to the podcast stream. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.
This morning’s service has the title ‘Our Best Selves’ – this is a phrase that will be very familiar to regular members of the congregation here at Essex Church – as each week, we end our prayers in the same way, which includes the phrase 'help us to live well each day and be our best selves'. In the coming hour we will reflect on what this might look like in practice, and how to balance this noble aspiration with an attitude of self-compassion, and acceptance of ourselves as 'good enough'.
Chalice Lighting: ‘Struggle and Joy’ by Vance Bass (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)
Every day brings struggle, every day brings joy.
Every day brings us the opportunity
to ease the struggle of another,
to be the joy in another's life.
May this flame remind us to carry our light
to each other and shine it out into the world.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘A New Community’
Let us sing together now. Our first hymn is on your hymn sheets: ‘A New Community’ – when I first came to Essex Church it was one we sang a lot, but we don’t sing it so much these days – it really expresses an aspiration to be our best selves, both individually, and together. For those joining on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s give it our best.
We would be one as now we join in singing
Our hymn of love, to pledge ourselves anew
To that high cause of greater understanding
Of who we are, and what in us is true.
We would be one in building for tomorrow
A greater world than we have known today;
We would be one in searching for that meaning
Which binds our hearts and points us on our way.
We would be one in living for each other,
With love and justice strive to make all free;
As one, we pledge ourselves to greater service,
To show the world a new community.
Candles of Joy and Concern:
Each week when we gather together, we share a simple ritual of candles of joy and concern, an opportunity to light a candle and share something that is in our heart with the community. So we’ve an opportunity now, for anyone who would like to do so, to light a candle and say a few words about what it represents. We’ll go to the people in the building first, then to Zoom.
So I invite some of you here in person to come and light a candle and then if you wish to tell us who or what you light your candle for – please keep it brief – be considerate of others. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak, as we want people to be able to hear you.
(in person candles)
And if that’s everyone in the room we’ll go over to the people on Zoom next – you might like to switch to gallery view at this stage – just unmute yourselves when you are ready and speak out – and we should be able to hear you and see you up on the big screen here in the church.
(zoom candles)
And I’m going to light one more candle, as we often do, to represent all those joys and concerns that we hold in our hearts this day, but which we don’t feel able to speak out loud. (light candle)
Time of Prayer & Reflection: based on words by Beth Lefever
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. The prayer is based on words by Beth Lefever. 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 helps you get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – be fully present – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us. (pause)
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being,
we turn our full attention to you, the light within and without,
as we tune in to the depths of this life, and the greater wisdom
to which – and through which – we are all intimately connected.
Be with us now as we allow ourselves to drop into the
silence and stillness at the very centre of our being. (pause)
Spirit of Life, God of All Love,
Guiding Principle of Goodness, Truth, and Beauty,
we have set aside this hour to tune into your constant and abiding presence,
and to be reminded, amidst the push-and-pull of our daily lives,
that our best efforts – no matter how halting and humble –
are transformed by you in ways we cannot even imagine.
Just by showing up for life, day after day, we are enough.
We are an indispensable part of the unfolding cosmic mystery. We are whole.
We are whole, even in the broken places, even where it hurts.
We are whole, even in the broken places,
the places where fear impedes our full engagement with life;
where self-doubt corrupts our self-love;
where shame makes our faces hot and our souls cold.
We are whole, even in those places where perfectionism
blunts the joy of full immersion into person, place, activity;
where "good enough" does not reside except in our silent longings;
where our gaps must be fast-filled with substance, accomplishment,
or frenzied activity, lest they gape open and draw disgust.
We are whole where we would doubt our own goodness, richness, fullness and depth,
where we would doubt our own significance, our own profoundness.
We are whole, even in our fragility, our chaos and confusion;
even where we feel fragmented, alone, insubstantial, insufficient.
We are whole, even as we are in process, even as we stumble,
even as we pick ourselves up again, for we are whole. We are whole.
And so may we, in this shared time of prayer, rededicate our hearts, and our whole selves,
each discerning the shape of our particular calling in these challenging times,
and offering our best, for the sake of the greater good of all. (pause)
And in a few moments of shared silence and stillness now,
may we speak inwardly some of those deepest prayers of our hearts —
the joys and sorrows we came in carrying –
in our own lives and the lives of the wider world.
Let us each lift up whatever is on our heart this day,
give thanks for all the blessings we have been given,
and ask for whatever it is that we most need. (long 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): ‘The Tides of the Spirit’
Let’s sing again now – our second hymn is on your hymn sheet – ‘The Tides of the Spirit’. It’s a lovely, humble, gentle hymn. We don’t sing this one often so Jack will play it through once before we sing.
We come as we are to worship and pray,
Unsure of ourselves, unsure what to say
O may we be patient and willing to be
Receptive and open to hear and to see.
The God of our life is ever at hand
But not to be called by our proud command;
The tides of the spirit have their ebb and flow
And we must be patient and move as they go.
O let us be glad and hungry of heart
To wait upon God and learn our own part,
To give life the best of the powers we have
As servants of life and clear channels of love.
Reading: ‘Learning in Community’ by UU scholar and educator Takiyah Nur Amin (adapted)
So many people I know want to do better, be different, quit smoking, what have you. I always wonder what kind of community they have to help them. For example, maybe you want to be a different mama than the way your mama mama’ed–but if you’re not part of a community that’s going to hold you accountable and support you, you’ll end up back at your factory settings. For most people, it’s just what it is to be human.
When I was preparing to defend my Ph.D. dissertation, my advisor took me aside, and said: “Before we schedule your defence, I want you to go home and draw the theoretical section for your project.”
I said, “Excuse me?”
“You can do it however you like – computer or crayons,” he said, “but focus on that methodological section. Go home and draw it.”
I was mad; I’d already poured so much into the process and frankly, the assignment felt like silly busy-work to me. But I went home, got the coloured pencils out, cussed, and began to draw my project – and realized that I’d made a huge mistake in the research design; it could have tanked my dissertation. I wouldn’t have caught it without my advisor’s suggestion.
I needed that challenge, that loving joust. In fact, all my years in graduate school taught me how much I need the collective body: the experience of other people to help me make sense of what I was reading and discerning. Putting me in a room and reading everything on the shelf wouldn’t have done it; it was being challenged by others that helped me refine my ideas: iron sharpens iron.
As a Unitarian Universalist, I need the balance of accountability and support that comes only from being in deep relationship with others. I’m proud that our faith is covenantal (where the evidence of our beliefs is demonstrated in our relationships) and not only confessional (where the evidence of belief is in the words professed in the public square.)
Sure, accountability can be difficult: we don’t always prefer to be challenged by others or required to confront our “growing edges.” Relationships of accountability and support – the challenge and the nurturing – can make us cuss and feel like a waste of time. Ultimately, however, these relationships shape us in meaningful and powerful ways that call us to grow, to do better, and to be our best selves.
(short pause)
Takiyah Nur Amin concludes with some brief words of prayer: Holy Spirit, help me accept the truth about myself that is revealed in sacred relationships so that I can grow, thrive, and be fully present to others on their journey as well. Grant me the grace and patience needed to do so gently and firmly as needed. Amen.
Words for Meditation: ‘To Hear One Another’ by L. Annie Foerster
We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness, I’m going to share a prayer-poem by L. Annie Foerster, which invites us listen to ourselves, to each other, and to that calling to do good in this world. After that, we will hold a few minutes of shared silence, which will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear music for meditation. So let’s do what we need to do to get comfortable – adjust your position – put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – close your eyes. As ever, these words are just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
The ringing of a bell calls us to worship.
The pounding of a drum calls us to war.
The popping of a cork calls us to celebration.
What is the sound that calls us to hear one another?
Listen … Listen carefully …
It is here, in the silence … Listen deeply …
The beating of our own hearts calls us to ourselves;
calls us to be our true selves;
calls us to be our best selves;
calls us to be what we might become.
Listen … There is another sound …
The breath of our neighbour calls us outside ourselves;
calls us to be companions; calls us to be allies; calls us to be partners.
Listen … we must heed the call of our own hearts,
where love and truth, caring and justice, are born.
Listen … we must heed the call of others,
to gather together for some great purpose,
where passion and fidelity, compassion and equity, are nourished.
The hammering silence calls us together
that we may do the work we cannot do alone.
Let us heed the calls that come in the silence,
that we may be well, and do good, in this world together.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Robert Schumann: Romance in F-sharp major, op. 28 no. 2 (performed by Jack Campbell)
Reading: ‘Pride’ from ‘Self Help from the Middle Ages’ by Peter Jones (excerpts, adapted)
This long-ish reading consists of a few excerpts from a fascinating book (that I’m halfway through reading) – it came out last month – ‘Self Help from the Middle Ages’ by Peter Jones. He draws on Medieval Theology, which was often shaped by the idea of the old ‘Seven Deadly Sins’, but that terminology (which we might understandably bristle at) often contains surprisingly relevant insights that still speak to our modern condition.
The bit I’m going to share is from a chapter on ‘Pride’ (or ‘superbia’ to use the Latin term of the Middle Ages). There are two bits of contexts for this reading: one is that the author, Peter Jones, had gone to Siberia, to teach Medieval Studies in a university there, on a bit of a whim; he’d lost his way and drifted into depression. And the other bit of context is that this excerpt refers to two people, Pierre Maury and Guillaume Bélibaste, who were members of a religious sect in the 1320s called the ‘good people’ (and in broad terms, Pierre was quite a decent person, and Bélibaste behaved like a narcissistic rotter, though both of them fell foul of the inquisition in the end). Jones writes:
If the medieval conception of pride has a single essence, this is it: It’s failing to see yourself for who you really are. If Bélibaste had taken the chance to look into a mirror in the days before his execution, what would he have seen? What does any acute sufferer of superbia [pride] ever see? There are actually two ways we can look at our reflections. One of them can help build self-understanding and growth, but the other can lead to self-loathing and moral decay. When people like Bélibaste peer into the mirror they see a reflection that is both ‘dark and scattered’. Sometimes they only see their faults, and at other times they only see their own good looks. But eventually they become so confused with all this ‘honour’ and ‘shame’ that the two become almost indistinguishable. What they miss in this oscillation – what these sufferers of pride always miss – is the face that’s really there.
By contrast, people like Pierre Maury, ‘gentle hearts’, look in the mirror for both positive attributes and faults. In fact, they hoover up every tiny detail. Instead of only seeing ‘honour’ or ‘shame’, they see a set of behaviours to repeat and a set of behaviours to work on. They see themselves as works in progress. By looking this way, these people come to understand that the best way to move forward is to balance self-criticism with forgiveness. ‘These mirrors give you the example,’ as John Gower’s Confessio Amantis put it, ‘to see what it is that your heart indulges, and in which manner and which form they can help you to change your life.’
Guarding against medieval pride, counterintuitively, doesn’t mean we need to look at ourselves less. Rather, we have to look at ourselves even more. Ideally, as the poem says, we should keep a mirror with us ‘night and day’, so the lessons we learn about ourselves ‘stay in the heart’ for ever. The important thing, though, is to pay attention. We have to look not only with criticism and delight, but also with compassion and honesty. Then, seeing that fragile face, we have to find a way to love it.
And this, it turns out, is how medieval superbia can transform into self-aware modern pride. It’s not enough to be humble, or to avoid being self-conscious. Although valuable, these can lead to what Thomas Aquinas called ‘pusillanimity’: a failure to stand up for ourselves, a failure to use the talents we possess for good. Instead, the flip side of pride is to work with the grain of our self-obsession, tempering it with some honest self-awareness. And this means seeing our limitations for what they are.
Pride is a blindness to ourselves, a delusion that stands in the way of self-recognition, self-acceptance, and ultimately self-love. When we try to be more perfect, or more highly regarded or respected, it’s a sign that we haven’t yet learned to live with the face we see in the mirror. Still, there’s a reason pride has become such a powerful virtue today. Ego can be self-love, so long as it’s grounded in self-recognition rather than projection. Mirror-gazing can be valuable, when we gaze in self-scrutiny and not self-obsession. It’s okay to throw around our talents, provided they don’t work against other people. (short pause)
[Jones closes by bringing it back to his own life, in the Siberian university, where he is depressed, and has lost his way]: All of which is a way of saying, I suppose, that I need to stop staring out of the window here by the exit doors of my university building, stop dreaming of doing something heroic and start doing something useful instead. That I need to recognise my limitations and find a way to be valuable for my students and colleagues here, in this submarine of a building, while this job is still mine.
Hymn 181 (purple): ‘Wake, Now, My Senses’
Time for a bonus hymn now, it’s number 181 in your purple books, ‘Wake, Now, My Senses’, and we’ll be singing it to the familiar tune ‘Slane’ rather than the tune that’s printed in the book.
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.
Mini-Reflection: ‘Our Best Selves’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Every week we say it – we pray it – ‘help us to live well each day, and be our best selves’. I wonder what that phrase means to you? How it lands? For me, it’s an important part of our purpose as a church – to aspire to better things for ourselves and for the world – to keep reminding each other, and encouraging each other, to learn and to grow, to engage in self-reflection, self-discipline perhaps, in service of our mutual flourishing.
What do we mean by ‘best’ though? There’s a phrase that gets bandied about on social media: ‘I’m living my best life’. In that context, it seems to me, the phrase can take on a rather different meaning, depending on the spirit in which it is said. There are more and less wholesome versions! I can imagine someone posting a clip of themselves drinking champagne on a yacht with that caption ‘living my best life’. Of course, this is a bit of a caricature, but for some people it’s about personal happiness, even hedonism, creating an image of ‘the good life’ that can be captured in a selfie.
(Aside – I am pro-taking selfies and chronicling life – the selfie is not the problem here!) There’s another way that phrase is used though. Someone might say ‘I’m living my best life’ when they take a moment to acknowledge that they’re making life choices that are authentic, intentional, and meaningful for them. Perhaps even – or especially – to affirm and celebrate life choices that might seem a bit quirky or eccentric to others. It can be something to say as we take stock of our life and the person we have become: ‘I’m doing alright – I’ve consistently tried to learn and grow – to make good choices – and despite the setbacks and the ups and downs – right now I’m living my best life.’
When we pray, ‘help us to live well each day, and be our best selves’, I think – I hope! – we’re praying about something more than our own personal happiness and well-being. It’s not really about praying for privilege – for a life of leisure – to be rich, fit, or popular. For me, it’s about fulfilment of our human potential – making the most of our unique gifts, whatever they may be, and consciously developing them to the full, throughout the whole of our life. Perhaps it includes being creative, expressing ourselves, making our mark on the world. But it’s also about ‘best’ in the sense of moral goodness. If we are to be our ‘best self’ that means a life spent pursuing and prioritising ‘The Good’.
There’s an inner dimension to this – cultivating virtue and developing our character – and an outer dimension which is about acting in ways that serve the common good. If we’re aiming to be our ‘best self’ then at the very least we’d hope to have a net positive impact on the world – not just the people who are close to us – but we’d hope to create positive ripples in the world that are far-reaching. We’d be looking for opportunities to help others, especially those who are worse off than us, and remaining conscious of the impact of our actions (and inaction), in order to minimise harm. Perhaps we should also pray for self-awareness – to see ourselves clearly (yet compassionately) – and regularly take a loving look in the mirror like those medieval theologians advised – remembering that we are works-in-progress, we can still change and develop, our whole life long.
There’s always a balance to be struck between aspiration and acceptance. Of course, it’s good to strive for self-improvement, right? …but there’s a risk we might end up judging ourselves too harshly as a result. I put a quote from Natalie Snodgrass Tan on the front of today’s order of service which speaks to this. She says: ‘Striving for improvement is important. Putting in good effort is important. Not allowing yourself to give up as soon as the going gets tough is important. It is, however, all too possible to go way too far in the opposite direction and work yourself into the ground. Doing your best… is a journey towards realising that your value does not depend on your achievements.’ Wise words.
And I also want to share a quote from Don Miguel Ruiz, well-known author of ‘The Four Agreements’, a very popular 90s spirituality/self-help book inspired by Toltec beliefs. One of the ‘Four Agreements’ he proposed – agreements to make with yourself, with others, with God, which can help shape a good life – was ‘Always Do Your Best’. And Don Miguel Ruiz helpfully commented on this: ‘Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment and regret.’
Our circumstances – our context, the particular time and place we were thrown into, and the societal rules that come with it – our inheritance of genetics and customs – and the wider political and economic currents we are being tossed about by – all these come together to shape our opportunities in life. ‘Our best’ might well be limited by factors that have got little to do with our inherent potential or our active efforts. Most of us will be constrained to some degree by our resources and our responsibilities. So a realistic sense of what ‘our best self’ could look like might have to take into account not just our standard human flaws and foibles but also the bigger global picture.
Still, when we come together each week as a church, we can gently but insistently call each other back to our highest aspirations, and nudge each other back on track – perhaps challenge each other when necessary – within the context of a big-hearted, generous, and compassionate community – a place where we can know ourselves to be ‘good enough’. As Takiyah Nur Amin said in the first reading, church is where we build ‘relationships of accountability and support’, which ‘shape us in meaningful and powerful ways that call us to grow, to do better, and to be our best selves’.
So let’s keep praying that prayer. And I’ll close with an echo of those familiar words: 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 90 (purple): ‘Let Us Give Thanks and Praise’
Time for one last hymn now, number 90 in the purple book, ‘Let Us Give Thanks and Praise’.
Let us give thanks and praise for the gifts which we share,
for our food and our friendship, for water and air,
for the earth and the sky and the stars and the sea,
and the trust we all have in God's love flowing free.
Give a shout of amazement at what life can bring,
put your heart into raising the song all can sing.
What a world we could build with our minds and our hands
where the people live freely and God understands.
Let us give of our best with the tools we shall need,
use our eyes, hands and brains so that we may succeed.
Inspire us to cultivate what we have sown
so that nature and nurture make a world we may own.
We adore you, great Mother, O help us to live
with a love for each other that each one can give
let the pain of our brothers and sisters be faced
and the healing of all souls on earth be embraced.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Jeannene for co-hosting. Thanks to Jack for lovely music and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Julia for reading. Thanks to Juliet for greeting and Julia for making coffee. If you’re online stay for a chat with Jeannene if you can. If you’re in-person please do stay for tea and cake (it’s Chocolate Beer Cake or Orange Cake).
At 12.30 today we have Margaret’s ‘Finding Your Voice’ singing class. Free, all welcome.
Tonight we have the Better World Book Club – talking about ‘Is This Working?’ – if you are expecting to come along to that and haven’t yet had the link let me know. Next month we’re reading ‘Just About Coping’, that’s about mental health, written by London psychologist Natalie Cawley, and we have some copies of that to loan out if you’d like to come along and join us.
On Wednesday evening we have the poetry group, speak to Brian if you want to join, and let him have a copy of whatever poem you want to bring along and share.
Sonya will be here with her Nia Dance class on Friday lunchtime and that’s the last one before she goes on summer break. Those classes will resume in September.
On Friday at 7pm we’ve got our online ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week it’s on the theme of ‘The Weather’ – and Rita is covering that so sign up with her.
Next Sunday our own Jasmine Cooray will be leading the service titled ‘Start Where You Are’.
We’re going to run a six part course over the summer called ‘How to Be a Unitarian’ – that’ll be led by me and Charlotte online – even if you’ve attended it before you can come again – we’ll be joined by friends from all over the country to explore questions of what it means to be a Unitarian and all the different forms it can take. We’ve already got a lot of sign-ups from our friends in Mill Hill Chapel Leeds and elsewhere across the country. Please do support this and sign up if you can.
Looking ahead: Save the date for a summer solstice labyrinth mini-retreat on Sunday 21st June. And Vita is going to be offering a Sunday afternoon workshop on Indian Head Massage on 5th July.
Details of all our various activities are printed on the order of service, and also in the Friday email, so sign up for our mailing list if you haven’t already done so. Our summer newsletter is hot off the press – do take a copy! – and please write your name on the list so we don’t also post it to you. The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections.
Just time for our closing words and closing music now.
Benediction: ‘The Light Shines On’ by Jane Blackall
Our chalice is about to be extinguished – but its light shines on –
burning within each and every one of us as faith, and hope, and love.
So in the days to come – whatever life brings our way –
may we always be guided by the light of this inner beacon
– reminding us of the beloved community we have known here,
and recalling us to our highest aspirations – our best selves.
And may that be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.
Closing Music: Robert Nathaniel Dett: After the Cakewalk (performed by Jack Campbell)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
31st May 2026