Our Hurting World

Mar 7
19 min read

Updated: Mar 14

Sunday Service, 8 March 2026

Led by Dr. Patricia Brewerton

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2eKVAijQRRg

Musical Prelude: Miniatures for Piano Trio, No. 2, Gavotte - Frank Bridge (performed by Kiana Umali Garvey, Abby Lorimier and Andrew Robinson)

Opening Words: ‘Here We Are Gathered’ by Patricia Shelden (adapted)

Here is where we gather in the presence of the Sacred.

Here is where we gather to experience the Holy.

Here is where, together, we face the unanswerable questions

and acknowledge that not knowing is as sublime as it is frustrating.

Here is where we unite in the midst of Life and all the glories

and suffering it can hold, knowing both are ever present.

Here is where we ask, think, risk, explore, ponder and offer what

might not be welcomed or even acceptable somewhere else.

Here is where, if we allow it, we are deeply moved.

Here is where we encounter each other in deep and powerful ways

that surprise us, yet without which – perhaps – we might not make it through.

Here we gather to worship, to experience something happen –

perhaps something different for each of us according to our beliefs,

something unnamed, uncategorized, and unusual yet absolutely necessary.

Here we are so gathered: our minds, our hearts, and our souls. (pause)

Words of Welcome and Introduction:

These words from Patricia Shelden 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 via YouTube. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Patricia Brewerton, and I’m a member of this congregation. I’m standing in for Jane today as she’s not feeling well.

This morning we will be exploring the theme of ‘Our Hurting World’. So many of us are painfully aware of the world’s sufferings. We can often feel quite overwhelmed by all the terrible events we hear about on the news – the violence and oppression – we witness so many scenes of devastation. And we might equally be aware of the pain and distress that people are experiencing closer to home. The pressures of our current age are weighing heavily on so many. So in our service today, through readings, hymns, and time for quiet reflection, we will reflect on how we can respond to this reality.

Chalice Lighting: ‘We Kindle this Flame’ by Philip Randall Giles

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 kindle this flame as a symbol of the light

we would keep glowing in our lives:

of appreciation for those who differ,

loving kindness for those who suffer,

esteem for all who remind us

of our heritage and calling

as agents of the Most High.

Hymn 191 (green): ‘To Worship Rightly’

Our first hymn is number 191 in your green hymnbooks: ‘To Worship Rightly’. For those joining on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.

Now let us sing in loving celebration;

The holier worship, which our God may bless,

Restores the lost, binds up the spirit broken,

And feeds the widow and the parentless.

Fold to thy heart thy sister and thy brother;

Where pity dwells, the peace of God is there;

To worship rightly is to love each other;

Each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer.

Follow with reverent steps the great example

Of those whose holy work was doing good:

So shall the wide earth seem our daily temple,

Each loving life a psalm of gratitude.

Then shall all shackles fall; the stormy clangour

Of wild war-music o’er the earth shall cease;

Love shall tread out the baleful fire of anger,

And in its ashes plant the tree of peace.

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 William Sinkford

Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on words by William Sinkford. 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 – to 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)

Let us enter the space of silence and honesty known by many names.

We stand with those here, who struggle and grieve.

May the love of this gathered community

support them, helping to heal their wounded hearts.

We rejoice with those here who celebrate today,

marking the passages out of which we weave the fabric of our lives.

And we all give thanks for the gift of our coming together.

The opportunity to raise our voices in song.

The blessing of learning, more deeply,

the power of this community in our lives.

So often our lives seem small.

Together we feel the potential power that is in us all.

We pray for our hurting world. A world at war with itself.

A world seemingly unable to accept that we are all sisters and brothers,

a world unable to accept that we are unalterably linked,

a world unwilling to acknowledge that there is but one destiny

on this tiny blue planet, and that our decisions shape that destiny.

We pray for all those, wherever they are in the world, who stand in harm's way today.

We pray for our hurting world, where the power of love,

which we know in our own lives, seems so often overwhelmed.

There is so much healing to do. So many wrongs to right.

So much justice deferred. So much violence to end.

But most, gracious spirit, we pray for ourselves.

Many of us live lives of relative privilege and comfort, while so many go hungry.

Many of us can make choices, while so many have no choice.

Many of us have the luxury of reflection, while for so many survival is a triumph.

Yet, we still long for security and certainty.

Uncertainty is our too constant companion.

We still feel loneliness, hurt and fear.

We still hope for peace, which can only come through the door of justice.

We still search for the holy and for wholeness in our lives.

May we, in this gathered community,

find a reason to hope and firm ground on which to stand.

May we, here, know love, and in our turn be able to offer love to others.

May we, now, find strength to carry on.

May we, in this place, find the holy, which is always waiting for our call.

May we, today, find a space in our hearts to know, that we need not walk alone. (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 – count 30 seconds or more)

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): ‘Resistance Song’

Let’s sing again now – our second hymn is brand new – it’s on your hymn sheet and it’s called ‘Resistance Song’. Hopefully some of you will have watched the video that Benjie and Andrew kindly recorded of it. And maybe the tune will be familiar to you. But we’ll ask Andrew to play the whole tune once before we sing. And let’s give it our best as it’s an important message for these times.

In a time of pain when evil reigns and despair has the upper hand

When the ones with might are convinced they’re right as their harm cuts across the land,

We won’t back down. We will not give ground for hope has made us strong.

We have placed our trust in a God who’s just as we sing a resistance song.

They think they’ve won but we’ve just begun, and we will not be dismissed.

Till we meet the dawn we will struggle on. With hope we will resist.

In a time of rage, in a violent age when power is built on fear,

When they kill with ease and the least of these are the first to disappear,

We won’t back down. We will not give ground for peace has made us strong.

Let them call for war. We will say “no more” as we sing a resistance song.

They think they’ve won but we’ve just begun though they raise a threatening fist.

We will do God’s will till the guns fall still. With peace we will resist.

In a time of grief, when there’s no relief from the sadness deep inside,

When their harshest goal is to steal our souls and to rob us of our pride,

We won’t back down. We will not give ground for joy has made us strong.

There’s a holy care that we meet in prayer as we sing a resistance song.

They think they’ve won but we’ve just begun, and in wonder we persist.

We will shout our praise till the end of days. With joy we will resist.

In a time so cruel when they call us fools for the empathy that we feel,

When compassion seems like a distant dream, and unfairness is all too real,

We won’t back down. We will not give ground for love has made us strong.

With our open hearts we will do our parts as we sing a resistance song.

They think they’ve won but we’ve just begun, and their hatred will not be missed.

We have known God’s call. Love will conquer all so with love we will resist.

Reading: The Question of Suffering’ by Jeff Foster (read by Pat Gregory)

“How do we go on living our ordinary, comfortable lives while knowing that terrible suffering is going on every single day for so many people around the world? Can we ever make peace with that suffering?”

It is a brilliant question. I have struggled with it myself for years. I do not think you “make peace” with cruelty and violence. Not today. Maybe never. And why should you? Look. I cannot tell you how to grieve or how to fight. I cannot tell you what to do. But I can suggest the following.

Let the suffering of the innocent and the oppressed move you. Let it break your heart. Let it hurt. Deeply. The pain itself means your heart is still working! You are not numb. You are not detached, cold, or indifferent. You are not bypassing your humanity. You hurt because your brothers and sisters are hurting. You belong to the same river of humanity.

At the same time, you must accept a limit to your hurting, if you can. Remember, you did not cause this horror. You cannot carry all of it without being crushed by it yourself, without being destroyed by the weight of the world’s suffering. You can only carry what is truly yours. So you choose how and when to engage, as much as possible. When to read. When to watch. When to talk about world events. When to listen. You do this consciously, deliberately. Grief and anger have to be held in presence, not poured endlessly into your nervous system all day long without limits. That is not compassion. It is a fast track to burnout and helplessness.

So you breathe first. You find your ground. You return to your real responsibility each day. How you speak. How you treat the people around you. How you love your child, your partner, your neighbour. How you refuse to pass unconsciousness onwards. How you refuse to fuel numbness, hatred, or violence in your family, your community, your workplace, your town or city.

You do your own inner work. You look honestly at the violence and prejudice in yourself. You attend to your own childhood wounds. You look at the log in your own eye before pointing at the splinter in your neighbour’s. Healing your own trauma is not a distraction from saving the world. I truly believe it is part of how the world is saved.

And yes, of course, you can still protest. But not as permanent outrage. Not as more hatred layered on top of hatred. You act where action is possible. You show up. You speak. You vote. You give generously. You withhold consent. And you do not let protest make you cruel! If your protest costs you your capacity to love, the damage has already spread. And you rest too. You rest when you can. Rest is not a luxury. It is fuel. It is the source of all things. And you allow joy, without apology and without guilt! Joy is not a betrayal of the cause. Joy is how you stop the violence from taking your soul too. You shine your light, even when it feels impossibly dark.

And remember, there is no clean or easy way to live with all this. Anyone who says there is, is being glib, or trying to sell you comfort way too cheaply. Being deeply affected by the world does not resolve neatly. It does not offer easy closure. You may never be at peace with all the suffering in the world, but maybe you can make peace with THAT. Finally, I’d say that it really is brave to choose to stay awake, tender, open-hearted and curious in a world that keeps asking you to shut down.

Words for Meditation: ‘Hymn for the Hurting’ by Amanda Gorman

Thanks Pat. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share a poem – ‘Hymn for the Hurting’ by Amanda Gorman. Following the poem 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 from Kiana, Abby and Andrew. 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 and music are just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.

‘Hymn for the Hurting’ by Amanda Gorman

Everything hurts,

Our hearts shadowed and strange,

Minds made muddied and mute.

We carry tragedy, terrifying and true.

And yet none of it is new;

We knew it as home,

As horror,

As heritage.

Even our children

Cannot be children,

Cannot be.

Everything hurts.

It’s a hard time to be alive,

And even harder to stay that way.

We’re burdened to live out these days,

While at the same time, blessed to outlive them.

This alarm is how we know

We must be altered —

That we must differ or die,

That we must triumph or try.

Thus while hate cannot be terminated,

It can be transformed

Into a love that lets us live.

May we not just grieve, but give:

May we not just ache, but act;

May our signed right to bear arms

Never blind our sight from shared harm;

May we choose our children over chaos.

May another innocent never be lost.

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

Interlude: Piano Trio No. 2 in C minor, II. Andante espressivo - Felix Mendelssohn (performed by Kiana Umali Garvey, Abby Lorimier and Andrew Robinson)

Mini-Reflection: ‘Universal Themes’ by Jane Blackall (read by Patricia Brewerton)

Our minister, Jane, was invited to speak at a OneLight gathering just over a year ago, when the topic of exploration was ‘Universal Themes’. Here’s what she had to say about this topic. Jane wrote:

For me the most significant universal themes are suffering and struggle. Perhaps many of us are familiar with Buddha’s parable of the mustard seed? A woman comes to the Buddha, desperate, as her son has died, and she begs him to bring the boy back to life. The Buddha says that he can help her if she can bring him some mustard seeds from a household where no one has died. She searches high and low, but eventually realises that every house has been touched by loss, and she is not alone in her suffering. She understands that death and suffering are unavoidable; while she is still in great pain, she is no longer in denial, and comes to accept reality as it is.

Jane continues: Whenever I lead a service or a small group one of the things I’m most conscious of is that on any given day at least one of us (and sometimes it’s me) has turned up in distress, in pain, carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, somehow burdened by the trials of life. They might have had a recent bereavement or a breakup. They might have got a scary diagnosis, or perhaps they’re caring for someone who’s sick and they’re not coping, maybe they’re struggling to make ends meet to feed their family. Perhaps they’re dealing with addiction and on the verge of relapse. Maybe they’re autistic and on the brink of a meltdown from sensory overload. And we may not always be able to tell that by looking at them. We humans can be surprisingly skilled at pretending to be OK even when we’re really not.

Each week in our Sunday service here we have time for lighting candles and sharing our joys and concerns – and sometimes that gives us a little window into each other’s lives – the sort of things that each of us carry. Even more so in our Heart and Soul contemplative gatherings where people are a bit braver about sharing how things really are for them. Each time we open up like this and share authentically, although the particulars of our situations differ, there are always deep resonances.

This sharing of how things really are for us – even when it’s messy – even if we think we’re failing at being a competent grown-up (and imagining that everyone else is managing better than we are) – this honest sharing reveals how universal this experience of suffering and struggle is – and that can be a source of comfort, insight, importantly, deeper connection with others who have been there too. I came across these wise words by Bryan Stevenson, a human rights and justice activist, which spoke to me – he said: ‘We are all broken by something. We have all hurt someone and have been hurt. We all share the condition of brokenness even if our brokenness is not equivalent. The ways in which I have been hurt—and have hurt others—are different from the ways others have suffered and caused suffering. But our shared brokenness connects us.’

And I would add that there’s often something we can learn from hearing others’ stories – especially in ongoing communities like this where we come back and reconnect again and again and we get to hear how the story unfolds – how others overcome their own difficulties, how the wheel turns, how the tough times often do eventually pass. It gives us hope. As the UU minister David Rankin says: ‘I have learned to trust those who are witnesses rather than gurus, those who express their confusion as well as their knowledge, and those who share their suffering along with their joy.’

Jane closes the short reflection with words of blessing from Tim Haley: We walk this earth but a brief moment in time. Amid our suffering and struggles, great or small, let us continue to learn how to celebrate this life, together. Let us continue to grow in our capacity to love ourselves and each other. And let us continue to move toward renewal: building a world of love, justice and peace. Amen.

Responsive Reading: ‘We Open Our Hearts with Love’ by Naftali King

And I invite you to join in a responsive reading, by Naftali King, to close today’s reflections. We won’t put the words up on screen as it just has a simple repeated refrain: ‘We open our hearts with love’.

When the world’s violence shatters the joy of a moment

We pause and reach out for the hands that remain