Our Place Within the Web of Life

Sunday Service, 11 October 2026

Led by Eva Kortekaas

(video and audio to follow after the event)

Musical Prelude: Sarabande from Cello Suite no. 3 by J. S. Bach (performed by Abby Lorimier and Andrew Robinson)

Opening Words: ‘Come Into This Place’ by Margaret Weis

Come into this place with your whole self

– the parts that are raw and exposed;

the part that is beaming with joy;

the part that is seeking the truth, the new, the possibility.

Come into this place –

open your heart, lay down your burden,

lift up your hope – for something new to happen.

Come into this place,

with fellow travellers on the journey –

some faces new

and others familiar

and all welcoming you here – now, to this moment.

Come, let us worship together.

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

Welcome everyone on this Sunday morning. And a warm welcome as well to those joining us online, whether on Zoom right now or watching the recording back later.

My name is Eva Kortekaas. I’m from a tiny town called Hippolytushoef in the Netherlands, and I’m a ministry student at Unitarian College, currently here for the second part of my placement. I also bring you greetings from the Netherlands Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, my home community in Amsterdam.

It’s a joy to be here with you this morning, and I look forward to sharing some of my thoughts with you. 

Chalice Lighting: ‘We Are Not Alone’ by Michael DeVernon Boblett

But before we continue, I’d like to light the chalice. This is a ritual shared by many Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists all around the world, and it reminds us that we are part of a larger community that reaches far beyond these doors. I always like to say that this ritual sets our time together apart as something special, maybe even sacred.

So I’d like to light the chalice now with these words adapted from Michael DeVernon Boblett:

(light chalice)

We are not alone.

We are this flame, ancient as the stars, new as the vulnerable spark.

We are this chalice, rimmed by the spiral dance of searching.

We are the light soaring, the shadow deepening, the dance between them.

We are the heirs of our ancestors and their fires, the healers and their storytellers.

We are here. We are here for ourselves. We are here for each other. And…

We are not alone.

Hymn 43 (purple): ‘Gather the Spirit’

(Eva to introduce hymn)

Gather the spirit, harvest the power.

Our separate fires will kindle one flame.

Witness the mystery of this hour.

Our trials in this light appear all the same.

Gather in peace, gather in thanks.

Gather in sympathy now and then.

Gather in hope, compassion and strength.

Gather to celebrate once again.

Gather the spirit of heart and mind.

Seeds for the sowing are laid in store.

Nurtured in love and conscience refined,

with body and spirit united once more. 

Gather in peace, gather in thanks.

Gather in sympathy now and then.

Gather in hope, compassion and strength.

Gather to celebrate once again.

Gather the spirit growing in all,

drawn by the moon and fed by the sun.

Winter to spring, and summer to fall,

the chorus of life resounding as one.

Gather in peace, gather in thanks.

Gather in sympathy now and then.

Gather in hope, compassion and strength.

Gather to celebrate once again.

Candles of Joy and Concern:

Another ritual shared by many Unitarians is a time for sharing our joys and concerns. I believe that by telling each other about the deeply important moments in our lives, a community can grow closer. Joys might be heightened because people will celebrate them with you, and concerns or sorrows might become just a tiny bit lighter because there are many shoulders to bear them with you.

If you would like to share a joy or a concern, I’ll invite you to come forward in a moment. We’ll go to the people here in the building first, and then to everyone on Zoom.

So… to light a candle in person, please come forward. If you wish to share what the candle is for, I do want to ask you keep it brief and to use the lectern so everyone can hear you.

(in person candles)

And if that’s everyone here, we’ll go over to the people on Zoom. You might want to switch to gallery view now, and when you’re ready to speak, please just unmute yourselves and I’ll light a candle for you. We should be able to hear you and see you up on the big screen here in the church.

(zoom candles – thank people so they know they have been heard)

And I’m going to light one more candle for all those joys and concerns that we still carry in our hearts, but that remain unspoken for now.

Time of Prayer & Reflection: words by Eva Kortekaas

After sharing our joys and concerns, I invite you to join me for a time of prayer and reflection. Please, take a moment to settle in any way that helps you prepare your mind and body to be present with yourself, with all those here and online and with that something that is greater than us. You might want to adjust the way you’re sitting, close your eyes or maybe just let your gaze soften. (pause)

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

With our heart, mind and body we now turn to you

We reach for that part of us that connects us

to something that is greater than all of us together.

That holds us in eternal love and gentle wisdom

Be with us as we embrace that stillness and silence

at the core of our being, where that little inner voice lives. (pause)

Many things have just been shared.

Things full of joy, concern or even sorrow.

Some things that remain unspoken for now.

Please be with us as we celebrate the joys together

And as we hold out our hands to those who need them.

But it’s not just here.

We have friends, family, workplaces and neighbourhoods…

Communities we are a part of.

There too, much lives in people’s hearts and minds.

May we carry these people with us as well

Lifting up their joys, concerns and sorrows

Even if we don’t exactly know what they are

And when we look far beyond

We see those we cannot touch so easily.

People in faraway places, the natural world around us,

Our ancestors and those who we will come after us.

Help us to not forget them, to stay aware,

So we might keep them in our hearts and in our minds as well. (pause)

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

From the outskirts of the web of life we return to ourselves

To that core of silence and stillness within ourselves, where the deepest parts of ourselves live

Where we can sincerely take a peek back and reflect a little… (pause)

On those things that still worry us and that we keep close to our hearts.

Some might be for those we love and care about,

others for all the troubles in the world and everything in between. (30 seconds of silence)

On those moments when we need to be honest with ourselves... about what we need, what we may need to change, or what we may need to bring into the light. (30 seconds of silence)

On the beautiful things that happened to us in the last few days. Little kindnesses,

unexpected bits of delight, those moments of gratitude. (30 seconds of silence)

Spirit of Life, God of All Love,

If I look at all of this, it’s quite a lot...

Please just help us to make our hands,

hearts and minds strong enough to carry it all.

Amen and blessed be.

Hymn 181 (purple): ‘Wake, Now, My Senses’

(Eva to introduce - note to follow the text from the hymnal, but not the music. Called Slane, but no worries, just follow the piano.)

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.

Reading: from ‘The Books of Delight’ by Ross Gay (read by Brian Ellis)

In healthy forests there exists a constant communication between the roots and mycelium, where often the ill or weak or stressed are supported by the strong and surplused. By which I mean a tree over there needs nitrogen, and a nearby tree has extra, so the hyphae, the fungal ambulances, ferry it over. Constantly. This tree to that. That to this. In a tablespoon of rich fungal duff are miles and miles of hyphae.

In trying to articulate what, perhaps, joy is, it has occurred to me that among other things - the trees and the mushrooms have shown me this - joy is the mostly invisible, the underground union between us, you and me, which is, among other things, the great fact of: our life and the lives of everyone and thing we love going away. If we sink a spoon into that fact, into the duff between us, we will find it teeming. It will look like all the books ever written.

Words for Meditation: ‘A Tree Visualisation’

I would like to invite you to join me in a short visualization, a little journey in our minds. I know this doesn’t always come easily to everyone and sometimes it just doesn't click. So if this is the case for you, please don't hesitate and use this time to meditate in any way that works for you.

After the visualization, we’ll have 3 minutes of silence ended by the sound of the bell. Hit bell diagonally!

So let’s take a moment to get comfortable. You don’t need to sit in any special way… just find a position that feels good for you... you can let your feet rest flat on the floor… feel the support of your chair in your back… maybe roll your shoulders a little or loosen up your neck…  and when you are ready, close your eyes…

I want to ask you to picture a tree in your mind… it can be any kind of tree… does it have leaves… or maybe needles… does it stand tall and strong like the oak… or is it slender and graceful like the willow… the bark… is it smooth or rough? And when you see your tree in front of you, what does it feel like for you?

Slowly you become the tree… roots hold you firmly in the ground… a soft breeze makes your smallest branches move gently… sun shines upon your top… and maybe a little animal climbs up your trunk…

Then let your attention sink down… more and more… really feel your roots reaching into the earth, moist soil surrounding each individual little root… and as you focus you become aware of something else… little white threads spidering through the earth… connecting you with every tree in the vicinity… you become aware of one tree nearby first… but slowly you discover more and more trees… all connected by these little white threads…

Something is moving along one of the little threads… bringing you something… something you need… a bit of nitrogen, a drop of water… along another thread something is moving away from you… a gift you can give… some sugar molecules maybe?

You don't have to do anything else right now… just notice how you are a part of this network… rooted in one place… giving… receiving… connected far beyond what you can see…

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

Interlude: Largo from Sonata in E minor by A. Vivaldi (performed by Abby Lorimier and Andrew Robinson)

Reading: ‘The Revelation of Sonmi 451’ from the movie ‘Cloud Atlas’ (read by Hannah King)

The next words is spoken by Somni-451, a character in the film Cloud Atlas. She is a cloned slave fast-food worker living in a society built around extreme consumerism, who escapes and learns about the world beyond the life she has been given.

“To be is to be perceived, and so to know thyself is only possible through the eyes of the other. The nature of our immortal lives is in the consequences of our words and deeds, that go on and are pushing themselves throughout all time.

Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.”

Hymn 128 (purple): ‘Our World is One World’

(Eva to introduce hymn)

Our world is one world:

what touches one affects us all —

the seas that wash us round about,

the clouds that cover us,

the rains that fall.

Our world is one world:

the thoughts we think affect us all —

the way we build our attitudes,

with love or hate, we make

a bridge or wall.

Our world is one world:

its ways of wealth affect us all —

the way we spend, the way we share,

who are the rich or poor,

who stand or fall?

Our world is one world,

just like a ship that bears us all —

where fear and greed make many holes,

but where our hearts can hear

a different call.

Reflection: ‘Our Place Within the Web of Life’ by Eva Kortekaas

So much stays invisible when we take a simple walk in the forest. Sure, we might see trees, an amazing variety of plants, mushrooms that suddenly pop up everywhere, the forest floor covered in leaf litter in all possible colours and if we are lucky, a fox or a squirrel might just scurry away right in front of us. But despite its beauty, this isn’t what amazes me. No, what amazes me is what lies beneath our feet... the world Ross Gay painted so effectively in just a few sentences. A web of roots and mycelium with miles and miles of hyphae stretching out between them. Fungal ambulances carrying nitrogen and other supplies from tree to tree. It’s almost impossible to imagine, but let’s be honest… right there, hidden beneath our feet, lies a miniature version of the interdependent web of life.

At the same time, that description also sounds achingly familiar… so much so that it almost feels like looking into a mirror. Because it is not that different for us humans… heck… I’d say it’s completely familiar. We are kinda like the trees from the visualization. And while we don’t have little white threads running between us with fungal ambulances ferrying supplies, we can’t deny that we are all connected by invisible strings. And we don’t often say it out loud, but in our hearts we know that those who struggle are often helped by those who have something to give. Each and every one of us is a part of that interdependent web of life… it’s before us, behind us, to the left and the right of us and even above and beneath us.

But what does it mean to actually be a part of this web? What does it mean  for our daily life? The whole idea of sustaining each other is beautiful, but it feels like there is so much more to it. And while it surely comes with many beautiful things, it also has it’s challenges. Because the interdependent web of life is vast. It connects us not only with our loved ones and the communities we love and care for, but it also ties us to humanity in circles ever rippling outward, to the whole of the natural world and even those who came before us and those who will come long after we have left. And I find myself thinking, how are we ever supposed to find our place in that web? Frankly, it feels kinda overwhelming to me.

I could come up with many different answers, but for today I’d like to briefly explore two dimensions… let’s picture it like two different axes…  one horizontal, one vertical. The first dimension, the vertical axis, is that of time. As human beings we grow and change and our place in the web changes with it. Then there is the second dimension, the horizontal axis, and this one I will call space. Not space in the sense of outer space, but rather the space we occupy, our own little corner of the web, and how that relates to everyone else around us. So let’s dive in. 

The first dimension was that of time. From the moment we are born till the moment we pass away we are a part of this web, but our role changes as we age. As a baby, as a young child we are protected and cared for. But as we grow, we will hopefully begin to support others, even if our way of doing so will change a lot. And finally, in our final years others hopefully begin to support us again and we accept that.

All this change in our lives can be hard. Because on one hand we crave change, all the new experiences and adventures that life offers us. But on the other hand is there also a part of us that likes for things to stay safe and familiar. We desire at least some form of continuity. And we can spend our whole lives finding the right balance between these two. I don’t think there is a real solution to this, but one thing we can do is remain aware of our own journey through time and the impact we are having.

Because that impact is bigger than we imagine. Remember Somni’s words: ‘The nature of our immortal lives is in the consequences of our words and deeds, that go on and are pushing themselves throughout all time.’ What we do now, will affect the generations after us, just like the actions of our ancestors still affect us. And Somni adds: ‘Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.’ At some point we will not be here anymore, but what we leave behind might live on for hundreds of years.

One way to do this is to really start thinking about that other dimension I mentioned. As we journey through time, at every moment in our life we do inhabit a space in the here and now. We each occupy our own little corner of the web. That does come with a bit of a challenge… it makes for a lot of little corners with people who all have different preferences and who all need to live together, in good and bad times. It really asks us how we exist in relationship with others.

And here too there is an interesting tension within us. On one hand we want to be part of one or more communities, much like this one right here. We need those connections. But on the other hand we also need to be able to walk our own path, with as much freedom as possible. Plus, the balance between the two is different for everyone.

Realistically, this means that at some point things are going to clash. One man wants to walk his dog, the other wants to be able to walk his cat… when the two come too close, I'd say there is a good chance there will be strife. Here too there is no perfect solution, but perhaps a beginning is recognising that we all need to learn two things. To take our own space and maintain it, while at the same time giving others their own space as well. Because really, if you’re walking your dog and someone is approaching with their cat, how hard is it to just cross the street?

Gotta say… being a part of this whole interdependent web doesn't sound like a lot of fun... in fact, it sounds mostly like a lot of hard work and responsibilities. But there is more to it. Let’s return to the last bit from Ross Gay’s book. A complicated bit that can be read in different ways. But for me, the power is not in understanding, but in all the images it evokes …

For example, when Gay speaks about joy being ‘the invisible, underground union between us, you and me’, I immediately picture all the connections I have made throughout my life, all the little threads I have formed. Some are joyous, others full of peace, love and other nice things. And some hold things like pain, fear or anger. But that does not lessen how powerful they are.

And when Gay speaks about ‘the great fact of: our life and the lives of everyone and things we love going away’, he immediately reminds me of how fleeting all these connections are. And yes, that does make me a little  bit sad, but at the same time it makes me cherish them even more.

The most powerful image is when he speaks about sinking a spoon into that fact, into the duff between us, and finding it teeming… immediately a picture of the desolate forest floor comes to mind, with a few leaves drifting in the wind. It might appear completely barren, but if we take a spoon and start digging, we will find the web of life, teeming.

Teeming with what, you might ask… For one, all those connections that I mentioned. But what else can we find? Memories maybe? That magic of opening up presents during the December holidays or that bittersweet ache of driving home after a holiday. Challenges we have overcome that gave us strength, or maybe even a few that we failed at, but that ultimately taught us wisdom. And there are probably things I cannot even begin to think of right now.

Ultimately I believe all those things we find it teeming with, are the bits that give our life meaning, the reasons that make all the challenges beautiful and worth it. Not a barren, desolate forest floor with a lonely leaf drifting in the wind, but one covered in every plant and flower you can imagine, teeming with life.

Hymn (on sheet): ‘We Can Become’

(Eva to introduce hymn)

Community, supporting friends,

Hands joined in unity . . .

Rejoice, my friend in fellowship,

In living, full and free.

O let us live with humankind

As sisters, brothers, true.

We’ll share our joys, our sorrows share,

Becoming as we do.

We all can grow.  We can become

Our finer selves set free.

Risk what we are, sure in our faith

In what we yet can be.

Announcements:

Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Jeannene for co-hosting (if you’re online please do stay on afterwards for a chat with Jeannene). Thanks to Abby and Andrew for lovely music and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Brian and Hannah for reading. Thanks to Marianne for greeting and Liz for making coffee. Please stay afterwards for tea and coffee!

Your minister Jane is on autumn break for a few weeks but all the regular events are still on.

After today’s service Hannah will be offering her yoga class back here in the church from 12.30. If you’ve not done the class before do have a chat with Hannah and fill in a health questionnaire.

Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week our theme is ‘The Long Game’ – email Mandy if you want to join tonight or Rita if you want to join on Friday and they will send you the Zoom link. And also you can join me later in the month for an in-person Heart and Soul, that’s on Wednesday 21st October, please do come along.

Sonya is offering Nia Dance from on Fridays at 12.30pm. That’s holistic movement and dance.  Get in touch with Sonya if you want to know more.

The Better World Book Club is reading ‘Worn’ by Sofi Thanhauser – about the history of clothing –an unusual subject but it brings in all sorts of social justice and environmental concerns. We have a few copies of that to lend out (hold one up) if you’re able to join us online on the 26th October. Send Jane an email to let her know if you’ve borrowed one of the books.

Looking further ahead Jane and Jasmine will be running a new RE course this autumn – it’s every Thursday night in November – on ‘The Language of Faith’. It’ll be exploring our relationship to religious language. That’s on Zoom. All are welcome but you need to sign up in advance and there will be a little bit of homework to do in advance. Email Jane if you want to sign up for that.

Next Sunday our service will be led by Sarah Tinker on the theme of ‘Rising and Falling’. That’ll be followed by the Crafternoon and also ‘Each Child A Light’, the Gaza memorial quilt project, have a chat with Patricia if you want to know more about that.

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. And we do have a lot of copies of our autumn newsletter which we want to use to promote our events so if you know anyone who might be interested in what we do then take a copy for them! 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 music now.

Benediction: based on words by Amy Zucker Morgenstern

And as we have come to the end of this service, I’d like to extinguish this service with these words by Amy Zucker Morgenstern.

We extinguish this flame,

But the sparks within us remain alight.

From each of us, in our supposed solitude,

The signals buzz and hum, sparkling through space one to another,

Connecting us invisibly

But palpably.

We are one.

And from every window,

Our light shines.

(extinguish chalice)

Closing Music: Rondo from Concerto no. 4 by G. Goltermann (Performed Abby Lorimier and Andrew Robinson)

Eva Kortekaas

11th October 2026