Playing with Words

Sunday Service, 5 October 2025

Led by Rev. Stephanie Bisby

Opening Music ‘Traumerei’ from Kinderszenen by Robert Schumann (played by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)

“This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.”

– Toni Morrison, via The Nation

Words of Welcome 

Welcome to our service here at Kensington Unitarians today. For those who don’t know me, I’m Stephanie Bisby, I’m half time minister with Doncaster Unitarians, I’m also a member of the national Executive Committee, a novelist and a poet, which probably accounts for why I’ve chosen to follow up on National Poetry Day, which was on Thursday. With a little help from the congregation, this service has been shaped around a core of three poems.  But before we come to those, let’s settle ourselves with some words from the Unitarian Universalist minister Reverend Doctor Gordon Butler McKeeman, known to his friends as Bucky.

‘We Summon Ourselves’ by Gordon McKeeman

We summon ourselves from the demands and delights of the daily round:

from the dirty dishes and unwaxed floors;

from unmowed grass, and untrimmed bushes;

from all incompletenesses and not-yet-startednesses;

from the unholy and the unresolved.

We summon ourselves to attend to our vision

of peace and justice;

of cleanliness and health;

of delight and devotion;

of the lovely and the holy;

of who we are and what we can do.

We summon the power of tradition and the exhilaration of newness, the wisdom of the ages and the knowing of the very young.

We summon beauty, eloquence, poetry, and music to be the bearers of our dreams.

We would open our eyes, our ears, our minds, our hearts to the amplest dimensions of life. We rejoice in manifold promises and possibilities.

Amen

Chalice Lighting: by Cliff Reed

It’s our tradition as Unitarians to light a chalice, the symbol of our free faith, to mark our gathering and our connection with other Unitarians across the world who are doing the same. I’d like to invite [x] to light our chalice today, as I read some chalice lighting words by Cliff Reed which speak to the theme I have chosen today, the week of National Poetry Day.

We light our chalice

to celebrate our heritage of light:

the light of science and of art;

the light of story and of poem;

the light of nature and of reason;

the inner light of spirit and of truth.

First Hymn: 158P The Flame of Truth is Kindled

(Stephanie to introduce hymn)

The flame of truth is kindled,

our chalice burning bright;

amongst us moves the Spirit

in whom we take delight.

We worship here in freedom

with conscience unconstrained,

a pilgrim people thankful

of what great souls have gained.

The flame of thought is kindled,

we celebrate the mind:

its search for deepest meaning

that time-bound creeds can't bind.

We celebrate its oneness

with body and with soul,

with universal process,

with God who makes us whole. 

The flame of love is kindled,

we open wide our hearts,

that it may burn within us,

fuel us to do our parts.

Community needs building,

a Commonwealth of Earth,

we ask for strength to build it -

a new world come to birth.

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 and Reflection

We remain in reflective mood now, and I invite you to take a moment to make sure you are as comfortable as possible, and to settle yourself in whatever posture helps you to feel most prayerful, if prayer is something you do, or meditative, if that’s how you to prefer to connect with whatever you hold sacred.

We begin this time of reflection with words by Beth Merrill Neel.

‘All Is Not Right’ by Beth Merrill Neel

Holy God, we admit to you that all is not right — in our hearts and in our world,

We look to the darkness and not to the light.

We look for what is broken, and not at what is being mended.

We look to criticize and not to praise.

We look at ourselves and not to you.

Turn us around so that we look at the possibility, at hope, at promise,

at grace, at healing, at love.

PAUSE

In this sacred and holy space, filled with the promise of grace and light, we continue in prayer with words by Katie Kandarian-Morris.

‘Here Is the Place to Be Forgiven’ by Katie Kandarian-Morris

Spirit of Life, Spirit of Love, Spirit of Generosity,

As we draw near to that quiet essential side of ourselves,

may we open enough to consider the sacred choices we make

each minute, each hour, each day that add up to a lifetime.

Let us become aware that here is the place to be forgiven,

and to forgive ourselves for any past thoughts and actions;

here is a place to begin again with love.

As we are forgiven, let us open our hearts to forgive others,

to pray for them well-being and joy,

that they be lifted from worry and burden into peace and abundance,

may we all be blessed with riches of the spirit

and moment upon moment of peace and serenity.

Amen.

Second Hymn: 100P May I be Filled with Loving Kindness

(Stephanie to introduce hymn)

May I be filled with loving kindness.

May I be well.

May I be filled with loving kindness.

May I be well.

May I be peaceful and at ease.

May I be whole.  

May you be filled with loving kindness.

May you be well.

May you be filled with loving kindness.

May you be well.

May you be peaceful and at ease.

May you be whole.

May we be filled with loving kindness.

May we be well.

May we be filled with loving kindness.

May we be well.

May we be peaceful and at ease.

May we be whole.

Poem: ‘I Will Try’ by Mary Oliver (read by Marianne)

I will step from the house to see what I see

and hear and I will praise it.

I did not come into this world

to be comforted.

I came, like red bird, to sing.

But I’m not red bird, with his head-mop of flame

and the red triangle of his mouth

full of tongue and whistles,

but a woman whose love has vanished,

who thinks now, too much, of roots

and the dark places

where everything is simply holding on.

But this too, I believe, is a place

where God is keeping watch

until we rise, and step forth again and –

but wait. Be still. Listen!

Is it red bird? Or something

inside myself, singing?

Poem: ‘Far North’ by Susan Ioannou (read by Brian)

Far north,

When blue curves closer

As if to cup the earth

Between outcrop

And pine’s needled spaces

Mind can almost touch a Presence

Until past dusk

The darkness crystallises

-one after one – such stars!

A sprinkle, scatterings, multitudes

Layering thicker and thicker

Than any imagined vision

Glittering from immensities of black,

Beyond and beyond

And beyond

-how can a single Spirit

Watch over it all?

Reading: from The Poetry Business School (read by Stephanie)

Over the past few years, we’ve all been through the wringer somewhat, haven’t we? The world has been a relentless teacher (to put it politely!), throwing curveballs at every turn. The pandemic turned our lives upside down, forcing us to scramble for new ways to live, work and – let’s face it – simply breathe. Add to that the seismic shifts in our business landscapes, especially here in the UK, where the cutting of ties with Europe has felt like the rug being pulled from under our feet. It’s been a lot to take in.

So when I first heard about this book, I was rather intrigued. A book that marries poetry with business? I’m sure a few of you are wondering, ‘What on earth do those worlds have in common?’ One is often seen as being soft and whimsical, a world of emotion, creativity and imagination. The other hard-nosed and practical, driven by numbers, strategies and bottom lines. But let me tell you, this book is about to flip that thinking entirely on its head.

…

What makes this book so powerful is that it isn’t just a guide for business growth or a manual for success (though you’ll undoubtedly find plenty of practical advice and inspiration here). It’s a gentle reminder that at its core, business is a deeply human endeavour. It’s about people, ideas and emotions. It’s about connection, creativity, and having the courage to see the world differently. And in the face of the challenges we now face as a society – with our communities and planet under such immense strain – this synergy between business and creativity is becoming more than just a philosophy. It’s evolving into a mandate for founders and business leaders to use their incredible strength for more than ust the bottom line; to use it to do something good.

And that’s where poetry comes in. Poetry, with its ability to distil the essence of our experiences into a few carefully chosen words, helps us tap into that deeper well of understanding. It invites us to pause, reflect and see the familiar in a whole new light. In a world that’s constantly pushing us to go faster and to do more, poetry gives us permission to slow down and just be present. It’s a way of connecting with ourselves and others, finding meaning in the mundane somehow, and beauty in the chaos.

Meditation Words 

Poetry invites us to pause, reflect and see the familiar in a whole new light. I hope that sounds a little familiar. I hope it sounds like what our ministers and our congregations do each week, in our churches. We’re moving into a time of meditation now, an invitation to reflect on some words, some poetry, which helps us see the familiar in a new way. Roy is on holiday, so I’m going to read on his behalf the words he has contributed to this service, ‘Think of Others’ by Mahmoud Darwish.

Make yourself as comfortable as you can, close your eyes if you wish.

‘Think of Others’ by Mahmoud Darwish

As you prepare your breakfast, think of others

   (do not forget the pigeon’s food).

As you conduct your wars, think of others

   (do not forget those who seek peace).

As you pay your water bill, think of others

   (those who are nursed by clouds).

As you return home, to your home, think of others

   (do not forget the people of the camps).

As you sleep and count the stars, think of others

   (those who have nowhere to sleep).

As you liberate yourself in metaphor, think of others

   (those who have lost the right to speak).

As you think of others far away, think of yourself

   (say: “If only I were a candle in the dark”).

These words are just an offering, so feel free to meditate in your own way, but if the words speak to you as they do to me, you may like to take some time to think about, and send loving kindness to, whichever others feel important in your world, and of course, and just as importantly, to yourself. 

We’ll sit quietly for a few minutes, which will end with the sound of a bell, and that will be followed by some music for meditation.

Silence (3 min) 

Musical Interlude: ‘A Little Reverie’ from the music for Ivor The Engine by Vernon Elliott (played by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)

Address by Rev. Stephanie Bisby

I don’t know if everyone here has heard of The Nation magazine. I hadn’t until the quote on the front of the order of service turned up, earlier this week, as the daily Words of Wisdom for the London Writers’ Salon, an online writing room I frequent whenever I get the chance. The words were simply attributed to Toni Morrison, writing in The Nation. I have long loved Morrison’s novels Jazz and Beloved, and I found the quote interesting enough to prompt me to go in search of the original article, which turned out to be part of a collection commissioned for the 150th anniversary of The Nation magazine.

Toni Morrison is better known as a novelist than a poet, but her novels and even her journalism have the flavour of poetry.

“This is precisely the time when artists go to work,” she wrote. “There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.”

She uses linguistic devices my Toastmasters friends would recognise:

•            Parallelism: no time, no place, no need, no room.

•            Power of three: we speak, we write, we do language.

•            Decreasing sentence lengths, making the final shorter sentence land with the heavier weight of a well-argued conclusion.

You could argue that these techniques make her a public speaker, not a poet, but the truth is that ever since Aristotle first started labelling the components of effective speaking and writing in his masterworks ‘Poetics’ and ‘Rhetoric’, master communicators have danced on the boundaries between prose and poetry, the spoken and the written word, playing with the nuances of language to put their messages across more effectively in service, we hope, of the greater good.

The Nation magazine is one of many which seeks to use language to improve society. Its first edition talked about “the conflict of the ages, the great strife between the few and the many, between privilege and equality, between law and power, between opinion and the sword.” It’s hard to believe that was written about 160 years ago now, it feels so current, as do Toni Morrison’s words, written in 2015 but drawing on a friend’s response to her reaction to the re-election of George W Bush in 2004. Morrison describes feeling helpless, depressed, unable to write, but her friend bursts in to interrupt her description with the frustrated insistence: “No! No, no, no! This is precisely the time when artists go to work—not when everything is fine, but in times of dread. That’s our job!”

In 2004, in 2015, or in 2025; in the wake of Dubya’s election, or Trump’s; whether our pressing concern is pandemic or Palestine; our job is to go to work, to speak, to write and to do language. Morrison’s call to action is directed towards artists and writers, but it applies to all who work for the good of society: not just those in the creative professions but also those of us who work, whether in a paid or voluntary capacity, within our churches and chapels, and those who use our day-to-day business dealings to try to shape a better, kinder, more ethical world.

Which brings me back to the Poetry Business School. The short reading we heard earlier was written by Holly Tucker MBE in the introduction to the book. Holly wrote, “business is a deeply human endeavour. It’s about people, ideas and emotions. It’s about connection, creativity, and having the courage to see the world differently.” I trust you won’t have to look too far to find somewhere else that fits the same description. I think Holly’s description perfectly matches the culture that Sarah and Jane have worked so hard to create here over their years in ministry here, the culture of the Unitarian movement in general, and the culture I find especially strongly in those who come together each summer at Hucklow for Unitarian summer school. Church, like business, is a deeply human endeavour. It’s about connection, creativity, and having the courage to see the world differently. And so, of course, is poetry.

We heard three poems chosen by the congregation today. The one which caught my attention most immediately was Mary Oliver’s ‘I Will Try’. Steeped in the Unitarian Universalist tradition and in the natural surroundings of her adopted home, New England, Mary Oliver’s poetry has always called to me, with its perfect blend of the specific and the universal, its wisdom and its whimsy. “I’m not red bird,” the poet says, playfully stating the obvious in such a way that we’re forced to question it, because we know that the narrator is a person, not a bird, but we also know that there is something of red bird in each of us, and on a good day, if we listen hard, we might be able to hear red bird inside ourselves, singing.

The second poem, by Canadian poet Susan Iouannou, makes the same step from natural beauty to something bigger, something hard to articulate in prose. The open blue sky gives way to a beautifully alliterative “sprinkle” of “stars”, “scatterings”, contrasting with the “immensities of black” which make up the night sky, and the fact that alliteration is picked up again in the final wondering question, “how can a single Spirit watch over it all?” makes a connection at a level below the conscious between the stars and the single spirit, suggesting a universal cosmic spirit which she, like so many Unitarians, stops short of naming. 

The final poem, ‘Think of Others’ by exiled Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish, also comes to that image of light in the darkness, with its final line, “If only I were a candle in the dark,” but in this poem the stars, sky and clouds exist more as a backdrop to the complexities of human existence. We are encouraged to think of our daily breakfast, our water bills and similar mundanities, but also to remember that there are others whose existences are much more challenging (‘do not forget the people of the camps’ and ‘those who have nowhere to sleep.’) Darwish addresses political realities much more directly than the other poems, but still in a playful way. I don’t know exactly what it means to be ‘nursed by clouds’, and I don’t suppose many people actually prepare pigeons’ food at the same time as breakfast, but Darwish picks these quirky details to ground our mundane everyday experiences in the wider picture of life on our planet, both human and otherwise.  

All three poems play with ideas about the place of humanity in the world, and our purpose, and all three ultimately deliver a sliver of hope that we, as humans in this complex and changing world, might be able to make things a little better for each other, through our humanity but also through the work – and the play - of the poet.

The 150th anniversary issue of The Nation magazine noted that, “the one constant in The Nation’s history has been faith—not in political parties or policies, but in what can happen when you tell people the truth. It is this notion that has sustained The Nation since its founding: that and the idea that there are always alternatives—in history, in politics, in life—that would make our country and the world a more humane, just and secure place.” In other words, it promotes the power of possibility, the need to nurture integrity as an ideology. No wonder that Toni Morrison’s inspirational words to artists found a home there.

The opening words of our service were actually the penultimate paragraph of Toni Morrison’s article. The article went on to end with this powerful expression of the better alternative: “I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge—even wisdom. Like art.”

It may sometimes feel as if our world is failing, or we as humanity are failing, but the chaotic times we live in do indeed provide us with information, knowledge and the opportunity to develop our wisdom – and the best way to do that is to continue to engage creatively with our experiences and responsibilities as humans, whether that’s as artists, poets, business people or chapel members. As Toni Morrison has said, that’s how civilizations heal.

As we go out into our bruised and bleeding world again, may we be bringers of healing through our words and our work.

Amen.

Third Hymn: 213P Where Science Serves and Art Inspires

(Stephanie to introduce hymn)

Where science serves and art inspires

a struggling humankind,

there truth and beauty point to God's

horizons of the mind.

Where joys are shared and fears which once

lay hid in lives apart,

there love unlocks the doors on God's

horizons of the heart.

Where mind and heart together trust

the One who makes life whole,

there faith reveals in splendour God's

horizons of the soul.

O God, bring far horizons near,

complete the search begun,

so what we see and dream and what

we do, by grace, are one.

Announcements: (to be given by Patricia Brewerton)

Thanks to Stephanie for leading our service today. Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Holly and Andrew for lovely music today and to Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to our readers (Marianne and Brian?). Thanks to John for greeting and Pat (and Anna?) for making coffee. If you are here in-person please do stay on for refreshments. If you’re online do have a chat with Charlotte.

Once you’ve had a cuppa you can come back in here for yoga with Hannah at 12.30 – if you haven’t filled in a health questionnaire do have a chat with Hannah about that. 

Tonight at 7pm we have ‘Heart and Soul’ led by Mandy Reynolds – email her to sign up. Maud Robinson is covering Friday night. And this week’s theme is ‘Friendship’.

Sonya will be back with Nia Dance on Friday at 12.30pm.

Next Sunday our service will be led by Sarah Tinker and Heidi Ferid on ‘The Landscapes of Our Lives’. 

Looking further ahead there will be a Vigil for Palestine here at church on Saturday 18th October at 6pm. Please let me know if you’ll be coming along to that or if you’re able to support them on the day or help with refreshments etc.

Don’t forget we’ve re-started the Crafternoons and Jane would love it if she had your company for that afternoon hang-out – bring your own crafts – or rummage in our art boxes – we can provide colouring materials if you just want to do something simple.

This month the Better World Book Club are reading ‘Chasing the Scream’ by Johann Hari and we have a few copies of that to loan out if you want to come along.

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.  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: ‘Go Boldly’ by Jean Olson

May you be brave enough to expose

your aching woundedness

and reveal your vulnerability.

May you speak your deepest truths,

knowing that they will change as you do.

May you sing the music within you,

composing your own melody,

playing your song with all your heart.

May you draw, paint, sculpt, and sew,

showing the world your vision.

May you write letters, poetry, biography,

slogans, graffiti, the great novel,

laying bare your words to love and hate.

May you love even though your heart

breaks again and again.

And until the end of your days,

may your life be filled

with possibilities and courage.

Closing Music: Waltz and Polka by Gordon Jacob (played by Holly Redshaw and Andrew Robinson)

Rev. Stephanie Bisby

5th October 2025