Sunday Service, 31 December 2023
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: The Inchworm – Frank Loesser (played by Holly Redshaw & Andrew Robinson)
Opening Words: ‘For a New Year’ by Amanda Poppei (adapted)
My friends, we have almost arrived: we are on the brink of 2024.
We are approaching the boundary of time, into the next year,
with all its resolutions and plans and schedules ahead of us.
Let us pause, for just this moment, before we move boldly onward.
Let us pause to deepen our awareness and appreciation of those around us,
to sense their presence with us this evening; to know their presence in our lives.
Let us pause to consider the wintery natural world; the trees,
their branches stripped bare, their elegant architecture on display.
Let us pause to feel the spirit of life and love that ties us to each other,
that winds its way through our very bones and settles in our hearts.
Before we move forward, armed with resolutions that may well be
forgotten all too soon in the day-to-day of living,
let us notice what it is that remains every year, every day.
What exists beyond schedules and months, beyond time.
That deeper reality which welcomes us to life,
not just at the start of the year, but every day. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These opening words welcome all who have gathered this morning, for our Sunday service. Welcome to those of you who have gathered in-person at Essex Church and also to all who are joining us via Zoom from far and wide. For anyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Jane Blackall, and I’m Minister with Kensington Unitarians. It’s good to be here, together, at the turn of the year.
This morning’s service has the title ‘Retreat: A Pause with a Purpose’. We held a mini-retreat online yesterday, the first of a year-long series of online and in-person mini-retreats, in fact – these retreats are intended to be spaces for us to step back from the endless hurly-burly of everyday life – time set aside for a sacred pause. So today we’ll be exploring the practice and purpose of retreat – the varied forms it can take – and why it might be a good idea to intentionally carve out such spaces in our lives.
Let’s take a moment before we go any further to get settled, to arrive, to catch up with ourselves and prepare our hearts to worship. We make this hour sacred with our presence and intention. So let’s take a conscious breath or two, and do whatever we need to do, to ground ourselves in the here and now.
Chalice Lighting: ‘Let the Chalice Connect Us’ by Catherine Callahan (adapted)
Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. This simple ritual connects us in solidarity with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proud and historic progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part.
(light chalice)
As the chalice is lit let us settle, together,
into the sacred space we have co-created.
Let the cares of the day fall away, for a while,
and know that here is a place for quiet reflection,
for a pause in our lives, for breathing into our true selves.
Let what is said and felt here add richness to our lives
and call us back to living by the values we share.
We are stronger together, held in community.
We share the experience of being human.
Let the symbol of the chalice connect us,
to each other and to our common purpose,
so we may carry its light and warmth into the world.
Hymn 21 (purple): ‘Come and Find the Quiet Centre’
Let’s sing together now. Our first hymn is number 21 in your purple books, ‘Come and Find the Quiet Centre’. For those joining via Zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer. Sing up as best you can!
Come and find the quiet centre
in the crowded life we lead,
find the room for hope to enter,
find the space where we are freed:
clear the chaos and the clutter,
clear our eyes, that we can see
all the things that really matter,
be at peace, and simply be.
Silence is a friend who claims us,
cools the heat and slows the pace;
God it is who speaks and names us,
knows our being, touches base,
making space within our thinking,
lifting shades to show the sun,
raising courage when we’re shrinking,
finding scope for faith begun.
In the Spirit let us travel,
open to each other’s pain;
let our lives and fears unravel,
celebrate the space we gain:
there’s a place for deepest dreaming,
there’s a time for heart to care;
in the Spirit’s lively scheming
there is always room to spare.
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. This time we’re going to go to the people in the building first, and take all of those in one go, and then I’ll call on the people on Zoom to come forward.
So I invite some of you here in person to come and light a candle and then if you wish to tell us briefly who or what you light your candle for. Please do get up close to the microphone as that will help everyone hear (including the people at home). You can take the microphone out of the stand if it’s not at a good height and have it microphone pointing right at your mouth. And if you can’t get to the microphone give me a wave and I’ll bring it over to you. Thank you.
(in person candles)
And if that’s everyone in the room we’ll go over to the people on Zoom next – you might like to switch to gallery view at this stage – just unmute yourselves when you are ready and speak out – and we should be able to hear you and see you up on the big screen here in the church.
(zoom candles)
And I’m going to light one more candle, as we often do, to represent all those joys and concerns that we hold in our hearts this day, but which we don’t feel able to speak out loud. (light candle)
Time of Prayer & Reflection: based on words by Miklós Székely (6 min)
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on some words by Miklós Székely (mik-lowsh say-kye). You might first want to adjust your position for comfort, close your eyes, or soften your gaze. There might be a posture that helps you feel more prayerful. Whatever works for you. Do whatever you need to do to get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together – to be fully present here and now, in this sacred time and space – with ourselves, with each other, and with that which is both within us and beyond us. (pause)
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, in whom we live and move and have our being,
we turn our full attention to you, the light within and without,
as we tune in to the depths of this life, and the greater wisdom
to which – and through which – we are all intimately connected.
Be with us now as we allow ourselves to drop into the
silence and stillness at the very centre of our being. (pause)
And be with us each new day as we wake.
Let us know the comfort of your presence
and the revitalising power of your calling.
Whatever we have to face, be it joy or sorrow,
give us strength to carry through the new day.
Give us to know that when we arise in the morning
we must give thanks for the morning light,
for life and strength, for we are still here.
We must give thanks for the gifts of living;
our food and our friends and so many small joys,
which might go unappreciated in the struggle of our days.
Give us hope – in doing your will – in aligning ourselves
with the promptings of peace, justice, and love.
May the warmth of the fellowship we share here
stay with us through this coming week and all it brings.
May we draw strength from the faith we hold and this
beloved community we are an indispensable part of.
May we show our faith by extending our compassion and care
to those we find challenging and those we struggle to understand.
May we find strength in humility, courage in adversity,
joy in diversity, and a true sense of purpose in our prayers.
And so, in the coming week, may our ears and eyes be open to
tidings of joy and gladness, to hints of new possibility.
Spirit of Life, God of All Love, bless and prosper the work of our hands,
for our life, and for the larger life, as you would see it,
the realm of love that is yet to come. (pause)
In a few moments of shared stillness now, let us call to mind those people and situations who
are on our hearts this morning, thinking of all those issues that concern us close to home, and
those troubled places the world over, and let us hold them gently in loving-kindness. (pause)
And let us hold ourselves in loving-kindness too. Each of us carries our own private burdens.
Life is tough for so many right now; we are all too aware of life’s struggles and hardships.
So let us rest in self-compassion now as we ask silently for what we need this day. (pause)
And let us take a moment to reflect on the week just gone in a spirit of gratitude; let us notice
and give thanks for all those blessings, large or small, that have helped to lift our spirits. Maybe we can prepare our hearts to recognise and receive life’s goodness in the week ahead. (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): ‘A Dream of Widening Love’
Let’s sing together again now. Our next hymn is on your hymn sheet: ‘A Dream of Widening Love’. The words will be up on screen as usual. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.
We rest awhile in quietness,
The world not to forget,
But rather shape the silence
And words and thoughts we’ve met
To nobler ways of living,
To hope-filled truth, above
Our narrow selves, to seek one
Great dream of widening love.
We share a world where sorrow
And poverty and greed
Live side by side with privilege
Of wealth beyond true need;
Yet though we cannot alter
All ways of humankind,
We ask a strength within us
To right the wrongs we find.
We know that strength is weakened
By narrow truths and fears,
That still we claim true knowledge,
Deny the changing years:
Yet here, within the silence,
We question what we know,
That through more honest persons
All humankind may grow.
To find Eternal Meaning
Deep in each passing hour,
To seek beyond the confines
Of our small powers, one Power.
Strength deep within our being,
Arise as hope and will:
Come, silent living Spirit,
With peace our spirits fill.
In-Person Reading: ‘The Recollected Heart: A Monastic Retreat’ by Philip Zaleski (excerpts, adapted) (Antony)
Retreat – this need to be with myself for a time, to make a little world within the world where I could be safe, and where I could think – is a leitmotif of my life. We all enter the world after a good retreat, nine months in our mother’s womb, in the cushioned serenity of the amniotic ocean, where the miraculous transformation from one level of being to another takes place, and a clump of cells becomes a bawling baby. A comparable transformation, it struck me, is what we adults seek when we make for the hills. We seek rebirth, in things large and small. We long to be refreshed, reseeded, reinspired, to be “renewed in the spirit” as St Paul puts it so stirringly in his letter to the Ephesians.
Certain things always happen on retreat (if one is properly prepared). Time slows down, space dilates. Objects attain a starkness of outline and brilliancy of colour that they rarely possess in ordinary life. Things become transparent, and their essential being shines through. When I chew a raspberry, its flavour explodes in my mouth. The whole fruit rushes forth to meet me: the tiny hairs stubbling the skin, the tart juice, the rough globular joy of its raspberriness, like a red sun come down to earth.
I, too, change while on retreat. As the world comes to me, I go forth to greet it, gladly. I slow down, take my time with things, enter into each activity with all my being.
Away from the world’s ceaseless din, one hears whispers from another realm, faint but compelling. Honed senses, vitality, other external changes – as valuable as they may be – only hint at the real transformation to be found. New possibilities beckon, fresh ways of seeing, doing, and being, priceless gifts at once familiar and strange. One is perspective; another is prayer.
We all know what perspective means (but how rarely we attain it): the ability to see a situation objectively, as someone else might see it. Its importance cannot be overstated. On retreat we see with new eyes, we think with new minds. Even more important, however, is prayer. Each time we pray, it is like coming up to another level of being, like swimming from stygian depths to the sunlit surface of a pool, where we float for a while in the presence of God.
Retreat is neither whim nor luxury nor self-indulgence, but a rock-bottom staple of a healthy life. We need retreat as surely as we need oxygen. While any given retreat may start out as a joyride – a few days away from spouse, kids, or job – it always winds up as a pilgrimage. We start to look or what really counts.
Retreat, then, is life stripped bare, boiled to the bones, pared to first and final things. In the Christian tradition, such uncloaking of self and senses plays an indispensable role in spiritual growth. God calls us, always and everywhere, our task is to find conditions that allow us to hear and respond to the divine invitation. Breaking from habit, filtering out the noise of the world, seeking a place apart.
By going on retreat, we give ourselves the opportunity – without, one hopes, too severe a bump – to dismount, to turn around, and see our life afresh. At its very best, this vision brings with it joy, energy, and a sense of purpose that revitalises us and, inevitably, those around us. It may even change the world.
Meditation: ‘Clearing’ by Martha Postlethwaite
Thanks Antony. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. I’m going to share a very short poem, ‘Clearing’ by Martha Postlethwaite, to lead into our meditative time. And I think I’ll read it twice through as it’s often hard to absorb poetry at first encounter. I think it resonates with our theme today. This will take us into 3 minutes of silence which will end with the sound of a bell. Then we’ll hear some music from Holly & Andrew. So let’s each do what we need to do to get comfortable – adjust your position if you need to – put your feet flat on the floor to ground yourself – close your eyes. As we always say, the words are an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
and wait there
patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself to this world
so worthy of rescue.
(repeat)
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Y Blodyn Gwyn (Dainty Snowdrop) – E. J. Hughes (played by Holly Redshaw & Andrew Robinson)
In-Person Reading: ‘What is a Retreat?’ by Trevor Miller (adapted) – Sonya
In its simplest form ‘Retreat’, means ‘to withdraw, to drawback.’ Throughout the ages, the Christian tradition has understood Retreat to be an important part of spiritual formation. That is, time consciously set aside for God, for a change of focus, for a deliberate act of stepping outside of normal routine by withdrawing (but not running away) from the noise and pressures; leaving behind the immediate and insistent claims of our social, domestic and workaday responsibilities in order to be in a quiet place where all our senses are open and ready to listen to God. Evelyn Underhill spoke of this as ‘loitering with intent.’
The goal of our retreat is to be as fully present as we can be to God, ourselves, and the moment – not elsewhere – in ‘keeping company with God’ we take the opportunity to re-collect, re-member, re-examine that which is important and central – so like ‘humpty-dumpty’, we can be ‘put back together again’.
It is a recognition of the need to be with myself for a time to think, pray and reflect on ‘who I am, what I am, where I am’ in relation to God, self, others, world. People go on retreat to seek God through time apart which is why it’s important to provide a context and framework for retreat – solitude, stillness, time for prayer and reflection, time to stop, and time to talk and share – things that are not always possible in the demands of normal everyday life. On retreat, we begin to take stock of our lives.
Retreat is a journey to the centre of the spiritual world of our own inner life and, as such, we need to beware and be aware that retreat is not always a nice place to be. To stop, and to withdraw from the pace of life, allows those things we suppress to come to the surface. We can see, with this understanding, that retreat is not an escape from reality but a very real engagement with reality and often about facing the truth about one’s self. The purpose of retreat is to dispel illusion, set aside distraction, and begin to penetrate the superficiality that deadens sensitivity to God.
Retreat gives us fresh ways of seeing and opens new possibilities. Even though we usually have to go back into the very same situations, the same circumstances, the same roles, responsibilities and relationships that we left behind, we do so having changed inside. Renewed perspective brings us to a place where true priorities are reordered, a sense of direction is renewed, and a right kind of action is resolved.
Mini-Reflection: ‘Retreat: A Pause with a Purpose’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
At the end of another year, I thought it would be good for us to reflect on the theme of ‘retreat’, for a couple of reasons. In part it’s because we kicked off our new programme of mini-retreats this weekend, with a New Year’s mini-retreat yesterday afternoon, and we’re planning to hold these mini-retreats every other month this year (if you’ll permit me to include a plug here, the next one will be on the first weekend of March when we’ll focus on ‘The Stories of Our Lives’).
Another reason for today’s focus on retreat, though, was a sense that the turn of the year is often a good time for taking stock – taking a pause – in this slightly peculiar post-Christmas week, where time loses all meaning, and we don’t necessarily know what day it is. Whether or not you’re one for making new year’s resolutions, this is a time when many of us look back at the year just gone, and set our intentions, make plans, for the year to come. We take time for some sort of reflective pause.
And I suspect that quite a few of us really need to take that time to press pause and take stock. Many of us have day-to-day responsibilities – whether that’s a ‘day job’, or work within the home, volunteering commitments, or the practical and emotional load of caring for others (and ourselves) – many of us are in some sense ‘always on’. There are always so many plates to be spun, people and things clamouring for our attention, we can find ourselves playing whack-a-mole with all the pressing issues that need to be dealt with. We might find ourselves running on autopilot in order to make it through the day, just putting one foot after the next to keep on keeping on, and it can be really hard to intentionally say ‘STOP!’ and step off that treadmill (while the to-do list is, inevitably, incomplete). It can feel impossible to let go of responsibilities – or at least it never seems the right time – maybe we are worried about getting further behind and never catching up again – or fearful of letting others down. Some of us only stop when or mind or body cries ‘NO MORE’ and we burn out or fall into a slump.
It takes a conscious – and somewhat counter-cultural – effort to stop, to unplug, to turn away from the habits and demands of our everyday life and put something else at the centre of our attention.
And to some degree we are already doing that by coming here for an hour or so on Sunday mornings – well done, gold star, you made it! – even setting this much time aside on a regular basis is a great start. As I already mentioned, a few of us spent our Saturday afternoon on a mini-retreat yesterday – and I know some of us have experience of attending residential retreats down the years – several of you have spoken of precious times spent at the Othona Community, or the Amaravati Buddhist monastery, with Quakers at Woodbrooke, or of course our own beloved Nightingale Centre in Great Hucklow.
When we think of the spiritual practice of retreat, perhaps we most often imagine going away for a few days, ideally to somewhere tranquil and beautiful, so that we are physically removed from our everyday surroundings, and thus from all reminders of our responsibilities, troubles, and distractions. Such retreats can take many forms – we might be in solitude or in company – in silence or in deep conversation – more active or more contemplative – with a leader, or spiritual director, or self-guided.
Roger Housden has this to say on the matter: ‘A contemporary retreat may consist of anything from an arduous spiritual discipline to an art class or a hike through wild and sacred terrain. Whichever you choose, the broad common purpose remains the same: to return the individual to themselves through the cultivation of silence and awareness…. Whichever form or tradition you choose, the retreat will be largely determined by your own motivation and intention. You will get out of it what you put in. In fact, you will even get more, because the retreat will magnify your intention.’
Words from Roger Housden. We need to note of caution though – in recent years there’s been a certain amount of commercial appropriation of the language of ‘retreat’ – not everything that describes itself as a retreat has this higher spiritual intent. And Ruth Haley Barton has something to say on this matter, she says: ‘The problem with trying to talk about retreat these days is that the word itself has been severely compromised, both in the secular culture, and in the religious subculture. In business circles, a (so-called) retreat is often a long meeting from which you cannot go home… Typically, we work harder on “retreat” than in our normal working days, and of we come home exhausted. The same is true in church culture. We might be accustomed to… retreats that include… a carefully orchestrated programme… While such events are wonderful opportunities for building community and creating space for focused teaching and interaction… they can also be stimulating to the extent that no-one leaves rested or in touch with their own souls – at least not in the way Jesus encouraged his disciples to “come away with me and rest a while”.’
Words from Ruth Haley Barton. So retreat is not just ‘switching off’ or ‘taking time out’ – important as those things are – there’s a real need for regular (very regular) time set aside for proper rest and reconnection (something like a weekly sabbath practice perhaps, but that’s a topic for another day). The practice of spiritual retreat has got this extra dimension to it – an intentionality – that’s why I gave today’s service that sub-title ‘A Pause with a Purpose’. If you’re God-minded, if God-language makes sense to you, then perhaps it makes most sense to conceive of retreat as ‘spending time with God’. If God-language doesn’t speak to you, you could perhaps think of spiritual retreat as a time of intentional re-centring, re-orienting, re-membering what really matters, and re-setting your course in life. You might have noticed a lot of ‘RE-‘ words cropped up in our RE-adings… Philip Zaleski spoke of being ‘re-freshed, re-seeded, re-inspired, re-newed’. Trevor Mitchell suggested we should re-collect and re-examine what is most important to us, what we want to be at the centre of our lives. Retreat is for re-flecting about what’s on track, and what isn’t, and getting back in touch with your purpose. It’s a time to ask ourselves ‘who, what, and where I am in relation to God, self, others, and the world.’
On this, Joan Chittister speaks of the great value of ‘cultivation of a reflective soul and a disciplined mind that goes regularly into “retreat”—into that space where we look, first of all, at what we set out to be – and then look consciously at what we are now doing to get there.’ She reminds us that retreat isn’t self-indulgent navel-gazing but part of a healthy life of service: a space for transformation, which equips us to fulfil our purpose, and changes us so that we might play our part in changing the world.
And what happens when it is time to go home? Retreat is necessarily a limited time of withdrawal and at some point we need to re-enter the fray and face the everyday life we temporarily left behind. Margaret Silf has described this sometimes jarring transition: ‘The experience of retreat was an invitation to wholeness. It was easy in the seclusion of the retreat setting to become more aware of what helps to make us whole. When we go home, it can feel as though any trace of that wholeness has fragmented again, leaving us struggling to keep all the bits and pieces of our lives together.’ And Silf suggests trying to make micro-moments of reconnection part of your daily life once the retreat is over – making at least a little space for time in nature, time with art, music, literature, or prayerful journalling – perhaps with a focus on ‘analogue activities’ which get us away from screens for a bit.
So I want to leave you with some words of encouragement to make the practice of retreat a part of your life – encouragement to look for opportunities to create ‘a pause with a purpose’ – whether that’s going away to a beautiful retreat centre for a few days, or joining an online mini-retreat for a few hours, or making space for tiny creative moments of retreat here and there. And I’ll end with some words from Joan Chittister which spell out exactly why it is so vital to do so:
‘Retreat times remind us always to make the space to begin—again—and in the midst of the cloying demands of work and family, of money-making worries and the stressors of social systems, to fix the eye of the heart on the really important things of life… there must be regular times set aside to go down into these inner recesses of the soul once more, alone and centred, to take another look, a new kind of look, at ourselves… Retreat, reflection, Sabbath, and soul-space are of the essence of the monastic spirit—not for our sake alone, but for the sake of those who depend on us to make the promise of creation new again.’
May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.
Hymn 208 (purple): ‘When Our Heart is in a Holy Place’
Time for our last hymn, number 208 in your purple books, ‘When Our Heart is in a Holy Place’. Please sing up as best you can for our closing hymn.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we trust the wisdom in each of us,
ev’ry colour, ev’ry creed and kind,
and we see our faces in each other’s eyes,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we tell our story from deep inside,
and we listen with a loving mind,
and we hear our voice in each other’s words,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When we share the silence of sacred space,
and the God of our heart stirs within,
and we feel the power of each other’s faith,
then our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place,
when our heart is in a holy place,
we are blessed with love and amazing grace,
when our heart is in a holy place.
When our heart is in a holy place.
Announcements:
Thanks to Jeannene for tech-hosting. Thanks to Charlotte for welcoming everyone online. Thanks to Antony and Sonya for reading. Thanks to Holly and Andrew for our music today and to Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks Liz for doing coffee and Patricia for greeting. For those of you who are in-person – please do stay for a cuppa and cake after the service – pear and ginger cake – served in the hall next door. If you’re joining on zoom please do hang on after for a chat with Charlotte.
We have various small group activities during the week. Heart and Soul, our contemplative spiritual gathering, takes place twice a week online. It’s a great way to get to know people more deeply. Let me know if you want to sign up for tonight or Friday. The theme is ‘About Time’. Sonya is back with her Nia dance classes on Friday lunchtime from 12.30pm. And our Community Singing group will be back the following Wednesday, 10th January, that’s been brilliant so far, do come along, no particular musical ability required.
Rather excitingly we’ve got the Induction Service coming up in less than a month now, on the 27th January, and we think we’ve got about 60 people joining in-person and another 20 online. We could really do with some help with hosting on that day – a few greeters, a few doing tea – if you are willing to give us some hands-on help that day can you let me or Liz or Patricia know and we’ll organise a little meeting to share out the tasks and make a plan of action soon-ish.
You may know that we were due to have an in-person mini-retreat today – we’ve called that off at the last minute because sign-ups were too low and I know that’s disappointing for the few of you who were hoping to participate – we’re going to carry on scheduling these mini-retreats both in-person and online and the next one will be on the first weekend in March. I just want to reiterate that if you want these in-person events to go ahead please do sign up for them ahead of time; I want them to happen, but we need to know in advance that we’ve got enough participants for them to be viable, and if sign-ups remain low then at some point we’ll put our energy elsewhere.
Next Sunday we’ll be back here at 11am when Sarah will lead our service on the theme of ‘Epiphany’.
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. Please do sign up for the mailing list if you haven’t already. 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.
I think that’s everything. Just time for our closing words and closing music now.
Benediction: ‘The Light Shines On’ by Jane Blackall
We are about to extinguish our chalice flame –
but its light will shine on – burning within each
and every one of us as faith, and hope, and love.
So in the days to come may we always
be guided by the light of this inner beacon –
reminding us of the 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: Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen from The Magic Flute – W. A. Mozart (played by Holly Redshaw & Andrew Robinson)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
31st December 2023