Something to Say

7 days ago
23 min read

Sunday Service, 24 May 2026

Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBP4doeFYFs

Musical Prelude: Jigs: The Coming of Spring, The Wandering Minstrel, Lark in the Morning (performed by Tara McCarthy, Caitlin Mannion, and Kathy Walton)

Responsive Opening Words: ‘We Speak the Language of Love’ by Erika A. Hewitt (adapted)

Our opening words this morning have a simple refrain which I invite you to join in speaking; at the end of each verse you might join in the words ‘We speak the language of love’.

We come together this morning from

many different experiences and backgrounds.

All of us share this in common: we speak the language of love.

In the moments before worship begins,

and again when we return to the service of life,

we greet one another with kind words;

we chat about the days behind us and days to come,

and we speak the language of love.

We lift our voices in song — not to sing perfectly

or even in tune — but to hear and feel our true voices

form a life-giving sound; and we speak the language of love.

We form a web of compassionate listening when individuals among us,

embodying vulnerability, name the fears that grip their hearts,

the joys that buoy their spirits. We speak the language of love.

At times, our voices clash. We disagree.

Tension sometimes enters our voices as we

make room for our differing perspectives. Through it all,

it's our intention that… we speak the language of love.

In this congregation, we welcome a multiplicity of voices,

and invite them to speak out loud. We prophesy,

summoning the age when justice and peace

will be evident all around us, and

we speak the language of love.

Let us worship together, making room for one another

as whole beings, tender hearts, hungry spirits, and curious minds.

With our actions and with our words, let us

...speak the language of love. (pause)

Words of Welcome and Introduction:

These words from Erika Hewitt welcome all who have gathered this morning for our Sunday service. Welcome to those who have gathered in-person at Essex Church, to all who are joining via Zoom, and anyone tuning in at a later date via YouTube or listening to the podcast stream. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.

This morning our service is tangentially inspired by the fact that, in the Christian tradition, today is Pentecost Sunday. In the story of Pentecost, from the book of Acts, it is said that the Holy Spirit comes down on Jesus’ followers, and enables them to speak such that they can be understood by all kinds of people. We’ll hear the actual story later on. I’ve called our service ‘Something to Say’. We’ll be reflecting on the importance of finding our own voice – using it to speak up and speak out – and discerning how, where, and when to do so in order that we might be heard and understood.

Chalice Lighting: ‘Our Hope and Our Passion’ by Pat Uribe-Lichty (adapted)

Let’s light our chalice flame now, as we do each week. It’s a moment for us to stop and take a breath, settle ourselves down, put aside any preoccupations we came in carrying. This simple ritual connects us in solidarity with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and reminds us of the proud and historic progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part.

(light chalice)

We light our chalice this morning,

this symbol of our Unitarian tradition,

knowing that our hope and our passion

are needed to change the world.

We bring different gifts to the work,

but we come together in one faith:

that what we say and what we do makes a difference,

both out there in the world, and right here, within ourselves.

Hymn 16 (purple): ‘Captive Voices Cry for Freedom’

Let us sing together now. Our first hymn is number 16 in your purple books: ‘Captive Voices Cry for Freedom’. For those joining on zoom the words will be up on screen. We haven’t got Benjie to help us with singing today – and it’s not one we sing often – so I’ll ask Andrew to play it through before we sing. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s give it our best. Hymn number 16.

Captive voices cry for freedom,

arms pull bars that will not bend;

liberty - our priceless treasure -

we will cherish and defend.

Free to doubt and free to question,

free to seek and free to find;

let us celebrate our freedom,

free in spirit, free in mind.

Free our minds from narrow thinking,

free our hearts from prejudice;

fill our minds with hope and reason,

fill our hearts with joy and peace.

Free from bigotry and anger,

free from ignorance and fear;

humankind heed freedom's challenge,

speak, O Lord, and make us hear.

Free all troubled minds from torment,

bring them comfort and repose;

grant us also such a freedom

when our lives draw to their close.

Free from fear of separation,

unenlightened creeds proclaim

universal destination –

God of love, from whom we came.

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: by Jane Blackall

Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. 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 speak plainly, and from the heart, in prayer;

tuning into our true feelings this morning, as best we can,

and laying them honestly before the One Who Listens with Endless Compassion.

There is no need for us to hold back, be restrained, or put on a brave face, before God.

Some of us are feeling weary right now, worn down and depleted by world events,

or the trials of our personal lives; perhaps we’ve been carrying too much for too long;

some of us face the sickness and suffering of our loved ones or ourselves; some face money worries;

some are lonely and troubled; some overwhelmed and confused; some frustrated and angry;

we are doing our best to keep on top of all the challenges that we ordinarily face in the course of life.

Still we are mindful of all those who are struggling in even tougher circumstances the world over.

And so, in a quiet moment now, let us bring to mind those situations, people, and places

that are weighing on our hearts right now, and inwardly pray for the help we long for. (pause)

Despite everything, we can still find moments to treasure in our days, things to be grateful for:

for friends and family, reaching out to lift our spirits, and insistently remind us we are loved;

for neighbours and strangers, looking out for one another, and weaving the fabric of community;

for the courageous campaigners and activists who act and speak out to bring about a better world;

for learning and for laughter; for the natural beauty that surrounds us in this spring season;

and for the new possibilities emerging, the new ways of seeing and being, the hope of change.

And, in another quiet moment, let us bring to mind those people, places, and experiences

that have brought light to our lives this week, and inwardly give thanks for these gifts. (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.

Reading: ‘The Coming of the Holy Spirit’ (Acts 2: 1-13, Good News Translation) (David)

When the day of Pentecost came, all the believers were gathered together in one place. Suddenly there was a noise from the sky which sounded like a strong wind blowing, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. Then they saw what looked like tongues of fire which spread out and touched each person there. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to talk in other languages, as the Spirit enabled them to speak.

There were Jews living in Jerusalem, religious people who had come from every country in the world. When they heard this noise, a large crowd gathered. They were all excited, because all of them heard the believers talking in their own languages. In amazement and wonder they exclaimed, “These people who are talking like this are Galileans! How is it, then, that all of us hear them speaking in our own native languages?

We are from Parthia, Media, and Elam; from Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia; from Pontus and Asia, from Phrygia and Pamphylia, from Egypt and the regions of Libya near Cyrene. Some of us are from Rome, both Jews and Gentiles converted to Judaism, and some of us are from Crete and Arabia—yet all of us hear them speaking in our own languages about the great things that God has done!” Amazed and confused, they kept asking each other, “What does this mean?”

But others made fun of the believers, saying, “These people are drunk!”

Hymn (on sheet): ‘The Simplest of Words’

Let’s sing again now – our second hymn is on your hymn sheet – ‘The Simplest of Words’. It’s another new one but to a reasonably familiar tune. Still, I’ll ask Andrew to play it through in full.

The simplest of words have eternal importance,

a 'yes' or a 'no' last for more than a day.

Be careful in talking and choose your words wisely,

then think before speaking of what you will say.

How often we utter our words without wisdom.

Perhaps we should ask 'Is it true?' 'Is it kind?'

And what motivates us, should we be repeating

the words that we heard, or the thoughts that we find?

In love and compassion, then, let us consider

the ways we affirm and the ways we deride

the sisters and brothers, the neighbours God brought us,

and then in God's harmony stand side by side.

Reading: ‘The Power of Speaking Up’ by Vianne Valiente (excerpts, adapted)

Have you ever felt the power of your own voice? It can be both beautiful and terrifying, really, once you realize how much influence one’s words can have over another. I, for one, had difficulty in speaking my own mind in countless situations. And more often than not, I still do. What if I say something wrong or stupid? What if someone thinks I’m unreasonable and disagrees with what I say? These feelings of fear and anxiety over what other people think constantly cloud my mind — and in my perspective, staying silent always seemed like the wiser choice, the easier option. However, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this present time, there is power in being able to speak up — even when it’s difficult. Here’s why:

Speak up because it allows you to grow as an individual. It takes a lot to speak with vulnerability. Sometimes, we fear judgement and disapproval from others, and as a result, we tweak our own truths and expressions in order to feel connected and a sense of belonging. However, being able to be true to yourself, and stand up for what you believe in, is a liberating expression that shows you are your own person. You have your own views on certain matters in life – these build your own character as an individual – and sharing these views with the world will not only allow you to embrace authenticity but also allows you to attract like-minded people as well.

Speak up because your voice can speak for the voiceless. We live in a world wherein a lot of acts of social injustice are being committed every single day. Racism, oppression, and disregard for democracy and human rights are some of the many issues we currently face. Most of these issues are considered sensitive and often they are uncomfortable to talk about. However, we must challenge ourselves to speak up against injustice and initiate conversations that could inform and educate others. That said, being able to use our voice for good goes hand in hand with the crucial responsibility to be informed and educated by others as well. Whether in person or on social media, we have various platforms to voice our own opinions. By speaking out, we amplify awareness of such issues, and we can lift up the voices of those who are oppressed, so they might be heard.

If you don’t speak, you won’t be heard. No one has exactly the same thoughts, ideas, and passions as you, which is why your words ultimately have power and why your voice matters. Speak up.

Words for Meditation: ‘Blessing That Undoes Us’ by Jan Richardson

We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share a poem which brings us back to the story of Pentecost – it’s a blessing really – by Jan Richardson. To set it up, she quotes one of her seminary professors, Dr. Bill Mallard, who said the miracle of Pentecost was not a miracle of speaking; it was a miracle of hearing and understanding. 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 our singers. 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.

‘Blessing That Undoes Us’ by Jan Richardson

On the day

when you are wearing

your certainty

like a cloak

and your sureness

goes before you

like a shield

or like a sword,

may the sound

of God’s name

spill from your lips

as you have never

heard it before.

May your knowing

be undone.

May mystery

confound your

understanding.

May the Divine

rain down

in strange syllables

yet with

an ancient familiarity,

a knowing borne

in the blood,

the ear,

the tongue,

bringing the clarity

that comes

not in stone

or in steel

but in fire,

in flame.

May there come

one searing word:

enough to bare you

to the bone,

enough to set

your heart ablaze,

enough to make you

whole again.

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

Interlude: Hornpipes: Rights of Man / Rights of Women (performed by Tara McCarthy, Caitlin Mannion, and Kathy Walton)

Reading: ‘Transformations of Silence into Language and Action’ by Audre Lorde (excerpts, adapted) (Jasmine)

I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood. That the speaking profits me, beyond any other effect.

In becoming aware of my mortality, and of what I wished and wanted for my life, however short it might be, priorities and omissions became strongly etched in a merciless light, and what I most regretted were my silences. Of what had I ever been afraid? To question or to speak as I believed could have meant pain, or death. But we all hurt in so many different ways, all the time, and pain will either change or end. Death, on the other hand, is the final silence.

My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you. But for every real word spoken, for every attempt I had ever made to speak those truths which I am still seeking, I had made contact with others while we examined the words to fit a world in which we all believed, bridging our differences.

What are the words you do not yet have? What do you need to say? Of course I am afraid, because the transformation of silence into language and action is an act of self-revelation, that always seems fraught with danger. But my daughter, when I told her of our topic and my difficulty with it, said, “Tell them how you’re never really a whole person if you remain silent, because there’s always that one little piece inside you that wants to be spoken out, and if you keep ignoring it, it gets madder and madder and hotter and hotter, and if you don’t speak it out one day it will just up and punch you in the mouth from the inside.”

In the cause of silence, each of us draws the face of her own fear — fear of contempt, of censure, of some judgment, or recognition, of challenge, of annihilation. But most of all, I think, we fear the visibility without which we cannot truly live. And that visibility which makes us most vulnerable is that which also is the source of our greatest strength. Because the machine will try to grind you into dust anyway, whether or not we speak. We can sit in our corners mute forever while our sisters and our selves are wasted, while our children are distorted and destroyed, while our earth is poisoned; we can sit in our safe corners mute as bottles, and we will still be no less afraid.

And we can learn to speak when we are afraid.

We have been socialized to respect fear more than our own needs for language and definition, and while we wait in silence for that final luxury of fearlessness, the weight of that silence will choke us. The fact that we are here and that I speak these words is an attempt to break that silence and bridge some of those differences between us, for it is not difference which immobilizes us, but silence. And there are so many silences to be broken.

Hymn 146 (purple): ‘Speaking Truth in Love’

Time for a bonus hymn now, number 146 in the purple books, and it’s another new one! Hopefully some of you will have listened to the recording I put in the Friday email: ‘Speaking Truth in Love’. Let’s listen to the tune first and then do our best. Hymn 146.

Speaking truth in love, we gather

to embrace the unity

of earth's living systems, whirling

towards God's perfect liberty;

reason guided, conscience lighted,

tempered with humility.

Speaking, one unto another,

that which honours highest worth,

and which for ourselves and others

nurtures common life from birth;

just, sustaining, fair society

through the length and breadth of earth.

Speaking peace across this planet

where all living things depend,

each on each, as with our neighbours,

their diversity transcend.

Honour prophets, honour Jesus,

those who welcome God as friend.

Reflection: ‘Something to Say’

I’m not sure how many Unitarian churches will be marking Pentecost Sunday today – but it’s always been a story that has spoken to me – though I tend to focus on different aspects of it than are emphasised in more traditional interpretations. Many years ago, I read a sermon by the UU minister Robert Hardies, who makes that case that Pentecost is ‘the Creation Myth of Unitarianism’ because it describes ‘a diverse group of people, speaking about God in different languages’ who ‘come together with a… faith that though we speak many tongues, we will all be understood [and] we will all understand… [so] the Spirit is found in translation.’ That take really stuck with me, so I keep coming back to the story, though I want to take a different angle today, and use the story as a jumping-off point to talk about speaking up and speaking out.

The context of that passage we heard earlier, from the book of Acts (the Acts of the Apostles), is that Jesus had died, been resurrected, and then ascended into heaven. His followers, left to their own devices, were asking ‘what now?’ They were still living in a hostile environment, an occupied territory, under the Romans, and wishing their lives were better, the world was otherwise. Wishing there would be justice and peace. They got together to pray, and support one another, and make decisions about what to do next, now their leader was gone, now that it was up to them to act in the world.

And when they gather, the Spirit comes upon them, like great winds and fiery flames. Some dramatic power seizes them, and enables them to speak, with passion. And, crucially, it enables them to be heard. To be understood by all kinds of people. The apostles speak up and speak out with such zeal that bystanders think they must be drunk (even though it’s only nine in the morning as Peter points out a few verses later). This transformative moment sets them off on a journey of sharing their Good News. They go around sharing teaching, and prayers, and meals, living in close fellowship and (notably) sharing their wealth and resources in common to meet everybody’s needs.

Imagine being in that state – fired up and empowered by the Spirit – with a sense of purpose and clarity about your ‘Good News’ – in the face of dreadful circumstances. After a devastating loss, and in the midst of terrible, oppressive, political conditions.

It seems to me that these people were, by definition, followers: focused on Jesus, reliant on his guidance. They were not expecting to be left in charge, required to lead, and speak out! I’m guessing that most of them wouldn’t have felt up to the task (and I know that feeling). But as the old saying goes, ‘If not me, who? If not now, when?’

So how might this story speak to us in the here and now, as individuals, and collectively as Unitarians? One question I find myself asking is this: what is our this-worldly ‘Good News’? Have we got ‘Something to Say’? Something that speaks to the troubled world we find ourselves in? Something important that the Spirit is calling us to embody and express? When I asked myself that question (today) the words that came to me were: ‘It doesn’t have to be like this; there is a better way for us to live together on this planet.’ If I’ve got something to say, something I keep returning to, that’s probably the heart of it.

You might think ‘Is that it?!’ Or ‘that’s OK as far as it goes…’ Of course, that short statement needs a lot of unpacking! It’s a principle that plays out in every aspect of our individual and collective lives and it must be translated into thousands of choices that we make each day. We still need to work out what it looks like in practice. But the core of the message, as see it, is this: we must not submit to the oppressive and unjust forces that are crushing our humanity and ruining our planet. Destruction and cruelty is not inevitable; there is another, better, way to live, and we can discern that way together. In these times, I think that’s Good News we need to keep speaking out loud.

I wonder what your particular message to the world might be? Your ‘Good News’? Something that will help to counter the voices of division and derision all around us. You’ve got ‘something to say’, I’m sure of it. Some unique message for the world. And what about us as Unitarians? What are we called to say, collectively, to the world? I put a quote from UU minister Krista Taves on the front of today’s order of service and I want to share a slightly longer version now. She says: ‘It is time for us to be clear about what we stand for, because if we don’t, others will. If we continue to be quiet, we will be branded the religion that stands for nothing, where you can believe anything you want. We do stand for something. We stand for freedom, equality, and compassion. Unitarians have something to say and something to do. The time for silence is over.’

Taves makes a key point – there are plenty of loud voices out there spreading ideas which make the world worse for us all – and we can’t afford to sit on the sidelines, quietly disapproving, but letting those destructive messages go unchallenged. We must not let those who shout the loudest drown out the more compassionate voices. If we want to see a better world we must be courageous and speak our truth. All of us.

Another UU, religious educator Janeene Grohsmeyer, said this (and this quote comes from a piece that was directed at children and young people, so she really gets to the point, her language is pleasingly direct): ‘We believe every person should stand up and speak out for what they think is right and true. We believe everyone should have a say about matters that concern them. And no one should be put in jail for speaking out.’ Those final words might strike us particularly sharply right now, when people are being locked up in this country for speaking out in support of Palestine, or against fossil fuels.

As our readings from Audre Lorde and Vianne Valiente acknowledged, we might be too scared to speak up – we might fear making a fool of ourselves – we might fear being misunderstood, judged, or rejected by our peers – or dismissed and discredited (just like the apostles who were accused of being drunk) – we might simply fear being visible. But Lorde, having had a brush with mortality, shares the insight that pain and death ultimately come to us all, ‘our silence will not protect us’, so we must break the silence. We must face our fear and speak anyway, to connect, and to bridge across differences.

Donna Schaper, a UCC minister, makes a similar point in her book ‘Sacred Speech’, she writes of something that is often asked in the aftermath of terrible events: ‘“Why didn’t anybody say anything?” It’s a question we hear much too often. There are risks involved in “saying something”. Often “nobody said anything” because nobody was secure enough to take a risk. They – and we – thought that fear should prevail. Of course, when fear prevails, trouble multiplies. There are alternatives – and one of them is learning to speak the truth in love. Many of us think that if we “say something,” there will be retribution. We will find ourselves in more trouble. But we let fear rule us and end up in the very trouble we were trying to avoid. We internalise the oppression we fear may come from the outside.’ Words from Donna Schaper.

So what does it look like for us to ‘say something’? We don’t have to use a megaphone, address a demonstration or a rally, or even stand up here and preach from a pulpit. There are other ways – possibly more effective ways – for most of us to use our voice. Perhaps don’t get drawn into ‘bad faith’ debates on the internet if you can help it! We need to be aware that much of the media (not just social media) is a hostile environment which is engineered to waste people’s time and energy – to distort and demoralise – to reward ‘hot takes’, controversy, conflict, and rage. This tends to have the effect of causing thoughtful and sensitive people to simply withdraw and it drives nuanced speech out of public life. Contrast such hostile environments to the counter-cultural spaces we try to create here at Essex Church, where we take care with our speaking and listening, and try to give people enough time and space to think carefully about what they want to say.

Let’s cultivate more spaces where we speak positively about the things we care about, the values that guide us, and the vision of a better world that we want to help create. We have got something to say – and each one of us can speak up – not in shouting matches, but in conversation, with friends, family, acquaintances, strangers – sharing our message of freedom, equality, and compassion – and spreading the ‘Good News’. We never know what impact our words will have or what we might ultimately influence. Perhaps when we dare to speak in service of the Good, we will know that the Spirit is with us, and we will be heard and understood, like the apostles all those centuries ago.

And I’ll close with one last bracing quote – a call-to-action – from social activist Maggie Kuhn who charges us to speak with boldness and courage. She said this: ‘Leave safety behind. Put your body on the line. Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind – even if your voice shakes. When you least expect it, someone may actually listen to what you have to say.’ May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.

Hymn 36 (purple): ‘For Everyone Born’

Time for one last hymn now, it’s number 36 in your purple books, ‘For Everyone Born’.

For everyone born, a place at the table,

for everyone born, clean water and bread,

a shelter, a space, a safe place for growing,

for everyone born, a star overhead.