The Age of Artifice?

Sunday Service, 14 June 2026

Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBGeX8P6PpI

Musical Prelude: Frank Bridge, Miniatures, H.87-89, II. Gavotte (performed by Kiana Umali Garvey, Abby Lorimier and George Ireland)      

Opening Words: ‘Be Still for a Moment’ adapted from Amy McKenzie Quinn and Elena Westbrook 

Welcome to this common, sacred space.

Common, because we are all welcome.

Sacred, because here we transform the ordinary

and attend to the profound.

We carry with us our regrets, doubts, fears, stories, laughter;

may they inspire our worship.

Above all, may we each meet what we need most to find,

On this day, in this common, sacred space.

In a world beset by troubles

that seem eternal and insoluble,

sometimes the only thing we can do

is be still for a moment

to remind ourselves what is real:

the sun that rose again this morning,

the dirt beneath our feet,

the air whispering in and out of our lungs.

So, this hour, let us be present in each moment as it unfolds.

Our simple attention is what makes these moments holy. (pause)

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

These words from Amy McKenzie Quinn and Elena Westbrook 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 the podcast.  For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Jane Blackall, and I’m minister with Kensington Unitarians.  

This morning’s service has the title ‘The Age of Artifice?’ (with a question mark at the end). Over the last few years, the rise of Artificial Intelligence (AI) has been rapid and all-encompassing. And for most of us it is hard to get a grip on the implications – practical, social, political, spiritual – of this development – for good or ill (and in the last few days I’ve been made aware that it’s an issue that divides opinion). More broadly we know we’ve been living through an era of ‘fake news’, and before that we had spin and propaganda, and access to AI (especially AI-generated images and videos) has made it much easier for people with malicious intent to mislead and confuse us.

So this morning we’ll reflect on how we can retain contact with truth and reality – in a climate of increasing fakery and artifice – how we can stay properly grounded in what’s real and humane.  And let’s consider how we humans might engage wisely with AI now that ‘the genie is out of the bottle’.  As Pope Leo XIV recently said, 'In the era of artificial intelligence, when human dignity is threatened by new forms of dehumanisation, ours is the pressing duty to remain profoundly human’. 

Chalice Lighting: ‘A Quest for Truth and Meaning’ by Christine Robinson (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 gather this hour as people of faith

with joys and sorrows, gifts and needs.

We light this little beacon of hope,

sign of our quest for truth and meaning,

in celebration of this precious life we share together.

Hymn 3 (green): ‘The Joy of Living’

Let us sing together now. Our first hymn is number 3 in the green book, ‘The Joy of Living’. For those joining on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and sing up!

We sing the joy of living,

We sing the mystery,

Of knowledge, lore and science,

Of truth that is to be;

Of searching, doubting, testing,

Of deeper insights gained,

Of freedom claimed and honoured,

Of minds that are unchained.

We sing the joy of living,

We sing of harmony,

Of texture, sounds and colours,

To touch, to hear, to see;

Of order, rhythm, meaning,

Of chaos and of strife,

Of richness of sensation,

Of the creating life.

We sing the joy of living,

We sing of ecstasy,

Of warmth, of love, of passion,

Of flights of fantasy.

We sing of joy of living,

The dear, the known, the strange,

The moving, pulsing, throbbing —

A universe of change.

Candles of Joy and Concern: 

Each week when we gather together, we share a simple ritual of candles of joy and concern, an opportunity to light a candle and share something that is in our heart with the community. So we’ve an opportunity now, for anyone who would like to do so, to light a candle and say a few words about what it represents. We’ll go to the people in the building first, then to Zoom.

So I invite some of you here in person to come and light a candle and then if you wish to tell us who or what you light your candle for – please keep it brief – be considerate of others. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak, as we want people to be able to hear you. 

(in person candles)

And if that’s everyone in the room we’ll go over to the people on Zoom next – you might like to switch to gallery view at this stage – just unmute yourselves when you are ready and speak out – and we should be able to hear you and see you up on the big screen here in the church.

(zoom candles)

And I’m going to light one more candle, as we often do, to represent all those joys and concerns that we hold in our hearts this day, but which we don’t feel able to speak out loud. (light candle)

Time of Prayer & Reflection: based on words by Susan Manker-Seale

Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. The prayer is based on words by Susan Manker-Seale. You might want to adjust your position, 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 – 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)

As we gather this morning,

in this sacred space we co-create,

we embody the yearning of all people

to connect with each other more deeply,

to hear each other more keenly,

to see each other’s joys and sorrows as our own,

and know that we are not alone.

Out of our yearning we have come

to this beloved religious community.

May we help each other to proclaim the possibilities we see,

to create the community we desire,

to worship what is worthy in our lives,

to teach the truth as we know it,

and to serve with justice in all the ways that we can,

to the end that our yearning is assuaged

and our lives fulfilled in one another. (pause)  

And let us take a few moments now to look inward, get in touch with what’s real,

what is going on beneath the surface of our lives this morning.

Let us notice what we’re carrying. What troubles us. What is bubbling up.

What questions or uncertainties we are faced with. What hopes and dreams we nurture.

And from that place of realness – silently, inwardly, ask for

what you most need – ask God, or cast it out into the Universe –

even if you’re the only one to hear your prayer – name what you need this day. (pause)

And let give thanks for what we already have. Look back on the week

and recall all those moments of kindness, comfort, pleasure, even joy.

Silently, inwardly, take the time to savour those gifts, and take in the good. (pause)

And let us turn outwards now, shifting our attention to the world around us,

starting with those dear ones closest to our heart, stretching ever outward,

and spreading all around this planet, holding all beings in the light of love. (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): ‘Call Me By My Name’

Let’s sing again now – as you might imagine it wasn’t too easy to find hymns that were directly on the theme of AI – so I’ve had to go a bit tangential and look for themes about authenticity/reality instead. On that basis, the second hymn is on your hymn sheet, and we don’t sing it very often so I’m going to ask George to play a verse through in full before we sing (please note that it has long instrumental bits between the verses and an extra line in the final verse): ‘Call Me By My Name’.

Call me by my name. Know me in my truth.

Trust the sacred flame that burns in me and you.

Listen to my song. I’m gentle and I’m strong,

With a love I can’t contain. Won’t you call me by my name?

Tell me who you are. Let your truth be known.

Cast away your fear for you are not alone.

Share your hopes and dreams. Together, we’ll be free

To rejoice with all our hearts. Won’t you tell me who you are?

As we come to learn the gifts we each can give,

We offer up in turn a better way to live.

The stories that we share will show us how to care.

You can help me do my part when you tell me who you are.

You can fill the world with grace when you call me by my name.

Reading: ‘The Pope’s Encyclical on AI’ by Nitish Pahwa (excerpts, adapted) (read by Antony)

Pope Leo XIV issued his first encyclical just a few weeks ago. If you’re not familiar with the notion of an encyclical, it’s a pastoral letter written by the Pope, typically providing moral and theological guidance to the faithful. The encyclical he has just issued in May, Magnifica Humanitas, is a 42,000-word tome focused on the rise of artificial intelligence.

We don’t tend to quote the Pope that often in Unitarian circles but he had some interesting things to say on the matter. Rather than sharing excerpts from the lengthy piece itself we’re going hear from a journalist who read and digested the encyclical, Nitish Pahwa, who writes on business and tech issues for Slate Magazine. Here’s what he had to say:

I read the Pope’s encyclical on A.I. I’m astounded by what he wrote. It’s an urgent warning—and a celebration of humanity and what we can do at our best. I find what Leo has accomplished to be something truly remarkable: it’s an affirmative vision for how humans should approach the A.I. future, one that takes seriously the very real harms of the tech while insisting throughout on the need to make it better, to actually fulfill the utopian promises promulgated by Silicon Valley. For all the explicit and widely shared concerns Leo names throughout, there is a through line of genuine love for humanity and what we can do at our best — including with the machines at our side.

Magnifica Humanitas does not shy away from spelling out the harms of A.I. (such as developing war weapons, destroying the natural environment, disrupting kids’ early development years) and the “dehumanizing” effects manifested along the supply chain, such as the unpaid child miners digging up needed metals and the underpaid content moderators helping train these systems from distant locations.

Pope Leo insists on the value of fulfilling human work that doesn’t just lead to productivity gains and remuneration, but also provides “context for expression, relationships and contributing to the community.” He agrees that tech should help to “relieve humans of arduous, repetitive or dangerous tasks” and “provide intelligent support,” but also warns of growing A.I.-induced inequality, which exacerbates poverty and forced migration. He urges that such tools be created with the well-being of workers in mind first. The principle here is A.I. as addition, not replacement.  History shows the advancement of tech alone will not automatically cause shared prosperity to blossom, and that humans of consciousness need to be present at the tiller, with grassroots organizations working in tandem with state actors. Leo points out that the private companies who’ve monopolized control over A.I. are given to “technocratic thinking” that “tends to amplify the power of those who already possess economic resources.”

Naturally, the tech-bro futurists who’ve long insisted that social justice, intellectual property, labour rights, and environmental considerations need be scrapped to scale up their fantastic visions will not love Magnifica Humanitas’ explicit appeals to social justice, diversity, and anti-colonial principles in the A.I. race. But the pope’s open spirit of dialogue suggests they will not be excluded from his table, whatever they make of him now. Instead of blanket-dismissing tech entrepreneurs, Pope Leo has sought a careful, studied, moral middle ground: one that encourages technological progress but upholds human dignity above all. It’s not a document made for our simplified, summary-laden times. When it feels like humans are being crowded out of the spaces we made, the Pope is here to remind us that we can still act to make good change and remind everyone that human life is essential for its own sake. We can all live and work together—or we can succumb to fatalism and a false sense of inevitability. The choice is everyone’s.

Words for Meditation: ‘Please Use AI’ by Jo Atkins-Potts

Thanks Antony. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness, I’m going to share a poem by Jo Atkins-Potts, which I chanced across just this week, and which is ironically titled ‘Please Use AI’. It brings into sharp focused some of the real-est moments of a human life and juxtaposes them with the artificial. After that, 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. 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 are just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.

‘Please Use AI’ by Jo Atkins-Potts

Please use AI

when your mother dies.

Ask it what grief feels like.

Let it explain bereavement

in twelve clear bullet points.

Do not spend years

finding her

in the supermarket

by the tomatoes she always bought,

in the smell of rain on warm pavement,

discovering new ways

to miss her.

Please use AI

the next time you fall in love.

Ask it how to know

whether someone is the one.

It will give you a faster answer

than watching a person become familiar,

learning how they take their tea,

which floorboards will wake them,

how their silence sounds

when something is wrong.

And please use AI

for your wedding vows,

your eulogies,

your apologies.

Why struggle

for the right words

when a machine can give you

beautiful ones?

Words untouched by shaking hands.

Words that have never sat beside

a hospital bed.

Words that have never known

the terrible privilege

of having something to lose.

Meanwhile

I will be over here

watching someone I love

fall asleep on the sofa,

the television talking to itself,

rain tapping the windows,

the dog twitching in her dreams,

wasting my life

on these small unremarkable moments

that become,

without asking permission,

the whole thing.

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

Interlude: George Frideric Handel, Violin Sonata in A major, HWV 361, Andante (performed by Kiana Umali Garvey, Abby Lorimier and George Ireland)     

Reading: ‘Instead of AI’ by James Crews (poem followed by the poet’s commentary) (read by Brian)

Let’s use our hands to do

real things—whisking eggs

for banana bread that rises

in its pan like a miracle,

the teeth of a serrated knife

cutting each perfect slice.

Let’s write our own sentences,

stringing together words

as they come, bead by bead,

to make a necklace that fits.

Let’s pause on the forest trail

when we come upon a flock

of finches gathered like

parishioners around a patch

of open ground, worshipping

seeds exposed after a season

spent smothered by ice.

Let’s watch when they fly up,

flapping all at once, with a

sudden flutter of wonder

no machine will ever know.

(pause)

James Crews comments: We live in a world where meals, groceries, anything we need, can be delivered to our doorstep with the tap of a few buttons. We can ask machines to write, read, and (most alarmingly) think for us. We live at a time when actual intelligence is seen not only as a threat but as an afterthought, even a weakness. We are being asked to embrace a life, made simpler and easier—we are so often promised these days—by the proliferation of AI, two letters we may be weary of hearing about.

I’ve heard from many friends and fellow artists over the past few years who say they are making a turn back to the tangible and actual in their lives, finding greater and more lasting pleasure—true joy—in doing real things for themselves and others, whether baking a loaf of banana bread or building a wooden bench by hand. The world being shaped for us, which we never asked for, has made us more susceptible to manipulation and control by outside forces, since this false reality leaves us lonelier and more depressed, longing for any scrap of connection, no matter how dissatisfying.

Yet perhaps the antidote is what we have possessed all along—an embrace of the innate, divine intelligence that lives inside each of us, that dwells beside us no matter what we do. If we can accept and access that intelligence, then when we feel the call to whisk those eggs for a new recipe, when we feel the drive to protest injustice, when we come upon that flock of finches in the forest and feel the flutter of wonder—we will receive the holiness of such moments of presence. We will know ourselves as holy as well, not needing some outer machine-intelligence to tell us how to live our days. It is a sacrament, and we are transfigured, each time we make something on our own—a poem, a painting, a garden, a struck-up conversation with a neighbour—that never existed before. AI is being hailed as a future-altering miracle, but these everyday creations and interactions are the true source of awe for us humans.

Hymn 156 (green): ‘The Harvest of Truth’

Time for another hymn now – it’s 156 in the green books – ‘The Harvest of Truth’. I love the words of this one (we had it at my induction service) but we don’t sing it often so let’s hear it first. 156.

O live each day and live it well -

All else is life but flung away:

Who lives a life of love can tell

Of true things truly done each day.  

Be what thou seemest live thy creed;

Hold up to earth the torch divine;

Be what thou prayest to be made;

The thirst for righteousness be thine.

Fill up each hour with what will last;

Use well the moments as they go;

Into life’s soil thy seed is cast —

Thy deeds into a harvest grow.

Sow truth, if thou the true wouldst reap;

Who sows the false shall reap the vain;

Erect and sound thy conscience keep,

From hollow words and deeds refrain.

Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure;

Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright;

Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor,

And find a harvest-home of light.

Mini-Reflection: ‘The Age of Artifice?’ by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

I feel some trepidation in setting out to speak on this subject! AI is a hot topic, in a developing area, which requires some degree of technical sophistication to grasp, and which people seem to have very strong and diverging opinions about! So I feel I’m stepping into a bit of a minefield here but I’ll give it my best shot… My one, flimsy, credential for speaking on such a topic is that I did take a module on AI and machine learning as part of my MSc in medical engineering down the road at Imperial – I even coded my own tiny little neural network! – but that was nearly 30 years ago. And the landscape has changed so much since then that it might as well have been 1000 years ago. (And I feel the need to say that though this was billed as a mini-reflection it’s turned into a maxi-reflection as it’s a big old subject with a lot of key points to mention)… But with all those caveats out of the way, let’s dive in.

On Friday night I went to a seminar on ‘The Spirituality of AI’ hosted by the London Jesuit Centre and one of the useful things I picked up there was a definition of artificial intelligence that was a bit broader than the one I went in with. One of the speakers, John-Clark Levin, stated that AI is any machine or a piece of software that performs functions that human intelligence would otherwise do. Historically, that includes things like calculators, where humans worked out the algorithm to do a particular task and then encoded it into a machine. But AI as we know it today is based on machine learning, and one key characteristic of this is that modern AI learns by itself, we don’t exactly instruct it; it finds patterns in data, in a way which is beyond our human ability to grasp, and functions like a ‘black box’. By this, I mean, we train AI on a bunch of inputs and it will give us an output that feels plausibly like the sort of thing human intelligence could have come up with, but we can’t reverse-engineer it to understand its reasoning, so we don’t know exactly how it got there.

A couple of years ago, in 2024, our Unitarian General Assembly passed a resolution on the subject of AI. It was put forward by Andi Phillips, minister with Upper Chapel in the centre of Sheffield, who’s been one of our strongest voices on this matter, and she has an academic background in engineering and maths so she knows what she’s talking about, she speaks the language. I’m going to share an abridged version of that resolution so you know what the official ‘party line’ is (in as much as Unitarians ever recognise such a thing). The resolution says: ‘This General Assembly of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches recognises the rapidly growing significance of automation, algorithms, and artificial intelligence, and encourages a balanced response mindful of both substantial benefits and threats. In particular it calls upon individuals and congregations to learn about AI, algorithms and their societal impact (whether good or bad), encourages Unitarian bodies to host and/or facilitate wider societal and philosophical conversations; and recognises that injustices, often affecting the already disadvantaged, are occurring through automation, and calls upon Unitarians to challenge such injustices.’

So, that was the first collective Unitarian pronouncement on AI, from a few years ago. Personally, I think the tone of that resolution is about right – it reflects my own mixed feelings with its talk of ‘benefits and threats’ and ‘impacts (good or bad)’ – the tone is not that of the Luddite or the dinosaur – it’s not a knee-jerk anti-AI reflex in opposition to the new – but it is a call to be appropriately cautious and critical.  

Let’s start with some of the positives: I think it’s fairly self-evident that AI has tremendous potential to do good. There are undoubtedly many tasks that it can be useful for – and maybe in a way that could be positively transformative for humanity – this technology could be harnessed for the good. It can be used to synthesise complex information and make it more digestible; I’ve certainly heard people speak convincingly of AI as being a tool for accessibility.

Because of my background in medical imaging I immediately think of the ways in which it could be used to assist with diagnosis, drug development, treatment planning and so on. There are applications of AI in materials science which apparently open up possibilities for more efficient sources of green energy. It seems likely that there are many scientific and medical conundrums, where the obstacle to finding a solution is the sheer complexity and scale of the data, and in these cases AI could provide the support to enable significant breakthroughs. There are many ways in which AI could be used to support human flourishing.

But. Is that how we are collectively actually using AI right now? It seems – and I am trying not to get on my Victor Meldrew type soapbox about it – but it does seem that AI is being pushed onto us willy-nilly by tech companies and incorporated by default into all sorts of settings where it doesn’t seem necessary and may not be beneficial. It’s seamlessly integrated into Google searches, social media feeds, and any number of apps that many of us use all the time for work and play.  And it’s becoming very apparent that AI isn’t a value-neutral technology – there’s so much scope for biases to be built in – and at the same time, the advent of Large Language Models like ChatGPT means that interacting with an AI these days feels much like talking to a human. This makes it too easy to be lulled into a false sense of security, to be charmed, to assume benevolence. Indeed, one of the recognised issues of AI is the problem of ‘sycophancy’. Even if there’s not someone of ill intent behind the AI (and that’s a big if), even if nobody is consciously trying to build in bias and use it for misinformation or propaganda, it seems that – by default – AI wants to tell us what we want to hear. And that in itself can be a dangerous thing. It can reinforce and radicalise people’s worldviews in an increasingly extreme way. And there’s even a known phenomenon of ‘AI delusion’ where people gradually come to trust what the (sycophantic) AI tells them in preference to the more complex, diverse, nuanced, or challenging voices they might hear in the world outside. There seem to be quite a number of cases where this has led people to lose touch with reality and behave in disturbing ways which cause great harm to themselves or others.

There are some less-serious ways in which this plays out too. If you use Google to search the internet, you’ll be aware that these days you are by default presented with an ‘AI overview’ before your old-fashioned search results, and if you look carefully, at the bottom of this answer to your query, there is a bit in very small print which says ‘AI responses might include mistakes’... But it can be a bit more than a mistake. This week I was listening to my favourite podcast, Three Bean Salad, and one of the hosts, Ben Partridge, described something that had happened to him on a recent holiday in Italy. As he travelled around, each day, he asked AI what events were going on locally. When he got to Rome, AI told him that there was a brass band competition going on in a public square, which is just exactly the sort of thing he would like, so he walked 40 minutes to get to the piazza where this brass band event was meant to be happening, only to find… there was no such competition. It was a complete fabrication. Fictitious. AI just made it up. Told him what he wanted to hear. And in such a confident and articulate way that he wouldn’t think to question it. Now that’s not a very consequential mistake. But what about when people ask AI for medical advice? Or use AI as a stand-in for a therapist? Then such ‘mistakes’ – where the AI just makes something up, confidently says what it thinks you want to hear, regardless of whether it has any basis in reality – they could be disastrous.

There are of course many ethical objections to AI too – I suspect most of us are pretty familiar with the sort of thing I’m talking about – the first ethical problem I became aware of was when the firms developing various AI models were instructing them to scrape (i.e. steal) various creative works – art, music, writing – and indeed our own personal data and even our likenesses – in order to use them to generate ‘new’ works. And then people use these ‘free’ AI-generated models to churn out images or words instead of paying creative workers, so they are exploited twice over. And this is a repeated pattern of getting humans to train AI models and then sacking them and replacing them with AI. Putting huge swathes of people out of work. And accelerating the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of a few.

Then there’s the environmental cost – the power and water needed for these enormous data centres – which we might think is worth it if the AI is being used for scientific or medical purposes that benefit humanity – but is it worth it in order for a billion people to generate an AI avatar of themselves as an action figure to share on Facebook (or whatever the latest meme doing the rounds might be)?

And what about the use of AI to create realistic photos and videos which are used maliciously to spread misinformation? We are accustomed to relying on such footage as ‘proof’ on which we base our opinions about what’s going on in the world. But it is getting increasingly difficult to tell what’s real and what’s made up. We’ve got a harder job on our hands to be discerning about what we see – can we believe our own eyes? – and that can drive us to be distrustful across the board. I suspect that such a climate, where people can’t reliably tell what is real, helps to drive people towards conspiracy theories and creates a distorted worldview.

All this may seem relentlessly negative. But it’s important to be clear-eyed about what we’re facing and the impact it is already having on human flourishing. The genie is out of the bottle now – there’s no going back – so how do we respond?

Unusually, both the resolution from the Unitarian GA, and the Pope’s encyclical, seem to be coming from a similar place. They say: we have to recognise that AI, like any human invention, can be used for good or ill. We can’t really escape it, or the effects of it, as it is being woven into all aspects of our lives. So let’s try and engage critically with it, harness it, shape it for the good, or at the very least learn what it is we’re dealing with, so that we can mitigate some of its harmful effects. It’s a question of discernment: when and how is it wise to make use of AI? I’ve been reminded of the concept of ‘epistemic hygiene’ – very useful in this day and age – the idea that we should take responsibility for protecting ourselves from misinformation and bias – being alert to the source of any information we’re presented with and not taking it at face value – and using our critical faculties (rather than being seduced by the sycophantic voice which mirrors our desires).

The spiritual imperative is for us to live our life, to pay attention, and reconnect with what’s real, rather than escape reality or fall into delusion. To use our unique gifts in the service of love, justice, and peace – as we so often say – rather than delegating the tasks of life to AI – it is for us to wrestle with these creative tasks, which help give us meaning and purpose, and grow and deepen our souls, over the course of a lifetime. We are called to express what’s authentically within us, as a basis on which to connect meaningfully with others. I came across a poem by Joseph Fasano, ‘For a Student who Used AI to Write a Paper’ which includes these lines: ‘I hear you. I know this life is hard now. I know your days are precious on this earth. But what are you trying to be free of? The living? The miraculous task of it?’

As our opening words today reminded us, ‘sometimes the only thing we can do is be still for a moment to remind ourselves what is real’. Perhaps that’s the thing we should hold onto, and keep bringing ourselves back to, in this ‘age of artifice’. Like James Crews said, let’s write our own sentences, make cake, walk in the woods, have wild encounters. Or as Jo Atkins-Potts hinted, in our poem for meditation, let’s embrace the slow and messy human processes of love and loss, and be fully present to each other. May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.

Hymn 209 (green): ‘A World Transfigured’

Time for one last hymn now, and it’s aa stirring one to end on. Hymn 209, ‘A World Transfigured’.

Wonders still the world shall witness

Never known in days of old,

Never dreamed by ancient sages,

Howsoever free and bold.

Sons and daughters shall inherit

Wondrous arts to us unknown,

When the dawn of peace its splendour

Over all the world has thrown.  

They shall rule with wingèd freedom

Worlds of health and human good,

Worlds of commerce, worlds of science,

All made one and understood.

They shall know a world transfigured,

Which our eyes but dimly see;

They shall make its towns and woodlands

Beautiful from sea to sea.

For a spirit then shall move them

We but vaguely apprehend —

Aims magnificent and holy,

Making joy and labour friend.

Then shall bloom in song and fragrance

Harmony of thought and deed,

Fruits of peace and love and justice —

Where today we plant the seed.

Announcements:

Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Lochlann for co-hosting. Thanks to Kiana, Abby and George for lovely music and Edwin for supporting our singing. Thanks to Antony and Brian for reading. Thanks to Hannah for greeting and Marianne for making coffee. If you’re online stay for a chat with Lochlann if you can. If you’re in-person please do stay for tea and cake (it’s Biscoff Cake or Raspberry Madeira this week which we haven’t had for quite a while).

At 12.30 today we have yoga with Hannah – if you haven’t joined before have a word with her – and from 1pm we have the crafternoon in the hall which is a nice social space where you can work on your own craft projects or we can get the art boxes out for some colouring or painting.

Tonight and Friday we’ve got our online ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week it’s on the theme of ‘The Body’ – sign up for that with me. And we’ve also got an in-person Heart and Soul on Wednesday if enough people are coming for it to be viable so please let me know ASAP if you’re planning to come along to that as it’s in the balance at present.

On Thursday our ‘How to be a Unitarian’ course continues. We had 36 people from about 20 congregations with us for the first one last week including lots of new faces so that was exciting! And if you’re regretting your life choices and want to join us at this point we can squeeze you in.

This month in the Better World Book Club we’re reading ‘Just About Coping’, that’s about mental health, written by London psychologist Natalie Cawley, let me know if you would like to come.

Vita is going to be offering a Sunday afternoon workshop on Indian Head Massage on 5th July.

Next Sunday our service is titled ‘Keep Breathing’. And that will be followed by our summer solstice labyrinth mini-retreat led by me and Sarah Tinker. Please sign up for that with me ASAP.

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 the summer newsletter is out (if you know anyone who might be interested in what we do then take a copy to give them for free). 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 closing music now.

Benediction: based on words by Cliff Reed

Our time of worship draws to a close.

May what we have found here

of truth and beauty, insight and challenge,

love and comfort, remain with us as we go our separate ways.

And may the blessing of this time together

light our way through the week ahead,

calling from us the strength and courage

we need, to meet the days to come. Amen.

Closing Music: George Frideric Handel, Violin Sonata in A major, HWV 361, Allegro (performed by Kiana Umali Garvey, Abby Lorimier and George Ireland)     

Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall

14th June 2026