Sunday Service, 25 January 2025
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall and Congregation Members
Musical Prelude: Mompou - Angelico, No.1 from Musica Callada (performed by George Ireland)
Opening Words: ‘We Pause This Hour’ by Bruce Southworth
We gather this hour to pause; to honour the spirit and to accept
ourselves as fragile humans, equally full of nobility and strength.
We gather, weary – perhaps – of life’s many trials,
yet cheered by infinite possibilities for love’s grace.
We meet with smiles and glad voices for old friends and new –
every stranger a gift of potential friendship and mutual consolation.
We rejoice in the keen mind and the warm heart.
We remember those whose opportunities and needs our society thwarts,
and we give thanks for the blessings that are ours, even in the midst of struggle.
We praise all who extend a hand in service and whose vision of justice commands action.
We pause; we gather; we meet; we rejoice; we remember; we give thanks; we praise;
We proclaim our community – as we gather this morning to worship together. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Bruce Southworth 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 us via Zoom, and anyone watching or listening 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 service is titled ‘This Too Shall Pass’ – a title borrowed from the well-known teaching story which we’ll be hearing later on – it’s a story which contains some wisdom about how we might face life’s many ups and downs with some sort of equanimity. I chose this theme because I’m really aware of how many of us are going through difficult stuff at the moment – I guess there’s never going to be a time where all of us are feeling hunky-dory – but we really do seem to have a lot of tough stuff going on. So I wanted us to take some time this morning to pool our wisdom about how we manage to stay afloat during such challenging times and find the strength and hope to go on. And so later in the service we’re going to hear some hopeful and encouraging stories from Alex, Pat, and David, about tough times they’ve been through, and how they came out the other side.
Chalice Lighting: ‘For Faith, Hope, and Love’ by Jane Blackall
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 this chalice as a reminder of the tradition that holds us,
and the values and aspirations we share as a community:
our commitment to the common good,
and our yearning for a better world that’s yet to be,
where all may know true freedom, justice, equality, and peace.
May this small flame be for us a sign of faith, hope, and love.
Hymn 191 (green): ‘To Worship Rightly’
Let’s sing together. Our first hymn this morning is number 191 in the green hymn book: ‘To Worship Rightly’. For those joining via zoom the words will be up on screen (as they will for all our hymns). Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and let’s sing up as best we can.
Now let us sing in loving celebration;
The holier worship, which our God may bless,
Restores the lost, binds up the spirit broken,
And feeds the widow and the parentless.
Fold to thy heart thy sister and thy brother;
Where pity dwells, the peace of God is there;
To worship rightly is to love each other;
Each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer.
Follow with reverent steps the great example
Of those whose holy work was doing good:
So shall the wide earth seem our daily temple,
Each loving life a psalm of gratitude.
Then shall all shackles fall; the stormy clangour
Of wild war-music o’er the earth shall cease;
Love shall tread out the baleful fire of anger,
And in its ashes plant the tree of peace.
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 briefly who or what you light your candle for. I’m going to ask you to come to the lectern to speak this time as I really want people to be able to hear you and I don’t want to keep nagging you about getting close to the handheld mic. And if you can’t get to the microphone give me a wave and I’ll bring a handheld mic 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 Lyn Cox
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on some words by Lyn Cox. 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 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)
This morning we give thanks for the gift of renewal.
We give thanks for the ability to begin again, to start over;
after each time of trial and loss, each season of struggle and sorrow;
in the midst of upheaval and the endless tests of our endurance.
Grant us the courage to continue on the journey,
the courage to act and speak for the well-being
of others and ourselves and the planet we share.
May we forgive ourselves and each other
when our courage and care falls short,
and may we resolve to try again.
Grant us hearts to love boldly,
to embody our faith and our values
in living words and deeds.
May our hearts open to embrace
humility, grace, and reconciliation.
Grant us the ability to learn and grow,
to let the Spirit of Love and Truth work
its transformation upon us and within us.
Grant us the spirit of radical hospitality,
the willingness to sustain a dwelling place
for the holy that resides in all being.
Grant us a sense of being at peace in the world,
even as we are in perpetual motion,
tossed and turned by life’s tempests.
Let us cultivate – together – the strength
to welcome every kind of gift life brings our way
and all manner of ways to be on the journey together. (pause)
In our company this morning, and every time we gather in community,
there will be those among our number who are suffering, in body, mind, and spirit;
and we know too well that there is much struggle, hardship, illness and injustice the world over.
Let us spend a moment directing prayers of loving-kindness for those who suffer this day. (pause)
In our company this morning, and every time we gather in community,
there will be those among our number whose hearts are full and overflowing;
uplifted by family and friends, inspired by nature and culture, engaged in meaningful work.
Let us spend a moment directing prayers of gratitude for all that is good in our lives. (pause)
In our company this morning, and every time we gather in community,
there will be those among our number who are just getting by as best they can:
stumbling through life’s endless ups and downs and seeking to discern the next step forward.
Let us spend a quiet moment asking for what we need to face all that life brings our way. (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 33 (green): ‘Do You Hear?’
Let’s sing again now – this one is an old favourite of mine – number 33 in your green books ‘Do You Hear?’ I think I will ask George to play it through as we haven’t sung it in quite a while. Number 33.
Do you hear, O my friend,
in the place where you stand,
Through the sky, through the land,
do you hear, do you hear,
In the heights, on the plain,
in the vale, on the main,
In the sun, in the rain,
do you hear, do you hear?
Through the roar, through the rush,
through the throng, through the crush,
Do you hear in the hush
of your soul, of your soul,
Hear the cry fear won’t still,
hear the heart’s call to will,
Hear a sigh’s startling trill,
in your soul, in your soul?
From the place where you stand,
to the outermost strand,
Do you hear, O my friend,
do you hear, do you hear,
All the dreams, all the dares,
all the sighs, all the prayers –
They are yours, mine, and theirs:
do you hear, do you hear?
Story: ‘This Too Shall Pass’ (told by Jane)
The title of this morning’s service comes from a teaching story that made a big impression on me when I first heard it, in this church, told by the then-minister Art Lester about 25 years ago. Such stories are very ‘sticky’, I find, they seem pretty simple but they contain nuggets of wisdom which get under our skin, in a way that makes them a bit more accessible to us when times are tough. This particular story turns up in various guises, as such stories often do, there’s a Jewish version which links it to King Solomon, but I’m going to share a Sufi version (I think it is of Persian origin).
A young dervish who had travelled long and hard through the desert finally came to the outskirts of a village where he hoped to find a place to rest. The dervish politely asked a villager where he might find food and lodging for the night. “Well,” said the man, scratching his head, “we don’t have such a place here, but I am sure the old man Shakir would be happy to provide for you tonight.” And the man gave directions to the old man’s cattle ranch. As it turned out, Shakir was a very hospitable and kind person, who insisted that the dervish stay in his house for a few days, and supplied him with plenty of food and water for his onward journey. On his way back to the desert, the dervish could not help puzzling over the meaning of Shakir’s words at the time of farewell. The dervish had said, “Thank God for your good fortune, that you are so well off.” But Shakir had just replied, “Ah, don’t be fooled by appearances, for this too shall pass.”
During his years on the Sufi path the dervish had come to understand that anything he heard or saw during his journey offered a lesson to be learned and was worthy of contemplation. In fact, that was the reason he had undertaken the journey in the first place—to learn. So he passed five more years of traveling to different lands, meeting new people, and learning from his experiences along the way.
One day, the dervish found himself returning to the same village at which he had stopped a few years before. He remembered the kindness of his friend Shakir and asked after him. A villager said, “Ah, he lives in the neighbouring village now, ten miles from here, and works for Haddad.” The dervish rushed toward the next village, and at Haddad’s marvellous home, he was greeted by Shakir, who looked much older now, he was living a hard life in poverty, and was dressed in rags. The dervish asked: “What happened to you?” Shakir replied that a flood had left him with no cattle and no ranch. So he and his family had become servants out of necessity. Still, Shakir was kind and friendly, and graciously took care of the dervish just as he had before. As he was leaving, the dervish said, “I am so sorry for what has happened to you and your family.” But Shakir just smiled and said “Oh, but remember, this too shall pass.”
The dervish travelled onward to India, and many years later, on returning home to Persia, he looked forward to visiting his old friend Shakir one more time… but instead he found a modest grave with the inscription, “This too shall pass.” He wept, and was filled with sadness that he was unable to see Shakir again. And as he thought of the inscription, he wondered: “Riches come and go, but how can a tomb change?” From that time on, the dervish made it a point of visiting the tomb of his friend every year. However, after some years, as the dervish was getting on in years himself, he returned to find the cemetery and the grave were gone, washed away by a flood. He was heartbroken that this last trace of his friend was swept away. But then he lifted his head to the sky and, as if discovering some greater meaning, he said, “This too shall pass.”
When the dervish had finally become too old to travel, he decided to settle down, in that very same village where he had first met Shakir. People came from all over to have the benefit of his wisdom. Eventually his fame spread to the king’s top advisor, who happened to be looking for someone with great wisdom. The fact was, the king desired a ring be made for him. The ring was to be a special one: it was to carry an inscription such that if the king was sad, he could look at the ring and it would make him happy, and if he was happy, it would make him sad. Many men and women came forward with suggestions for the ring, but the king liked none of them. So the advisor wrote to the dervish to ask for help. A few days later, an emerald ring was made and presented to the king. The king, who had been quite depressed for days, reluctantly put the ring on his finger. Then he read the short inscription carved delicately onto the band of the ring and contemplated it for a moment. He started to smile, and a few moments later, he even laughed. On the ring were inscribed the words: “This too shall pass.”
(pause). Some words of wisdom from the Sufi tradition.
ONLINE Reflection: ‘Getting Through Depression’ by Alex Brianson
I've suffered from depression for much of my life. It began in my early teens, and it's waxed and waned ever since. There have been grace periods of even fairly long duration. But there have also been suicidal intentions and periods of great despair.
I've tried everything to deal with it. Really everything. Exercise. Meds. Food supplements. Meditation. Rest. Change in life direction. Carrying on living to avoid wounding others. All of this has helped some of the time, and some of it has helped a lot, and a lot of the time. But none of it has been the solution with a capital S.
In my experience, medication helps, and there have been times I have got through only thanks to those good friends in pill form. But they can only do so much for you, those friends, and every time you titrate down or up, they have side effects that can be extremely unpleasant. I'm still on medication, but I think it's coming to the end of its usefulness, and I'm hoping to come off it later this year. It's been great scaffolding, but it's not been a cure.
So here's what I have found to be the most helpful path through the mire: hanging on until things shift, and therapy. I learned endurance very early on in my life, and although that was not entirely healthy, it's been an asset in terms of fighting off thoughts of death and keeping on through the long soul winters of my life. There's often been a good reason for my depression located in the world around me, and yes, when life gives you lemons you can make lemonade, but I made so much I got diabetes. Life can be a relentless series of wounding blows, and to be honest it's only when that began to change that my mental health began to improve.
Therapy has helped because it's shown me who I am, why I am this way, and how to deal with life in a way that is more conscious and less instinctive response. Alongside learning that I am autistic, which I did at the age of 48, this has been a real saga of discovery. It has helped me address traumas, and shift the balance in my psyche so that I am in a more robust condition. I understand both myself and the world in general much better, and that's been very, very useful. But there's a note of caution I have to sound here. This understanding has taken years of work, and finding the right therapists took time. You can take something from many forms of counselling, even the six sessions of CBT that the NHS can offer, but I have found that it's the excavation you do in psychodynamic therapy that really helps.
A therapist once asked me if when I couldn't find hope, could I find curiosity? Could I carry on going just to see if things turned out as badly as I feared and expected? It was a genius move, because at that point I had learned that my life very rarely goes as expected. It can go worse, and it can go better, but it's very rarely delivered what I thought likely. And on that insight I have hung my recovery.
Words for Meditation: ‘Life’s Ups and Downs’ by Susan Jeffers (adapted)
Thanks Alex. We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share a few words from Susan Jeffers, from her book ‘Embracing Uncertainty’, about facing life’s ups and downs The words will take us into a few minutes of shared silence which will end with the sound of a bell. And then we’ll hear some more music for continued reflection from George. 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 and steady yourself – maybe close your eyes. As we always say, the words are just an offering, feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
Susan Jeffers writes: It is important to focus on the reality of cycles.
Good follows bad and bad follows good. Life is a series of ups and downs.
It is important not to identify with the ups and downs of life;
rather we must learn how to step outside ourselves and just notice.
We must not be too attached to the good; we must not be too depressed by the bad.
The ups and downs are just part of the flow of life.
There is no use trying to change the order of the Universe ... it won't work.
Sorry about that! You can't get rid of the downs and you can't hold on to the ups.
It's much better to notice both with the understanding that "This too shall pass."
When things are wonderful ... this too shall pass.
When things are difficult ... this too shall pass.
It helps to watch what is happening in your life and consciously "notice" that it is all temporary.
I feel great today -- this too shall pass.
I feel horrible today -- this too shall pass.
The weather is great -- this too shall pass.
The weather is horrible -- this too shall pass.
So, beginning today, imprint the words, "This too shall pass," in your mind.
It is an important thought. And maybe even write it on a little card
and place it somewhere you can see it as a constant reminder.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: Franck - Tantum Ergo (performed by George Ireland)
Reflection: ‘Darkness’ by Pat Gregory
I was in my early twenties and life was good, I lived with a friend and my cat Arthur in a small studio in SE London, I was employed and although pretty poor I had enough, and I enjoyed my life.
Then one morning I woke up to find my world was devoid of any colour, everything was dark, there was no point to anything, and I saw no reason to get out of bed. I couldn’t go outside, and my body was so heavy that even moving around was a chore. I remember staying in my bed for days on end – I cried what seemed like buckets of tears. I didn’t want to see anyone and even my cat kept away from me. My friend Doug was amazing – he did all the shopping, cooking and tried to find ways to help me but I wanted none of it. Sometimes it got too much for him, and he had to stay away. I really didn’t care.
A month went by and there seemed to be no change, I didn’t leave my bed, and I felt completely stuck, Doug would bring me flowers, nice food, books and music. Then one day he gave me a magazine which had an article called “Crochet for Beginners”. It had an easy step-by-step guide, and I began to teach myself to crochet. At first, I used only black wool but over the weeks I started to use more colour. And somehow the light came back into my life through this simple act of using a hook and some wool. I crocheted myself out of depression. I started to go out and went back to work. I carried my hook and wool wherever I went, it was my security blanket! I made everyone at work a crocheted hat whether they wanted one or not.
Looking back, I see that crochet acted as a meditation for me and took me out of my self-obsession. It gave movement and it was playful – it really didn’t mean anything, but it was, for a while, everything. Of course, I am so full of gratitude to have had a friend who didn’t give up on me. When I later thanked him, he said he could see my light and he knew I would get through. What a lesson that is? Let us look for the light in everyone!
Now when the dark clouds appear I can say This Too Shall Pass – friendship has shown me that the light does shine again.
Reflection: ‘This Too Shall Pass’ by David Brewerton
I made Patricia laugh a few weeks back. We were talking about New Year, things we might need to change. I said I had two decisions to make, the first being whether or not I needed to make the second. For some reason this was hilarious.
Life changing events sometimes need big decisions, not always welcome. I would like to tell you about a decision I had to make over thirty years ago. Let’s get back to the beginning. I left school at sixteen and started work as a messenger boy in the City. Through a combination of good fortune, lucky breaks, hard work, determination and others’ faith in me I progressed from running errands to running the Business pages of the Times newspaper, working directly for Rupert Murdoch.
Along the way I had been the chief investment writer at the Daily Telegraph, had been part of the team of journalists that set up and launched the independent. I had my own slot in a Sunday afternoon TV show. and was often on the television or radio talking about business. It was a stella career for a cockney boy who hadn’t even been to university. But all the while I knew I didn’t really “belong”. I was waiting for the hand on my shoulder and the voice that would say, “what are you doing here? This job is not for the likes of you”. Imposter Syndrome.
It’s not irrational. I experienced it early on, the class barrier.
But each time I was able to move on, walk around it, until…
I had been recruited to the Times, by the editor. a tough down to earth Glaswegian, Charlie Wilson. Murdoch had hired him to move the paper to East London and then shake it out of the comfortable lethargy it had sunk into after its bitter battles with the print unions. My job was to shake up business news and bring back the advertising revenue that had been lost.
We did that, Charlie and me. I was at the centre of things, riding high, and I felt I was just one step away from becoming the next editor. I knew I could do it, because on the occasional Sunday I did get to edit the entire paper. Decide on which topics the Thunderer would pass judgement, which stories would be the headlines and so on.
Then Murdoch decided he wanted a more establishment figure, a recognised name, to carry the paper forward. Charlie was fired to make way for Simon (now Sir Simon) Jenkins.
Jenkins and I argued about almost everything, and I knew that, sooner or later, he would want me out. Meanwhile, Business Editor was as far as I was allowed to go. The Sunday editing shifts were stopped. Jobs like editor of The Times belonged to another class. Charlie had been the exception, but his job was done. It didn’t need doing again.
I realise that thwarted ambition, compared with the hardships others have needed to endure, probably seems remarkably small beer. But it was a massive blow to my self esteem and I took it hard. I can recall now walking with Patricia along a dangerous cliff-top on the Cherbourg peninsula, the day before I was a due to return to Wapping after a family holiday.
I poured it all out. Do I stay and wait to be fired? Or do I accept that I my career in journalism was over? Leave or stay? On that cliff top, in tears, I knew I had to leave.
I joined a small public relations company, watched and helped it to grow. And do you know what, I loved it.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘The Church Where Love Lives’
Thanks David and Pat. Let’s sing again. Our final hymn is on your hymnsheet, we’re still learning this one, so even though we only had it a fortnight ago we’re having it again in hope that we’ll get the hang of it soon. It’s a great expression of our aspirations: ‘The Church Where Love Lives’
The church where love lives is a safe place for all
Where we gather in wonder to remember God’s call,
To embody God’s vision of kindness and care
With each song that we sing, with each protest and prayer.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
The church where love lives draws the stranger inside,
Making neighbours of strangers, no neighbour denied,
Till there’s heaven on earth and God’s will has been done,
Till the whole of creation is restored to its home.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
The church where love lives is preparing a feast
For the pained and rejected, for the lost and the least,
For the deeply afraid, for the truly ashamed.
Come and sit at our table. Love has called you by name.
On this sacred foundation of faith and of trust
We are building a world that is gentle and just.
We rejoice and repent, offer praise and forgive
And we welcome all people to the church where love lives.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for tech-hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting. Thanks to Alex, Pat and David for their reflections. Thanks to George for lovely music today and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Patricia for greeting and David for doing the coffee. For those of you who are here in-person – please do stay for a cuppa and cake – we’ve got berry lime drizzle this week.
Tonight we have the Better World Book Club, it’s ‘How We Break’ by Vincent Deary, too late to read that one but if you are planning to be there and haven’t yet told me so let me know so I can give you the link. Next month we’re reading ‘Monsters’ by Claire Dederer – very timely – it’s about the problem of great art by bad people and how we should handle that ethically. We’ve got a few copies of that if you’d like to borrow one.
Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week we’re considering ‘Rest’ – let me know if you want to know more about that and to get the link.
Those of you who enjoyed our ‘Art Play Crafternoon’ last week will be pleased to know that we’re going to make that a regular thing on the third Sunday of each month so please save the dates.
Next Sunday we’ll be back here at 11am for a service on ‘Living in Hope’ with me and Patricia.
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. Or why not take home a copy of our new fancy newsletter?
The congregation very much has a life beyond Sunday mornings; we encourage you to keep in touch, look out for each other, and do what you can to nurture supportive connections.
Time for our closing words and closing music now.
Benediction: ‘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: Bach - Sarabande, No.3 from French Suite in G (performed by George Ireland)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall and Congregation Members
25th January 2025