Water Finds a Way
Updated: 7 days ago
Sunday Service, 13 September 2026
Led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
Musical Prelude: Gavotte by E. Grieg (performed by Sydney Mariano, Abby Lorimier, Jack Campbell)
Opening Words: ‘Prayer for Ingathering’ by Eric Cherry (adapted)
Guided by Love, secured by Hope,
and made courageous by Faith,
We gather together once again:
Both Learning and Teaching,
Welcoming the Injured and the Healing,
Ever Justice-Seeking,
We bless this church with our Love.
With Pilgrims and Seekers,
Young Visionaries and Cherished Elders,
Guided by Ancestors and by Leaders,
We bless this church with our Hope.
Praying and Resolving,
Trusting and Involving,
Some Settled, some Evolving,
We bless this church with our Faith.
Let us receive our Ingathering as a gift.
May it inspire renewed commitment to our
great covenant of Love, Hope, and Faith.
May our eyes be opened to opportunities for
ministry within, throughout, and beyond.
And may the blessings we come to know through
that vision be a blessing to the world. (pause)
Words of Welcome and Introduction:
These words from Eric Cherry 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 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.
Today’s service is our annual Gathering of the Waters – once a year we regather to participate in this ritual of connectedness and interdependence – this symbolic affirmation of our church community.
This year I’ve given this service the title ‘Water Finds a Way’. The next hour will have a contemplative, impressionistic, feel as we draw on the wisdom of water, as revealed by poets and artists. The words on our order of service, from Taoist author Deng Ming-Dao, set the scene for our reflections: ‘Water always finds its way. It seeps through fissures in the rock and replenishes the water table. How does it do this? It flows through openings. How should you make your way in life? Find the openings.’
Chalice Lighting: ‘Our Unity and Connection’ by Katie Romano Griffin
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)
May the flame of this chalice, the symbol of our faith,
connect us to all who have come before us,
all who are with us in body and spirit,
and all who are yet to come into being.
May it serve as a reminder of our unity and connection across all time and space.
Hymn 147 (purple): ‘Spirit of Earth, Root, Stone and Tree’
Our first hymn this morning is number 147 in your purple books, ‘Spirit of Earth, Root, Stone and Tree’. For those on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer.
Spirit of earth, root, stone and tree,
water of life, flowing in me,
keeping me stable, nourishing me,
O fill me with living energy!
Spirit of nature, healing and free,
spirit of love, expanding in me,
spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,
inspire me with living energy!
Spirit of love, softly draw near,
open my heart, lessen my fear,
sing of compassion, help me to hear,
O fill me with loving energy!
Spirit of nature, healing and free,
spirit of love, expanding in me,
spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,
inspire me with living energy!
Spirit of life, you are my song,
sing in my soul, all my life long,
gladden and guide me, keep me from wrong,
O fill me with sacred energy!
Spirit of nature, healing and free,
spirit of love, expanding in me,
spirit of life, breathe deeply in me,
inspire me with living energy!
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 Becky Edmiston-Lange
Let’s take those joys and concerns into an extended time of prayer. This prayer is based on some words by Becky Edmiston-Lange. 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)
Mysterious force giving shape to life,
miraculous source and river of being,
help us to know who we are, to see our place
in the history of earth and in the family of things;
Help us to see that we are part of all that ever was –
a unique expression of the unfolding universe.
In our veins courses the water of seas;
born of this planet, waves of a cosmic ocean;
we are not separate from nature, we are nature;
we live by the sun; we move by the stars…
we eat from the earth; we drink from the rain.
Help us know who we are and fill us with such love
and gratitude for this awesome gift we call living,
that we might claim our inheritance and live out our calling
to bless the world and each other with our care. (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.
Reading: ‘Water Always Finds a Way’ by The Arctic Wanderer (excerpt, adapted) (read by Jasmine)
This reading is an excerpt from a Swedish photographer and anthropologist, Martina H, who is known as The Arctic Wanderer. She writes:
Walking across the tundra in the Swedish Lapland, my boots sinking into moss the colour of rusted copper, I reach the banks of Torneälven, a river that runs the way rivers are meant to run: untamed.
As a free force of nature, the river follows its own rhythm. It spends more than half of the year in frozen stillness until spring, when the ice cracks open, sheets breaking loose and tumbling downstream. The whole valley comes alive. And the summer currents sprawl wide, braiding through gravel and meadow, shifting their course as if they refuse to be remembered the same way twice. There is no infrastructure to stop it. No turbines to still its flow. The salmon still climb, the reindeer still ford, and the water still finds its own path.
Most of us no longer know what that looks like. We inherit rivers that no longer belong to themselves — they’re carved into dams, rerouted for hydropower, privatized for irrigation, or bottled and sold back to us in plastic. Eighty-seven percent of the world’s wetlands are gone. Everywhere we speed water up, push it out, block it in, as if flow itself were an inconvenience rather than respecting its essential nature.
But control is an illusion. No matter how many dams, pipes, or canals we build, water always finds a way. When we try to force it against its nature, it responds — sometimes gradually, sometimes suddenly — with floods, erosion, or drought. Even if we put pipes around it or feed it to nuclear plants and data centres. Water has agency. It cuts through mountains, tears down cities, erases coastlines, and just as easily gives life back to soil, marsh, and seed. The harder we push against it, the harder it pushes back.
This is the paradox of our age: we are drowning in water and dying of thirst.
A single cup of coffee drinks 140 litres of water before it reaches your lips. A pair of jeans swallows 10,000. Agriculture guzzles 70% of global freshwater. And still, we plant almonds in deserts, ship avocados across oceans, and sell water back to ourselves in plastic bottles. So when we ask where the water went, the answer is simple: we wore it, ate it, streamed it, shipped it, and essentially, rushed it through a disposable lifestyle.
Yes, water always finds a way. And we cannot ever out-engineer it. Every time we try, it will inevitably remind us who’s in charge. So the only path left is collaboration. That means space for rivers to breathe, for floodplains to flood, for wetlands and mangroves to buffer the storms. It means letting beavers stitch wetlands back into landscapes rather than pouring concrete. It means pink dolphins in the Amazon instead of bulldozers chewing riverbanks. Water wants time. It wants space. It wants its old rhythms back. And every strategy of collaboration depends on the same simple truth: let the water be.
Water, like life itself, always finds a way forward, no matter what stands in its path.
Hymn 160 (purple): ‘The Highest Goodness’
Let’s sing again – our second hymn is number 160 in the purple books, ‘The Highest Goodness Is Like Water’ – the words are drawn from the Taoist tradition for which the way of water is a key symbol. We haven’t sung this often, so I’ll ask Jack to play it through before we sing.
The highest goodness is like water
and which by name 'Great Way' we call,
finds all the places which we can't reach
and without effort waters all.
All plants and fruits and crops are needful,
as also is our staple grain
of showers, of water and of monsoon
which fall on fields from clouds of rain.
But sometimes rains are not forthcoming
and life on earth seems strangely cursed;
so may we manage water fairly
and learn to put the green earth first.
Water at times can seem all powerful
when shook by earth and beat by wind;
in hurricane and wild tsunami
it damages our living kind.
Water is also gentle, healing;
it cools parched throats and bathes sore wounds;
washes our bodies and our raiment,
makes gurgling noise and lapping sounds.
Great Way, we recognize your patterns
and try to puzzle out your ways.
May gentleness and power together
be guiding waymarks for our days.
Reading: ‘To Live Our Lives Like Water’ by Parker J. Palmer (read by Antony)
I’ve been drawn to Taoism ever since I read Thomas Merton’s 1965 book, The Way of Chuang Tzu. The teachings of Chuang Tzu — a 4th century BC Chinese Taoist master — introduced me to a spiritual path often called “the watercourse way.”
Taoism counsels us to live our lives like water, but that does not mean “go with the flow” passivity. Taoism is all about nonviolent action. It invites us to flow quietly but persistently around the obstacles that stand between us and the common good, wearing them down as a river erodes boulders.
I don’t think Taoism — or any other wisdom tradition — has the whole answer to living well. Sometimes we must swim upstream against cruelty, injustice and untruth.
But rightly understood, Taoism is an important corrective to the Western obsession with force, even violence, as the way to get things done — which often results in little more than an escalation of violence.
Here are some words from the Taoist master Lao Tzu who names a few of the virtues that come from living “the watercourse way.” They won’t make you rich or famous. But they serve the common good, make life worth living, and help keep hope alive!
The best, like water,
Benefit all and do not compete.
They dwell in lowly spots that everyone else scorns.
Putting others before themselves,
They find themselves in the foremost place
And come very near to the Tao.
In their dwelling, they love the earth;
In their heart, they love what is deep;
In personal relationships, they love kindness;
In their words, they love truth.
In the world, they love peace.
In personal affairs, they love what is right.
In action, they love choosing the right time.
It is because they do not compete with others
That they are beyond the reproach of the world.
Words for Meditation: ‘Let Me Be Water’ by John Roedel
Thank you. We’re moving into a time of meditation now and I’m going to share a short poem by John Roedel, to take us into the silence. The poem points us towards the wisdom of water – when we are struggling, when life closes in on us – its repeated refrain is ‘Let Me Be Water’. The poem will take us into 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 we always say, the words are just an offering, so feel free to use this time to meditate in your own way.
When I am caught between a rock and a hard place ~
Let me be water.
When the path ahead is blocked ~
Let me be water.
When pressure builds from every side ~
Let me be water.
When fear hardens my heart ~
Let me be water.
When I am demanded to break or to run ~
Let me be water.
When I cannot see a way through ~
Let me be water.
Until at last, even the oldest stone in me remembers ~
water always finds a way.
Let me be water.
Let me be water.
Let me be water.
Period of Silence and Stillness (~3 minutes) – end with a bell
Interlude: The Swan by C. Saint-Saëns (performed by Sydney Mariano, Abby Lorimier, Jack Campbell)
Poem: ‘Water’ by Melissa Jeter (read by Julia)
Water is soft and yet it is persistent
Water flows and takes the shape of the boundaries it is given
Yet over time water, in her persistence, she can carve through mountains
When you try to grab water, you just get wet,
But if you can stop grabbing at her
She will hold you up and you can float and even swim
Water under pressure cleans dirt off houses and can cut diamonds;
Water raging can overflow the bounds put upon her;
She can drown whole towns, flood freeways
She can put out fire and save lives
So contradictory, both soft and hard
Never dominant or submissive
Water sustains, gives, and yields to
Life.
Poem: ‘Water Flows’ by Margaret Atwood (read by Brian)
Water does not resist. Water flows.
When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress.
Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you.
But water always goes where it wants to go,
and nothing in the end can stand against it.
Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone.
Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water.
If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.
ONLINE Poem: ‘In the Flow’ by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer (read by Lochlann)
Where else has it been,
the water that flows today
in the river beside me?
What song would it sing
of otherwhere? And other
otherwhere? And what
could it teach me of flow?
I think of how I carry with me
all the places I have been—
old cities with cobblestones
and mountaintops above the trees
and aspen glades and dark corners
that stink of sweat and piss
and bright hospital rooms and
cemeteries on hills.
Who would I be without
every trail I have hiked,
every bed I have tossed in,
every table where I’ve wept?
Watch how the waves seem
to stay in the same place
though the water that makes them
is never the same, a fact
that thrills me again and again.
Who will take my place here
when my own water flows on?
Or will the wave disappear
as after a flood?
And who has come before me
making this wave I call my life?
How easily it changes the day
to know self as a drop
in the stream.
Gathering of the Waters Ritual
It’s time now to enact our annual ‘Gathering of the Waters’ ceremony – to bring water, bless it, make our own holy water – we’ve been doing this for a few years now. The ritual symbolises our connectedness with each other in this gathered community, our interdependence with each other and with the generations that came before and will go after, and our place in the larger flow of life.
In case you aren’t familiar with the ritual, or perhaps you’d appreciate a reminder of what it’s all about, I will share a few words from UU minister Ana Levy-Lyons who writes: ‘What about Unitarians? Can we get in on this holy water thing? What, if anything, makes water holy for us? To the extent that Unitarians can agree on a theology, it entails the idea that the holy is to be found in the collective. The “illuminated moment of our gathering.” That when we come together, when we each bring a piece of our authentic selves to the community, we create something far greater than the sum of our parts. That something greater – that ineffable sparkle of electricity – is what some of us call God. And so, for us, I believe that holy water is water that all of us make holy together. It’s water that sparkles with the energy of a little bit of each of us, a little bit of each of our experiences, our history, our stories, our hopes, our love. It’s where the one includes the many and the many become one. We are each going to pour a little bit of the water we’ve brought into one collective bowl. The water will reflect the diversity of all of us. It will hold a spiritual charge because it has been intentionally charged with love from each of us. And this water is water that we together will pronounce holy. We’re going to save a little of our holy water to include in next year’s holy water, so each year will also include molecules from each of the past years. If we do this for the next hundred years, your water will still be there, however diluted, taking part in making the blessing. So I invite you: lift up your container of water and bless it. Fill it up with your best prayers and visions for our world, saturate it with your you-ness and then, when you’re ready, stand up, walk it up to the front and let it go.’
Hopefully most of you brought water from home or from somewhere you’ve travelled this summer; if not then hopefully you were given a bottle when you came in (if you haven’t got one now is the time to pick one up from the back). These are bottles of last year’s holy water so we have some continuity in our ritual as a little bit of water is saved and included from one year to the next. Please do join in this process at home too if you’d like to; perhaps you could hold your water up to the camera once the ceremony begins so we can see that you are joining in from afar. I have faith that in some mysterious way our blessings will mingle even at a distance.
So I invite you to focus on the water which is in your hands and – in whatever way this makes sense to you – to bless it. As Ana Levy-Lyons said: ‘fill it up with your best prayers and visions for our world; saturate it with your you-ness’. Imagine those prayers and visions and intentions mingling as we pour the waters into a common bowl, and symbolically, mysteriously, being transmitted onward. And imagine that water being used to bless people in the years ahead.
Jack is going to play some gentle music for us now and the invitation is for each of you to come up with the water you have brought and blessed, and silently, reverently, pour it into our common bowl. Or pour a bit of it! I will pour some on behalf of everyone who’s joining us via Zoom too. And Jack if you want to join in you can come up too after you finish playing! And when we’re done I’ll invite you to join in with a responsive reading to close our ceremony.
(Jack to play ‘The Water is Wide’ as we each pour our water into the common bowl)
Responsive Reading: ‘The Blessing of Water’ by Jane Blackall
We’ll bottle up this water after the service so you can take some away to keep if you’d like to.
I invite you now to join in with a responsive reading to conclude the blessing of the water. It’s on your hymn sheet and the words will also be up on screen. I invite you to join in the responses in bold.
We bless the water, and it blesses us,
as we encounter it in so many diverse forms.
May we, like water, find our way through the world,
following our own unique path.
We bless the lakes, ponds, and pools,
sanctuaries for life, and balm for our souls.
May we, like water, take time along the way
to gather ourselves and be still.
We bless the burbling streams, and rushing rivers,
winding their way across the landscape.
May we, like water, find ease in our journeys,
and flow around the obstacles we face.
We bless the fresh springs and deep wells,
which quench our thirst, and offer refreshment.
May we, like water, meet the needs of those
who cross our path, in a generous spirit.
We bless the water, falling as rain and snow,
rising through evaporation and transpiration.
May we, like water, embrace the never-ending
cycles of life, renewal, and transformation.
We bless the crashing waves, slowly eroding
the imposing cliff face, wearing it away.
May we, like water, with persistence,
overcome the oppressive forces that loom over us.
We bless the vast expanse of oceans,
their swirling currents, and unfathomable depths.
May we, like water, know that we are part of
something larger and more mysterious.
We bless the water, and it blesses us. Amen.
Hymn (on sheet): ‘I’ve Got Peace Like a River’
Our final hymn is an old favourite and it’s on your hymn sheet: ‘I’ve Got Peace Like a River’. Please note that it’s got seven verses! The last three are listed at the bottom under the music. And this is one of those hymns that might confuse you if you don’t read music because of the repeats!
I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river,
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.
I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river,
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.
I’ve got joy like a fountain, I’ve got joy like a fountain,
I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul.
I’ve got joy like a fountain, I’ve got joy like a fountain,
I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul.
I’ve got love like an ocean, I’ve got love like an ocean,
I’ve got love like an ocean in my soul.
I’ve got love like an ocean, I’ve got love like an ocean,
I’ve got love like an ocean in my soul.
I’ve got pain like an arrow, I’ve got pain like an arrow,
I’ve got pain like an arrow in my soul.
I’ve got pain like an arrow, I’ve got pain like an arrow,
I’ve got pain like an arrow in my soul.
I’ve got tears like the raindrops, I’ve got tears like the raindrops,
I’ve got tears like the raindrops in my soul.
I’ve got tears like the raindrops, I’ve got tears like the raindrops,
I’ve got tears like the raindrops in my soul.
I’ve got strength like a mountain, I’ve got strength like a mountain,
I’ve got strength like a mountain in my soul.
I’ve got strength like a mountain, I’ve got strength like a mountain,
I’ve got strength like a mountain in my soul.
I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river,
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.
I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river,
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.
Announcements:
Thanks to Ramona for hosting and Charlotte for co-hosting (if you’re online please do stay on afterwards for a chat with Charlotte). Thanks to Sydney, Abby, and Jack for lovely music, and Benjie for supporting our singing. Thanks to Jasmine, Antony, Julia, Brian, and Lochlann for reading. Thanks to Liz for greeting and Julia for making coffee. Please do stay for cake! We’ve got coffee and walnut, berry lime drizzle, or pear and ginger loaf (it’s a three-cake weekend! Though I’m hoping some will be left over for the baby naming event this afternoon!)
Tonight and Friday at 7pm we’ve got our ‘Heart and Soul’ online contemplative spiritual gathering – this week we’re ‘Embracing Weirdness’ – email me if you want to join and I’ll share the link. We’ve also got an in-person Heart and Soul on Wednesday night, let me know if you’re coming to that.
Sonya is back with Nia Dance from on Fridays at 12.30pm. That’s holistic movement and dance. Get in touch with Sonya if you want to know more.
We’ve got a few bonus events coming up this month that you need to sign up for in various ways. The walking group is going to try and relaunch on Tuesday 22nd – we haven’t decided where we’re going yet – we’ll probably try to pick a location that suits whoever signs up… so do sign up! We were thwarted by weather and tube strikes in spring and summer so let’s hope we’re luckier now!
We’re holding our labyrinth mini-retreat on Wednesday 23rd September for the autumn equinox, that’s a bit of an unusual timing, on a weekday afternoon, which I know won’t work for everyone but it was tricky to schedule this time. That’s led by me and Sarah so do sign up if you’re coming.
I’m afraid we’ve decided to cancel the congregational lunch that was due to happen at the end of the month as it became apparent that too many of our regular helpers were going to be away. Perhaps if you’re not currently counted in that gang of ‘regular helpers’ who we can rely on to organise lunches and make sure everything’s cleared up afterwards you could step up to muck in? And I am hoping we will have a wider conversation this autumn about our in-person programme and work out what offerings might work both for those of us who are already in the community and for those people out there in the world who haven’t yet found us! What else can we offer?
The Better World Book Club is reading ‘Lowborn’ by Kerry Hudson this month, that’s an online group so you can join us from anywhere on the evening of the 27th, we have a few copies of this book to loan out if you’re interested – they’re at the back – let me know if you take one.
And looking beyond this congregation I want to give a plug to the FUSE Festival of Unitarians that is taking place from the 13th-15th November in a nice hotel somewhere in Oxfordshire. There are still some places left for that and I put the details in the Friday email this week if you’d like to go.
The autumn newsletter is out so please do take a copy of that if you haven’t already had one. You could even take a copy for a friend if you know someone who’d be interested in what we do here.
And we’ll be back next Sunday when our service will be on ‘Hospitality as a Spiritual Practice’.
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. 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 music now.
Benediction: based on ‘Fountaining’ by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
‘Inside us, life like water leaps up from the source
to discover itself in relationship with light and air,
glittering as it catches the sun, changing its shape in the wind,
returning to source as one water, leaping up again.’
So, as we depart from this sacred gathering, and return to the world outside,
may we carry with us the wisdom of water as we re-enter the hubbub and flow,
knowing that whatever the coming week may bring, we too will find a way. Amen.
Closing Music: Farewell to Cucullain - traditional Irish arr. Kreisler (performed by Sydney Mariano, Abby Lorimier, Jack Campbell)
Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall
13th September 2026