What Am I Doing Here?

Sunday Service, 17 August 2025

Led by Dr. Patricia Brewerton

Musical Prelude: Mussorgsky - Impromptu Passionné (performed by George Ireland)  

Opening Words: ‘To Remember Our Promises’ by Sarah C. Stewart

Bring who you are as you enter our church this morning.

Bring your best self and your struggling self;

bring your mistakes and your triumphs;

bring your shortcomings and your recommitment to good.

Bring yourself here and open your heart to beauty, to truth,

to the door that is open to the presence of God.

Here in this church we are trying to walk together on the peaceable way;

trying to hammer out division, indifference, and hatred,

and all that separates one from another in this world.

We try, and we will fall short, but held in love, we try again.

We come together this morning, as a church,

to bow our heads in prayer, to raise our voices in song,

to remember our promises and vow to live by them once again. (pause)   

Words of Welcome and Introduction: 

These words from Sarah C. Stewart 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 via YouTube or the podcast.  For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Patricia Brewerton, and I’m a member of this congregation, Kensington Unitarians.

Our service today has the title “What am I doing here?”  It is a question I usually shy away from asking myself.  But a book I read recently made me explore my reasons for making the journey across London to spend time here in Essex Church.  I hope you don’t mind me sharing my thoughts with you and perhaps they will resonate with those of you who might also ask themselves “What am I doing here?”

Chalice Lighting: ‘Spirit of Holiness’ by Elizabeth Birtles

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 as companions on a journey to be reminded of mystery and of holy things.

We gather to see each other's faces, to be reminded of the sacred possibility

that even in our essential aloneness we may connect with each other.

We gather to weave and to reweave community that is animated by the mystery of life.

We gather, O Spirit of Holiness, to feel your presence, to worship, to listen,

to gain insight and courage and to celebrate the journey we make as companions.

Hymn 174 (green): ‘A Church is a Living Fellowship’

Our first hymn this morning is number 174 in the green book, ‘A Church is a Living Fellowship’.  For those on zoom the words will be up on screen. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer. Hymn 174.

A church is a living fellowship

More than a holy shrine,

Where people can share their hopes and fear,

Less of the yours and mine;

Where bonded by trust we search for Truth

Beyond the chains of creeds,

And thought can aspire to shine with fire

From all our deepest needs.

Let’s stretch out the open hand of Love,

Conquer the fists of hate,

Divided no more by voices of war,

Greeds of our mindless state.

We’ll take all our building bricks of Truth,

Make of them homes of Life,

A future to face the shame and disgrace

In all our past of strife.

A church is a place of human trust

More than of brick and stone;

Of Love we will sing to make it ring

In every joyous tone.

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. This prayer is based on some words by Susan Manker-Seale. 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)

As we gather this morning,

in this sacred space we co-create,

we embody the yearning of all people

to touch 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 in a few minutes of quietness now, let us seek a higher perspective, a longer view;

starting right where we are, let us shift our awareness ever outward, in circles of concern.

Let us bring to mind those we know to be struggling this day – perhaps including ourselves –

those friends and family we hold dearest – our neighbours in community –

others around the globe we may only have heard about on the news.

And let us take time to send prayers of loving kindness to all who suffer. (longer pause – 30s)

Let us look back over the last week, taking time to notice what was good, to count our blessings –

all the ways in which others helped or encouraged us, inspired or delighted us –

all the goodness and beauty we have known even in the midst of struggle.

And let us take time to give prayers of thanks for all we have been given. (longer pause – 30s)

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 191 (green): ‘To Worship Rightly’

Let’s sing again – our second hymn is number 191 in the green book – ‘To Worship Rightly’.

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.

In-Person Reading: ‘The Grout’ by Marcus Liefert (adapted)

The Unitarian Universalist congregation where I served as an intern made a mosaic Tree of Life the summer before I arrived. Congregants of all ages came together to craft the tree’s leaves, using bits and pieces of broken ceramics, jewellery, glass, and stone. There are many precious personal items in the tree, including fragments of the Berlin Wall, a father’s watch face, pieces of great grandmother’s china, and a key to the front door of a loved home. Like the members of the community that brought them together, each part is imbued with memories and meaning; each fragment holds a piece of truth.

Unitarians are mosaic makers. We are a people who bring together the broken pieces of our histories and the shining pieces of our seeking and, piece by piece, create a mosaic religion. Our Tree of Life is found in the stories of our living tradition. The bead from a transformational moment of worship at a youth conference or summer school. The bit of paper stamped with the blazing emblem of the Unitarian Service Committee that saved lives during World War II. The button or patch on a backpack that proudly proclaims the first justice issue that lit our souls on fire. But our mosaic making tells another story too, one that is often more difficult to see. One that is essential to the purpose of religious community. One that lies not in the beautiful and broken bits and pieces but in the grout.

Grout. The chalky, gritty stuff that is squeezed between the cracks of tiles. In a mosaic, the grout holds the image together, unifying disparate pieces into a whole. The grout of a community takes years to lay and settle. Grout happens in committee meetings, and endless emails, and slow-moving institutions. It is in potluck lunches shared, lifts to church, and coffee in the hall after worship; it is in participating in sharing groups where we get to know each other more deeply. It is in turning up on a regular basis, intentionally nurturing connections, and reaching out to those who are struggling. While the folks who show up for church only for special occasions will hopefully enjoy the beauty of the mosaic they find, they may never know the power of the grout that holds us through all the seasons of life.

We help to make the grout when we learn each other’s names and when we reach out across generational divides. We help to make the grout when we show up on Sunday morning without having checked first to see if we’re interested in the sermon topic. When a newborn arrives to be blessed by the community, it is the grout that enables us to welcome them. And it is in the grout that we rest when we gather to grieve and memorialize a beloved one who has died.

Liefert concludes with a prayer dedicated to the Grout: Hold us, O Grout. Gather us in, through time and space, and make all our broken pieces whole in community. In our multiplicity, make us one. From each of our jagged edges, give us the shape of a communal beauty.

Words for Meditation: ‘Revolutionary Love’ by Dayna Edwards

We’re moving into a time of meditation now. To take us into stillness I’m going to share a poem from a Unitarian Universalist author, Dayna Edwards, reflecting on what she is doing here (‘here’ being her UU church). The poem is titled ‘Revolutionary Love’. 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 some music from George for meditation. So let’s do what we need to do to get comfortable – maybe 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.

I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my faith.

My faith that our collective love united

can drown out the evils

of empire and hate and greed;

Together we create

a love energy

more powerful than

any force of oppression.

Because

When two or more people are gathered

side by side, arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder

the force of love ignites liberation.

Revolutionary love calls us

to know ourselves deeply

see God in the stranger

find beauty in the imperfect.

Revolutionary love calls us to find

the divine in dirt

the holy in the heartache

and the sacred in the scars.

Revolutionary love calls us out and then back in;

Revolutionary love calls us to be better and do better;

Revolutionary love calls us to heal and hold each other;

because

None of us would be here if it weren’t for our faith

in each other.

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

Interlude: Vaughan Williams - Slow Air from Suite of Six Short Pieces (performed by George Ireland) 

In-Person Reading: ‘Come to Church Anyway!’ by Victoria Weinstein

Last Sunday morning I picked up the phone in the office at the Unitarian Church of Baton Rouge, LA. After I said, “Good morning, Unitarian Church,” a woman’s voice said, “Good morning! Can you tell me what the topic is this morning?”

Uh-oh.

I thought real fast and said, “The topic is, ‘COME TO CHURCH ANYWAY!’ Come no matter what the topic is, because your church needs you and you need your church, and it doesn’t matter what the preacher’s going to say!”

I was the preacher that morning, and I knew it was true.

The woman patiently waited while I finished my enthusiastic pitch, winding down by lamely adding, “Um, the topic is actually ‘On Resilience.’”

“Thank you,” she said, and hung up. I’m glad she had a good sense of humour and was nice enough to greet me enthusiastically at the coffee hour after the second service. I had told the story to the congregation as an introduction to the Offering and she was a big enough sport to get a kick out of it, and to thank me for urging her to “Come Anyway!”

Sometimes I wish we could do away with advertising sermon topics in advance altogether and just say for every week, “Today’s sermon is called COME ANYWAY.” Sermons are living things. They are a response to our life together and may wind up taking a very different direction than what the preacher originally advertised.  You never know.

Come anyway. The church needs you. You are, in fact, the church. Worship services are very consistent around here: The Music Director and choir prepare beautiful music, the lay readers are terrific, the Children’s Message is adorable and meaningful, the ushers and the flowers gracious and lovely, the coffee hour sumptuous, and your minister does her utmost best to craft a relevant, thought-provoking sermon. But for my money, the most powerful moment that we share comes in the silence right before our meditation. How does that happen? It happens simply by virtue of all those people in all those pews, breathing and being together as one in the spirit of hope and healing, gathered not by common belief (amazingly enough) but by common values and common need. Come be a part of that. “Come Anyway!”

Reflection: ‘What Am I Doing Here?’ by Dr. Patricia Brewerton

A few years ago, the Pulitzer prizewinning author Marilynne Robinson produced a book of essays entitled What are we doing Here?  Having enjoyed several of her novels I splashed out on a hardback copy.  I have to say I was rather disappointed with the book.  I had thought I would read some serious writing on a subject which had filled many evenings with friends when I was in my early twenties.

I have an image of us all sitting around – on the floor of course – dressed mainly in black, smoking those French cigarettes which you can no longer buy and drinking cheap red wine.  And I am sure our discussion was as pretentious as this scene suggests.

What was the point of it all?  What was the purpose of life?  But, as Shakespeare’s character Prospero says, “We are such things as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep”.  That is true and no amount of discussion was going to produce a better answer.  We would probably have been better off dancing to Buddy Holly! 

A book I came across recently was, however, not a disappointment.  It is by a young woman called Lamorna Ash and is called Don’t Forget we are Here Forever and is subtitled A New Generation’s Search for Religion. I am a bit confused by the title because surely, we are NOT here for ever but nevertheless I found the book fascinating. Obviously, and perhaps unsurprisingly, young people are still struggling to find a meaning for their lives as I did when I was young.

When Lamorna Ash learns that two friends from university have become Christians and are training to be priests she sets out to discover religion for herself.  She visits all sorts of churches in one year from the fringe cult-like churches through the more mainstream churches such as Catholic and Anglican churches and gets as far as the Quakers but seems to have ignored us Unitarians! 

All the young people she interviews are looking for something within religion which will help them cope with life in our very troubled world.  They are seeking or have already found God.  Some of them were brought up by Christian parents and some have never experienced church at all.  As she spends a year attending various churches, Christian courses and retreats, often turning up on a Sunday morning with a hangover of one kind or another, she finds that she has herself become Christian and is now a regular attendee at an Anglican Church in North London. 

Reading this book made me question myself “Why am I here In Essex Church at this time in my life?”   Church has not had a good press for a while now.  There have of course been the scandals.  But even aside from this, the media tends to focus on things like whether or not the church should accept women priests or condone same sex relationships.  So, for someone like me, who likes to think of themselves as modern, progressive and “woke” even it is a bit embarrassing to admit that I am involved in a church.  When the subject comes up, I tend to mumble something about not really being religious, the church I go to is not like other churches etc etc.

But the thing is I have been involved in one church or another most of my life.  I think it all started before I was even born.  My nan was what would have been described as a respectable working-class East End woman.  Whilst she never went to church on a Sunday, she and her friends would go to an afternoon meeting during the week at the mission hut in Stratford.  Called a Mothers’ Meeting there would be a message and some singing and, more importantly, there would be somewhere for the kids to play,  a cup of tea and a biscuit.  It was something to do once a week.  It was the late 1930s, my dad had just left school and jobs were scarce.  Nanna decided it would be a good idea if he went along on a Sunday evening to the mission hut where the Pastor might help him find a job.  I don’t think that happened, but it changed my father’s life in another way and that influenced the way I and my siblings were brought up and why I cannot remember a time as children when we were not in church three times every Sunday.

I don’t remember much about the church in Mile End which we attended until my youngest sister was born and my parents decided we should attend a church nearer home, but I do remember the evangelical church where I spent most of every Sunday after we were re-housed to an estate in Essex.  This church excelled in emotional manipulation, guilt and fear.  We were warned about communists and Catholics who wished to take over the world but assured that Jesus would soon return and the whole world would see him arrive and he would take the saved to heaven.  But who could be sure they were among the saved?

Thankfully my parents moved again, and we left that church.  By this time, I was 18 and I decided I had had enough of church.  But the fear hadn’t really gone away and for years afterwards to ensure that we were safe when driving along a motorway I would sing hymns! 

This was the longest period in my life when I was not attached to a church because I didn’t get involved again until my eight-year-old son started to go to Sunday School with his friend.  I wanted to make sure what the church was about and that is when I found the United Reformed Church, first in Brentwood in Essex and later in Bloomsbury.

The URC is a theologically liberal church totally unlike the evangelical church of my teenage years. But like many of the more liberal mainstream churches it has lost a lot of members over the years and both the churches I was once a member of have closed in the last decade.

I have heard it argued that we are making choices about what we believe all the time and this changes as our lives and the world changes.  I am not sure that we can actually decide what and what not to believe.  I think belief is as much to do with our emotions as our intellect.  But I do agree that as our lives change what we believe changes too.  The URC is still a Bible-based church, and this became a challenge for me long before the church in Bloomsbury closed.  I continued in membership because at that time the congregation depended on me to keep things going.  Which I did as long as possible but eventually it was obvious that it could not survive.

At this point I could have decided that I really didn’t need church anymore.  It was 2020 and churches were in any case not open.  But someone told me about Essex Church’s excellent zoom services and here I am. 

I am still not really sure why I am here, and I am still embarrassed to admit to certain people that I am involved in a church.  But this is not just any church.  Here we really do believe in Justice and Peace.  We stand with people discriminated for their sexuality.  And our concerns are openly expressed each week as we light our candles. 

But these concerns are also openly shared with “certain people” who I work with in the Palestine Solidarity Campaign and other political organisations.  I don’t need to come to church to be with like-minded people.

The Palestinian artist Hazeem Harb says, “as a human being you cannot escape the fragility inside”.  And sometimes, knowing how people in Gaza and Sudan are being starved and bombed I wake in the night overwhelmed by that fragility.  I have an urge to fall on my knees and pray. Of course, I don’t do that because, well, to whom or what would I pray?

But when we come together on Sunday morning quietly and thoughtfully some of my pain is eased and I am renewed to continue doing what I can to create the peace and justice we seek.

Lamorna Ash quotes Robert, a lapsed Catholic returning to church.  His answer when asked why he goes to church is “I don’t know. I just feel I need to.”  I think that’s a good a reason as any.  Because I don’t know WHY I come to church, but I do know I NEED to.

Hymn 192 (green): ‘A New Community’

Let’s sing one last time. Our final hymn is number 192 in your green books, ‘A New Community’.  

We would be one as now we join in singing

Our hymn of love, to pledge ourselves anew

To that high cause of greater understanding

Of who we are, and what in us is true.

We would be one in building for tomorrow

A greater world than we have known today;

We would be one in searching for that meaning

Which binds our hearts and points us on our way.

We would be one in living for each other,

With love and justice strive to make all free;

As one, we pledge ourselves to greater service,

To show the world a new community.

Announcements:

Thanks to Ramona for tech hosting today. Thanks to George for lovely music. Thanks to ????? and ????? for reading. Thanks to Marianne for greeting and Liz for coffee. Do stay for a chat!

After the service today you can come back in here for Margaret’s singing class – that’s free of charge – she can help anyone make a better sound when singing. All are welcome.

On Wednesday we have Heart and Soul in-person with Brian. That’s at 7pm. Please let him know if you’re planning to come along. We haven’t got any online Heart and Souls this week as Jane and a number of other congregation members are away at Hucklow Summer School.

We haven’t got a service next Sunday because of Notting Hill Carnival. We’ll be back on the 31^st.

This month’s Better World Book Club is on ‘The Other Significant Others’ on the 31^st August (irregular date). Let Jane know if you’re planning to come along and she’ll send you the link.

Looking a bit further ahead I want to remind you that we have our next tea dance coming up on Sunday 7^th September – these events are great fun – and the more the merrier so do save the date. And if you’re willing to help with refreshments or greeting on the day please let Jane know.

And I also want to let you know that we’ll be having our ‘Gathering the Waters’ service and a congregational lunch on 14^th September – if you haven’t been to that before all you need to know for now is that if you travel anywhere interesting over the summer we invite you to collect some water (tap water is fine!) from wherever you go – and save it to bring along to that service.

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 if you haven’t already got one why not take home a copy of our summer newsletter? Or you could take a copy for a friend – please help us spread the word.

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: based on words by Cliff Reed

It matters that we come together when we can,

not just for what each may gain

but for what we each may contribute

by our presence and participation.

Remind us, in our heart of hearts, that if

we want our church to be there for us,

then we must be there for our church.

And remind us that, if we want others

to be there for us in our times of need,

then we must be there for them in theirs.

So, in the week to come, as we go about our daily lives,

may we feel a sense of lasting connection to this beloved community.

And may we truly know this church as a place where we belong – our spiritual home.  Amen.

Closing Music: Trad, Arr. Percy Grainger - Irish Tune from County Derry (performed by George Ireland) 

Dr. Patricia Brewerton

17th August 2025