Musical Prelude: I will play some gentle, reflective music to centre myself, before the start of the service. Roots and Wings by Elizabeth Hornby
Opening Words
In this time of insecurity and social upheaval,
When we are unable to meet in person,
I invite you into this time of online worship.
For this short time,
Let us put our worldly cares aside,
Close our eyes and imagine ourselves
To be in our places of worship,
Surrounded by members of our beloved community,
And be together, if only virtually,
For this space of time.
Chalice Lighting (you may wish to light a candle in your own home at this point. I will be lighting my chalice for worship at 11.00 am on Sunday morning)
We light our chalice today
Remembering with gratitude all the front-line staff
Of our hospitals, shops and public services,
Who are selflessly carrying on,
To meet the needs of the people they serve.
We light our chalice in the hope
That our loved ones may be safe,
That all people may be safe,
And in faith that normality will return,
And that we will return to normality
As kinder, more compassionate people.
Opening Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love,
Be with us as we gather for worship,
Each in their own place.
Help us to feel a sense of community,
Even though we are physically apart.
Help us to care for each other,
In this difficult time,
Keeping in touch however we can,
And helping each other,
However we may.
We hold in our hearts all those
Whose lives have been touched,
In whatever way,
By the coronavirus and the fall-out from it.
Amen
Reading from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the self-same well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say,
“Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits along with you at your board, remember that the other one is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
Alternative Lord’s Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love, here and everywhere,
May we be aware of your presence in our lives.
May our world be blessed.
May our daily needs be met,
And may our shortcomings be forgiven,
As we forgive those of others.
Give us the strength to resist wrong-doing,
The inspiration and guidance to do right,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
We are your hands in the world; help us to grow.
May we have compassion for all living beings,
And receive whatever life brings,
With courage and trust.
Amen
Reading Snakes and Ladders by Alison Thursfield from With Heart and Mind (shared with permission)
The board game we know originated in the ancient Indian game of Moshka-Patamu. It was devised as a metaphor for the living of life, and included ideas of virtues and vices, and of reincarnation. The Victorians then adapted it to what we have now.
To remind you: the board is made out of with squares numbered 1 to 100. Bridging these squares, at random, are snakes (head up, tail down) and ladders. The counters are moved at the throw of a dice, again at random. A counter landing on a snake’s head has to slither down to the tail end, but landing at the base of a ladder it climbs to the top. In either case the journey continues onward from the new position.
One’s journey in life seems similarly random with unexpected twists. There are setbacks. Sliding down a ‘snake’ literally brings us low, but in life as in the game, we must pick ourselves up and carry on. Sometimes one is given a boost, we are uplifted. The ‘ladder’ may take us to unexpected places, new areas to explore or new fields in which to grow.
But there is one aspect of the game which is rarely noted. The last few squares are free of either snakes or ladders. The last bit of the journey must be travelled on one’s own. But more than that, it may be a time of waiting because one cannot leave the ‘board’ until one throws the exact number on the dice to finish. One may throw it very soon, or it may take a long time.
We never know how many throws of the dice we have left.
Meditation by Alison Thursfield from With Heart and Mind (shared with permission)
How am I travelling my life’s path?
Remembering any setbacks or troubles,
can I accept such things,
pick myself up and carry on?
Am I aware of people around me
trying to cope with their problems?
Am I ready to turn aside like a ‘good Samaritan’
if I see another who has suffered a setback
and who needs my loving support?
My times of joy uplift me and fill me with happiness
and I give thanks.
But can I share such times
without boasting of my good fortune?
Can I enjoy another’s happiness without envy?
Am I courageous enough to think about my end,
and contemplate how I spend my waiting time?
May I give thanks for the gift of life,
and accept with equanimity
all that I encounter on my path.
I would trust the guidance of the indwelling Spirit at all times.
Reading The Guesthouse by Meylana Jelaluddin Rumi
This being human is a guesthouse
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness
Comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and attend them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
Who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture,
Still, treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
Meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
Because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
Welcome difficulty.
Learn the alchemy True Human Beings know:
The moment you accept what troubles you’ve been given,
the door opens.
Welcome difficulty as a familiar comrade.
Joke with torment brought by a Friend.
Sorrows are the rags of old clothes and jackets
that serve to cover, and then are taken off.
That undressing, and the beautiful naked body underneath,
is the sweetness that comes after grief.
Time of Stillness and Reflection
Let us now join in a time of stillness and reflection. The Buddhist Mettabhavana, or Prayer of Loving Kindness, is often used in Unitarian services, or for personal meditation. This is my version of it. After each line, I invite you to close your eyes, and pray for the people concerned, using the words given, if you wish…
First of all, we pray for ourselves: May I be well, may I be happy, may I be free from harm, may I find peace.
Next, we pray for our loved ones, those people who are dear to us: May they be well, may they be happy, may they be free from harm, may they find peace.
Next, we pray for someone less well-known to us, about whom we have no strong feelings, but whom we might know better, if we made the effort: May they be well, may they be happy, may they be free from harm, may they find peace.
Next, we pray for people we don’t know, for all the people who are doing their best to make a positive difference in the world, and for those who are lost in places of scarcity and fear: may they be well, may they be happy, may they be free from harm, may they find peace.
Next, we pray for someone we dislike, or find it difficult to get on with: may they be well, may they be happy, may they be free from harm, may they find peace.
Finally, we pray for the world: may all be well, may all be happy, may all be free from harm, may all find peace.
May all find peace, today and always, Amen
Musical Interlude Clouds by Elizabeth Hornby
Address On Joy and Sorrow
Joy and sorrow. There has been such lots of both around in the last few weeks. If I had been delivering this service to a live congregation in a church or chapel, I would have included Candles of Joy and Concern somewhere in the service. Because at the moment, there is so much to be sorrowful about and, paradoxically, so much to be joyful about too.
I totally understand Kahlil Gibran’s Prophet, when he says, “the self-same well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears…. The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.” Because joy and sorrow are the deepest feelings that human beings can have, and I truly believe that it is not possible to experience either deeply, unless we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and open to whatever life throws our way; all its joys, all its sorrows. If we choose to numb our responses to life, because we are scared of being too sorrowful, that we won’t cope with the despair, the disappointment, the loss, the grief; we are also numbing ourselves to the possibility of feeling deep joy. And that is truly sad.
Each person’s life is a rich tapestry of joys woven around with sorrows. I do believe that they are inseparable, and that to feel one, you have to be open to feeling the other. Like the Prophet says, “Together they come, and when one sits along with you at your board, remember that the other one is asleep upon your bed.”
Having the capacity to feel great joy and great sorrow also means that we have the capacity to love greatly. Which is surely a gift? We are living in difficult times, with over 10,000 recorded deaths from the corona virus at the time of writing. And that is only the ones who have died in NHS hospitals. The true figure is surely much greater… Most of us, by now, will have directly experienced the loss of someone we love, or at least know someone personally who has. I have lost two dear friends to this dreadful virus, and it is so hard not to be able to be with their families as they grieve, nor to show my respect and grief by attending their funerals.
And I have also felt the passing sadness of hearing about the deaths of well-known people, for example, Tim Brooke-Taylor. I used to love The Goodies when I was young, and very much enjoyed his contributions to I’m Sorry, I Haven’t A Clue on Radio 4. And American singer and songwriter John Prine. To mention only two…
Each death diminishes our world. Each time I hear about the death of someone else, whether known to me or unknown, I remember that each person was an individual, with parents, a partner, children, friends, who will grieve his or her passing. And I think of the words of John Donne,
“No man is an island, entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less,
as well as if a promontory were,
as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were:
any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind,
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
Yet each person has left an indelible mark on the world, by the simple fact of having lived. And that is surely an occasion for joy. So many of the funerals I have conducted have been “A celebration of the life of…”. And people have laughed and cried, shed tears and shared memories. Which is how it should be.
Because joy and sorrow truly are inseparable, as the Prophet says. And in spite of the sorrows of this time of trial – the gatherings missed, the hugs and kisses un-exchanged, the friends lost – there has been so much joy, so much connection, it has lifted my heart. The virtual Annual Meetings of our General Assembly have been a case in point. I did not join many sessions, but when I did, it was so good to talk to other people, to see well-loved faces, and to make new friends. Last Sunday, after delivering my own service in the solitude of my bedroom, I joined in two “coffee and chat” sessions on Zoom, one with Shrewsbury Unitarians, and one with Unitarians from the Birmingham and Kidderminster congregations, hosted by my dear friend, Winnie Gordon. As the old British Telecom slogan had it, it was “good to talk”.
Alison Thursfield’s thoughtful contribution to With Heart and Mind reminds us that life is a journey full of unexpected twists, full of joys and sorrows. I am sure that most of you played snakes and ladders as children. I well remember the joy of skipping several lines of the board by “climbing” a ladder, only to be cast back down to the bottom by sliding down a snake. It is a wonderful analogy for life, as we all experience it. It is entirely possible to be full of joy at one point in the day, then full of sorrow later on.
If I may give you a personal example. The other day, Maz and I went out for a walk around the fields which surround our village. The weather was beautiful, Spring was showing herself everywhere, in the ditches and the hedgerows and the fields themselves. We saw a red kite wheeling overhead, riding the thermals with such grace and majesty, and heard the pure song of a skylark. It was just gorgeous, and my heart was full of joy.
Then I came home and logged on to Facebook, to find that a dear friend had died in hospital, of complications from the corona virus. My bubble of joy burst, and I was filled with sorrow by the news of his passing.
And yet, the fact that I had been open to the joy of the surrounding Spring helped me to be able to cope with the sorrow I felt. Without the one, the other would have hit me a lot worse. I do believe that if we live our lives vulnerably, at a deep level, we become more resilient to sorrow. The advice given by the great Sufi poet, Rumi, in his wonderful poem The Guesthouse, can help us here. When I first came across it, some years ago, it puzzled me enormously. Why on earth should I “welcome difficulty”?
But I have discovered that if we are to live our lives fully, feeling every emotion, every joy, every sorrow, we will be incomparably richer thereby. I will finish by repeating the first two verses of that poem…
“This being human is a guesthouse
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness
Comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and attend them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
Who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture,
Still, treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.”
In spite of the sorrows and griefs of this time, may we all come through it safely, and be cleared out for some new delight.
Closing Words Each New Morning by Penny Quest (shared with permission)
Each new morning two choices are open to every one of us:
The choice to live that day in the joyfulness of Love,
Or in the darkness of Fear.
Each new day, as the sun rises,
We have another opportunity to make that choice.
The symbolism of the sunrise is the removal of shadow
And the return of Light.
Each new morning we have another chance
To rid ourselves of the burdens, sorrows and fears of the past,
To rejoice in the joy of the present,
And to look forward to a future of fulfilment
On every level of our being.
Each sunrise is a fresh opportunity to release fear,
To choose a different life-path,
To commit ourselves to joyful, light living,
To trust in ourselves and in the Universe,
To trust in the forces of Nature and in Mother Earth,
To trust God, the Creator, the all-That-Is.
Amen
Musical Postlude Lady of Lewesdon Hill by Elizabeth Hornby