December 2016 meeting for reverence joins us together in recognizing the art of grief #unitarians

With the slow cold of winter starting to set in, and the long darkness growing, death and passing are natural reflections at this time.  For some in our little community these are very real experiences right now, so this month we took readings and shared space around the topic of "Grief - there is no 'ought' to feeling."

The service was opened with a prayer titled ‘Hunted’ by our own Lucy Harris from the book Through the Prism.  It was especially poignant lighting the chalice candle, as an act of drawing close as a community, in a month when distance and commitments are keeping us apart.

Our readings were W H Auden's 'Stop all the Clocks', and Don Jon's speech from Act 1 Scene 3 of ‘Much Ado About Nothing’.  Both run the gamut of emotions at a time of loss.  Some gentle and edifying, some wild and raging; but all sincere, all honest, all valid.

 

Between the readings we took a reflection on the ‘Beginning of Winter’ from A Pagan Ritual Prayer Book by Ceisiwr Serith.  It ended with the poignant line 'teach...who has only fought for what I love'.

Our shared reflection was about not always comforting, not always counselling, sometimes just being there and sitting by, while we feel what we need to feel, whatever that is, for now.  It was time well spent and I know I speak for everyone in our little community when I say our thoughts are with those for whom this is a difficult time.

November 2016 meeting for reverence turns into a commentary on a key world event #unitarians

Our service leaders are nothing if not adaptable!

This month our president for the day, for 13th November, had been planning to dwell on an ethics of identity.  So in the light of the announcement on 9th November of the name of the President-Elect, who in January 2017 will become 45th President of the United States of America, our leader adapted our service, whilst holding to the topic “Who do they say I am?”

In the light of the news, in a gathering that focused on who we say others are, and what narratives we allow to be built up around us, which can lead to persecution and hardship for others, we contemplated the documentary references below.  What do we allow to be said about others?  Do we challenge stereotypes and falsehoods?

We were glad to welcome four new faces on Sunday, some of whom we hope to see again at another of our meetings for reverence.

The Bible, Good News Translation

Mark Chapter 8

http://www.biblestudytools.com/gnt/mark/8.html

27  Then Jesus and his disciples went away to the villages near Caesarea Philippi. On the way he asked them, "Tell me, who do people say I am?"

28  "Some say that you are John the Baptist," they answered; "others say that you are Elijah, while others say that you are one of the prophets." 

29  "What about you?" he asked them. "Who do you say I am?" Peter answered, "You are the Messiah." 

30  Then Jesus ordered them, "Do not tell anyone about me." 

31  Then Jesus began to teach his disciples: "The Son of Man must suffer much and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the teachers of the Law. He will be put to death, but three days later he will rise to life." 

32  He made this very clear to them. So Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 

33  But Jesus turned around, looked at his disciples, and rebuked Peter. "Get away from me, Satan," he said. "Your thoughts don't come from God but from human nature!" 

The Apology by Plato (Socrates’ apology to the men of Athens, as recorded by Plato)

<a href="http://worldartsme.com/">WorldArtsMe</a>

http://www.sjsu.edu/people/james.lindahl/courses/Phil70A/s3/apology.pdf

  

“So let us take up from the beginning what the accusation is, from which has arisen the slander against me. ..... What did the slanderers say to slander me? Their sworn statement, just as though they were accusers, must be read: “Socrates does injustice and is meddlesome, by investigating the things under the earth and the heavenly things, and by making the weaker speech the stronger, and by teaching others these same things.” ... ...You yourselves also used to see these things in the comedy of Aristophanes: a certain Socrates was carried around there, claiming that he was treading on air and spouting much other drivel about which I have no expertise, either much or little. And I do not say this to dishonour this sort of knowledge, if anyone is wise in such things; but in fact I, men of Athens, have no share in these things.”

October meeting on letting go of worry, with a rousing chorus from Port Isaac’s Fisherman’s Friends #unitarians

We had a lovely meeting on Sunday 9 October, with the theme “Don’t worry!  Be happy!”  Using our Unitarian freedom, the order of our service was changed, with our usual sharing ritual near the end instead of the beginning, as a means of cementing what had gone before.

As usual, at the start, we had a space in which participants were invited to silently centre themselves and go through in their own minds why they had chosen to be there.  For myself, I usually use that space to recite my personal creed or to remind myself of the insights or intuitions I had most recently received through my personal lectio divina activity.

We then had an opening prayer (or reading) from Kalidasa, an ancient Hindu writer, reminding us to look to this day so that all our yesterdays become a dream of happiness and all our tomorrows comprise a vision of hope.

After a hymn including the words of Sydney Henry Knight: “We do not seek a shallow faith, A God to set us free from trial and error, harm and death....But strength that we may cope...[and] trust the Life invincible within”, we lit our candles of concerns and joys.  This was a cherished time, during which we spoke in the safe space we had managed to establish.

We then had our scripture readings.  We heard words attributed to Jesus from the lost gospel known as “Q”, in which he challenged his followers to stop worrying, as worrying cannot add a single moment to their lives.

We next heard the Buddha’s teaching on causation and circumstances.

We sang another hymn reminding us not to grieve though life be full of sadness, and then we heard the president’s reasons for choosing the two readings from Jesus and the Buddha.

“Jesus deals in emotive pictures, touching the heartstrings.  The Buddha provides a cool, detached, theoretical and intellectual explanation.  Putting these two readings in different language, the first reading says that God has already dealt with what we dread, with the actions we have taken in our lives and the dreaded consequences (though Jesus doesn’t say how).  The second reading says that what has happened, and what will happen, are all included in the natural order of things.  Sometimes the emotional answer is what we need to hear, and sometimes the logical theory gives us more.”

To get down to the nitty-gritty, we then heard a few examples of hints and tips about “not worrying, and being happy.”  One particularly striking one had been derived from Aldous Huxley: we all crave separateness and then as soon as we have grown into separateness we crave peace.  But we can’t have both peace and separateness, so if we want peace more than we want separateness we have to learn to undo our separateness again.

After our seven minute period of silent meditation we heard the prayer poem by George Herbert, “Come my way” and we finished off with a rousing song from Port Isaac’s Fisherman’s Friends “Come all you no hopers, you jokers and rogues.” Hear and watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYA_0R7Vw1s

Come, all you no hopers,
you jokers and rogues
we're on the road to nowhere,
let's find out where it goes
It might be a ladder to the stars, who knows
Come, all you no hopers,
you jokers and rogues.

Leave all your furrows in the fields where they lie
Your factories and offices;
kiss them all goodbye
Have a little faith in the dream maker in the sky
There's glory in believing him
and it's all in the beholder's eye.

Turn off your engines and slow down your wheels
Suddenly your master plan loses its appeal
Everybody knows that this reality's not real
So raise a glass to all things past and celebrate how good it feels.

Awash on the sea of our own vanity
We should rejoice in our individuality
Though it's gale force, let's steer a course for sanity

Harvest-time – a time of fruition – remembering the sacred meal #unitarians

The time of fruition came, the crowning glory.

The all, complete entirety, the dance, the great unfolding, the source and rule of all that is, radiant and breathing through the great teacher Jesus, said this to humankind, to us:

I am realized, I am embodied.

Take, eat: this here, this now – this is my Body which is given for you.

Remember thisness as often as you eat; set your self down – as you would set down a plate on a table – to clear the way for me to claim you and nourish you.

All of you, drink of this: this here, this now –

 this is my Lifeblood which is given for you.

Remember thisness as often as you drink; hold out your self – as you would hold out a chalice to the jug – to clear the way for me to claim you and fill you.

Set your self down and offer your self up,

And I will claim you.

September 2016 meeting for reverence #unitarians

Poetry took centre stage in our September meeting.  After our usual ritual, which for some is a recollection of our gathering together - to be more than we can be by ourselves -  we had three poems on autumn.  A contemporary Pagan source provided our sacred scripture for the day.  There was time for quiet reflection and then we enjoyed a lively discussion over coffee, and we found ourselves particularly engaged by one of the poems.

What we did (2) in Aug 2016 Ringwood #unitarians

So while some of us were meeting in Ringwood this month, other encounters were going on elsewhere.  In France there was a trip to a pilgrim refuge on the Limoges route to Santiago in Spain – one of the branches of the Camino de Santiago de Compostella.  This is one of the toughest branches of the famous pilgrim trail, and people researching taking that route are advised that their motivation will be well tested.  On this route there are only three refuges especially set aside for pilgrims; otherwise pilgrims must find their accommodation in the normal range of B&Bs or hotels.

The refuge at St Ferme in Gironde is simple, build as a mezzanine to a barn, and comprising a kitchen/dining room/office, a bedroom with bunks for six, two showers, a loo and a washing machine.  There is a small separate bedroom set aside for the hospitalier who welcomes and hosts the pilgrims, and who themselves must have completed the pilgrim route in the past.  All pilgrims must move on after one night.  It was the hospitalier for the week that we went to visit; someone known to us in the UK, someone who gives up a fortnight a year to live in very bare circumstances alongside pilgrims who are doing the same.  

While visiting our friend, we also visited the Benedictine Abbey of St Ferme, which is vastly larger than such a small hamlet as St Ferme would normally be associated with. And the Abbey is visited by many of the Santiago pilgrims, as a sanctuary in which to restore their spirits, and perhaps once more focus on why they have chosen to make their pilgrimage.

In this part of France it is clear that the whittling down of pilgrim paths to the few that are well documented and supported today is a very new thing.  Many villages and towns not today recognised as being on the pilgrimage route still display the scallop shell denoting a pilgrim in little architectural details, over the doors of chapels, or houses.

Until contemporary times it is likely that pilgrims drifted down towards the crossing into Spain across a much broader swathe of countryside.  Some were welcomed, but in other areas the pilgrims were seen as harbingers of disease, and were strongly encouraged to remain outside the precincts of the bourg.  Little chapels in the middle of nowhere, established to allow pilgrims to pray apart from the townsfolk, are still found in some places.

Another interesting August encounter was with the French nun of the Russian Orthodox convent near Grassac, in the Charente.  There are now four sisters there and the convent, which is regularly open to the public, was inaugurated in the late 1980s.  All the icons inside were painted by the sisters themselves, and they cover the interior walls of the striking church.  Like Ely Cathedral, there is a lantern window in the very centre of the church that lets light down into the nave below.  Unlike Ely, the flat ceiling of this lantern is painted with an icon of Christ, and this too was painted by one of the sisters, some 15 m above the floor of the nave.

Our nun guide lit up when she understood that some among our visiting party were Scots, and she broke into good English to describe how she was for quite some years a nun at a Buddhist community outside Glasgow.  The hamlet with the Russian Orthodox convent is even smaller than St Ferme, yet the nuns have set up a long, new-ish building set aside for inter-religious conferences, meetings and training sessions.  We couldn’t help thinking that the nun’s experience as a Buddhist before finding her vocation in the Russian Orthodox Church, as well as the experience of being Russian Orthodox in a secular state like France (yet faintly influenced by the Roman Catholic Church), probably explains the success of this venture.

What we did (1) in Aug 2016 Ringwood #unitarians

All real living is meeting, said Martin Buber.  Just how many people need to be there, for meeting to happen?  Where two or three are gathered together in my name, said Jesus, there I am amongst them.  When reading a book, there are always at least two people meeting in relationship – the author and the reader – but also all the people who have contributed to the setting down of, or the re-interpretation of, the narrative.  And, if but one human stands on a cliff top, feet in the heather and springy turf, watching the sun set behind piled-up clouds, terns and black-headed gulls wheeling by, with the sea crashing its brilliant white surf down below, what meeting is it that is going on there? – for meeting there most certainly is.

So we had a sparse meeting in August, summer season, with absences and work commitments getting in the way of a bigger meeting; yet meet we did.  The topic was the stories we tell ourselves and about ourselves, as part of who we are and how we know ourselves.  We had texts from Tolkien and Alan Garner and we spent time in silent reflection; and felt all the better for it.

Exceptional cancellation of meeting for reverence #unitarians

On 10 July the central streets of Ringwood will be closed owing to the Pedal Car Grand Prix.  As a result it will be very difficult to access the Meeting House and hard to maintain a quiet, reflective atmosphere within.  Exceptionally, therefore, we have decided to cancel our July meeting for reverence.

The meeting leader scheduled for July will now lead the meeting in August.

How do we befriend death: reflecting on assisted dying #unitarians

This was the Didymus Day lecture for 2016, on Saturday 2 July, and the address was given by Revd Canon Dr James Woodward, Principal of Sarum College, Salisbury.  We are grateful to the Montgomery Trust for making this lecture possible. www.montgomerytrust.org.uk

James spoke first about the composition of the parliamentary Commission on Assisted Dying; what was commissioned (the question to be answered), who was on the panel, how the Commission worked, and what it did.  He displayed the report that came out, which was a volume of many pages.  James then set out the argument against assisted dying, followed by the arguments in favour of assisted dying.  After that he was frank about his own views based on his experiences, and why it was that he had felt it necessary to dissent from the findings of the Commission, a matter which unfortunately overshadowed the media announcement of the completion of the Commission.

The arguments fall into these categories, and there are unresolved questions in each of them:

Arguments against assisted dying:
1.    The sanctity of life.
2.    Medical ethics.
3.    Protecting vulnerable groups.
4.    The slippery slope (or paradigm shift).

Arguments in favour of assisted dying:
1.    Personal autonomy.
2.    Compassion.
3.    Medical ethics.

The discussion was frank, varied and respectful.  A difficult topic, and many different views and questions were aired.  The issues and questions James left us with, to take away and think about, were these:

There is a need for us to work together to put our spiritual outlook on life to work in regard to this important matter.  In this we need to find space to talk about death.

• What is an ideal death?
• Can any of us ever have a pain-free existence?
• Are we worried about becoming a burden on others?
• What are most people afraid of when they die?
• What does "quality of life" mean?
• Does medicine strive to keep us alive for too long?
• What choices do we have?
• What are our fears of assisted dying?
• When suffering becomes unbearable do we have a duty to release the sufferer rather than prolong it?
• Can we befriend death and help others to do so?

We were also pointed to the websites
www.wellbeingindying.org.uk

www.commissiononassisteddying.co.uk

Oneness in a time of division - a #Unitarian view #MoreinCommon

Human beings have many modes of being and doing.  That simple statement is the first step towards drawing a contrast, towards differentiating.  We find we cannot live without differentiating – seeing this nourishing foodstuff as different from that poisonous one, in the primal animal sense, is crucial to our survival.  There are times when we must contrast, differentiate, divide, reject.

But we also have another mode of being and operating: that of integrating, of drawing everything together in some sense of order and oneness, of displaying some form of comprehensiveness from every viewpoint, of merging and the dissolving of barriers.  So there are times when we dissolve, integrate, unite, encompass.

It is false philosophy that sets out one of these modes of being as superior to the other.  There are times for ebbing and times for flowing, and we, in tune with all life, are in the flow of the dance between the two.  Nonetheless, we do hear from wise teachers in all ages that we are in the habit of spending too much time in the contrast-differentiate-divide mode, giving rise to much tension and animosity, wars and atrocities, between persons and communities.  We are advised to love our enemies, to see that other persons are no more than ourselves in different lives, to integrate all opposites – to notice that when we define one something as beautiful we necessarily and unavoidably are defining another something as ugly (with the inference: “so don’t do it”).

There are always fault lines in a nation but, when they are complex to define, people generally just rub along with them.  It is when clear and explicit divides are forced in front of us, in a way that we cannot ignore, that life becomes raw, awkward and abrasive.  Since the lead up to the Scottish referendum on independence from England, Wales and Northern Ireland the United Kingdom has been continuously in a time of division.  In fact, look at Northern Ireland and I defy anyone to say we have ever lived in a United Kingdom. This latest referendum on the UK remaining in the EU or leaving the EU will not mark the end of the era of division.  Despite sane calls for healing, for seeing what we have in common over and above what divides us, the spirit of the times is for disintegration and disestablishing the old order, for a complete revisiting of identities and where we fit in our little worlds.

It is difficult to live or even to promote the Unitarian message that “there’s a certain mysterious, undefinable sort of one-through-ness to all of life” in these times.  It would be dishonest to pretend I am operating in a uniting mode at present.  I am finding that people I have been in the habit of being with from time to time are no longer attracting me; in fact I have designs for being near them no more.  I find that my daydreams now include desires for some quite disruptive events to be visited upon our country, in a way that I would have found quite offensive some years ago.

I think I am instinctively detecting that the storm hasn’t yet hit.

I think that these years are the years of storing up the potential energy that – on some day that is coming closer now – will inevitably resolve the rising tensions, not in the way hoped for by those sane voices asking for togetherness, but rather by a big kinetic explosion.  And I think my daydreams are signs that I don’t like this time of waiting, of waiting for the kettle to boil.  Let’s get it over and done with; let’s have the volcanic eruption; let’s blow ourselves apart so that we can then have the dust settle and then experience a time of getting familiar with a new order.  Let’s get on with it.  And this way of thinking is not wrong, or bad, nor even sinful where I use the word sinful in

its original meaning of “missing the mark”. In fact, more and more I think it is on the mark and to the point.  This is a dividing and yes a divisive time and such times are necessary before a new pattern can emerge.  I think of Siva the transformer god who dances destruction and re-creation into the world in the same way that you or I would turn a kaleidoscope to make a new pattern (does anyone remember kaleidoscopes these days?). (Try the link https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/62/Kaleidoscope.webm/220px--Kaleidoscope.webm.jpg  link to Wikipedia video of kaleidoscope action  )

This divisive way of being is new to me and it feels rather strange.  It won’t stop me being courteous to people even if they disagree with me; it won’t stop me reaching out my hand where help is needed: but it will change where I go and whom I choose to associate with; it will mean I wear a badge to display my viewpoint where before I used to hide and disguise my position.  And I will do those divisive things not despite, not running counter to the wisdom of the world’s teachers and prophets; but because as a Unitarian I can see that we should not idolise oneness and togetherness, any more than we should idolise anything else.  Because in a healthy system there are appropriate times and places for blowing things apart.  Roll on the second Scottish referendum on independence.

June 2016 meeting for reverence

Something in the air?  Last weekend was the weekend of national celebrations for the Queen’s 90th birthday – some sense of rootedness, perhaps, to balance out the national turmoil over the pending decision to remain in or to leave the European Union – and lo! our gathering for reverence took the theme “Maintaining a grateful balance”.

Or perhaps the theme reflected events and experiences closer to home, as members of our small community have been providing mutual support through some personally taxing, unforeseen life events recently.

Our readings came from Dan Millman and Kristi Nelson, taking two different perspectives on what is required in order to live in balance; and why it is necessary to say “no” to some things in order to be able to say “yes” to others.  The perfect balance of the egret when fishing, and the need to thin out crowded, green peaches were the two abiding images from the readings. The meeting leader mused on the intersection of the divine with the messy experience of life as it is lived, and suggested that the insight in common from the two readings was mindfulness, attentiveness, intentionality.

Our opening prayer came from Aelin – a Pagan Catechism by Darren Canning and our closing prayer from Spirit of Time and Place by Cliff Reed, and we sang two hymns from Sing Your Faith, about seeking faith and life being a gift.  We also heard The Island by Hollie Sue   http://www.holliesheard.co.uk/songs.html

Our candles as usual drew out matters of concern to us, joys as well as sadnesses, and we had a frank yet gentle conversation on our theological perspectives over refreshments.  It was generally felt that as we grow our group we must do what it takes to retain the respectful and occasionally intimate context we have achieved so far.

May 2016 meeting for reverence

The theme of our gathering on Sunday 8 May was “Happiness – Don’t let it get you down”.

 The proposition was that if we define happiness as being a particular condition, then if for some reason we are not able to attain that condition we may add disappointment, guilt or confusion to our personal baggage.  Not only do we “fail” in finding happiness but we entrap ourselves with false expectations – this is scarcely a path to lightness of heart and freedom of living.  We noted that specifying an expected condition for happiness can become a trap within some faith traditions for some of their adherents.

So we looked at various definitions of happiness, starting with the Hellenistic Epicurean, Sceptic and Stoic schools of philosophy.  In essence, Epicureans defined happiness in terms of experiencing pleasure; Sceptics, in terms of honour, in terms of living according to conscience; and Stoics, in terms of evenness of flow of life, i.e. no exaggerated elation or exaggerated disappointment.

We were invited to contemplate in our period of silence how we personally describe or define happiness.  And we were invited to consider that every path cannot be smooth all the time, and, rather than detracting from it, the rough patches actually enrich the overall human experience via poignancy.  As an illustration of this we heard from the closing chapters of  The Return of the King by J. R. R. Tolkien, a man who knew suffering first-hand from his experiences of the Great War.  He was able to write the memorable words, “I will not say: do not weep;  for not all tears are an evil.”

We sang the tune of Amazing Grace but to some words speaking to the changing seasons, the river merging with the sea, birth and death, and each verse closing with the words “Though never twice the same”.  Our gathering ended with the blessing below:

“May the Great Tree spread above you,

And the River run on through you,

May the Star shine soft upon you,

And bathe you in its splendour,

Unto the edge of day.”

Unitarian book group in Ringwood to relaunch in May 2016

After our success in running an informal book group in early 2015, we are now looking to repeat the exercise in May this year, at a coffee shop in Ringwood.

The book we will be dipping into and discussing together will be Something Understood, a collection of poetry and prose edited by Mark Tully of the BBC, based on his Radio 4 series inviting contributions on the spiritual dimension.

For more details or to express an interest in taking part, email lucyunbox.ringwood@btinternet.com

Muster 2016 and stakeholders' interests

The annual muster for 2016 is now closed. We are delighted to say we have doubled the number of names from the 2015 muster.

Owing to our constitution, we have a formalised relationship with those on the muster roll, all of whom can expect to be fully consulted as we make decisions which affect our future.  But if you are not on that muster roll we would still like to hear what you think about what we do, so do not be shy about getting in touch with us.

Especially we would be interested to hear from anyone who would have liked to have been along to any of our meetings, but who so far has been prevented from doing so by reasons of timing, venue, day of the week or any such reason.  Do please send an email to the address on the front page of this site.  And you might also consider subscribing to the newsfeed by using the "email subscribe gadget" at the top of the site.

April 2016 meeting for reverence

Not Ringwood! - but a large gathering of Unitarians in 2012

Our meeting built on the theme of Community, which was last aired in January.  Once again it was noted that one of the richest sources of advice about how to form, live in and sustain communities is the Christian tradition.  Moreover, the Christian tradition explores why communities are essential to our wellbeing and are crucial to spiritual growth.  It seems to be necessary for us to reconcile our deep need to be true to ourselves (which seems like a very self-contained function) with our other needs to love and be loved; to be seen; to be listened to; to be accepted at face value on our own terms (all of which require us to have people around us whom we connect with).

We had two readings from contemporary Christian writers (Esther de Waal and Ian Adams) examining togetherness, solitariness, loneliness, and the repeating habit of religious people to first come home to themselves and then go out to connect with others.  We also heard about some of the key factors that will sustain communities in the longer term, especially the relationship between the life of the community and the lives of the members within it.

And bearing in mind the pivotal role of communities in keeping us balanced and whole, we asked why it seems to be so hard for us, living in the 21st century, to prioritise participating in community life - why we so resist joining groups and making commitments.

We had the same hymns as in January, partly so that we begin to get to know them better, and we also included a guided meditation after we had lit our candles of concern.

Online bells and candles to keep us centred

There are two wonderful websites for people trying to establish the habit of mindfulness and focus on the interior aspect of living, whilst having to spend a lot of time on their personal computers.  I'm not sure how well they work on smart phones or tablets.  You do not have to download any software onto your computer for either of them.  Both sites are freely offered but accept donations for their work.

The first website allows you to set up a 'mindfulness' bell to ring either at random or at specific intervals.  The practice one is encouraged to adopt is (just like monks in a Tibetan monastery) to go about one's usual business, but then when the bell rings, to take three mindful breaths and regain a wider perspective of just what it is one is doing right now, right here.  To live in the real world of one's senses, rather than in one's virtual world of thoughts.

http://www.mindfulnessdc.org/bell/

The second website allows you to 'light a candle online'.  By following the instructions and clicking, you are invited to go through the same interior process as you would do in lighting a wax candle with a match.  It may sound trite; but if approached in the right manner it can be a moving experience.  What you get from it, as with so many things, is determined by what you put into it.

http://www.gratefulness.org/light-a-candle/

March 2016 meeting for reverence

On Sunday our meeting for reverence was led by a visitor – the Unitarian District Minister for London and the South East of England, Rev Martin Whitell.  Martin had already conducted two Unitarian weddings at the Ringwood Meeting House but this was the first time he had come to lead our regular meeting for reverence.

He took as his theme “The Sounds of Silence.”

Our gathering followed our usual format, starting with a simple ritual.  Our silent ritual can be interpreted in a variety of ways, since we each place meaning on it privately.  For instance, one interpretation might be that it honours the four fundamental elements fire, earth, water, air.  Another interpretation might see the same ritual as reminding us of “light of spirit or soul connecting us”, “bread of life given for us”, “water of life moving through us”, “breath of life inspiring us”.  But there are as many different meanings as there are people taking part, because as Unitarians we do not impose doctrine (religious theory or explanations) on anyone.

Included in the meeting were a mixture of readings, silence and music, both for listening to and for joining in with.  There was “Songs without Words” (Op 38 no 6) by Felix Mendelssohn.  There was also a piece performed by the Dunblane Cathedral handbell ringers.  Two hymns from the most recent Unitarian hymnbook were sung and then Martin reflected on the role of quietness in our finding our way in life.  The Simon and Garfunkel song “Sounds of Silence” gave more food for thought.  The texts of the hymns and readings explored the religious experience of realising in quiet times things that are not easy to put into words but that underpin life choices and changes.

Also as usual, we lit candles as we shared our current joys and concerns.  This part of the meeting sometimes has many words out loud, and sometimes almost none at all.  Yet it is always one of the most moving parts of our time together.

These are some of the words that were used during our meeting:

We listen too much to the telephone and we listen too little to nature.  The wind is one of my sounds.  A lonely sound, perhaps, but soothing….

As a matter of fact, one of the greatest sounds of them all — and to me it is a sound — is utter, complete silence. 

André Kostelanetz (1901–1980) Russian conductor

And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon god they made

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming

And the sign said “The words of the prophets

Are written on subway walls

And tenement halls

And whispered in the sounds of silence.”

© 1964 Words by Paul Simon

True silence is the rest of the mind;

it is to the spirit what sleep is to the body – nourishment and refreshment. 

William Penn (1644–1718)

  

You can hear the footsteps of God

when silence reigns in the mind. 

Sri Sathya Sai Baba (1926–2011)

Indian guru and philanthropist

Let us be silent,

that we may hear the whispers of the gods.

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) Transcendentalist