Turning the page on a rotten 2020 - what can Unitarians in Ringwood say?

 “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

Oh! Unitarians can have pedantic conversations about the meaning of words, how we label ourselves (and others) individually and corporately, which literary and scientific scripts hold most for us personally, our direction of travel based on the paths we assert that we have already  travelled.  And we can make the mistake of airing in the broadcast medium of social media what instead should be addressed in quiet, contemplative dialogue with trusted friends in small groups.  But 'that which connects and that which divides are the same', as may be found engraved on certain old stone bridges in the wilder places in the UK; and we in Ringwood are hopeful for the future.

What do we most want to be and say as we turn this calendar page?  What is the best we can offer, at the moment, from our standpoint as Unitarians in Ringwood?

The Unitarian movement is a nonconforming movement deriving from the historic Church in the British Isles.  Nonconforming because it will not allow itself to be squeezed into a mould of anyone’s making, not by anyone who is fully participating in it, nor by anyone who is standing outside it.  It has attempted at various points in the past, and is yet attempting, to rediscover the Bible and Christianity as if found again with the innocence of fresh eyes.  Attempting to offer non-creedal universality and open reading of our shared cultural language and past.  Feeding into the dialogue, of the past with the present, the universality born of pluralism with insights from all sources hallowed by humanity, no matter how they become labelled.

In Ringwood we are attempting to sustain and grow a committed community, recognising where we each are at present, honouring our travels so far, and seeking a better world, right here and now, interiorly and exteriorly.  And locally.  For despite our online presence and the wide airing it gives us, what we most cherish are our person-to-person encounters in our local setting.

It seems to us in Ringwood that we are a community of faith, if faith is, as Stephen Lingwood says, “a search for a coherent set of stories, symbols, languages and practices that, taken together, offer a way of life that diagnoses a problem in human life and offers a solution......hope, community, vision.”

It seems to us that there is a peace there to be found, if only we look in the right way.

It seems to us that the world is beautiful, good and overflowing with the love and grace of the mystery that we obliquely refer to using the words God, All That Is, and many and various other insufficient labelling systems.

It seems to us that there is an essential relatedness and flow to existence.

It seems to us that human experience is essentially the twinned movements of response and listening in the context of existence.

It seems to us that what unites humans is that we cannot be divided.  We live and breathe in the same world that is, at heart, community, for better and for worse.

It seems to us that we are often blinded by words we hold onto, and imprisoned by ways of thinking and doing, which we have got used to; but if we listen and are ready to answer the call, however we understand the voice, then there is a way forward.

In that light, and given that as well as being the changeover of the year this is also Christmastide, you might imagine that it would seem to us to be right for us to present a message of good cheer.  Angels, music, shepherds, baby in a manger who turned out to have a saving message.  But actually, we don’t feel moved to anodyne words at present.  We are too restless for that; too much struck by discomfort.

As we stand at the deepest point of a multi-dimensional, national turning point:

• COVID19
• a new relationship with the European Union and potentially new relationships between the nations of the United Kingdom
• the rapidly growing societal inequality and the inadequacy of our economic system
• the emerging recognition of our slowness to dismantle discrimination in all its forms
• and — over and above all these — the climate emergency and largescale extinction events;

it seems to us that some traditional wisdom from biblical scripture has much to say to us.

Some of us are reading a book by Nick Baines* this Christmas season, and following his lead, we are paying attention to the prophetic voices of Amos and Isaiah across the centuries.

Amos spoke to a complacent people in about the middle of the eighth century BCE.  It was a time of great prosperity and apparent security.  But Amos saw that prosperity was limited to the wealthy, and that it fed on injustice and on oppression of the poor.  The report Amos brings from God is this:

“I hate, I spurn your pilgrim-feasts;

I will not delight in your sacred ceremonies.

Spare me the sounds of your songs;

I cannot endure the music of your lutes.

Let justice roll on like a river

and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”  

Amos, Chapter 5 vv 21-24 

These words seem to us to resonate with our personal disquiet about the general state of the land in which we live today, and what needs to be done about it.

Moreover, we are also aware that many around us today are beyond being consoled.  What can we possibly say that would bring comfort and joy to the bereaved, the destitute, the unwell, the frightened, the lost, for whom 2020 has brought personal catastrophe?

MELANCHOLY by Albert György

It seems to us that the only thing we can say is that, in the words of Nick Baines, "We will stay there with you even when there is nothing more to say and nothing we can say or do will resolve your predicament."

* Freedom is Coming: From Advent to Epiphany with the prophet Isaiah, Nick Baines 2019