What does 'being Church' mean? How does that seem to #Unitarians? - Ringwood Unitarians' gathering 11 November 2022

Our gathering in November was nearly cancelled but we are glad that it went ahead despite a very low turn out.  Because this was a very important gathering, asking big and important questions about what Church means to us.  What does ‘being Church’ mean?  What does ‘Church in action’ look like?  Why do those of us who gather find it necessary to gather?  Why don’t we simply carry on with our spiritual journeys, each a pilgrim on their own?

The gathering was really an enquiry about what 'being Church' is, or could be, for Unitarians.

The memorial board for the fallen from the
previous Unitarian congregation at the Meeting House

It being Remembrance Sunday, the candle in the chalice was lit to words adapted from For the Fallen by Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943).  And then, as usual, we were invited to privately take stock of the recent days and weeks and to be honest about how we well we had been living up to what is most important to us.  Later on in the gathering, after the readings and reflection on them, we lit candles to share our joys and concerns, and heard words of hope and blessing.

Our blog habitually devotes more space to the readings we hear in a gathering, and the reflection on the readings, merely because words can easily be brought across into the blog.  It is not possible to bring across into a blog the experience we have when we use prayer words together, light candles together, sit in silence together, or the feeling of singing together.  You will only truly get the flavour and feel of our gatherings by coming along to one.  So please do, when you are able.

We heard two stories made famous through the teachings of Jesus, namely “The Good Samaritan” from the book of Luke in the Christian Bible (Chapter 10 verses 30-35), and “The Prodigal Son” also from the book of Luke (chapter 15 verses 11-32).

For those unfamiliar, “The Good Samaritan” is a story in which a traveller gets mugged on the road from Jericho to Jerusalem, is ignored in his danger by upstanding members of society, yet is made safe and helped to get better by someone whom Jesus’ audience would have considered outcast.  And the story of “The Prodigal Son” tells of a younger son in a family, who is granted his share of the inheritance, then leaves to go abroad and wastes it all, and eventually goes back where he came from, with his tail between his legs.  Whilst his father makes him welcome, his elder brother is very grudging and resentful. The father attempts a reconciliation between them.

Before going any further, it is necessary to make clear there are (at least) two different inferences in the word ‘Unitarian’.  To be a Unitarian can, as well as other things, mean that (1) you experience or claim or guess that the divine nature is necessarily a “one-ness”, as contrasted with the “multiplicity” of the Hindus and Pagans, or “three-ness/Trinity” as traditional Christians maintain and/or (2) no matter what you experience or claim or guess about the divine nature, you have some form of allegiance to or participation in the movement that calls itself the Unitarian Church in the UK.  The first is a statement about belief.  The second is about involvement in a group or body of people.

(library image)

Like many other religious affiliations, labels about us are messy.  People need wriggle room.  Things are not clear, even privately to each one of us, and less so when in community.

What follows are the reflections on the readings, from the person presiding on the day.

~~~~~~~~~~

Unitarians in the UK have a mixed lineage. The congregations we know today have varied histories and were born out of differing Christian traditions.  While it is not hard to find Unitarian people throughout recorded history, and indeed one could argue right back into the Bible, the actual Unitarian congregations we have today are reconfigured from reformed churches (for more explanation of reformed churches, see Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calvinism). 

To some now (and, I am sure, it has always been the case), what matters is the personal journey, the search for truth and the striving to live accordingly.  It is no surprise, then, that in both our readings the journey features strongly.  The road from Jericho to Jerusalem on which the journeyman was waylaid.  The road back from foreign lands to the father’s house.  The spiritual path is one that none can tread for us and one that is rarely strewn with palm leaves. 

But while each of us has a private, personal spiritual path or journey, we in Ringwood suggest that what distinguishes a Unitarian from a solitary pilgrim is someone valuing the experience of Church, of gathering, of being part of something; part of a bigger journey that gives a context for our own journey too.  

Without a coming together there would be no congregations, Unitarian or otherwise.  And that would mean there would be no place for those on their personal journeys to rest or find impetus to go further or change direction.  We who gather, often or occasionally, clearly see something of value in our congregations and in our wider movement.

In our first reading we encounter the journeyman in a bad way.  The road has been unkind; and far from making their way onwards autonomously they are in pain and in need.  We will all be in that position at some point, now and again.  Perhaps we will have seen things we cannot accept, or will have done things we cannot undo.  Perhaps we will have led astray people whom we care about; or perhaps we will have been oppressed by questions we cannot approach.  Life is tough, and our journeys through it have their dark places and blind corners, just like that road from Jericho. 

I don’t think it is by chance that the first two people who come along are church people; first, the equivalent of the Minister or Preacher, and second, the Music Organiser or Pulpit Rota Lead. These are good people, people needed in the making and sustaining of a congregation but, in this tale, they are busy on their own personal journeys.  They are visible and essential parts of a congregation, but in this story they do not demonstrate the characteristics of Church.  The story tells us they passed by on the other side.  And so we can see: we can have roles in a congregation, but yet be isolated individuals on private journeys, without being Church. The first reading, and my own heart, suggest this is not enough.

The third person comes along, and you need to picture this person as someone in your congregation who outwardly values very different things in congregation from what you value.  If you like silence, they’ll be the one who wants to discuss everything.  If you like energetic interactive gatherings, they’ll be the one who wants to stick to a sermon and song.  Whichever hymn book you like, they’ll love the other one.  You often find yourself wondering why you and they are in the same congregation at all.

This is also the person who doesn’t pass by on the other side. 

This is the person who puts you onto their own horse or donkey, the person who is aligned with you enough, who cares enough, to share with you what has helped them along the way. 

This is the person who takes the time to pay attention to your hurt and to do what they can to help you heal.

And this is the person, whose support of the wider congregation firstly allows you the space and time you need to heal, and which secondly allows you both to continue on your personal journeys at your own pace and in your own ways.

Our first reading doesn’t denigrate the vital structural roles and responsibilities in our congregations, but it does suggest to us what Church looks like in action.

In the second reading I see a suggestion for why we come together, not just what coming together could look like. 

I was wary of this second reading.  For myself, it is one that comes with weighty layers of imposed meaning, and that might be the same for some others too.  Bear with me.

I remember discussing this reading with some young monks many years ago.  One of them heatedly, and bravely, confessed that he understood the grudging resentment of the elder brother.  That he, too, sometimes felt frustration and injustice that others could come along and enjoy all the good bits of congregational life, whilst not putting in all the hard work and sacrifice that he had. 

It would be easy here to look, once again, at those with clear roles in a congregation  — or even those who just turned up gathering after gathering — and say that doing those things alone isn’t enough to make a Church.  There is no congregation without these people and, like for that young monk, the frustration of the elder son is always a risk on their personal journeys.  But that is not what I take from this second reading.

It is not what divides the older and the younger son that interests me.  It is the words of the father who would bring them together:

‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.  But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’

What can unite us, what has the prospect of bringing us together, is celebration; celebration of rising again every time we fall; celebration of finding a new way every time we hit a dead end. 

We come together to celebrate our personal journeys, united in hope for our way ahead.

I value the personal journey.

I value the camaraderie of the road.

I value those who give their time, their labour, and their resources to provide a place to rest and heal.

And I value the celebration of all of that.  I value the gathering together to sing into the darkness, to set lights ablaze and tell our tales of hope that we might make them true.

Is this what Church is for Unitarians?  I do not know for certain, but I hope there is something in this that you can value too.

A mixed group of Unitarians, some years ago.

A new beginning after COVID, with help from text messages, Isaiah and Mark — gathering of Unitarians in Ringwood 14 August 2022

What a joy it was to be together again, in the Meeting House, to be starting anew by meeting in person.  After a gap of two and a half years owing to COVID19, for us as a congregation this felt like a new beginning.  And though for each of us it will be different, we shared this new beginning.

Now, for first time blog visitors and regular readers alike, here is the periodic reminder.  We are not Bible scholars, nor do we hold that the Bible contains more or better quality wisdom than any other source.  What we say is that the Bible is where our forebears started; hence referring to the Bible can provide a shortcut to a shared understanding, as the same words and pictures have been re-interpreted in each generation, over centuries.

We say too that the practice of reading it with new eyes is something else we have inherited from our forebears.  We don’t start from “What is God saying to us through this text?” but from “What words has the author put together here and why (and what is the crucial influence of the translator)?”

And thirdly, we say that what the Bible may convey must be supported by our lived experience; and that this stance too we have inherited from our forebears.

Early Unitarian congregations and communities came out of Presbyterian congregations, Baptist congregations, Congregationalist congregations, and even Anglican ones. They were joined by individuals from many other backgrounds to boot. It wasn’t ritual, or theology, or even practical organisation that they had in common.  It was these three things:

The Bible, the drive for lived Truth, and the measures of reason and conscience as their guide.

These three taken together was what was new in their beginning.

In the early days there may in any case have been a shortage of other sources of wisdom to tap into.  The Bible may have been the only book seen and read.  It would have been natural for congregations to focus their attention on it.  

But now we face the diametrically opposed problem: there are so many sources of wisdom open to us, from cultures worldwide, that as we take each our own path of exploration, it can be a lonesome journey — and the concept of ‘an experience in common’ lies in splinters and shards.  Let’s face it, it’s hard enough to find someone to chat with about the same television programme last night  — we never watch the same things — how much more difficult is it now to have a shared ground to stand on when discussing deep matters of the spirit?

So though we value influences from all religious, philosophic, artistic, scientific, natural and just plain suburban sources, we hold that hanging onto the practice established by our forebears is a good and authentic rallying point.  Rallying — congregating — is what we are about.  We walk our own private paths between gatherings, but the whole point of a congregation is to congregate on a shared ground for mutual support.  So we tend to start from the Bible.

"We light our chalice-candle, invoking the divine light that shines in stars and suns and the bright eyes of a child. 

We light our chalice-candle to invoke the warmth that wakens the divine life in cold earth and cold hearts. 

We light our chalice-candle so we can see the divine beauty in a flower and the human beauty in courageous love

Amen"

 Spirit of Time and Place, Cliff Reed, pg. 29 (https://www.unitarian.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/2002_Spirit_Time_Place.pdf)

When we met on 14th August, our first reading was from the book of the prophet Isaiah chapter 61, verses 1 to 4.  What we heard were the words of the prophet, as recorded.

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me

    because the Lord has anointed me;

he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,

    to bind up the broken-hearted,

to proclaim liberty to the captives

    and release to the prisoners,

² to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour

    and the day of vengeance of our God,

    to comfort all who mourn,

³ to provide for those who mourn in Zion—

    to give them a garland instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness instead of mourning,

    the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

    the planting of the Lord, to display his glory.

⁴ They shall build up the ancient ruins;

    they shall raise up the former devastations;

they shall repair the ruined cities,

    the devastations of many generations.

Our second reading was from the book of Mark chapter 1, verses 1 to 11.  This is the story of John the Baptizer and his baptism of Jesus, as narrated by the poet-author we know as Mark.  Depending which translation you read, the first line is,

“Beginning of the good word of Jesus the Anointed, Son of God.  

“As is written in Isaiah the prophet, 'Look, I am sending my messenger before your face, who will prepare your road, the voice of a crier in the desert...', so John came along, bathing others in the wilderness and announcing the washing of a changed heart for the forgiveness of wrongs.”

Our president for the day reflected on the two readings he had brought to our attention, as follows.

“Over the course of the past few years we have been on a journey of new beginnings as a congregation and as individuals. We meet together today, in some ways different and in others the same as when we last gathered here. 

“One of the things that has flourished over the past two years has been a book reading group, by way of daily SMS text exchanges sharing thoughts and feelings around what has been read that day. We’ve read a variety of books together, but one stands out as having been a game changer for me. Perhaps we worked up to it in some of our other reading, perhaps other books helped remove some barriers first, but this book opened doors for me in a way I can’t help but want to share.

“It was a book I had read before, but I very much felt as if I was reading it for the first time. I had had clear ideas what the book was about and opinions about the author, but this time I realised how much I had assumed, how much I had taken onboard other people’s opinions and understanding without being aware of it.  So when I stopped reading it how I thought I was ‘supposed’ to read it, it suddenly looked very different and far more interesting. It was a new beginning.

“That book was the Gospel of Mark. Did you know that it has no nativity, no virgin birth, no Trinity, no Jesus as God-Man, and that it even stops before any Resurrection? 

“Did you know it is possible to read it simply for fun like a novel, to read it as an ancient tragedy play, to read it as a philosophical dialogue, to read it as a political commentary?

“Did you know you can read it and never once find yourself in Sunday School, or being told what it means or what you have to do?  I’m suggesting trying it.  Many Unitarians have personal histories with the Gospels and the Bible in general. For some of us, those histories are painful and complicated. So the Bible can be triggering as well as inspirational, but if you can do it safely it’s worth trying.

“The readings today are an offering of a shared new beginning for anyone who’d like to take up this suggestion." 

“Right from the opening lines of Mark’s Gospel we think we know what he’s talking about, because we’ve imbibed enough through our shared culture and personal religious histories to give particular meanings to ‘good news’ and ‘Christ’.  But let's rewind — we started with the earlier section from Isaiah, which was written much earlier.

“There in Isaiah we read of a good news that has nothing to do with redemption from sin or getting into heaven.  Nothing written there about Jesus.  Instead, we meet another ‘anointed one’, another ‘Christ’, showing us that this title is far more shared and far less narrow in its application — it’s not just Jesus who is denoted 'Christ', 'anointed one'.

“If we can read this very first line of the Gospel of Mark differently — if we can, straight away, start reading a different book from the one we thought we knew — what else can be different, what else can be new?

“Your reason will interpret what you find in Mark.  Your conscience will tell you what is of value and what you can happily forget. Your drive for a lived Truth will decide if anything there nourishes your spirit or changes your practical life.

“And maybe, by holding some images and stories in common as a community we’ll have a framework for ready expression of ideas, a place to start talking and sharing our personal insights. The aim is never that we all think the same, or that we limit the places we find inspiration and wisdom, but it's this: that here at our new beginning perhaps we can learn from our forebears’ shared new beginning.

“It’s an offer, a suggestion, no time limits, no tests.  I got a lot out of re-reading Mark as it’s written and not as I thought it was. Today’s readings start us off together.  Where any of us goes from here is up to them.”

Pentecost and church-building : Three necessary elements for a sustainable Unitarian congregation June 2022

(Postscript dated 9 Jun 2022:  This crosses over very neatly with a blogpost from last year by Francis Elliot Wright, which challenges us to think about what being "a successful Church" means.  You can find it here

https://unitarianchristianark.blogspot.com/2021/09/why-are-we-here.html?fbclid=IwAR2BZnIKuUldg7WKup2NKfSv1MlfCrM7ZuqnnuWN0_qxqVYsd7QqarG5k1s  )

On 5th June 2022, after a super online UCA service about Pentecost by Rev Sheena Gabriel, there was also a rich conversation.

I was asked by others to record a contribution I made, which is my personal assessment regarding the arc that may be experienced by someone coming to Unitarianism, and its link with securing the ongoing life of a congregation.  So, with thanks to Sheena, Ruth and Rob who were in the conversation with me, here goes.

It seems to me that it will be a very rare thing indeed for someone who has not in some prior way experienced a life of wondering about faith, someone who has not already been infused with some style of self-awareness or moral living or both, someone who has not had at least a little exposure to formal faith practice through their upbringing, to try out any kind of spiritual or church movement from scratch.  I know the marketing industry works on the basis that you can make people want something they previously didn’t know existed, merely through clever advertising — that a demand can be constructed from scratch — but we know how much money is involved in the marketing industry.  So let’s set aside the idea of trying to reach people who never previously considered spiritual or religious exploration.

Thus, in my view, a person trying out the Unitarian setting is initially looking for a new setting for their past experience of faith and spirituality — they are looking for something for themself.  A safer space.  A more welcoming space.  Perhaps a place to heal or even mend.

And what the congregation must offer them at that stage is just that : a something for themself.   A place where they can, perhaps for the first time, be openly honest.  A place where they don’t have to define themself in terms of specific doctrines.  A place where they can try out different versions of themself at different times.  A place where they are heard and seen but on their own terms.  A place where they can ground themself again.  Rest.  Space.  Air.  Light.  Warmth.  Time.  As Rob put it yesterday, a place where they can find the holiness of their own person.

The arc progresses.  After the time of healing and grounding, some (if not many or even most) will then find they reach a stage where that motion begins to reverse — where instead of absolutely needing something for themself, they have sufficient resources to want to start to give back.  This is where — perhaps for the first time, or for the first time in a long time — the community as a body assumes importance for our ‘newcomer’.  The co-creation starts.  The holiness of community begins.  The exploration about humility, about service to the community itself and to the neighbours in which the community sits, assumes importance.  The personal needs are met, now what’s next ? — the needs of the group.  At this point the congregation must offer someone a way to be integrated into the life of the community — but again, as on first arrival, it must be on their own terms.  And the community must show that the contribution of the ‘new’ person immediately changes the group : the group is now different and may need to look afresh at how it operates, and respond positively to queries about its aims and activities.  “Ohh!  Now we need a new plan!” should be a happy commonplace, not a negative shock to the system.  To use very old language, if we are to see the spark of the divine, the Christ, in each person, then the opportunity is there to “become new in Christ” each time someone new integrates*.

Then the arc matures.  The ‘newcomer’ may no longer feel that instinctive, emotional giving back is enough.  In my experience, most will want to understand the motives of the group for being a group at all.  What is this congregation actually about?  This is the bit where in my experience congregations can fail, and failure can be most drastic.  The Unitarian movement is not about peak experiences, whether that be in art, music, literature, intellectual study, science, logic and rationalism, meditation, prayer, humility, one-ness, social service, justice making, or self sacrifice.  It’s not about diversity for diversity’s sake.  It’s not even about inclusivity for inclusivity’s sake.  All of these things are essential, are absolutely necessary, but are not sufficient. What are they all for?  Why are we doing this?  Why are we doing what we do?

For me, the only satisfactory answer I have found lies in the book by Stephen Lingwood: Seeking Paradise - A Unitarian Mission For Our Times.  After long and careful thought, Stephen argues (and I agree) that we are seeking to build paradise on earth.  The word ‘paradise' wraps up all those necessary things previously mentioned, and more, but in itself is much bigger; too big to be contained in our minds.  We are looking beyond ourselves, beyond our concepts, beyond our self-image, beyond our own terms of explaining ourselves, indeed, beyond what we are capable of imagining.  We are not worrying about achieving results or about realism.  We are seeking to build regardless of our chances of success.  We are not worried about whether we survive the attempt.  We are seeking to build paradise because that is the only clean motive that makes sense to us.  We are here because of the holiness of the beyond.

And because we are Unitarians, and not inheritors of tradition from the Indian sub-continent or the Arabian peninsula, not direct inheritors of land-based, spirit-filled cosmology (Africa, North America, Australia and other places) nor of political philosophies and wisdom (China); because we are Unitarians, our myths and narratives in common come out of Christianity and sit in the context of western law and culture infused with the demands of the Jewish Ten Commandments and the directive attributed to the teacher Jesus — to love God and our neighbour as we love ourselves.  Because we are Unitarians, the paradise stories and images we come back to again and again are related to the wisdom that we inherit in the Bible.  Spiced up, of course, by fusion with other thought streams : we are truly people of our global times.

To be able to show that line of thought, that anchoring, to someone asking why we do what we do; to be able to point at that, our history; in my view that is the third necessary element that a congregation must be able to provide, for a satisfactory arc of growth of both a person approaching a Unitarian group, and that Unitarian group itself.

~~~~

So, if you ask me, the three elements that a sustainable congregation needs to provide are a safe space for healing (holiness of the person); a living, growing community working together (the holiness of community); and the ‘paradise-building’ purpose beyond itself, anchored in history (the holiness of the beyond).

* 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NRS) So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!

Hosting the Southern #Unitarian Association gathering on 1 June in the New Forest

Last Saturday, 1 June 2019, we were delighted to host the quarterly gathering of the Southern Unitarian Association.  At Burley Village Hall, nearby in the New Forest, we held a worship service and a drumming workshop for people who came from far and wide to be with us.  

The service was a flower communion, and it started with a Jewish anthem calling people to praise.  Everyone brought themselves to the circle of worship with a flower, which early on in the service was placed in a vase on the centre table.  We had words of gathering from Rev Andy Pakula and lit the Unitarian chalice candle while singing to a recorded chant by David Kent.  Our scripture for the day was from the Isha Upanishad v 1-6, speaking of the fullness of reality, the nearness of the ultimate reality, and the unity of reality.

We were reminded that our heritage as Unitarians means that we recognise there is no single, complete, entire, correct way to God.  The variety of the flowers in the centre was used as a metaphor for that.  And the meditation on the Names, shown elsewhere on this blog, was read aloud.

After some minutes of silence to listen to what was in our hearts, we had some readings.  The first was a piece by Rowan Williams on the need for stability, combined with the gifts of many different talents, if a church is to do the work of God.  The second was a poem (translator unknown) by Rainer Maria Rilke, suggesting the words God speaks to each of us as we are made.  We heard the song “Love, Serve and Remember” written and sung by John Astin, which is based on eastern teachings. (For more on John Astin and his associates see http://www.integrativearts.com )

We were invited to discuss with the person next to us our personal style of activism in the world, using the parable “Six Monks” (see here https://www.patheos.com/blogs/fieldnotesonliving/2019/04/29/the-six-monks/  )

Then we turned our minds to what the Southern Unitarian Association is - an association of congregations. So the SUA is nothing if there are no congregations.  We heard, responded to and reflected on the hopes, wishes and dreams for the SUA listed by those who were at the preceding SUA gathering.  And we were challenged by the following questions:

Why do we keep coming here?

Why do we keep going to our congregation’s gatherings

 and services?

Is it because we hope?

Is it because we get satisfaction? - if so, how and why

Is it because we get purpose?

Is it because we get clarity and order? - if so how and why

Is it a running away?

Is it a running towards?

Why do we keep coming?

Think about these questions yourself

Take them back to your congregations

Ask the same questions there

Only by sharing openly these big questions will we properly connect at a deeper level with each other

Only by sharing openly these big questions will we develop

 our congregations.

The worship closed with a meditation by Rev Tony McNeile, after which everyone collected a flower - a different flower - from the vase in the centre to take away with them.  We finished with a hymn from the green hymn book “Our Kindred Fellowships”.

Between the service and the drumming workshop there was a Climate Emergency lunch, all vegetable based, which was much enjoyed by all, whether or not they had previously eaten much vegan food.  Some of the food had been bought in from a vegan cafe in Christchurch https://www.goodintentionscafe.co.uk   There was also the opportunity to take a quiz online to assess one’s personal carbon footprint  https://footprint.wwf.org.uk/#/

The drumming workshop was led by Heike from Southbourne, and it fully lived up to its promise.  Getting absorbed in the rhythm, we found we really did stop using our thinking minds and instead went back to being creative in some unexpected ways.  Most enjoyable and thoroughly recommended. https://www.heikedrumshare.com

People felt they needed to express their appreciation for the day, so a collection was taken for the Ringwood Foodbank.

Joining up with our Unitarian neighbours

The prime things in the UK Unitarian movement are arranged around autonomous congregations.  But it only works because they keep closely in touch with each other.

Congregations first group together in district associations, before gathering together on the national scene.  For Ringwood, our district association is the Southern Unitarian Association, which operates over the central south of England and currently comprises Southampton, Portsmouth, Newport (Isle of Wight) and ourselves.

Delegates from these congregations got together for a business meeting on 6 June, and afterwards paid a happy visit to the Meeting House which long ago was owned by the first Unitarian congregation in Ringwood.  It's now owned by a civic charity, but we are able to hire it for our worship meetings.  The photo shows some of the people who were there.

May 2015 meeting

Our meeting for reverence and worship this month had a look at the Buddhist logic for compassion, and led onto some practical actions that we can take to develop our power of compassion.  These include actively responding, inwardly, when we notice the feeling of compassion arising in ourselves; focusing on that feeling and allowing it to develop, and not just ignoring it or fending it off.  Then the Tibetan Buddhist source reading reminded us that there are all sorts of excuses to not outwardly act on our feeling of compassion, but excuses are self-defeating – because one of the best ways to develop ourselves as humans is to work in the world for the well-being of other beings.  We were encouraged to appeal to our inner Buddha-nature, the archetype of the perfect human being within us, by using a little prayer, easy to remember and to repeat during our daily round: “Bless me into usefulness.”

We remembered that it’s not just professionally religious or theological people who teach us about becoming all of a piece with the universe: we heard some words spoken by Albert Einstein about the whole that is the universe, which includes us as parts, lost in our own delusions.  And we listened to a fresh, simple song by Paul McCartney, saying “it’s there, it’s round, it’s to be found in you, in me – it’s all we ever wanted to be.”

We sang two hymns, one about compassion; and the second, which may yet become the anthem for small Unitarian congregations, about how even the tiniest action makes a difference.  We had a period of silent personal practice, and we lit candles and spoke about our concerns and connections. It was good to hold in mind our neighbouring Unitarian congregations at Southampton and Bridport, whom we have visited relatively recently.

In our coffee discussion afterwards we started talking about an additional meeting format we might introduce in 2016.  Something at a different time, when buses are running in the district, and when there are lots of people around – perhaps coming out of work.  With conversation, and candles, and coffee/tea.  Perhaps based on pre-announced topics or perhaps just people bringing their own inspiration on the day.  We would want to hire the Meeting House for this.  We would need a catchy name for it, though – albeit utterly honest, “After Work Candles, Coffee and Conversation” might be just a bit too cumbersome !  We will be thinking about this new initiative over the next few months.

After the meeting we set up a collection point for Christian Aid to boost the Ringwood awareness of Christian Aid Week, and to build on our involvement with the sponsored swim that started on the evening of Saturday 9 May  https://www.justgiving.com/CTIR/   It was good to collect some more donations for this amazing effort organized by Churches Together in Ringwood, which went on right into the small hours of Sunday morning, and by the end was the equivalent of a cross-Channel relay swim.

May 2014 meeting

Our May meeting took place at the very start of Christian Aid Week.  The two readings that were chosen reflected a theme that is common to both ancient religion and modern science – the interdependency of humankind and the survival need to give mutual aid.  The first reading was from Isaiah 58 and the second was derived from material available on the world wide web on the influence of Peter Kropotkin.  Despite considerable difference in language of the two readings, both perspectives asserted it to be a truth that health, well-being, and the satisfaction of a meaningful place in the world are bound up in helping each other and seeking justice through breaking down of oppression and social barriers.

We looked forward, to working with other churches in Ringwood in the coming week, as part of the Christian Aid Week campaign to deal with the impact and aftermath of war in South Sudan and Colombia.  And also, to giving thanks in joint worship on 18 May in Poulner Baptist Chapel.

The invitation was extended to all the participants to choose readings for future meetings.  We also agreed that we now have a working core to our congregation and discussed our next initiative for growth, which is likely to take a different, drop-in format, early on Saturday mornings. 

How Unitarians make it happen

If you haven't heard of Unitarians before, you may be wondering whether it's new, or a cult, or foreign, or what.  A look at the theology link on Wikipedia and the BBC website will add to what is available on the UK Unitarians website history page.  What this blog and this post are about is how Unitarians in Ringwood would fit into the national scene for Unitarians in UK.