Remembrance and Lamenting – online gathering for reverence November 2023

An eclectic selection of music was worked into the mix of this online gathering for reverence : a chant from the Taizé community, tracks from Johnny Cash and Billy Joel, a poem song from the musical Godspell and a hymn from one of the UK Unitarian hymnbooks, which together might appear to lend this service a cheerful sort of feel.  But actually this was a service about remembrance and lamenting, making reference to loss, anger and injustice along the way.

link to the Taizé chant, sung by the UUSM

The thrust of the gathering was about the repertoire of religious motifs we have, around which to organize our thoughts and emotions, our pain and our healing, when confronted with the griefs that have been around forever, and with the new catastrophes we are now newly beginning to suffer, as a result of our over-population and over-exploitation of the planet, and its peoples, over the last centuries.

Different religious motifs may be relevant to us at different phases of our lives, and in changing circumstances we may find those motifs changing.  

Our president for the day described how for many years Christianity had had little to say to her; but that was when she had perceived the world to be in stasis, with perhaps a general, gentle drift towards reduction in injustice and improved living conditions for all.  Having experienced a sudden change of perspective — which she described with reference to Adam and Eve eating the forbidden fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, in the biblical creation story — she reported how her previously comfortable and even complacent life had been exchanged for interior discomfort with the occasional sleepless night.  And she sees no prospect of any return to the previous complacency : like Adam and Eve, she feels she has left paradise for ever.  And that has changed her interior landscape with regard to Christianity.

The themes of remembering the war dead associated with the Meeting House in Ringwood, which until 1976 housed a Unitarian congregation; prophetic rage at injustice and wrongdoing; and personal complicity in both evil in general and environmental destruction in particular, were all wrapped in to what was a highly personal view on how to cope when lamenting seems to be the only rational response.

"O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and You will not listen?......Why do You make me see wrongdoing and make me look at trouble?  Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise......In Your wrath may You also remember mercy." (from the Bible prophet, Habakkuk)

Specific motifs that seemed to help our speaker were that of Shiva the Destroyer of Worlds (Shiva Nataraja) from Hinduism, and the crucified Jesus from Christianity.  Reminding us that one does not have to have a top-down theory, or theology, in order to enter contemplation via a religious motif, or to experience the love of God first-hand, she said:

“Shiva the Destroyer of Worlds is a very handy motif when reconciling my panentheism with the scientific, astronomical perspective, though it can also help when my interior world is demolished.  

This Destroyer motif points at a dancing, humorous transformation — a transmogrification — rather than an annihilation....But one limitation is that this motif doesn’t show me in the picture.  It heals through its logic, but not through the deep emotion of belonging.  

It offers a logic but no hope.”

Our president for the day then apologized that she needed the words of someone else to present her own position regarding the crucified Jesus.  She then quoted at length from Richard Rohr, a Franciscan monk, in his book Things Hidden — Scripture as Spirituality. 

To help with this report, our speaker reviewed the quoted passage from Rohr, and has highlighted three points crucial to her, when she contemplates the crucified Jesus, and the healing this motif offers in those wee small hours of sleeplessness :

"Firstly, in the Cross, we can explicitly feel ourselves being pulled in two directions; towards God’s goodness, and towards our own complicity in evil. This could tear us apart, which is a common suffering in daily living.

Next, contemplating the Cross, we are immediately in a state of ‘not alone’-ness.  We do not get onto our cross by ourselves, and on our own we cannot pull ourselves in two directions.

Finally, hanging without resolution, in the paradox of goodness and evil, on our own cross — holding the contradictions, sharing and participating in the redemption of the world, forgiving reality for being what it is — is a way of gift : the gift that, at least in us, everything belongs."

 

Hope and purpose in hard times - Ringwood #Unitarians hear from Amos and Jesus in December 2022

We gathered again in strength after a gap of some months, which was welcome and  which in itself led to a sense of optimism.  The gathering was invited to consider keeping a purpose clear in mind in times that to many of us seem difficult, in what might yet turn out to be a winter of discontent as a result of the cost of living crisis.

The opening music was an uplifting anthem, possibly from the LGBTIQ networks, “We give thanks in these hard times,” which can be found on YouTube at

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1JhiDsQNLo&list=PLuHoqBDN-aPLfCT9JMiG2AGqatHqYyC1N&index=1

(Unfortunately, the IT let us down after that, and we were unable to view the other video music that had been planned, which can be found at 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rw1j8QvtZZc&list=RDg2RBaN3uWOY&index=4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3E7QWLyDWe8  )

After the lighting of the candle in the chalice, we had a lovely story with the idea that the world can be fixed by fixing the humans within it; and then readings from the Bible.  The first was an arrangement of some words in the book of Amos, and the second was a compilation of words from the Gospel of Q and the Gospel of Matthew.

The president for the day reflected on the choice of the readings.

“Early Jewish religion may have overplayed sacrifice and ritual, because in that first reading we have a Hebrew prophet character, Amos, telling us that God does not care for rituals and offerings. In particular, we are told, God does not like them when they come out of a life of complacent luxury and indolence.

“We get a picture of God from this. We see that perhaps God is not looking for empty gestures but for our empathy for the sufferings and oppressions experienced by others in our midst. Looking for us to walk past our own comfort to relieve suffering and to root out injustice. ‘Let justice roll on like a river; And righteousness like an ever flowing stream.’”

the shepherd Amos as depicted
 by Gustave Doré
(public domain image from Wikipedia)

She went on by commenting on the recent COP27 climate conference, and how so little impact would be felt in the real world from the pitifully superficial nature of the agreements reached.  Unlike the prophet Amos, who spoke in terms of justice being a task that would roll on for ever, our speaker suggested that we will only have to carry the burden of this task for a few centuries more.  

We heard that many scientists estimate the breakdown of civilisation as we know it will be in about eighty years.  The threat is more from nuclear war than directly from temperature extremes; this because water and food scarcity will cause mass migrations on a scale so far not imaginable, and together with that, conflict and violence.  There has been almost nothing about planning for us to reduce instead of increase our demand, to use less energy, to want to use less energy.  Almost no recognition that in a finite ecosystem economies cannot grow without limit.  To be sustainable, civilization probably needs to operate at about 20% of the current energy usage levels — 80% less than we currently use. 

Our president said, “The end is rushing up much quicker than we ever thought it would. Though even a proportion of activists are in denial: we are in the end years, the decline years.

“When we truly recognize this, we have a choice. We can eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Or we can wail in hysteria, and wither away in despondency. There are many, many people who now suffer from what is becoming termed eco-anxiety. Or we can loot and pillage, knowing there will be none to come after us to hold us to account. Or, we can stand up straight, centre ourselves, and stand fast to the principles we stood for before we knew the painful truth.

“If the end of human civilization as we know it is getting closer and closer, isn’t that an even better reason to make those days which are left to us, the best days that have ever been? 

“Let us take inspiration from Amos and work even now to let justice roll on like a river, right up to the point where the river is no longer identifiable. Let us work to show those with eco-anxiety that there is a point to living, even in the end days. Let us live in hope beyond all reasonable hope, and live as well as we can.”

So much for the first reading.  And so far, it didn’t seem like much help was being given with what that hope or purpose in hard times might look like, on a daily basis.  Thankfully, our president didn’t leave it there, but went on to discuss the second reading.

“Realistically, what effect can we really have? What difference can we really make? Well: nothing can emerge on the human scene without it first appearing in the human imagination. Meaning that our first imperative is to use our imagination. Failure will be certain if we undergo a failure of imagination. And where do we hear about imagination? Well, in the gospel stories. We have words of Jesus, as Jesus was re-imagining Judaism.

“In the second reading, though we ourselves may be familiar with the words, they were new to those listening. Jesus is providing new and even shocking metaphors in order to re-imagine the kingdom of God. Look, he said, I know the prophets of old compared the realm of God to the famed Cedars of Lebanon, which were used to build the temple of Solomon in Jerusalem. Big; strong; solid; powerful; lasting; awesome, even. Actually the realm of God can also be like a tiny mustard seed which grows into a scraggly plant that most of you farmers consider a weed; but it’s a weed that provides shade and shelter for birds. The realm of God can also be like a yeast that seems insignificant but which changes the whole character of water and meal when you mix them all together.  

“And don’t think for a moment that you who seek the realm of God are unimportant just because you are as ordinary as salt. Without salt how would we preserve food, how would we live? Don’t you dare lose your essential character — if the salt stops being salty, if you stop being so ordinary, how would any society survive?

“Look, it’s hard keeping hold of your sense of direction, said Jesus, it’s hard sticking to this narrow path, and you mustn’t expect ever to be many in number because plenty will fall by the wayside as you go.  But you really are a light to light up the darkness. It doesn’t take many of you to do that. Just keep on keeping on.”

lamp on a stand and the
 growing mustard seed, by 
Johann Christoph Weigel
(image in public domain
 from Wikipedia)

We were reminded that Unitarians in the UK do all sorts of things that might not look very much, and we may not be very visible in our towns and cities, but for those who do come into contact with us we do make a difference.

“We are a gentle, angry people, highlighting injustice when we see it. But also we make provision for ‘mums and tots’ sessions. We house community fridges. We send disadvantaged and deprived children out into the wilds of the Peak District for life-changing adventures. We put a spotlight on the iniquities of the penal system. We fund some activities of the British Red Cross. We travel to Calais to speak with and provide practical support to migrants. We champion religious freedom in all its forms. Not so long ago we worked for greater equality regarding marriage. We make allies across boundaries and remind those we come into contact with that neither we nor they have the entire picture.”

We were then reminded that people in general very rarely fail in their endeavours.  More often, we just stop trying.  In looking for hope and a steering light in these times, we can use these ideas from Jesus to keep alive our imagination of what we can do, to keep us keeping on, working for the purpose of God as we understand it, as expressed by Amos: ‘Let justice roll on like a river; And righteousness like an ever flowing stream.’  Even unto the end of the stream itself.

Gathering for Reverence 12 June 2022 - Jesus and the Law and Prophets

Just in case you haven’t read any of our other posts, some are think pieces and some are reports of the gatherings we have held.

For those that are reports of gatherings we have held, it may appear that our gatherings are centred on the reflection given by the person presiding for the day (the president).  In fact, our gatherings are centred around a few bits of practice that we do together, of which only one is to listen to a reflection.  The other, perhaps more useful bits of practice are listening to music, singing, keeping a shared silence (for our own private purposes, such as meditation, decompression, prayer, cogitation), listening to words of wisdom that have survived thousands of years, reciting some agreed words together.  It is easy to see that a reflection by just some person who happens to be there at the time may actually be the least important bit of the whole proceedings.

So, when you read this blog, the reflection assumes an importance it might not really have.  And yet it’s all you have, if you’re not able to come to our gatherings.  I’ll just leave you with that conundrum.  Meanwhile, please take all the other activities as a given, as you have a quick read of what was said.

In the June gathering, we had two readings.  The first was from the Hebrew Bible, in the books of Deuteronomy and Micah (Deuteronomy chapter 5 verses 1-22 & Micah chapter 6 verses 6-8).  It can be summed up as a listing of the famed Ten Commandments, tempered by an observation by the prophet Micah.

The second reading was a combination from the Hebrew and Christian Bibles (Deuteronomy chapter 6 verses 4-5, Leviticus chapter 19 verse 18, & Mark chapter 12 verses 29-31).  This was basically one of the most famous and important sayings of Jesus, preceded by the Hebrew Bible sources that Jesus would have known and which he may have been making reference to.

And the reflection on these readings follows, with the normal caveat that the readings are being looked at, not as immutable words in a framework of belief that we all hold, but, as possible sources of inspiration in our ever changing position on shifting sands, as we journey on in our company together.

“Let’s notice that seven of the Ten Commandments are things God requires people not to do, contrasting with only two commandments being things that are to be done — which are honouring elders and the wisdom they bring, for survival’s sake; and having regular rest every seventh day, for well-being’s sake.  

“So it can be argued that this is actually a very liberal contract between God and the people.  It says that providing you use the handed-down knowledge, and care for those who bring it, provided you care for your own well-being, and providing you avoid doing the few other things listed, you can largely do what you like.  

“Micah, on the other hand, thought there was more to say.  Micah put a style overlay on top of the message that you must act in accordance with the rules: Micah said you must also be kind, be humble. 

“The first five books of the Hebrew Bible contain many other strictures and rules about living, rules which were largely aimed at some form of purity.  Purity of heart, purity of marriage, purity of the relationship between the tribes, purity of the priests who administered the sacred rituals, they go on and on. When we add onto those all the side commentaries, the rich interpretations, that the wise teachers living the Jewish faith added alongside the Hebrew Bible, it could be felt that the rules applying to Jewish people are actually anything but liberal, anything but simple.  Indeed, it could be felt as very constraining.  

“I remember a conversation in the 1990s with a friend, about a work colleague of his who was also a rabbi.  This rabbi was always being accosted by one or other of his congregants with questions — such as how one should eat a custard cream biscuit.  The story pivoted around the legalities of food mixing and food preparation.  As I understood it, the problem with a custard cream biscuit lies in its three-layered, sandwiched nature — biscuit, cream, biscuit.  I think I was being told that, being of different food types, the biscuit layers and the cream layer couldn’t be eaten together.  Worse, it seemed that it was legal to remove biscuit layer from the cream centre, but not to remove the cream layer from the biscuit .... The rabbi was no doubt exaggerating and having fun with his colleague (and remotely, me too), but he had made his point.

“So there were all these laws, which had accreted significantly by the time of Jesus.  It is attributed to Jesus that he said that he came not to sweep away the law and the prophets but rather to fulfil them (Matthew 5:17). Traditional Christians have taken this to mean that he — Jesus in his person, in his character, in his make up, in his very being — somehow is the very point of the law and the prophets.  That Jesus is somehow the bringing to life or fruition of the law and the prophets.

“Unitarians do not take this view. Perhaps that’s an outrageous generalization — I have heard very few Unitarians comment on what Jesus might have meant — or rather, what Unitarians think the authors of the Gospels might have had in mind when they attributed those words to Jesus.

“So might not the Jesus character have meant, 'Look! We already have the law and the prophets, there's nothing more to be given, by way of direct instruction.  But yet we all struggle with it.  Well, I've got a few ideas about what fully living within (not just the letter but also the spirit of) the law and the prophets might actually look like; what living devoutly in covenant with God might entail on a minute-by-minute basis.  I come not to sweep away the law and the prophets but to make your covenant with God fit a wider perspective and to make it more real in your daily lives.' ?

“Moreover, we see Jesus speaking in metaphoric terms, non-legalistic, non-precise.  'You do not light a lantern and hide it under a bowl.  You set it up on a stand where it will light the whole room.' (Matthew 5:15, Luke 8:16, Luke 11:33).  What was that supposed to mean to people who were used to hearing: on such and such a day you must do this and then you must clean the knife in this way according to the teaching of the certain rabbi and after you've done that you must pour the oil and set it aside in a container... etc etc etc. ?

“Again, this character Jesus is written so as to perplex people, with riddles, with stories about imaginary, unlikely characters.  For instance, a son who persuades his father, against all convention, to give him his birthright — his inheritance — early.  Who then squanders it all, yet is welcomed back again by the father (Luke 15:11-32).  This is an imaginary tale.  

“An outsider, an alien, someone normally shunned, is the only one who stops to help a severely mugged man at the roadside (Luke 10:25-37).  This is an imaginary tale.  

“A comment that unless you become as little children (Matthew 18:3) — “Did he just say we must be born again?” — you cannot encounter God. This is an impossible circumstance. 

“A comment that it’s more difficult to find the kingdom than it is for a cable to go through the eye of a needle (Mark 5:25-26, Jubilee Bible 2000).  “Then who can be saved?” asks an incredulous audience, for this is an impossible circumstance.

“These words of Jesus are not legal instructions.  These are challenges to move beyond the law.  To break out of our thought patterns.

“These are challenges to live a whole life, an integrated life, a life of one-through-ness, by way of dismantling our own assumptions about where justice and mercy lie in any given situation.  These are challenges to think about what it means in any moment to be in right relationship, humble and neat and clean and innocent before God.  Humbly walking with God, loving kindness, doing justice.

“Jesus may or may not have lived; he may or may not have been one person.  But, as written, he may be understood as the voice of a wisdom that demands that whilst we know the law of goodness, commitment and conscience we must know also the limits of that law.  A wisdom that demands we seek ever to move beyond law to that unique fulfilment, that ‘bringing to life’, which only we, each and every one of us, can live. 

“A wisdom that advises that we spend our lives challenging our own assumptions and our own behaviours so that we do indeed fulfil — not the law, but — what is pointed at by the law and the prophets.”

“To live is to care

may it be given to us 

to care

and when our need is greatest 

may care be also shown to us — 

not because we have earned it

through act of goodness or strength

nor because we have bought it

by virtue of wealth 

but because we nonetheless 

deserve it 

by grace of our 

nearness to holiness 

closer than the pulse in our own neck

that divine spark which we embody

our inspiration of that breath which we have inherited

that breath which unites us 

to one another 

and to all breathing creatures.”

Rev Jo James, Mill Hill Chapel, Leeds, 29 May 2022

Seek ye first the kingdom of God? #Unitarians in Ringwood gathering in May 2021

On 9 May 2021 we held our second gathering for reverence on Zoom, which took the topic “Seek ye first the kingdom of God”. After the welcome words, and the lighting of the chalice candle as usual, we were given some minutes of silence to privately focus in on what matters most to us and how we have lived up to that recently.

There were two readings from the book of the Hebrew prophet Samuel.

In the first reading the Hebrew peoples ask Samuel to institute a kingship and appoint them a king.  In the second reading we heard about the dilemma of Jonathan (servant to the king Saul and friend to David, of Goliath fame) when he was asked by David for protection against Saul.

Then there was a reflection on the two texts, and why they had been chosen to address the theme. There was a time for silent meditation; and then the opportunity to share intentions, concerns and hopes — during which tea lights and other candles were lit.

In the absence of any physical ritual that could be carried out together, Zoom allowed us to speak aloud together one of the formal set of words becoming traditional for the end of our gatherings:

We are aware, and we affirm, that we do not find our peace in the certainty of what we confess,

but in the wonder of what befalls us and what we are given;

that we do not find our destination in indifference and greed,

but in vigilance and in connection with all that lives;

that our existence is not fulfilled by who we are and what we possess,

but by what is infinitely greater than we can contain.

(Extract from 2006 Confession of Faith of the Dutch Remonstrant Church)

The reflection on the two texts against the theme “Seek ye first the kingdom of God” follows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Seek ye first the kingdom of God”

Jesus of Nazareth speaks often of this kingdom, and for some of us that resonates or intrigues enough that it warrants some reflection. But I haven’t chosen a single reading where these words are said by Jesus. Why?

A gathering of ordinary Unitarians
 (some years ago)

Firstly, and foremost, it’s because these words aren’t given special status merely because a specific someone said them. Unitarians don’t pay attention just because someone deemed to be an authority says something.  Today we are reflecting on “seeking first the kingdom of God” but not because Jesus said so.  We are reflecting on it because to someone in our gathering it meant enough for them to put it forward as a topic for our time together.

Secondly, the readings from Samuel place the words “Seek ye first the kingdom of God” which are reported to be words of Jesus (in the books of Matthew and Luke), within the context, within the tradition, in which Jesus was raised and lived.  Traditions are important to Unitarians, because Unitarians set great store on ideas being tested for meaningfulness in a succession of lives, in lived experience within a group.  Unitarians don’t generally ascribe to the idea of a revelation arriving as a form of words, some divinely dictated prose or poetry, containing unworldly secrets no one could otherwise know.  Even mainstream Christian groups recognise that words and ideas, the very language that forms the basis of all inspiring scripture, exists within a context, within a tradition.

Thirdly, I have chosen these readings because just as “seeking first the kingdom of God” was spoken within the context of a tradition, so too that is how we hear it. We too stand within a tradition, both as Unitarians and as people growing up in the West.  Our tradition is one of the Bible, its stories, its sayings, parables and psalms and associated hymns and carols, cribs and crosses; but also a tradition of Paganism and science (some of which rubbed off into Europe from the Islamic knowledge-base of the Moors), myths, pan-European history, art, architecture, customs, certain ways of doing things —  even our political system. Traditions aren’t ‘pure’; they’re not closed off.   In the Bible itself we find Canaanite, Babylonian, Greek, Egyptian, and Roman influences, images, and ideas. These were the cultures and worlds — the traditions — that the people of the Bible, including Jesus, moved in. 

We shouldn’t be surprised, then, that our Unitarian tradition is open to Hindu, Earth Spirit, Buddhist, Taoist, Muslim, Jewish, Humanist, and many many other influences. What makes a tradition isn’t its ‘purity’, or its single source: a tradition is made by having a living thread of continuity.  We are not adrift, we are not unfocused scavengers here and there: we have our tradition.  And the choice of readings helps reflect that.

“Seek ye first the kingdom of God”

In our first reading (1 Samuel 8: 4-22a) we find Samuel being asked by the people to give them a king. Since their escape from Pharaoh, and in the days before they went back into slavery, the Hebrews were a people under God, a people of extended families managing their own affairs, with Judges who would arbitrate using God’s law to decide between standpoints when it was less clear who was in the right and the wrong. 

That way was failing as the people grew more numerous and new Judges became corrupt, so the people asked for a king. 

We see the kingship, the kingdom of God being placed on the one hand, and another kingship, another kingdom being placed on the other. We see the people turn away from God, his kingship, and his kingdom.

What we don’t see is any talk of heaven, any talk of reward and punishment in a future life. The kingdom is “here and now” choices, “here and now” ways of living.  

The kingdom of God is presented in opposition to the kingdom where the king takes the best for himself and his servants, where the king takes away the best of the land and puts people’s sons and daughters to work for his benefit not their own. 

The kingdom of God isn’t offered as a future time and place, away from all the injustice and exploitation we see around us: it is a choice we are asked to make now, a way of living we are asked to embrace here. 

In this first reading it is clear that the kingdom of God, which Jesus the carpenter’s son asks us to seek, isn’t in the clouds — it’s in the dust of the everyday.  This would have been well understood; those who heard Jesus speak would have heard him within this context.  

Just the everyday life
 in which we are asked to seek the kingdom

If you are in any doubt, ask yourself why the Romans would condemn a man to death — the penalty for leading a non-violent rebellion against the state, against the Kingdom of Caesar — if all Jesus was talking about was heaven?

The kingdom we are seeking within our Unitarian tradition isn’t heaven, isn’t a place to defer justice to.

“Seek ye first the kingdom of God”

In our second reading (1 Samuel 20: 1-23) we have moved on a few years from the time when people asked for a king.  They were given King Saul.  But power, and possibly guilt, has slowly driven Saul mad, and the kingship is passing bit by bit to David. 

We join the story with Jonathan trapped in the middle. Jonathan’s father Saul is the rightful king, and Jonathan is bound to him by just ties of loyalty and filial love, but he is not blind. Saul is increasingly erratic and violent. Now David comes to Jonathan and asks for his help.

What David is asking could be seen as treason to the king, a violation of the laws of the kingdom, a betrayal of Jonathan’s father and the natural hierarchy.  But following the rules as laid down does not take Jonathan to where we leave him in this story. 

Jonathan pauses; and in that moment another kingdom breaks in, another rule of how to live.  Jonathan does not ask himself what the law says, or what custom dictates: he asks himself where does LOVE lead, what does RIGHT ask of him in this moment. 

Jonathan seeks first that other kingdom, that other way of living life, that kingdom of God. Yes, he knows the rules of the world he lives in, the laws of cause and effect, and he is not blind to what his choices could mean for him; but FIRST he asks himself what is RIGHT, what is LOVING, and then decides his course in this world, here and now. 

The kingdom of God isn’t an easier option we could follow instead of living in the real world; the kingdom of God isn’t a realm where we get to make well-intentioned choices and be free of any difficult consequences. 

What is right, what is loving, means nothing if nothing changes; it means nothing if things get worse while we wrap ourselves in good intentions. 

First, we make space for God’s kingdom, the rule of right, the rule of what is loving, then we make our choices to make that present in the here and now. Every time someone does that seeking, that kingdom is a little closer at hand for all of us.

Within our Unitarian tradition we can hear that call, we can make our choices; not adrift from the needs and the realities of the world, but here and now. 

The door to a fairer better world for all may be closed but we can knock; the way to Paradise may be lost but we can seek. The kingdom is always at hand.

“Seek ye first the kingdom of God”.

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