Good morning everyone. The fact that I join you virtually for this celebration of our membership, rather than in person, is perhaps fitting. Whilst my fellow trustees are with you in the meeting hall, I am speaking to you from sunny south-east London, from the same room where I now do much of my work.
For so much is ‘hybrid’ these days – work, home life, and now our services. A curious mix of being present but not present at the same time. Whilst this may not suit some, undoubtedly for others it provides benefits (certainly I personally am able to attend many more services now than I would have been able to in the past). And if there is any faith group that should be able to cope with change, with uncertainty, it’s ours!
In talking about membership I should start by briefly describing my own path here. My first experience of Unitarianism, or at least the principles that underpin it, came through reading the Evening Star newspaper (no longer with us) in the late 1990s – more specifically the letter pages where this chap called Cliff Read would occasionally send in contributions which made a lot more sense than the usual missives, commenting on current affairs in a way which showed compassion and thought. Letters which made you think "they've got something to say there".
It was these letters, and comments from a few enlightened friends, that caused me to tentatively stick my head around the door – over 20 years ago.
Since then I have barely lived in Ipswich. But the Ipswich congregation holds a special place in my heart, and always will. And I want more people to experience it, so that this congregation thrives and spreads joy and peace for generations to come.
Two quotes occurred to me as I considered ‘membership’, and what it means to us. The first, the famous Groucho Marx quote “I wouldn’t belong to any club that would have me as a member” well that certainly does not apply here – we welcome all, and any of the Marx brothers would be welcome here, Groucho, Harpo, maybe not so much Karl. Then again Karl Marx’s views on organised religion may well chime with some of ours!
The other quote that occurred is by that adopted son of our Town, the late Sir Bobby Robson, manager of Ipswich Town football club throughout the glory years of the 1970s. Sorry, how predictable of me to bring it back to football, but there are, I feel, some real similarities between the sense of devotion and collective experience that unites fans of a club and members of a congregation. What Sir Bobby said, an abridged version of which is written on the wall at the Portman Road stadium, a stone’s throw from where you are all sitting, is thus:
“What is a club in any case? Not the buildings or the directors or the people who are paid to represent it. It’s the noise, the passion, the feeling of belonging, the pride in your city.”
Now I’m not going to try to argue that the experiences are the same. If anything the blind loyalty of football, the noise, the tribalism is in many cases the absolute antithesis of what brings us here. But that sense of reducing something which has been complicated to a simple devotion, shared with a collective, and in many cases shared with people who have gone before us and those that will come after is there. That sense of belonging to something bigger than ourselves, and supporting each other.
We earlier reaffirmed our commitment as members of this congregation, in doing so acknowledging that “gathering for centuries seeking a higher purpose and deeper life than they could find alone…. you have decided to make a commitment to this faith community.”
But what is this faith community? Why are we here? To support each other certainly, but how do we look to support other groups outside our own?
We actively support local charities and do welcome the community into our meeting hall throughout the year.
We have a responsibility to encourage new members but also to widen the circle of our influence by building relationships with the other faith communities in Ipswich - the Christian churches, the synagogues, the Sikh and Hindu temples, the mosques. Living as we do in a multi-ethnic and multi-faith community, we might ask what we can do to make the Unitarian Meeting House feel like a spiritual ‘home’ for all?
I mentioned change earlier. Change is constant, and something we need to embrace. It's not easy of course - and there is nothing wrong in taking comfort in the familiar. At its best our traditions link us to those free of mind and spirit who have come before us, and root us in a shared sense of origin. If not careful however tradition can result in routine, a dullness of the intellect, a lack of the vital flame of spirit that is so essential to our faith.
Over the past few years as members of this congregation we’ve got used to change. A period of three ministers in relatively quick succession, and more recently a peripatetic leadership of services veering from the sublime (last week) to the ridiculous (chancers like me). In some cases a multiplicity of viewpoints and styles can bring fresh energy into a congregation, provoke thought and stimulate a more inquiring faith. The format of our services have remained relatively consistent, and that is something which perhaps can be re-considered in the future – and looking forward we need to be ready to make changes, if that is what is required to attract new members, and ensure we are a living faith.
It seems likely to me however that the lack of a regular minister will have an impact on the growth of membership of a congregation and its place within, and impact on, the local community. I come back to the reasons why I first came here 25 years ago, when I became aware of what Unitarianism actually was.
But we cannot rely on a minister to create that awareness. It's down to us, as members, to make people aware of this special thing we enjoy, that we create.
How good are we at promoting what we have here? Do we take every opportunity to tell people – friends, colleagues, strangers – about the existence of the meeting house and what Unitarianism is? When people come to an open day, even those who have lived in Ipswich most or all of their lives – or worked in the area – often they say ‘I didn’t know what this building was’ – let alone knowing what Unitarianism is. Even churches and church organisations don’t know. We get mixed up with the Quakers and United Reformed churches … so it's up to us to tell people that we exist.
‘Evangelical Unitarianism’ - it's a bit of a contradiction in terms, but it’s kind of what we need.
The etymology of the word “Evangelical” is explicitly Christian – derived from the Greek “good news” – “eu-angelion” - (and God knows right now in the world it feels like we need some good news!).
But in its modern sense 'evangelism has clearly entered the lexicon to mean more than simply spreading the “good news” of the gospel, but now can be understood, to quote the Collins dictionary, as simply an "ardent or missionary zeal for a cause”.
Now I am not proposing that we get together in pairs and start knocking on doors – which reminds me of the joke “what do you get when you cross a Unitarian with a Jehovah’s Witness - someone who knocks on your door to find out about your religion”.
But maybe we can learn a little from the more charismatic Christian church. Not their hypocritical didactic certainty, or their intolerance of deviation from some fairly arbitrary rules about who you can marry and so on. But there is a reason why membership of those sorts of church are growing in this country.
Personally I've experienced the genuinely welcoming nature of the reception that you get at many evangelical Christian churches. Right now there is a new(ish) Christian church, set up in the old Odeon cinema, with Hope emblazoned across its doors, that’s attracting hundreds of worshippers.
Contrast that with the noticeboard outside our own Meeting Hall. It looks fabulous, in its heritage colours. But does it bring people in?
Hope Church has a number of full-time employees, some purely focussed on marketing the church, with a lively presence on social media. Despite the best efforts of some in our congregation we currently have a small presence.
It's fair to say that our product is harder to sell. We can't offer a simplistic set of rules, a guide to explaining everything so that you don’t have to think. In this changing, uncertain world, certainty sells. But is our diverse liberal viewpoint not, to use some marketing jargon, our USP = our unique selling point?
In a fractured, uncertain and polarised world, where short-term materialistic impulses dominate public policy and discourse alike, there has never been a greater need for a community which seeks to show tolerance and provide a calm space for contemplation. The fact that we are welcoming to all, that you can express your personal interpretation of faith, that you can choose to worship what you might call God (or might not), with the support of like-minded people is a precious thing. That you can engage with some of the tradition, the ritual, of organised religion – but without having your personal views squashed or judged – that is a precious thing. Something which some of our forebears died for.
Our reasons for meeting here are multiple – people will be here for company, a sense of community, stimulating thought, the calming routine of ritual, and a chance to consider that which lies beyond our immediate perception.
Our reasons for membership are likewise. For me membership should fundamentally allow us authenticity - the ability to be ourselves, without shame. Membership of a group that supports us in who we are, and yet challenges us to think about who we want to be, as we make our individual journeys of faith. We all seek different things, and sometimes, some services, we get those things. Sometimes maybe we don’t. But it’s a safe bet that just by being here, by being members of this congregation, you're helping some people
We light a flame at the start of our service and extinguish it as we depart. But the reality is that it keeps burning and it is us, it is you, that keeps it going. The flame of truth, of inquiry, of justice, of love will not be extinguished as long as we continue to share it. May it ever be so.