Reflection #115 (28th December 2025 at Essex Church / Kensington Unitarians)
‘Roots hold me close, wings set me free’. So wrote Carolyn McDade, composer of ‘Spirit of Life’. What’s your relationship to roots and wings, I wonder? What do those metaphors suggest to you?
When we think about our roots, we might think of our family of origin, our culture or community, any traditions (including religious traditions) we were born into, and everything else we inherited as a result of that. Or we might think of being rooted in a network of relationships we’ve built up for ourselves over the course of our life so far – our chosen family, perhaps – the communities and cultures we’ve become embedded in, by choice or by chance, where we feel some lasting commitment, some sense of rootedness, belonging, or stability, an anchor in the storms of life.
Conversely, when we think about wings, we might think of the ways in which we’ve managed to strike out on our own – perhaps in defiance of our origins, and counter to what was expected of us – the ways in which we’ve transcended our inheritance, and gone our own way, in order to authentically express ourselves, fulfil our potential, and make our own mark in the world.
It strikes me that roots are somewhat bound up with the past, and wings are more future-oriented, and perhaps that’s why I was drawn to explore this topic at the turn of the year. Traditionally this is a moment when we look back and look forward – surveying where we’ve been and where we might be going next – and considering what we want to hold on to and what we are ready to let go of (as we did in the meditation earlier on). It’s a good time to take stock.
So where are we at with roots and wings? I want to acknowledge that both have a shadow side. And I also want to make the observation that lots of people pitch up in Unitarian community as adults precisely because they’ve broken away from their roots – rejected tradition, specifically their religious tradition of origin – but they still see the value of being part of something bigger. Nevertheless, a certain prickliness towards tradition, and squeamishness about religion, often lurks not far below the surface in Unitarian groups. A lot of us have trust issues in this regard!
And so perhaps we can be overly hung-up on the negative side of roots – it’s true, and it’s worth acknowledging, that tradition can weigh us down – being too beholden to the past, or to a community or cultural tribe, or a certain way of doing things, this can lead to stuckness, closed-mindedness, cliqueyness. We can become enculturated to old ways and shut off from the new.
At the same time I think there’s a tendency for Unitarians to think that we’re all about the wings! Much emphasis is put on the value of being free-thinking and independent. But we need to keep an eye on this too. If we lean too far in this direction it can easily slide into being individualistic, irresponsible, even parasitic (I know that’s a strong word). If we are so flighty that we never settle down, we can find ourselves skipping over the surface of life, never developing those deep bonds of association, connection, and mutuality, that can be so enriching. And never doing our bit to sustain those traditions, communities, and sources of support that we still nonetheless draw on. Interdependence is where it’s at, I say! We’ve already explored that in a few services this year.
So I suppose you won’t be surprised that we’re coming in to land in a ‘both/and’ kind-of place. Of course, we need both roots and wings – and we need to get the balance right – to integrate the best of both. We can draw on the treasures of tradition, honour the wisdom of the ancestors, and have an active and ongoing relationship with our community, discerning what still has meaning for us here and now (rather than reactively rejecting it or accepting without question). It shows appropriate humility to recognise that we have much to learn from others, especially those who have gone before us, and that we might do well to ‘stand on the shoulders of giants’. Yet at the same time we can remain open to change – to new grace – to evolution, revolution. And we can be that change – as we claim our own place in a living tradition – an ongoing line – as we spread our wings and make our own creative contribution to the unfolding story of humanity.
I want to close this very-mini-reflection with a short prayer, loosely adapted from the words of Nica Eaton-Guinn, and very much inspired by the hymn ‘Spirit of Life’.
Spirit of Life, God of All Love,
One of many names and no names,
Come unto us, for we know not what to do
about all the horrors and troubles of this hurting world.
We know not what to do for all those who are suffering this day.
Sing in our hearts all the stirrings of compassion;
Compassion for the oppressed and marginalised,
for all those who are scared, hurting, and lonely;
compassion for those who are sick and in pain.
Blow in the wind, rise in the seas,
as we listen to the stirrings of our earth,
and protect our beautiful planet that holds and nourishes us.
Move in our hands so we may give life the shape of justice,
through our attention, awareness, speech, and action,
that all may experience equity, freedom, and dignity,
Roots hold us close so we may feel a sense of connection
to our forebears and the living tradition we are a part of,
to this earth, and to one another, interconnected in all.
Wings set us free, so we may soar
with inspiration, creativity, and vision,
flourishing, growing, and fulfilling our potential.
Spirit of Life, God of All Love,
come to us, so we may be whole
and live lives of meaning, value, and purpose.
May it be so, for the greater good of all. Amen.
Reflection by Jane Blackall