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“Welcome home, gather ‘round / All ye refugees, come in” – words from the Christian singer-songwriter, Sandra McCracken. I suspect she’s channeling the ancient Hebrew moral principle expressed in one of God’s many commandments to the Israelites after their Egyptian exodus: “You shall not wrong or oppress the alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt;” expressed even more succinctly in the words of Jesus: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”   Our ministry theme for February is inclusivity . I’m going to preach two sermons on this theme. As you may anticipate, I have a lot to say. It is no secret that asking and attempting to answer questions about inclusivity within our congregation and within Unitarian Universalism more generally–questions about our welcome, our hospitality, our culture, our ways of navigating human differences and the complexities of human identities, our ways of forging and sustaining relationships in the wider community, our ways of building the beloved community–all of it is foundational to my call to ministry.  What I know to be true about Unitarian Universalists is that we want and expect to grow an inclusive faith. We want to offer an expansive welcome and robust hospitality; we want and expect to be generous, caring and compassionate toward each other, toward visitors and newcomers, toward strangers, toward the other, toward those who think, feel and believe differently, toward those who live on society’s margins, toward the immigrant, the alien, the refugee. In words adapted from the ancient Sufi poet Rumi, we sing: “Come, Come whoever you are, wander, worshipper, lover of leaving, ours is no caravan of despair. Come, yet again, come.” This desire for an inclusive faith lives at the heart of our first Unitarian Universalist principle, “the inherent worth and dignity of every person,” our third principle, “acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations,” and our seventh principle, “respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.” It lives at the heart of the new Unitarian Universalist values: generosity, pluralism, justice, transformation, interdependence and equity, with a deep and abiding love at the center.  We want and expect to grow an inclusive faith. I know this to be true. This wanting, this expecting has always animated and guided my ministry., and I have no doubt it always will. “Welcome home, gather ‘round / All ye refugees, come in.” It’s also no secret that my formation as a minister in the 1990s included extensive training as an anti-racism educator and organizer. That training has deeply shaped who I am, not only as a minister but as a human being. I wouldn’t be the person I am without that training. I wouldn’t be the minister you have put your trust in to guide you as a congregation over these past 23 years without that training. It has shaped and continues to shape my approach to questions of inclusivity, welcoming, hospitality, engagement with the wider community and social justice activism.  It’s also no secret–and this is the final non-secret I will share–that over the last decade, though really since 2017, the Unitarian Universalist Association–its staff and volunteer leadership, many of the clergy (myself included) and the General Assembly–have been exploring and articulating in earnest the ways in which current Unitarian Universalist culture and institutional structures actually limit our inclusivity, limit our welcome, particularly our welcome to people of color, queer people and people with disabilities. Now things are changing. Certainly the new Article 2 of the Unitarian Universalist Association bylaws emerged , at least in part , in response to this desire to address those institutional structures and aspects of our culture that work against greater inclusivity. And as things change, inevitably some feel alienated. Certainly many members and friends of this congregation have felt alienated by trends in the larger world of the Unitarian Universalist Association these past few years. I want to speak more directly to that sense of alienation in next week’s sermon, in part because I am hopeful, though not quite 100% positive, that we will be able to share the final report of our UUA Discernment Taskforce with the congregation later this week. There’s a recommendation in the report that in my mind speaks directly the way anti-racism has been centered in national Unitarian Universalist life and what it actually means. As prelude to that, I want to review some UU history without which  I can’t understand–let alone explain–who we are as a people of faith at this moment in time. The changes we’re experiencing have longstanding roots.  From the earliest days of the UUA, which was founded in 1961 through the merger of the American Unitarian Association and the Universalist Church of America, individual UUs, UU congregations, and our UUA headquarters in Boston have been wrestling with issues of inclusivity. Racially, ours is a white denomination, so there were huge questions in the beginning about how to be more inclusive to people of color. Like most mainline Protestant denominations in the 1960s, ours was male-centered. I don’t have exact numbers, but out of the approximately 1,000 ordained UU ministers in the 1960s, 12-15 of them were women. GLBTQ people were present but essentially invisible in that era. People with disabilities, present but invisible. Poor people, present but invisible. But at least some of our forebears in that era were aware of these exclusivities. Since our founding, one of our central questions has always been, “how do we make our congregations and our culture more welcoming to and inclusive of people from marginalized social groups, i.e., people of color, women, people with disabilities, children and youth, elders, eventually gay and lesbian people, and in later years, bisexual, transgender and non-binary people? A deeper question has always been both implicit and explicit: how do we make our historically white (male, heterosexual, etc.) congregations accountable to people in these marginalized groups and their institutions? How do we make space? How do we share power? How do we provide funding? How do we center voices from the margins? Although we may ask these questions differently today, these are not new. They’ve been with the UUA since its founding. March of 1965 was an important moment. As I described last month, Martin Luther King, Jr. called for clergy from around the country to join him for the voting rights march from Selma to Montgomery, AL. More than 500 Unitarian Universalist clergy and lay people heeded the call. For me, this is a shining example of antiracist accountability.  There were also abject failures of antiracist accountability during those early years. I’ve spoken elsewhere about the so-called Black Empowerment controversy of the early 1970s–which some have renamed the White Entitlement controversy. Suffice to say, failures to deliver on financial promises to the UU Black Affairs Council plunged the UUA into a crisis over race and racism. Black UUs and their allies felt betrayed and abandoned. Many left and never returned. Institutional change has never been easy.  In the late 1970s Unitarian Universalism experienced powerful internal organizing aimed at reducing sex-based discrimination within our faith. The 1977 General Assembly’s “Women in Religion” resolution opened the door to women having equal access to leadership positions in all aspects of UUA life, including theological education, ordination, and ministerial roles. Although that work is still ongoing, the initial decades of antisexist organizing were so successful that by the mid 1990s, the UUA had achieved gender parity among its clergy. As far as I know, the UUA was the first mainline denomination in the world to achieve gender parity among its clergy. It brings joyful, proud tears to my eyes as I speak these words. I fondly remember dear colleagues (some deceased, some still living) who participated in or led that work of smashing the glass ceiling in UUism. Knowing them, I am immensely proud to call myself a Unitarian Universalist. We all can be proud of this success.  Similarly, during the 1980s and early 1990s Unitarian Universalism experienced powerful internal organizing aimed at educating congregations about the realities of gay and lesbian life, how to welcome gay and lesbian people into our congregations, into congregational leadership, and into the ranks of the clergy. (The work expanded to include transgender and non-binary people in later years.) Oftentimes we refer to that organizing by the title of a signature UU educational curriculum, The Welcoming Congregation . That work, also, is far from complete. But the fruits of its success are abundantly clear in the high numbers of GLBTQ+ people who participate in UU congregations today as members, leaders and clergy. I believe the United Church of Christ reached key milestones in ordaining gay and lesbian people and launching its ‘Open and Affirming’ ministries before the UUA, but we were right there with them, among the first in the world, to prioritize and fund a commitment to dismantling institutional heterosexism and welcoming gay and lesbian people. It brings joyful, proud tears to my eyes to name this success out loud. I fondly remember dear colleagues (some deceased, some still living) who participated in or led the Welcoming Congregation  work in its early years. Knowing them, knowing their stories, I am immensely proud to call myself a Unitarian Universalist. We all can be proud of this success.  I started working at the UUA in the spring of 1992. Almost immediately I noticed a robust conversion about racial and cultural diversity. I heard the argument that we could no longer rest on our  Civil Rights movement laurels.  Racism was still with us, and Unitarian Universalism was still too racially and culturally White. That June, the General Assembly passed a resolution entitled “Racial and Cultural Diversity in Unitarian Universalism.” It  affirmed a vision of a racially diverse and multicultural Unitarian Universalism.” However, the architects of that resolution understood that having a vision is not the same thing as having a strategy. They understood that achieving the vision required a strategy for anti-racist educating, training and organizing. So, in 1997, the General Assembly passed a new resolution entitled “Toward an Antiracist Unitarian Universalist Association,” which called on UUs “to examine carefully their own conscious and unconscious racism as participants in a racist society, and the effect that racism has on all our lives, regardless of color.” It called on the [UUA] and its congregations “to develop an ongoing process for the comprehensive institutionalization of anti-racism and multiculturalism, understanding that whether or not a group becomes multi-racial, there is always the opportunity to become anti-racist.” It called on   all UU leaders, ministers, religious educators, governing boards, [UUA] staff, theological schools, and future General Assemblies “to engage in ongoing anti-racism training.” And it encouraged UUs “to enter into relationships of sustained engagement with all people of color with a goal of opening up authentic dialogue [on] race and racism. Such dialogue should also include how to appropriately honor and affirm the cultural traditions of … people of color.” At that same General Assembly, delegates also passed a resolution entitled “Accessibility for Persons with Disabilities,” which called on the UUA to undertake “an aggressive plan to address accessibility within the Association for people with disabilities,” and to act as an advocate “for the human and civil rights of people with disabilities both within i[the UUA] and globally.” I was there in 1992. I was there in 1997.  Mindful of the changes that were already underway in terms of women’s leadership and the welcome to gay and lesbian people, I watched our faith, using our democratic process, make profound commitments to increasing inclusivity in our national offices, our congregations, our culture, and among our religious professionals. I watched our faith make these commitments to the dignity and worthiness of all people. I fondly remember dear colleagues (some deceased, some still living) who participated in or led this work. Knowing them, knowing their stories, I am immensely proud to call myself a Unitarian Universalist.  As an aside, this tradition of passing resolutions to express our collective desire for a more inclusive faith continues to this day. At the most recent General Assembly this past June, delegates overwhelmingly passed a resolution entitled “Affirming Transgender, Nonbinary, Intersex and Gender Diverse People is a Fundamental Expression of UU Religious Values.” which concludes “We hereby pledge our collective faithful efforts to the full affirmation and celebration of transgender, nonbinary, intersex and gender diverse people within our congregations and the wider community, and uphold this commitment as a fundamental obligation revealed by our principles and values.” At some point I plan to dedicate an entire service to exploring this resolution.  Peering back to the 1990s, those resolutions on racial and cultural diversity, antiracism, and accessibility were starting points for what we then called the Journey Toward Wholeness. It’s a long journey. The work of increasing inclusivity has been immensely difficult. It has gone more slowly than many of us had hoped in the 1990s–though we did talk about a 30-year plan then. Despite the challenges and set-backs we’ve encountered over the years, despite mistakes and unskillfulness, despite tension and conflict, I still know this truth: We Unitarian Universalists want and expect to grow an inclusive faith. We want to offer an expansive welcome, a robust hospitality; we want and expect to be generous, caring and compassionate toward each other, toward visitors and newcomers, toward strangers, toward the other, toward those who think, feel and believe differently from us, toward those who live on society’s margins, toward the immigrant, the alien, the refugee. It’s a beautiful vision and we are still called to pursue it.  Amen and blessed be.

Early February GHIAA Legislative Issue Updates UUSE works with the Greater Hartford Interfaith Action Alliance on a variety of social justice issues. Here are some updates on issues GHIAA and UUSE are addressing in the 2025 legislative session. Expansion of Just Cause Eviction Protection The State of Connecticut currently extends Just Cause Eviction protection only to people with disabilities and people 62 or older. Other people may be evicted for no reason at all. A measure being proposed during this legislative session would expand eviction protections   to all   renters in buildings with more than five units. Landlords would have to provide a reason — for example, a lease violation or a failure to pay rent — in order to evict someone. The Connecticut Mirror  (Jan 23, 2025) noted: Supporters say the measure would protect tenants who complain about conditions on the property and prevent situations in which a new property owner might evict multiple tenants in order to raise rental rates. They also said with rising rents and a lack of housing across the state — particularly housing that’s affordable to people with low incomes — eviction protections could help keep people housed. In late January, the Housing Committee voted to support the concept of Just Cause and drafted a committee bill on this subject. We anticipate that there will be a public hearing for this bill in February or March with opportunities to submit written and oral testimonies. Fiscal Policy/Moral Budget CT is a wealthy state with billions of dollars stockpiled as surplus. Yet we are starving essential services of necessary resources in order to overstuff our reserves. Analysts have reviewed the Fiscal Roadblocks creating the imbalance and they’ve identified the Volatility Cap and the Spending Cap as primary offenders. These measures are misaligned. The Rainy Day Fund is projected to reach nearly $4.7 Billion or $21,1% of the net General Fund. That equals billions blocked from being reinvested into vital and lifesaving services like special education, mental health services, and care for senior citizens.  In late January, a bill was proposed that would enact some fiscal policy reforms. Many of the representatives who were present at the GHIAA Power Summit in Nov. 2024 are among those who introduced this legislation. GHIAA is currently analyzing this proposed legislation. Next steps will be forthcoming. HUSKY for Immigrants The HUSKY for Immigrants campaign is seeking to ensure that all income-eligible people, regardless of immigration status can access HUSKY, the state’s Medicaid program. So far, children up to age 15 and pregnant people are covered. This legislative session, the campaign is seeking to extend coverage to persons up to age 26 and age 65 and over. Two bills have been introduced. Public hearings are likely in late February and there will be opportunities to submit written and oral testimony.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude  “Swimming to the Other Side” By Pat Humphries Jennifer Richard, vocals and guitar Chalice Lighting and Opening Words  Excerpt from “The Hill We Climb” By Amanda Gorman Opening Hymn      #188 “Come, Come, Whoever You Are” Words ad. From Rumi,  Music by Lynn Adair Ungar Come, come, whoever you are, wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. Ours is no caravan of despair. Come, yet again come. Time for All Ages Song #1023 “Building Bridges” Words: The women of Greenham Common peace occupation in England, 1983 Music: Contemporary English Quaker chant Building Bridges between our divisions, I reach out to you, will you reach out to me? With all of our voices and all of our visions, friends, we could make such sweet harmony. Joys and Concerns  Musical Meditation Offering We do not gather our gifts only for ourselves but to share with the larger community. Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of February will be shared with Manchester’s African American and Black Affairs Council.  Offering Music  “All Ye Refugees” Jenn Richard, guitar and vocals by Sandra McCracken Sermon “On Inclusion, Part I” Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #155 “Circle Round for Freedom” By Linda Hirschhorn Circle 'round for freedom, circle 'round for peace, for all of us imprisoned, circle for release, circle for the planet, circle for each soul, for the children of our children, keep the circle whole. Extinguishing the Chalice  Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the Community of Earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come

Our spiritual lives mirror the changing seasons.             Our spiritual lives take cues from the changes between seasons and the changes within each season—changes in the light, in the proximity of Earth to Sun, in the angle of Earth toward Sun, in temperature, in color, in the land, in the wildlife, in the night sky. All seasonal changes serve as prompts for our spiritual reflection, practice and growth.             Our spiritual winters are for rest and nurture, gestation, germination. They are womb times, dormant times, tomb times, inward times, dream times, seeds-in-the-soil times. As our spiritual winters conclude, we are purified, strengthened, healed, fresh, new, ready to emerge, ready to break through, ready for rebirth.             Our spiritual springs are for rebirth and rejuvenation, bursting forth, rising up. They are fertile earth times, red-buds-on-branches times, green times, warming times, awakening times, resurrection times, planting and sowing times, passion times. As our spiritual springs conclude, we are fully alive, alert, ready for life, ready for engagement, ready to meet challenges, ready to struggle, even looking forward to struggle.             Our spiritual summers are for exploration and play, invention and innovation, learning and growth. They are creative times, work times, vocation times, fully awake times, venturing out times, Sun at our back times; times for testing boundaries, times for wandering along our growing edges. As our spiritual summers conclude, we find we have matured, grown in wisdom, deepened our understanding of who we are and what matters to us. We are ever more mindful of realities and mysteries larger than ourselves, the meanings of which we may never fully grasp.             Our spiritual autumns are for harvest, settling in, winding down, letting go. They are ripening times, reaping times, falling leaves times, waning and decay times, barren times, preparing the fields for winter rest times, reckoning with death times, thinning veil times, remembering-the-ancestors times. As our spiritual autumns conclude, we recognize and accept the limits of our living, we recognize the preciousness of life all the more because we know we must in time let go, let go, let go, return, return, return to rest, to sleep, to unknowing, to the sweet embrace of the eternal.             This is my way of describing generally how our spiritual lives mirror the changing seasons, my way of naming at least some of the spiritual prompts and cues embedded in the seasons and the transitions between them—there are many more. I would be remiss if I did not point out that my description of our spiritual seasons is not universal. I’ve spent almost my entire life in New England where every year we experience four distinct seasons. I respond spiritually—as I know many of you do—to the beauty and movement in each season and the transitions between them. But these responses do not always travel well. They don’t make as much sense at the Equator or in regions of the world where, for example, there are two predominant seasons, rainy and dry. I say “our spiritual lives mirror the changing seasons” because I like the sound and feel and truth of that language, but for some it may be more useful to say, simply, “our spiritual lives mirror the patterns of the earth;” or “Our spiritual lives mirror the changes in the land;” or “our spiritual lives mirror the movements of the night sky.”             Having said that, here we are—those of us who are physically present—at our Unitarian Universalist Meeting House atop Elm Hill on the Manchester/Vernon line, east of the Connecticut River, approximately 41.7 degrees north of the Equator, which puts us well into a region of the Northern Hemisphere where four, discrete seasons grace us through the cycle of each year with their distinctive spiritual prompts and cues. Here we are, but more than that, here we are on this auspicious day, February 2nd, a cross-quarter day, the halfway point between the winter solstice and the vernal equinox; still a winter day based on our calendaring system, but a day for turning in the midst of winter toward spring. If our spiritual lives mirror the changing seasons, then this day—and really this time of year—is a time to turn, a time to sense a shifting (as one of you said this week) all around us, and deep within us. If our spiritual lives mirror the changing seasons, then how are you turning? How are we turning? And more specifically, in the midst of spiritual winter—rest, nurture, gestation germination, the womb, the tomb, dormancy, sleeping, dreaming—how are you beginning to turn toward spring—rebirth, rejuvenation, resurrection, bursting forth, rising up, fertility, passion, warming, greening, awakening, planting, sowing seeds and so on? How are you getting ready for spring? How are you preparing? How are you marking the transition at this cross-quarter moment?             I ask because I sense there is something deep within us and very natural—an impulse, an instinct, a yearning, a longing—that wants to turn at this time of year. I suspect this ‘something deep’ emerges out of our ancestral relationships to the land, the earth, the seasons, the cycles of sun, moon and stars. I see it manifested in myriad religious and cultural traditions, celebrations and observances that happen at this time of year and focus on spring, fertility, purification, cleansing, preparing the ground, expelling the old and inviting in the new. Here’s a quick run-down:             Groundhog Day—an ancient tradition with northern European agricultural roots using animal divination to peer toward spring, to predict its coming so that farmers could prepare the ground for planting at the proper time.             Imbolc—the traditional cross-quarter Celtic/Gaelic festival, which many contemporary pagan communities have reclaimed; typically celebrated on February 1st or 2nd, Imbolc translates roughly as ‘in the belly,’ a reference to pregnant sheep. It is associated with the Celtic goddess Brigid, goddess of fertility, poetry, healing, smith-craft and sacred wells. Practices include the lighting of candles and bonfires, rituals of purification, spring cleaning and setting intentions. The Goddess Brigid became the Christian St. Brigid, whose Feast Day in Ireland was celebrated yesterday, February 1st. Also in Christian tradition, today is Candlemas, at which churches bless and distribute candles, symbolizing Jesus as the “light of the world,” and reputed to have healing properties. Candlemas emerged in the fourth century, an evolution of more ancient Jewish and pagan purification rituals. It celebrates the presentation of the baby Jesus at the temple, and also the purification of Mary, as she was not allowed to enter the temple for six weeks after giving birth—she was deemed by custom to be impure until then. To me it is no coincidence that the New Testament narrative of the infant Jesus’ life is grafted precisely onto the motion of the earth around the sun, and that a Christian ritual of purification happens at this moment when human beings very naturally turn toward spring. I’m just getting warmed up. Ancient Romans observed Lupercalia on February 15th, a fertility celebration featuring purification rituals, animal sacrifices, matchmaking and fertility blessings for young couples. Lupercalia is associated with the God Lupercus, a protector of farmers and shepherds, flocks of sheep, harvesting  and packs of  wild animals . Pope Gelasius I, replaced Lupercalia with St. Valentine’s Day in the fifth century. Some say—and it seems intuitively correct to me—that while there is no modern observance of Lupercalia, its association with fertility and matchmaking lives on Valentine’s Day. Peering eastward, the Chinese Lunar New Year, also known as the Spring Festival, begins with the first new moon following January 21, which was this past Wednesday, the 29th. It’s a massive, multi-faceted holiday with ancient agricultural roots. It emphasizes family, ancestor worship, feasting, prosperity, good fortune, along with sweeping out the old and welcoming in the new. I’m aware of, though not very familiar, with the Japanese festival of Setsubun, which, this year, happens today, February 2nd, and marks the day before spring in the traditional Japanese lunar calendar. It features a ritual scattering of roasted soy beans around homes, temples and shrines. The ritual is said to drive out evil spirits and draw in happiness. I’m aware of, though not very familiar, with the Hindu festival of Basant Panchami, which, this year, also takes place today, February 2nd. This festival marks the onset of spring, and is dedicated to Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom, knowledge and arts. Though it is celebrated in many different ways, I see references to wearing yellow, flying kites, and offering prayers to the goddess. People place books, musical instruments and pens on her altars. Finally, Tu BiShvat, the Jewish New Year of the Trees, takes place on the 15th day of the Hebrew month of Shevat (February 12th this year) and marks the season when the trees in Israel begin to bloom and bear new fruits. It is not an ancient festival but was an important date for Jewish farmers, a guide to knowing when to begin planting. Today it is associated with environmentalism and being kind to our planet. Our spiritual lives mirror the changing seasons. I’m naming all these festivals, celebrations and observances because I believe they manifest a deeper, natural human need, impulse, instinct, longing, yearning to turn in some way at this specific time of year: to turn toward spring even though winter still blankets the land; to anticipate the thawing ground which is, right now, frozen; to turn and let our turning purify, cleanse and heal; to turn, and in so doing, to make ourselves ready for new life though it is still, on this day, “in the belly;” though it is still, on this day, beneath the surface, hidden, waiting. I have an assignment for you. I don’t want you to think about your own turning. I don’t want you to contemplate what it is you are turning toward. I don’t want you to name it. The naming will come. The knowledge and awareness will come. If our spiritual lives mirror the changing seasons, let us be mindful that right now our season is winter —the resting time, the womb time, the dormant time, the dreaming time. It’s not a time for consciousness, not a time for thought, not a time for reasoning. My invitation to you is to mark this cross-quarter moment with a ritual. I have three proposals. First, at some point today, or in the next few days, light a candle and sit quietly by it. If you’re really adventurous, light a bonfire, and sit quietly by it. Though if you’re truly adventurous, and sufficiently able-bodied, you can dance around it. Let the fire speak to the resting, dormant, dreaming part of you. Let the fire reveal the way in which you are called to turn. Don't bring your thoughts to the fire. Let the fire bring the thoughts to you. If fire doesn’t appeal to you, then second, clean the most cluttered room in your home. Organize it. Create space that wasn’t there before. Lose yourself in the process of cleaning. Let the process of cleaning speak to the resting, dormant, dreaming part of you. Let the process of cleaning reveal the way in which you are called to turn. Don't bring your thoughts to the cleaning. Let the cleaning bring the thoughts to you. If your home is already immaculate, then third, engage in some creative act, mindful that Brigid is, among other things, the goddess of poets and smiths; mindful, perhaps more distantly, that Saraswati is a goddess of the arts. Let the muses speak through you. Write a poem. Engage in a craft. Let the creative act speak to the resting, dormant, dreaming part of you. Let the creative act reveal the way in which you are called to turn. Don't bring your thoughts to the creative act. Let the creative act bring the thoughts to you. This is my assignment for you. Engage in a simple ritual and watch what emerges from your winter being. Then, begin to awaken. Begin to stir. With the earth, begin preparing for spring. Amen and blessed be.

June 3, 1952 – December 18, 2024   Prelude “Home at Last” by Dave Brubek Chris Crossgrove, piano                                Opening Words  (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Welcome Chalice Lighting Candle Ceremony  (Kendra Scarlett) Smudging  (Blessing) Ceremony (Bert Gunn) Responsive Reading "We Remember Shoshana" ad. from Rabbi Jack Reimer WE REMEMBER Shoshona At the rising of the sun and its going down We will remember her. At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter We will remember her. At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring We will remember her. At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer We will remember her. At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn We will remember her. At the beginning of the year and when it ends We will remember her. As long as we live, Shoshana too will live, for she is now a part of us As we remember her. When we are lost and sick at heart We will remember her. When we have made decisions that are difficult to make, We will remember her. When we have achievements that are based on hers We will remember her. When we have joy we crave to share We will remember her. As long as we live, she too will live for Shoshana is now part of us. As we remember her. Music “Smile” by Charlie Chaplin   Chris Crossgrove, piano Eulogy   Marsha Mason Testimonial Kendra Scarlett Music "To a Wild Rose" By Edward MacDowell Chris Crossgrove, piano Remembrances Words from the Minister Mourners’ Kadish  (Transliterated from the Hebrew) Yitgadahl v-yitkadesh sh’mey rabah B-allma div’ra chirautey V’yamlich malchutey B-chayechon yv-yomeychon Liv’chayey d’chol Beyt Yisra’el ba-agalah u-vi-zman kariv V-imru ameyn.   Y’hey sh’mey rabah m’vorach L’olam ul’amey almaya.   Yitbaraheh v-yishtabehch v-yitpa’ahr v-yitromahm v-yit nasey v-yit’hahdar v-yit’ahleh v-it’hahlal sh’mey d’kud’sha, b’rich hu l-eyla min kol birchahta v-shirahta tushb’chahta v-nehchehmahta da’amirahn b-alma v-imru ameyn.   Y’hey shlahma rabah min sh’maya v-chayim, Aleynu v-al kol Yisra’el v-imru ameyn.   Oseh shalom bim’romahv, hu yah’ahseh Shalom aleynu v-al kol Yistr’el v-omru ameyn. Music “Accentuate the Positive” by Johnny Mercer                             Shoshana Levinson, vocals Chris Crossgrove, piano Extinguishing the Chalice Benediction "In Blackwater Woods" by Mary Oliver Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life                                                   And hope for the community of earth                                      And love of the light in each other                                      Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Gathering Music "Chuckles is Our Groundhog" by Dan Thompson Dan Thompson, guitar and vocals Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude Adagio from E Major Sonata for violin and keyboard J.S. Bach Anhared Stowe, violin; Mary Bopp, piano Chalice Lighting and Opening Wor ds "A Partial List" by the Velveteen Rabbi (aka Rachel Barenblat) Opening Hymn #123 "Spirit of Life" by Carolyn McDade Spirit of Life, come unto me. Sing in my heart all the stirrings of compassion. Blow in the wind, rise in the sea; move in the hand, giving life the shape of justice. Roots hold me close; wings set me free; Spirit of Life, come to me, come to me. Time for All Ages : "Spring is Coming" Musical Meditation Joys and Concerns Musical Meditation Offering We do not gather our gifts only for ourselves but to share with the larger community. Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of February will be shared with Manchester's African American and Black Affairs Council. Offering Music Allegro from Southland Sketches for violin and piano Harry Thacker Burleigh Anhared Stowe, violin; Mary Bopp, piano Sermon "Turning" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #122 "Sound Over All Waters" Traditional Welsh melody Words by John Greenleaf Whittier Sound over all waters, reach out from all lands the chorus of voices, the clasping of hands! Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, all speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one! Sing bridal of nations, with chorals of love! Sing out the war vulture and sing in the dove! With glad jubilation sing hope for the world; the great storm is ending, the clouds are all furled. Sound trumpets of triumph for marches of peace, east, west, north, and south, let the long quarrels cease! Sing songs of great joy that the angels began, Give glory to children, to woman and man! Hark! Joining the chorus the heavens resound! The old day is ending, a new day is crowned! Rise, hope for the ages, arise like the sun, all speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one ! Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Gathering Music "Ship of Fools" by Hunter/Garcia "Just One Victory" by Rundgren Dan Thompson, guitar & vocals and Jen Richard, vocals Welcome and Announcements (David Klotz) Centering Musical Interlude Opening Thoughts on Power of Protest (Mary Lawrence) Chalice Lighting and Opening Words #462 (Paul Robeson) I shall take my voice wherever there are those who want to hear the melody of freedom or the words that might inspire hope and courage in the face of despair and fear. My weapons are peaceful, for it is only by peace that peace can be attained. The song of freedom must prevail. Opening Hymn #170 "We Are a Gentle Angry People" Words & music: Holly Near arr. by Patrick L. Rickey led by Jenn Richard We are a gentle, angry people, and we are singing, singing for our lives. We are a gentle, angry people, and we are singing, singing for our lives. We are a justice seeking people ... We are young and old together ... We are a land of many colors ... We are gay and straight together ... We are a gentle, loving people ... Time for All Ages (Emmy Galbraith) Welcoming Visitors and Joys & Concerns Offering The recipients of our January community outreach offering are Moral Monday CT and Power Up CT. Moral Monday gathers voices in the struggle for freedom and justice for black and brown people. Their areas of focus, activism and social change work include police accountability, voting rights, and workers' rights. Moral Monday CT was founded by Bishop John Selders and Lady Pamela Selders. Power Up CT brings much needed visibility to the ongoing realities of racism in Manchester and surrounding communities. They currently run Empower U, an after-school program at Squire Village in Manchester. UUSE currently serves as Power Up's fiscal sponsor. Offertory "All Men Are My Brothers" by Dan Thompson Homily "The Power of Protest" Stories from UUSE members on experiences with protest that have made a difference Mary Lawrence Song "Will the Circle Be Unbroken/The Flame" by Lara Herscovitch performed by Dan Thompson and Jenn Richard Words from Al Benford (shared by David Klotz) Musical Interlude Closing Thoughts on Power of Protest Closing Hymn "People Have the Power" by Patti Smith performed by Jenn Richard, vocals; Dan Thompson, guitar and vocals; and Mary Lawrence, vocals Extinguishing the Chalice and Closing Words #560 Commitment by Dorothy Day People say, what is the sense of our small effort. They cannot see that we must lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time. A pebble cast into a pond causes ripples that spread in all directions. Each one of our thoughts, words and deeds is like that. No one has a right to sit down and feel hopeless. There's too much work to do. Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Gathering Music Welcome (Emmy Galbraith) Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" By Thomas A. Dorsey Eric Rosenberg, Saxophone Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "A Network of Mutuality" The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. #584 in Singing the Living Tradition We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied to a single garment of destiny. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. There are some things in our social system to which all of us ought to be maladjusted. Hatred and bitterness can never cure the disease of fear, only love can do that. We must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression, and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love. Before it is too late, we must narrow the gaping chasm between our proclamations of peace and our lowly deeds which precipitate and perpetuate war. One day we must come to see that peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek but a means by which we arrive at that goal. We must pursue peaceful ends through peaceful means. We shall hew out of a mountain of despair, a stone of hope. Opening Hymn #153, "Oh I Woke Up This Morning" African American spiritual Eric Rosenberg, sax Bob Janes, drums Mary Bopp, piano Oh, I woke up this morning with my mind stayed on freedom. Woke up this morning with my mind stayed on freedom. Woke up this morning with my mind stayed on freedom. Hallelu, Hallelu, Halleluia. I was walking and talking with my mind ... I was singing and praying with my mind ... Oh, I woke up this morning with my mind ... Story "Let Us March On" By Yohuru Williams and Michael G Long Art by Xia Gordon Musical Interlude Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering The recipients of our January community outreach offering are Moral Monday CT and Power Up CT. Moral Monday gathers voices in the struggle for freedom and justice for black and brown people. Their areas of focus, activism and social change work include police accountability, voting rights, and workers' rights. Moral Monday CT was founded by Bishop John Selders and Lady Pamela Selders. Power Up CT brings much needed visibility to the ongoing realities of racism in Manchester and surrounding communities. They currently run Empower U, an after-school program at Squire Village in Manchester. UUSE currently serves as Power Up's fiscal sponsor. Offering Music "Come and Go With Me" African American spiritual Eric Rosenberg, sax Bob Janes, drums Mary Bopp, piano Civil Rights Stories Our Unitarian Universalist Past Our Unitarian Universalist Present Our Unitarian Universalist Future Closing Hymn "We Shall Overcome" African American spiritual Words adapted by William Farley Smith We shall overcome We shall overcome We shall overcome someday! Oh, deep in my heart I do believe We shall overcome some day. We'll walk hand in hand ... We shall all be free ... We shall live in peace ... We shall overcome ... Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Gina Campellone) Centering Prelude "A Story With No Words" Written and performed by Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "A Shared Story" by Rev. Sandra Fees For the stories that long to be told and retold, for the stories that long to be imagined and reimagined, for the stories that long to be envisioned and celebrated, we kindle this chalice. May its flame bring the light of different truths, different paths and different voices, all needed to cultivate a transformative story of justice, love and beauty. Introducing the Service Opening Hymn #1008 "When Our Heart Is In a Holy Place" Music & words by Joyce Poley Mary Bopp, piano & Jenn Richard, vocals Chorus: When our heart is in a holy place, When our heart is in a holy place, We are bless'd with love and amazing grace, When our heart is in a holy place. When we trust the wisdom in each of us, Ev'ry color ev'ry creed and kind, And we see our faces in each other's eyes, Then our heart is in a holy place. Chorus When we tell our story from deep inside, And we listen with a loving mind, And we hear our voices in each other's words, Then our heart is in a holy place. Chorus When we share the silence of sacred space, And the God of our Heart stirs within, And we feel the power of each other's faith, Then our heart is in a holy place. Time for All Ages "You Are a Story" by Bob Raczka Welcoming Visitors and Joys & Concerns Musical Interlude Offering Each Sunday, we dedicate half of the unallocated collections from our offertory to organizations that are working to improve peoples' lives in the Manchester area. The recipients of our January community outreach offering are Moral Monday CT and Power UP CT. Moral Monday gathers voices in the struggle for freedom and justice for black and brown people. Their areas of focus, activism and social change work include police accountability, voting rights, and workers' rights. Moral Monday CT was founded by Bishop John Selders and Lady Pamela Selders. Power UP CT brings much needed visibility to the ongoing realities of racism in Manchester and surrounding communities. They currently run Empower U, an after-school program at Squire Village in Manchester. UUSE currently serves as Power Up's fiscal sponsor. Offering Music "The Story" written by Phil Hanscroth and performed by Jenn Richard First Reflection (Gina Campellone) Music "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" written by Pearl Jam and performed by Jenn Richard Second Reflection (Paula Baker) Closing Hymn #128 "For All That is Our Life" Music by Patrick L. Rickey Words by Bruce Findlow Mary Bopp, piano and Jenn Richard, vocals For all that is our life we sing our thanks and praise; for all life is a gift which we are called to use to build the common good and make our own days glad. For needs which others serve, for services we give, for work and its rewards, for hours of rest and love; we come with praise and thanks for all that is our life. For sorrow we must bear, for failures, pain, and loss, for each new thing we learn, for fearful hours that pass: we come with praise and thanks for all that is our life. For all that is our life we sing our thanks and praise; for all life is a gift which we are called to use to build the common good and make our own days glad. Closing Words by Rev. Rod Richards May the stories we create Honor our ancestors Prove worthy of our children and our children's children And tell of connection and compassion In this present moment. Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

One Sunday morning in the early 1990s I sat in a pew at the (Unitarian Universalist) Arlington Street Church in Boston. I can still hear the Rev. Kim Crawford Harvie asking the question, “Why do we do what we do when we know what we know?” I don’t remember how she answered the question, or even if  she answered it. But I still hear it. “Why do we do what we do when we know what we know?           It’s a powerful question that invites us to explore those confounding thoughts, emotions, behaviors, relationships dynamics, anxieties, fears, etc. that persist in our lives, though we’d really like to move beyond them. I suspect at that time 30 years ago the question made me wonder about why I had stayed in a relationship for so long when I knew it wasn’t good for me. I also might have wondered about my father’s struggle with alcoholism over the previous quarter century: why had it been so difficult for him to get sober when that was all he wanted to do? To this day I notice my almost automatic use of coping strategies which I know originated in my childhood growing up with an alcoholic parent. They served me well as a child, but they’re no longer helpful; and though I like to think I’ve left them in the past, they remain remarkably durable and still tend to show up from time to time, especially in moments of high stress.           Why do we do what we do when we know what we know?           Why might we continue to consume foods and beverages we know aren’t healthy for us?           Why might we not fully heed the sound advice of our doctors?           Why might we continue to be angry at some person or situation about something that happened years ago, when we know the anger serves no purpose and mostly just harms us?           Why might we continue thinking negative thought about ourselves— you’re not good enough, not smart enough, not artistic or creative enough, not talented enough, not worthy —when we know none of it is true?           Why might we make the same New Year’s resolutions—or various species of them—year after year, but never achieve them?           I’m not suggesting that each of you is sitting here quietly wrestling with some unresolved childhood trauma, or living with some private piece of yourself that you’re desperately struggling to change. In my experience, most of you are relatively content with your lives. Many of you have worked really hard to attain that contentment. But at the same time, it’s rare to encounter a person who doesn’t want to change something about themselves, but can’t quite make it happen. Somehow it’s easier to maintain the psychological status quo , rather than make the change we know we ought to—or need to—make. Why do we do what we do when we know what we know? This morning I have a very specific answer to the question, as well as some thoughts about how to make those changes which so often remain elusive despite us knowing they would enhance our living. But first, credit where credit is due: Skip Gatting purchased this sermon at last year’s goods and services auction. While I’ve timed it to hint at why so many New Year’s resolutions are abandoned before the end of January, I’ve also timed it to plug this year’s goods and services auction—featuring our first-ever sauce competition—Saturday evening, January 25th. As always, I will be auctioning off a sermon. If this morning’s topic is not to your liking—or I suppose if any sermon topic is not to your liking—join us on the 25th and bid high! For decades, Skip has been conducting a self-guided study of techniques for improving one’s life—for reducing negative thinking, anger, anxiety and some forms of depression; for attaining greater happiness, inner peace, contentment, stronger relationships and greater meaning. He has his own website, Happiness-Success.com , at which, in addition to sharing his own musings, he has curated many resources—articles and videos—from medical doctors, neurologists, psychotherapists, life coaches, leadership trainers, new-age self-help gurus, religious scholars and practitioners, yoga instructors, Reiki masters, Oprah Winfrey and more. He’ll also be leading a workshop here on January 15th called “Program Your Mind to Achieve Your Goals” if you want to dig deeper into this material after this morning. His own story, which he shares on his website, explains why he is so passionate about this topic. For a variety of reasons, including traumatic childhood experiences, he grew into adulthood with significant anger, hostility and unhappiness. Although he had an excellent education, including earning an MBA degree, he was unsuccessful in the corporate world due to what he calls his negative attitude. That attitude, he says, also ruined his first marriage. His rock-bottom moment came when he was arrested and spent a night in jail. He promised himself he would seek professional help. He began with cognitive behavioral therapy, o f  which he speaks very highly; and from there expanded his journey of personal transformation through research, study and practice. Negative thinking, anger and unhappiness no longer haunt him today. In fact, people tell him he’s too positive! If there’s one idea Skip wanted me to bring to you this morning, it is neuroplasticity , the brain’s capacity (and really the capacity of the entire central nervous system) to adapt and change—to literally rewire itself—in response to internal and external stimuli. [1]  From infancy to adolescence—the time of peak brain development—we are constantly receiving and adapting to new information. We are learning. As we learn, our brain develops neural pathways to hold the learning. Much of that learning sinks into our unconscious mind. It becomes embedded, rote, second nature. We know 5 times 5 equals 25 without having to count it out on our fingers. We don’t forget how to ride a bike. We aren’t aware of electrical impulses moving constantly across our trillions of neural pathways, yet without all that unconscious knowledge, we’d have to think through every little bit of our functioning. This becomes problematic when the learning we internalize as children no longer serves us well in adulthood. In response to childhood trauma, Skip’s young brain built resilient neural pathways to help him cope and survive. He describes his negative thinking as a protective mechanism in adolescence. But as an adult it hampered his ability to succeed at work or to form lasting relationships. Growing up in a home with an alcoholic parent, I learned conflict avoidance. It was a great coping strategy as a child. Not so great in adulthood. I’ve worked hard to leave that part of me behind, but it is remarkable how it continues to show up when I least expect it. Unless we find some way to intervene in these unconscious processes, the older, well-established neural pathways continue to operate. That’s one answer to question, why do we do what we do when we know what we know. The good news is we aren’t hopelessly mired in the patterns of our childhood. Neuroplasticity enables the brain to form new neural pathways. This is not a new insight. Neuroplasticity is widely documented in the literature on psychology and neurology. If I understand correctly, as new neural pathways form, the old ones fall into disuse and slowly disappear. But it doesn’t just happen. The old pathways are durable, especially if they were formed in response to dysfunctional family systems, abuse, trauma, addiction, housing or food insecurity—anything that makes life feel precarious, unstable, etc. The building of new, more useful and healthy neural pathways requires sustained, disciplined work, whether within a therapeutic setting or on one’s own. I am no expert. I certainly have no clinical training. But in wading through the articles and videos on Skip’s website—as he asked me to do—I’ve pulled out some basic notions that resonate with me given what I’ve learned over the years as a pastor in supporting adults who want to change how they think, feel or behave. If we want to change, we need some way of altering or disrupting the patterns our established neural pathways sustain. We can prepare our brains for neurological change by actively slowing down or quieting the constant operation of those established pathways. How do we do this? One of the most reliable and widely cited techniques is meditation. Sit still, quiet the mind, watch your thoughts and feelings arise, but don’t let them hook you, don’t follow them. This is synonymous with basic Buddhist practice. Quieting the old patterns makes the brain more receptive to change. I actually think most spiritual practices will have a similar impact—prayer, singing, writing poetry, journaling, yoga—Skip uses the term ‘mindful thinking.’ Whatever quiets the mind. Whatever pauses or rests the endless flow of impulses up and down your established neural pathways. Others recommend play. So much of children’s learning and the forging of their neural pathways happens in the context of play. The same is true with adults. Play takes us out of our regular routines and thus, like spiritual practice, provides respite from the constant flow of information across our established neural pathways. Any activities that create such respite will help make the brain more receptive to the creation of new neural pathways. How does one actually do it? How does one intentionally create new neural pathways so that the old ones recede? I see four practices that, when used together over time, provide a reliable avenue for successfully changing longstanding thoughts, feelings and behaviors. Again, none of this is new information. It is widely accessible in the literature on psychology and neurology. First, observe the thoughts, feelings, behaviors, anxieties, compulsions, impulses, fears you want to change in real time. Learn to notice them as they arise. Bring them into your conscious awareness. Once they are there, you have more power over them, more capacity to choose whether or not to entertain them, more ability to interrupt and redirect them toward the change you seek. Ah, there’s that negative thought again. I am going to replace it with a positive thought. Second, visualize the change you seek. Whether you want to think, feel or behave differently, whether you want to be at some different place in your life a year from now having achieved a goal that is important to you, spend time every day visualizing the change. Imagine it. Attach images to it in your mind’s eye. You will know what you’re visualizing is a product of your imagination, but your neurons apparently won’t. In response to visualization, your neurons will work just as hard at building new pathways to support the change. Third, whatever change you visualize, attach as much positive emotion to it as you can. Combine your visualizations with activities that make you feel good. One technique that resonates with me is to combine visualizations with a practice of contemplating the blessings in your life, the things for which you are grateful. There is considerable evidence that emotion facilitates the development of new neural pathways more than thinking. Fourth, repeat, repeat, repeat. New neural pathways form most reliably when the desired thought, feeling or behavior is repeated at regular intervals over months and even years. Skip tells the story of setting the alarm on his watch to beep every hour, reminding him to observe his thoughts. Was he ruminating on some negative idea or feeling, which was his norm? If so, he would replace it with a positive idea or feeling. The bottom line is, when attempting to build new neural pathways, repetition matters. Discipline matters. A willingness to practice matters. Now, some cautions. I know the way I am talking about this material makes it sound simple, and in some ways it is. Skip will tell you it’s a very simple concept. But he will also agree that the old neural pathways, because they are so familiar and deeply ingrained, because they provide the path of least resistance, are very hard to alter. These techniques I’ve described will not work for everyone, especially in situations where people are working through the impacts of severe trauma or brain injury. People can work extremely hard at this and never get the results they seek. And sometimes the things we want to change require corresponding changes in the larger environment over which we have much less control. Nevertheless, the evidence is clear: our brains can rewire themselves, can build new neural pathways in support of healthier living, a more positive, confident outlook on life, the achievement of goals, and the attainment of greater happiness and contentment. With that said, I go back to the words of the Rev. Robby Walsh which I shared at the beginning of this service: “I wish for you in this new year as many new beginnings as you need.” I share this wish with the knowledge that we have the tools to change our lives for the better. Knowing what we know, we can change what we do. Thanks Skip! Amen and blessed be.  [1]  Here’s a nice overview of neuroplasticity in Psychology Today : https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/basics/neuroplasticity#:~:text=Engaging%20in%20positive%20social%20interactions,sense%20of%20purpose%20in%20life .

Gathering Music Rob Laurens, vocals and guitar Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "You Are Welcome Here" written and performed by Rob Laurens, vocals and guitar Chalice Lighting and Opening Words Excerpt from "A New Year" by the Rev. Robert Walsh Opening Hymn #1009 "Meditation on Breathing" by Sarah Dan Jones Martha Larson, piano When I breathe in, I'll breathe in peace When I breathe out, I'll breathe out love. Time for All Ages Musical Interlude Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering The recipients of our January community outreach offering are Moral Monday CT and Power UP CT. Moral Monday gathers voices in the struggle for freedom and justice for black and brown people. Their areas of focus, activism and social change work include police accountability, voting rights, and workers' rights. Moral Monday CT was founded by Bishop John Selders and Lady Pamela Selders. Power Up CT brings much needed visibility to the ongoing realities of racism in Manchester and surrounding communities. They currently run Empower U, an after-school program at Squire Village in Manchester. UUSE currently serves as Power Up's fiscal sponsor. Offering Music "From the Light of Dawn" written and performed by Rob Laurens, vocals and guitar Sermon "On the Road to Positivity" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #212 "We Are Dancing Sarah's Circle" Words by Carole A. Etzler Music: African American spiritual, c. 1750-1875 Martha Larson, piano We are dancing Sarah's Circle, We are dancing Sarah's Circle, We are dancing Sarah's Circle, Sister, brothers, all. Here we seek and find our history... We will all do our own naming... Every round a generation... On and on the circle's moving... Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.