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02/05/23 Calling The Quarters excerpts from “Quarterdance” by Mary Bopp and Josh Pawelek Spirit of the East, we invite your presence. Come air, come breath, come knowledge. Spirit of the South, we invite your presence. Come fire, come heat, come turning. Spirit of the West, we invite your presence. Come moisture, come water, come mystery. Spirit of the North, we invite your presence. Come earth, come roots, come wisdom. Introduction to Imbolc Rev. Josh Pawelek and Peggy Gagne Josh: In early February we arrive at at a cross-quarter time—halfway between solstice and equinox. In the ancient Gaelic calendar, this is the time for the celebration of Imbolc or Oimelc—Imbolc meaning ‘in the belly,’ or ‘fire in the belly,’ pregnant; Oimelc referring to ewe’s milk,’ because the sheep are pregnant, ready to give birth. The milk is beginning to flow. Spring is coming. Among pre-Christian Celtic peoples, as well as in many current-day pagan communities, the celebration of Imbolc—typically on February 2nd—is associated with Brigid or Bríd, the ancient Irish goddess: the exalted one, keeper of the flame, guardian of home and hearth, patron of bards and crafters, a poet, a healer, a member of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the ancient Irish tribe of gods. In Catholicism February 1st is the feast day of St. Brigid, who was likely a fifth-century Irish nun, remembered for founding monasteries and churches. Catholics attribute a number of miracles to her. Her blood was said to have healing properties. She’s rumored to have turned water into beer. Many historians of religion argue that over time, Brigid the Catholic nun took on the characteristics of Brigid the pagan goddess. These arguments ring true to me. Because the people would not—perhaps could not—give up their goddess, the church Christianized her, elevated her, venerated her. Thus the more ancient patterns and meanings remain to this day, even if they reside in the shadows. Peggy: Imbolc is a cross quarter on the Wiccan calendar, which means it’s between a solstice and an equinox. It’s a time between. It comes after the dark and cold time of contemplation following Yule at the winter solstice, but well before the renewal of Ostara, which comes with the return of the light at the spring equinox. Can you imagine the sun peeking through a winter forest? That’s an Imbolc image. It’s a time of slow awakening, just like the groundhog sticking its head out of its hole. It’s a time of brushing away cobwebs and cleaning out what no longer serves us. In the Wiccan practice, Imbolc is a time to replace our old ritual candles with fresh ones. Some say Imbolc gives us the idea of spring cleaning. When my instructor told me Imbolc marks the beginning of spring on the Wiccan calendar, I told her she had obviously never lived in Maine, where there is usually still several feet of snow on the ground! Apparently the Celtic parts of the world had milder winters! Meditation “Imbolc” By Erin Williams and Madeleine Breault It is no longer Christmas, or Yule, or Hannukah- our family’s traditions have been packed away into boxes And stored in the basement until next year. Many days are still gray and cold, but it isn’t really Winter anymore, it isn’t as dark, the days stretch longer, sunlight extends into the evening now. And yet, it is not Spring. This is a time of waiting. This is a turning time, an in-between time, A liminal time. Imbolc means Fire in the Belly, What is yet to be born, What is still gestating, Ruminating- My fire is Making art, walking in the woods and swimming in the lake, My fire is sitting in the sun, or watching the stars My fire is the projects I want to do and the stories I want to write. What projects are you imagining? What trips are you planning? What exciting spark is dancing around inside of you? Who are you becoming? Imbolc is Brigid, Goddess of healers and poets Goddess of the forge where tools were made in fire Goddess of the wells and waterways, where the earth provides us with nourishment- The ice is melting now, and the water trickles into the yawning earth- The seeds are waiting. This is a time of pausing, checking in, This is a time of questioning Are you ready to go outside on this cold morning? To feel the sunlight And Know how much you are loved? Or is that too much, Are you like the groundhog, seeing your shadow, needing more time- To ruminate, to sit at the hearth of yourself? Sometimes things seem so uncertain, but I know that the seasons are circles, And I trust that endlessness. I know that there is fire inside all of us, And that is our potential, that is how much we can love- So even during these in-between days I Celebrate the pause, I Trust the circle, I Remember that the sun is returning The ice is melting The earth is stirring There is a purple crocus bravely Showing her face And I am returning her smile. Reflection “Hope” by Peggy Gagne The early Celtic version of Imbolc was not all that different from the festival in early medieval times, when Christianity was taking hold in Ireland. One of the goddesses the Celts worshipped at this festival was Brigid, (and you will see that spelled and hear it pronounced in a multitude of ways!). She was the daughter of Dagda (the chief Celtic deity) and one of the Tuatha De Dannan, the first inhabitants of Ireland. She is associated with many things, most significantly poetry and fertility, but also such activities as healing, smithing, arts and crafts, and tending to livestock. Making foods with a focus on milk, such as cheese or custard were and are still popular. In celebration of her, it common to write poems and try out various crafts. One popular craft is the making of a Brigid’s Cross, now known as a St. Bridget’s Cross. (Hold up picture) It is traditionally made out of plants called rushes, but these days can be made out of whatever material that works. It is hung above the entrances to dwellings to invoke the help of St Bridget in warding off disease. Even in mild winters like the one this year, I find it can be easy to get a little depressed by the shorter days with less light. But as Imbolc approaches, I can feel not only the lengthening, but also the strengthening in the light, and it seems to give me a little strength too – to just hold on a little bit longer and we’ll be through this and spring will be here. I can almost taste it in the air – and occasionally hear the hopeful song of an early spring bird. I start to go out for more walks in search of the light and notice the early buds setting on some trees. I notice shoots of early spring plants just starting to break ground. I also find smudging the house lightens the feel of everything, since it’s too early to open the windows yet. And my thoughts start to turn to the projects I’ve had in the back of my mind, both for my home and myself. I start to look at day trips I might take with bus companies or night classes I might be interested in. I start to look forward to being around people again. New seeds of ideas to plant as the world becomes brighter and warmer. If I had to sum up Imbolc in one word it would probably be HOPE. Hope that the cold and dark will continue to recede. Hope that the ideas and thoughts that I have come up with in these quieter days will take root and grow when I plant them at Ostara. And hope that I and those around me will continue to move towards the light and encourage others to do so as well. Thank you. Reflection Imbolc by Sudha Sevin For me, celebrating the Celtic holiday of Imbolc is a very practical way to get through the post-holidays winter months. It’s an antidote to cabin fever. Imbolc is just one of the Celtic seasonal holidays I mark. I have found that celebrating these special days, which are about halfway between the solstices and equinoxes, aligns me to the earth and the celestial energies that are emerging at the time. By marking them, I harmonize with those energies. It is also a way to connect to cyclical time, which I experience as a spiral of present moments rather than clocks and calendars. Or you might think of it as “stepping out of time.” The Celts love to celebrate the liminal, whether it is faerie mounds, the dawn, or the threshold of your home. How do you convey what Imbolc is? It’s vast. Its traditions have many different aspects and regional variations. I have to make choices about what to focus on. I could tell you Imbolc means this or that, but so much of it is subtle. Much of it is only known through experience. Still, I would like to try to share my experience of Imbolc with you. So, this is our moment, right now, to mark Imbolc together. I invite you to close your eyes or gaze at a candle and let these words, which I wrote for you, wash over you. Perhaps from this, you’ll have your own experience of the magic of Imbolc. Imbolc Through the dark each of us has carried forward a tiny flame Each has found a way to nurture that seed of light, enduring black, cold passageways in faith that ‘round the next curve, or the next, a lit circle of entry shall show itself, Tell us, we’ve made it to the surface. The powers of Light are waxing and the thin, hibernating bear shall reappear. Remember that once bejeweled August harvest? And then the aging stalks and vines—we tugged and composted—returned to hushed earth? Now so close is renewal, pushing up from earth’s womb. The birds await your return. In equipoise the trees hold the unsheathing of their leaves. Come back to us, Lady! Helpless lambs are born from your red blood and white milk a miracle The sun’s light grows, a toddler yet to be sure, but soon strong and able to warm the bones of the dead. So much promise, that new one. Do we not live by dreams? Candlelight reflections in the waters of the sacred well is the shine of our souls. Reflection “Pagan at Heart” Rev. Josh Pawelek I am pagan at heart. I wonder if you are too. Some pagans have direct relationships with the goddesses and gods who were known to the ancients. Among Unitarian Universalist pagans, especially those who observe the eight sabbat rituals of the neo-pagan wheel of the year, including Imbolc, which we’re exploring this morning, many of those gods and goddesses are Celtic in origin, such as Brigid. Others are Germanic. Some are Norse. Occasionally UU pagans explore the Greek and Roman pantheons. Occasionally they look beyond ancient Europe. I haven’t talked about this much from the pulpit, but one of the goals of my study leave this past summer was to read non-European, non-White science fiction and fantasy writers who weave earth-based deities into their story-telling—Tomi Adeyemi and Nnedi Okorafor, both Nigerian-American writers, often work with West African deities, the orishas. S.A. Chakraborty, a Catholic-born convert to Islam, tells tales of Middle Eastern Djinn in her Daevabad series. Rebecca Roanhorse, a mixed race, Pueblo and African American writer, draws on the religious world-views of Pre-Columbian American civilizations. There’s more. My point for this morning is that paganism comes in millions of variations—some highly structured, some entirely spontaneous—and it exists in every corner of the planet where human beings live and, especially, as they interact with their natural environment in spiritually significant ways. Paganism comes from the Latin word paganus, which refers to peasants, rural people, rustic people. Over the millennia ‘Pagan’ has become a word of derision in the lexicon of larger, organized religions, like Christianity and Islam, religions that sought (and still sometimes seek) to convert the people from their traditional folk ways, folk practices, folk religions, often in the context of conquest and colonization. While many indigenous cultures across the planet have held onto their Earth-based spiritual practices throughout centuries of colonization, in recent decades, many non-indigenous people, especially in the West, have reclaimed Paganism as a positive, powerful, meaningful spiritual identity. Today Paganism points to something that was lost or stolen generations ago: a recognition of the sacredness of the Earth; an understanding of the interrelatedness of all life; and a desire to engage spiritually with nature. For some pagans, at least some of the time, the deities are very real. In my experience Brigid speaks to many people across Northern Europe and North America, especially at Imbolc. Something about her seems so real and accessible. At other times, the deities become metaphors for certain natural life forces or human lifeways – love, healing, fertility, birth, death, planting, harvesting, etc. Brigid is associated with the home and the hearth, bards, crafters, poets, brewers, and healers. At other times the deities become associated with the elements—earth, air, fire, water. Brigid is the keeper of the flame. I am Pagan at heart. I don’t have that immediate, direct relationship with a deity (though if I had to choose one, I would probably choose Brigid; or as a person of German – Scandinavian – Polish heritage, I might feel called to do research and find a deity who aligns with that heritage.) But I’ve never felt called in quite that way. When I say I am Pagan at heart, I mean I live with a constant, sometimes muted, sometimes blaring, sense that the natural world is magical, enchanted, breathing, listening, observing, and even at times, conscious, knowing. It’s not an intellectual construct. It’s not something for which I have any scientific evidence. It’s not something I can prove. It’s not exactly rational. It’s a sensation, a feeling, an intuition, a spiritual inclination. When we arrive at Imbolc, and I hear that translation “in the belly,” referring to pregnant sheep, or Oimelc, referring to ewe’s milk, I get a flash of recognition: of course, we are six weeks out from spring, and signs of spring are slowly revealing themselves. Nature follows its seasonal patterns, winter slowly recedes, spring slowly approaches. I feel it. The term Imbolc affirms the feeling. I’ve preached previously about the connections between Imbolc and Groundhog Day, the descendent of that ancient, Northern European tradition of using animal divination at this cross-quarter time to discern when to plant the first seeds. I see all the campy media attention given to Chuckles here in Manchester, or Punxsutawney Phil in Pennsylvania. It’s a bit corny. Fun for kids. But secretly my heart leaps out of my chest. Of course they know when spring is coming! It probably has nothing to do with whether they see their shadow, but of course they know. They are Earth creatures beholden ancient instincts; Earth creatures embedded in the patterns of Nature even if they live inside museums. Of course they know when spring is coming. And if they could talk to us, they’d probably ask us why we talked ourselves out of this knowledge. They would probably ask us why we have educated and industrialized and technologized ourselves out of this knowledge which actually still lives inside us and is our birthright as Earth creatures like them. They might even warn us: all life on the planet is now in peril precisely because you humans no longer know how to live in concert with the natural world. Imbolc is one among many opportunities to get back in touch with that ancient knowledge, those ancient Earth creature instincts. Lighting fires of purification and cleansing? Blessing candles for the year’s rituals? Letting go of that which no longer works for us and is really just producing mental clutter? Getting ready for spring cleaning? It all seems to fit with this moment in the wheel of the year; it all seems to connect back to the way the Earth begins preparing itself for bursting forth in spring splendor. So I say yes to all of it. I am Pagan at Heart. Even if you don’t use the word Pagan, I suspect, at least in some way, you are too. Amen and blessed be.

01/08/23 Our ministry theme for this first month of 2023 is Finding Our Center. It has always been abundantly clear to me that the practice of shared ministry lives at the center of our congregational life—meaning our life here at the Unitarian Universalist Society: East in Manchester. Given that, as a way to begin talking about this theme, I want to share my thoughts on shared ministry. Full disclosure: I preached a version of this sermon at the Unitarian Society of Hartford in October. A number of UUS:E members were in attendance. Afterwards, all of them said some version of “You have to preach this sermon in Manchester.” I am taking them up on their suggestion. I call this sermon “What Shared Ministry Means to Me.” The short response is: it means everything. When I say “shared ministry” I’m referring to all the ways in which a congregation—the collective of lay people—shares, collaborates, partners, cooperates, or teams up with its professional staff: its minister or ministers, its religious education professionals, music professionals, membership professionals, etc. And of course, not every congregation has that full array of professionals. Not every congregation has a minister. So then the question becomes, how do the lay people share ministry among themselves? And a further question, which is somewhat beyond my scope this morning, though not completely absent: how do the area congregations with the same denominational identity share ministry? And even further beyond my scope, though not completely absent: how do congregations of all denominations and faiths in a particular region share ministry? Ministry is never a solo act. Even if one person visits you in the hospital, the congregation, by some means (which is not always visible, which is often taken for granted) has authorized that person to be there; while it has also authorized, by some means, someone else to prepare worship for Sunday, someone else to attend the interfaith coalition board meeting, someone else to volunteer in the nursery, someone else to make the coffee, someone else to greet people as they arrive for worship, someone else to edit the newsletter, someone else to chair the board, someone else to handle the technology so that people can participate safely from home. And behind all that authorization (which is an admittedly bureaucratic term), giving rise to it, is a beautiful, sometimes messy set of very human relationships, human conversations, human covenants, human love and multiple avenues for connection to all that is holy in our lives. The ministry is shared. We share ministry because we are human in relationship with each other and with divinity understood and experienced in a multiplicity of ways. Our sharing means everything. The best way for me to illustrate this in more detail is to tell you the story of my encounter with shared ministry here at UUS:E. As you know, I am serving in my 20th year as your solo professional minister. While UUS:E is not the only congregation I have served as minister, it is the one I have served for most of my career, and thus its conventions around shared ministry have shaped me far more than the conventions of any other institution in our Unitarian Universalist Association. The first thing to know about our model of shared ministry, something which we don’t often name explicitly, but which becomes apparent to Sunday guests after about a month of visiting, has to do with how my time is structured. I am a full-time minister; however, I am a part-time preacher. I lead worship and preach, on average, twice a month. I sometimes co-lead a third monthly service—what we call an all-congregation service, where the children’s ministry worships with the adults. We do that at least once a month. Some of those services are staff-led, some are lay-led; some emerge out of a lay and staff partnership. One or two Sunday services each month are lay-led. This model developed out of necessity. The congregation called its first full-time minister, the Rev. Arnold Westwood, in the 1970s. Very quickly they ran out of money to pay him full-time, so he started splitting his time between UUS:E and the UU congregation in Amherst, MA. So, for us he was a part-time minister and a part-time preacher. And, out of necessity, lay people began leading worship on the weeks when Arnold was in Amherst. The congregation liked this arrangement, so much so that it became a central part of our identity. To this day, the lay people of the congregation share the worship ministry with the professional minister. Allegedly—I don’t have the full story—the minister who succeeded Arnold in the 1980s didn’t like this model and, among other things, was overheard saying, “Wait until they hear a real minister preach; they’ll get rid of this model.” That minister moved on a few years later. The sharing continued. Fast forward to the spring of 2002. I am the candidate for the minister position at UUS:E, getting ready to succeed the Rev. Connie Sternberg. Not once, not twice, but three times before I show up for what we call “the candidating week,” the chair of the search committee, Fred Sawyer, calls me to ask: “Are you sure you are OK with preaching only twice a month? You’re not gonna get into the position and then tell us you want to preach every week, right?” There was a lot of anxiety around this question. Was I just saying I liked the model so I’d be sure to get the job? Carol Simpson, Nancy Madar, Malcolm Barlow and Sylvia Ounpuu were members of that search committee. I trust they can vouch for what I am telling you. That anxiety was quite palpable. I really liked the model, and wasn’t entirely sure how to convince the search committee that I really meant it. On the surface, I liked the model because I struggled with writing sermons. I think I prepared pretty good sermons, but the process took me forever. I didn’t relish the idea of sitting down every week, week in and week out, to prepare worship. The thought of doing that was exhausting. I knew that by the end of every congregational year, full-time preachers were tired, burned out, out of ideas, bone-dry, desperate for some down-time. I didn’t want that in my life. But that was mostly my anxiety, which is common to many new ministers—a need to be perfect, undergirded by a secret, hard-to-share knowledge that we are not perfect, undergirded by a fear that our imperfections will be discovered, undergirded by a nagging question: do I really have what it takes? I also knew from experience that if I had, on average, two weeks to prepare a sermon, it would inevitably be better than if I had, on average, one week. Two weeks allows time for ideas to gestate. Two weeks allows time for more research. Two weeks allows time for more editing. Two weeks allows time to get the rhythm and the poetry of the words just right. But this was just the surface of my embrace of the model. This was me struggling with the mechanics of worship design and sermon writing. There was much more underneath, though I understand it much better now than I did then. Perhaps you’ve heard the phrase “the prophet-hood and the priesthood of all believers?” This concept emerged in Europe during the Protestant Reformation—mid to late 1500s, early to mid 1600s. There is a complex history to it which I won’t share here. Suffice to say, the concept meant that the people in the pews had some agency in matters of the spiritual life and the conduct of the church’s ministry. They are not passive recipients of spiritual ministrations; they are active participants in the ministry. “The prophet-hood and the priesthood of all believers.” Although we weren’t really using that language anymore, I took the concept seriously. I had always wondered: in a faith that values the individual’s spiritual search, the individual’s hard-won personal theology, the individual’s evolving set of spiritual practices—in a faith that values personal experience as a source of truth and as a primary ground for meaning-making and theological reflection—where does any of that find expression in the life of the congregation if the minister preaches every Sunday? This question had been nagging at me ever since I had begun working in congregations in the mid-1990s. The answer wasn’t clear to me and, frankly, I was afraid to ask. I won’t tell you how many times colleagues of mine have said demeaning things about lay-people in the pulpit, but I will tell you that I’ve learned to push back hard when I hear it today. I found an answer to my question when the UUS:E ministerial search committee presented this model of shared worship ministry to me, saying “this is central to who we are,” saying “we want to hear from you, but we also want to hear from each other,” saying “this is a fundamentally democratic way of being church.” I said “yes!” I meant it, and I’ve never looked back. Of course there are many other ways of sharing ministry. This one, admittedly, is big. It’s rare. Professional ministers are trained to lead worship. Lay people, generally speaking, aren’t. How is it even possible? Well, it requires a huge commitment, not to mention a lot of enthusiasm, from lay people. It’s certainly not for every congregation. It works splendidly for UUS:E. It works splendidly for me. Here’s why. I love preaching. I love creating worship. But that has never been all I wanted to do in ministry. A long time ago, before I landed at UUS:E, I wrote a personal mission statement for my ministry, which hasn’t changed much in the nearly 25 years since I first wrote it. “I am a theistic Unitarian Universalist; an aspiring antiracist, feminist, queer ally; a liberal, suburban American minister practicing a modern version of New England’s old ‘congregational way;’ a loving husband and father; and a spiritual leader dedicated to transformative preaching, teaching, healing and social justice ministries.” And precisely because I don’t have to come back every week and create a liturgy for Sunday worship; precisely because I don’t have to come back every week and spend the 10 to 20 hours it takes to create a decent sermon, let alone an excellent sermon, I have time to be very present to our people who are in crisis, who need pastoral care, who need a listening ear. I have time to teach. I have time to meet with visitors and newcomers to the congregation. I have time to supervise our staff. Most importantly for me (although the pastoral care is very important), I can engage in social justice and antiracist organizing in the wider community. I have time to serve on the strategy team of the Greater Hartford Interfaith Action Alliance, and then share that ministry with UUSE members and friends as they participate in our GHIAA core team, on GHIAA issue teams, or in GHIAA trainings and actions. I can serve as a partner with Moral Monday CT and Power Up CT on Black Lives Matter organizing, and then share that participation with members and friends of our congregation. I can serve on the Coordinating Committee of Recovery for All. I can serve as a clergy leader with the Domestic Worker Justice Campaign and the HUSKY for Immigrants Campaign. I can serve as a leader with Equality Connecticut’s new interfaith clergy organization in their effort to maintain and advance the rights of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and questioning people across the state. Over the last twenty years I have had time to bring Unitarian Universalist principles into the public arena in what I believe is a very potent way, precisely because, most specifically, I share worship ministry, but also pastoral care ministry, administrative ministry, social justice ministry, and many other ministries with the lay people of UUSE. Is it perfect? No. Do we have trouble finding volunteers? Yes, all the time. Do I invite sharing only to be met by crickets filling the summer evening silence as they rub their scrapers together? Yes. Do I fail to respond to lay people who want to share some ministry with me? Absolutely. It takes work, discipline, intentionality, and a tolerance for conflict. We often miss the mark. But on the whole, I have the time in my calendar to fulfill my entire ministerial call, to live out that personal mission of pursuing transformative preaching, teaching, healing and social justice ministry. I have this time because, at the heart of our model, lives a belief in the prophet-hood and priesthood of all believers. I have this time because, at the heart of our model, lives the belief that ministry is never a solo act, that it emerges out of a set of very human relationships, conversations, covenants, love and avenues for connection to all that is holy in our lives. Whether we know it or not, we share ministry with each other. I say it works better if we know it. It works better if we can name all the ways we share ministry, understanding that this is what it means to be in covenantal relationship with one another, understanding that this is how we manifest the principles of our faith, understanding and believing as my dear colleague, the late Hope Johnson said in her meditation we heard earlier, “we are one,” understanding and believing that our capacity to share ministry means everything. Amen and blessed be.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Martha Larson) Introduction of Service and Speaker (Martha Larson) Centering (Fred Louis) Prelude "Heartsong by Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "It may be difficult for you to accept that the seed of Buddha is in you, but we all have the capacity for faith, awakening, understanding, and awareness, and that is what is meant by Buddha nature. There is no one who does not have the capacity to be a Buddha." --Thich Nhat Hanh, The Heart of Buddha's Teaching Opening Hymn "This Is My Song" #159 Words: Lloyd Stone; Music: Jean Sibelius Led by Fred Louis This is my song, O God of all the nations, a song of peace for lands afar and mine. This is my home, the country where my heart is; here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine; but other hearts in other lands are beating with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine. My country's skies are bluer than the ocean, and sunlight beams on clover leaf and pine; but other lands have sunlight too, and clover, and skies are everywhere as blue as mine. O hear my song, thou God of all the nations, a song of peace for their land and for mine. Reading: "The Five Remembrances" (Fred Louis) Welcoming Visitors; Joys and Concerns (Martha Larson) Musical Response "Everything Will Be All Right" by Kay Gardner Performed by members of the Manchester Women's Sacred Singing Circle (MWSSC) Everything will be all right Day is day and follows night Everything will be all right Darkness flows into the light. Offering Words (Martha Larson) Offertory Music "Awake" by Mary Bopp Anthem Medley Performed by members of the MWSSC "Be Here Now" by Debbie Christo Now is the only moment, now is the only moment Be in this moment, breathe in this moment Love in this moment, be here now Be here now in this moment "Honor the Divine" by Linda Koehler I honor the divine that's within your soul, Please honor the divine within me. Each of us holds the source of all being When we all see this we shall live in peace "Amazed" by Linda Hirshhorn May I stay amazed, for all of my days At all of the ways of the world's turning Amazed at what I've got not what I've not, All soon forgot in the world's turning. "May I Be an Instrument of Peace" (unknown) May I be an instrument of peace, may I be an instrument of peace. Reflection (Fred Louis) Closing Hymn "We Begin Again in Love" #1037 Words: Robert Eller-Isaacs; Music: Les Kleen Narrator: For remaining silent when a single voice would have made a difference... Congregation sings: We forgive ourselves and each other, we begin again in love. N: For each time that our fears have made us rigid and inaccessible... C: We forgive ourselves and each other, we begin again in love. N: For each time we have struck out in anger without cause... C: We forgive ourselves and each other, we begin again in love. N: For each time that our greed has blinded us to the needs of others... C: We forgive ourselves and each other, we begin again in love. N: For the selfishness that set us apart and alone... C: We forgive ourselves and each other, we begin again in love. N: For falling short of the admonitions of the spirit... C: We forgive ourselves and each other, we begin again in love. N: For losing sight of our unity... C: We forgive ourselves and each other, we begin again in love. N: For those and for so many acts both evident and subtle which have fueled the illusion of separateness... C: We forgive ourselves and each other, we begin again in love. Extinguishing the Chalice and Closing Words (Marth Larson and Fred Louis) Thanks ( Martha Larson) 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. Postlude "May I Be an Instrument of Peace" (unknown) Together - Martha, Fred, MWSSC and Congregation

Gathering Music Benjamin Elzerman, Bagpipes Welcome, Announcements and Centering (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Prelude "Which Side Are You On? by Florence Reece Doug Pease, harmonica Chalice Lighting and Opening Words adaptation of Romans 12: 4-8 by Rev. Josh Pawelek Opening Song #131 "Love Will Guide Us" by Sally Rogers Love will guide us, peace has tried us, hope inside us will lead the way on the road from greed to giving. Love will guide us through the hard night. If you cannot sing like angels, if you cannot speak before thousands, you can give from deep within you. You can change the world with your love. Love will guide us, peace has tried us, hope inside us will lead the way on the road from greed to giving. Love will guide us through the hard night. Remarks from the Emcee, Gymm Morey Song "From Many Different Pathways" by Bob Hewey Poem "Under a Colorless Sky" by Cory Clark Joys and Concerns Offering Offering Music "Twelve Gates to the City" by the Rev. Gary Davis Doug Pease, harmonica; Nancy Madar, guitar Song Original Song (to be announced) "Nick Glomb, guitar and vocals" Song "Summer in the City" by John Sebastian, Mark Sebastian and Steve Boone performed by Dan Thompson and Sandy Johnson Song "This Time Tomorrow" by Brandi Carlile performed by Pat Eaton-Robb "Roseville Fair" by Bill Staines performed by Joe and Nancy Madar Homily "A Bounty of Gifts" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Song #1064 "Blue Boat Home" by Peter Mayer led by Ben Elzerman Though below me, I feel no motion standing on these mountains and plains. Far away from the rolling ocean still my dry land heart can say: I've been sailing all my life now, never harbor or port have I known. The wide universe is the ocean I travel, and the earth is my blue boat home. Sun my sail and moon my rudder as I ply the starry sea, leaning over the edge in wonder, casting questions into the deep. Drifting here with my ship's companions, all we kindred pilgrim souls, making our way by the lights of the heavens in our beautiful blue boat home. I give thanks to the waves upholding me, hail the great winds urging me on, greet the infinite sea before me, sing the sky my sailor's song: I was born upon the fathoms, never harbor or port have I known. The wide universe is the ocean I travel, and the earth is my blue boat home. 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. Postlude "Jubilee" by Bill Staines performed by Nancy and Joe Madar

Gathering Music “Barcarolle” by Pyotr Ilych Tchaikovsky performed by Dorothy Bognar Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude “Salut d’Amour” by Edward Elgar performed by Dorothy Bognar Chalice Lighting and Opening Words Opening Hymn #298 “Wake, Now, My Senses” Traditional Irish Melody; lyrics by Thomas J. Mikelson led by Sandy Johnson Wake, now, my senses, and hear the earth call; feel the deep power of being in all; keep, with the web of creation your vow, giving, receiving as love shows us how. Wake, now, my reason, reach out to the new; join with each pilgrim who quests for the true; honor the beauty and wisdom of time; suffer thy limit, and praise the sublime. Wake, now, compassion, give heed to the cry; voices of suffering fill the wide sky; take as your neighbor both stranger and friend, praying and striving their hardship to end. Wake, now, my conscience, with justice thy guide; join with all people whose rights are denied; take not for granted a privileged place; God’s love embraces the whole human race. Wake, now, my vision of ministry clear; brighten my pathway with radiance here; mingle my calling with all who will share; work toward a planet transformed by our care. Introduction to the Service Musical Meditation Our First Poet: Molly Vigeant Musical Meditation Joys and Concerns Musical Meditation Offering Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of August will be split among area food pantries (MACC, Hockanum Valley, and East of the River Mutual Aid). Offering Music “Eighteenth Variation on a Theme of Paganini” by Sergey Rachmaninoff, arr. by H.W. Eichhorn performed by Dorothy Bognar Our Second Poet: Bill Lautenbach Musical Meditation Our Third Poet: Cory Clark Closing Hymn #118 “This Little Light of Mine” Words and music: African American spiritual led by Sandy Johnson This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine. This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine. This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. Ev’rywhere I go, I’m gonna let it shine… Building up a world, I’m gonna let it shine… Reflections 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.

Order of Service Gathering Music – Instrumental version of “This Is America” by Childish Gamvino Welcome – David Klotz Announcements – David Centering Prelude “The Times They Are a-Changin’” by Bob Dylan. Performed by Bob Hewey and Carol Simpson. Introduction to the Service Chalice Lighting – David Welcoming Visitors – David Joys and Concerns – David Musical Interlude – “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” by Pete Seeger. Performed by Ruth George, Kevin Gallagher, and Paula Audette. Participatory Reading – Kate Offering – David Offertory Music – “How Can You Keep on Movin’ (Unless You Migrate, Too)?” by Ry Cooder. Performed by Sandy Johnson. Readings – David Musical Interlude – “The Big Parade” by Natalie Merchant & Jerome Augustyniak. Performed by Meeting House. Closing Words – Kate Extinguishing the Chalice – David Closing Circle – David & Congregation Postlude – “What’s Goin’ On?” by Marvin Gaye. Performed by Meeting House.

OOS 07-30-2023 Gathering Music Welcome & Announcements Introduction to the Service Centering Prelude “Warm from the Oven” Improv by Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting & Opening Words Opening Hymn #175 “We Celebrate the Web of Life” Reading “Culture & Anarchy” by Adrienne Rich Reflection #1 Musical Response Joys & Concerns Reflection #2 Musical Response Offering Offertory Music “The Christians & the Pagans” (Dar Williams) Sung by Kate Howard-Bender Reflection #3 Closing Hymn #131 “Love Will Guide Us” Extinguishing the Chalice & Closing Words (Agnes Maxwell-Hall) Closing Circle

the Rev. Josh Pawelek Unitarian Universalist Society East Manchester, CT July 23, 2023 I’m going to share my reflections on the Unitarian Universalist Association’s recent General Assembly—GA; specifically my evolving impressions of the similarly evolving proposed revision of Article 2 of the UUA’s bylaws. I rarely talk about GA because its impact on local congregations is usually quite minimal. This year is different because of the proposed Article 2 revision which, if you haven’t heard, was amended five times and passed with 83.6 percent of the delegates supporting it. As a reminder, Article 2 is the section of the UUA bylaws that names the seven principles of Unitarian Universalism and the six sources of our living tradition. The proposed revision would replace the seven principles with seven values—love, interdependence, pluralism, justice, equity, generosity, and transformation, along with covenantal commitments for living each of these values in the world. The six sources would be replaced by a brief paragraph entitled “Inspirations.” Because so many of us, myself included, have built our Unitarian Universalist identity and faith around the principles and sources (originally adopted in 1985), this is a big change. This year what happened at GA definitely impacts local congregations. Thanks to Ellen Williams, Anne Carr, Jean Knapp, Rhona Cohen and Carrie Kocher, who served as delegates from our congregation. Ellen and Ann were present in Pittsburgh, as was the Rev. Jean Wahlstrom who wasn’t a UUSE delegate. Jean, Rhona and Carrie were serving as remote delegates. There are two things I love about General Assembly that have nothing directly to do with Article 2. First, in all the years I’ve been attending GA—my first was in 1992—the collection of people who gather are far more diverse than what we find in most local congregations. Yes, the majority of GA attendees are older, white, cisgender people, mostly heterosexual; but there are significant numbers of Black, Indigenous and People of Color attendees, people with disabilities, transgender and non-binary people, gay and lesbian people. There are huge numbers of youth and young adults, hair dyed in all sorts of colors, and thousands of t-shirts with a wide array of messages: spiritual, social, political, cultural, humorous, serious, etc. We often talk about building an antiracist, multicultural, beloved spiritual community in Unitarian Universalism. In my experience, GA is the closet we come to that vision. Second, worship happens every day, and the worship music is phenomenal. No shade on Mary or any other local UU music director. GA has the resources to bring amazing and diverse music leaders, choir directors, singers and instrumentalists. The music is consistently compelling and inspirational, a reason in itself to attend in person. This year we elected the Rev. Dr. Sofía Betancourt as UUA president for a six-year term. This is exciting to me. I’ve known and admired Sofia for more than 20 years since we both worked at the UUA in the early 2000s. She has experience as a parish minister, a scholar, a writer, a seminary professor and dean, a UUA department director, a UUA interim president for three months in 2017, and recently as Resident Scholar and Special Advisor on Justice and Equity at the UU Service Committee. Her three priorities campaign priorities were communal care, collaborative leadership, and “facing the unknown together.” I want to pause on communal care briefly. During a meeting with clergy she was asked why church growth wasn’t one of her priorities. She responded—I’m paraphrasing—that Unitarian Universalism, like all organized religions, is still adapting to the disruptions of the pandemic. Right now we need to prioritize love and care for one another. Congregations that know how to do this are adapting well to the disruptions and growing. Congregations that don’t do this well are struggling. I needed to hear this. I felt she was affirming our reality here at UUSE. All through the pandemic we kept saying “Community, community, community.” It doesn’t matter exactly how we do worship during lockdown, focus on community. It doesn’t matter exactly how we do religious education for children during lockdown, focus on community. Community care mattered above all else for us. I continue to believe that’s why we are coming out of the pandemic in a really healthy position. It was good to hear our new president share that same insight. My reflections on Article 2 fall into three categories: language, process, and content. Regarding language, one of the primary concerns I heard at our Article 2 forums in May was that at least some of you don’t like the way the revision is written. Malcolm Barlow summed up this critique when he referred to the revision as “mush.” What he meant by that, if I understand correctly, is that the language of the current seven principles and six sources is simple and clear. The language of the proposed seven values and their covenantal commitments is not as simple, not as clear, not as memorable, and therefore doesn’t feel as powerful. The GA delegates amended the Article 2 revision in five places, but none of the amendments address this concern about the simplicity and clarity of the language. If you didn’t like the language of the proposed revision before GA because it lacks simplicity and clarity, you will likely still feel that way when you read the amended version which will be published soon. While I still balk at some of the language in the proposed revision—and while I still wish the language could be simpler and more poetic—I acknowledge it is growing on me as I spend more time with it. Regarding process, I’m not sure anyone, including UUA leadership, was satisfied with the process. I went to GA imagining the proposed revision would look significantly different by the time the delegates voted on a final version. I understood that the UUA Board and other denominational officials had the responsibility for sifting through the hundreds of proposed amendments and narrowing them down into broad categories. But I thought delegates would have more input into the final selection of amendments to be debated. We didn’t, and I still don’t understand how we got to the final 15 amendments. I know there was an official selection process; that it involved the UUA board, the Article 2 Commission, UUA lawyers and the parliamentarian; that it took into account delegate input from three online mini-assemblies in May; and that it was bylaw-driven, i.e., it was legal. I take our leaders at face value when they tell us this. I trust our leaders. I’m just not clear how they made their decisions about which amendments would be debated. I would have appreciated a more detailed explanation. One thing is apparent: they heard loudly and clearly that a significant number of delegates wanted a chance to vote on re-inserting the seven principles and the six sources into the Article 2 revision. Both of those amendments were included in the final set of 15. Both lost by significant margins. And this brings me to content. Even though I don’t love all the language of the revision; even though I didn’t love the process that led to the final version; I voted for it. I didn’t vote for it, as I some did, for the sake of keeping the conversation going for another year. I voted for it because I feel strongly that its content is the right content for Unitarian Universalism at this moment in our history. When I began my ministry in the late 1990s, I was concerned that Unitarian Universalism put too much emphasis on the individual and individuality, and not enough emphasis on community and the relational dimensions of our lives. I was trained to understand Unitarian Universalism as a covenantal faith, meaning that as we join together in spiritual community, we make commitments to each other, we make promises to each other, we are accountable to each other, we are obligated to care for each other. These things are central to our centuries-old tradition, and central to the practice of our faith today. Yes, we celebrate each individual’s uniqueness, gifts, creativity, experience and wisdom—that will not change. But we do that best in the embrace of a strong, healthy, vibrant community. I have been preaching some version of this message my entire career. The proposed Article 2 revision, in articulating—however poorly—our covenantal commitments to each other—by putting the emphasis on covenant—not only reclaims this essential part of our tradition (which was de-emphasized for much of the 20th century), but positions us to remain strong, vibrant and cohesive in the coming years which, we can predict, will be chaotic. This emphasis on covenant is an explicit reminder that our faith is more than a collection of unique individuals, that our faith gains power from the relational dimension of our lives; and that we are called to tend and nurture relationships within our congregations, among our congregations, with our friends and partners in the wider community, and with the Earth and all its creatures. I welcome the Article 2 revision’s emphasis on covenant. During Ministry Days prior to GA, the Rev. Ceclia Kingman delivered the latest Barry Street Essay, a long-standing, prestigious address to clergy. Her essay, “My Little Pony Was Right: Reflections on Fascisms Without and Within,” was a chilling report on the rise of fascism in the United States and a humbling reminder that here in little, blue, coastal Connecticut we are shielded from the worst manifestations of fascist trends in our nation. One of Rev. Kingman’s responders was the Rev. Elizabeth Stephens, minister of the UU Church of the Palouse in Moscow, Idaho. Rev. Stephens described her remarks as “a dispatch from behind enemy lines.” She said that at this point the state of Idaho is essentially under the control of fascist extremists. She talked about the criminalization of abortion, the criminalization of gender affirming care, legislative attacks on funding for anti-bullying programs, on libraries, on health care workers, on university faculties, and more. Idaho is also home to more right wing militias than any other state. She described one of their neighbors as a Dominionist cult. Their church, I’m sure, is a lot like our church. Moscow, ID, I’m sure, is a lot like Manchester, CT. But the social and political context is radically different. As she described the white truck that stalked her for weeks after she led the local women’s march, I feared for her life; and then wondered, could I do ministry there? Would I have the courage to say out loud in Idaho the things I say out loud in Connecticut? The proposed revision to Article 2 highlights and appropriately balances a tension in Unitarian Universalism between liberal religion and liberationist religion. If I may generalize, liberal religion supports the individual’s free and responsible spiritual search, interacts with the larger culture, takes seriously the results of scientific inquiry, promotes religious pluralism, and stays open to the emergence of new truths. Liberationist religion critiques power structures, challenges oppression, works for justice for all people. Since the founding of the Unitarian Universalist Association in 1961, UUs have been comfortable identifying as a liberal religion, less comfortable as a liberationist religion, though the latter is part of our spiritual inheritance. When I hear Rev. Stephen’s description of the social and political context in which she is doing ministry; and when I hear again and again from UUs and non-UUs here and around the country who are people of color, black, indigenous, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and non-binary, immigrants, non-Christian religious minorities, people with disabilities, and women about how extremist powers are slowly chipping away at their rights, their freedoms, their well-being, their mental health, their sense of safety, their community cohesion, I realize we need not only the bedrock of our liberal religious heritage, which is clearly articulated in the Article 2 revision; we also need a clear call to ministries of liberation. In my view, the proposed Article 2 revision gets the balance right. It does not signify, as some critics allege, a pivot to more social justice work, which by itself would be an evasion of both the liberal and liberationist traditions. Rather, it positions Unitarian Universalism as both a liberal and liberating faith able to minister with inclusive, caring and courageous love in a context of rising fascism and climate catastrophe in the United States and globally. For me, such ministry includes opportunities for rest and renewal, prayer and study, grieving and mourning, individual and collective spiritual practice, cultural celebration and exploration, remembering and honoring ancestors, artistry and creativity, nurturing resilience, practicing communal care and deepening relationships within the embrace of our sacred covenants however imperfectly articulated they may be. And love lives at the center. I preached in February on my great joy that the Article 2 revision puts love at the center of Unitarian Universalism. That joy has deepened since GA. Whether we’re talking about community care, confronting fascism, teaching religious education to kids, supporting immigrant families, ensuring everyone gets to share their point of view at the book discussion, promoting progressive legislation with the interfaith coalition, welcoming visitors on Sunday morning, or offering a safe place for people to be their whole and true selves, love is what enables the liberal and the liberation traditions to succeed as religious traditions. The love with which we engage matters. The love with which we speak matters. The love that guides us matters. And it matters that Article 2 locates that love at the heart of Unitarian Universalism. Amen and blessed be.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude Chalice Lighting and Opening Words “Prayer for Artists and Creatives” by Atena O. Danner Opening Hymn #182 “O, the Beauty in a Life” words based on text by Bishop Toribio Quimada music: traditional Visayan (Filipino) folk tune. O, the beauty in a life that illumines honor anew, that models wise and gracious ways to every seeker; that every day shall serve in joy and do the right. O, praise the life whose beauty shows a justice true. Let not service of the good be confined to great saints alone, but every hour be part of all our daily living. Set not the hope of wisdom’s grace beyond our ken; how wide the path, how close the goal, which love has shown. O, the beauty of a life that illumines care of the soul, that knows a love that is for self as well as others, that every day embodies praise for every good, this is the faith to which we turn, our God and goal. Meditation “Wade in the Water” by Sofía Betancourt Musical Meditation (Musical Meditation) Joys and Concerns Offering Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of July will be split among MACC Food Pantry, Hockanum Valley Food Pantry, CT Mutual Aid East of River Food Pantry. Offering Music Sermon “Emphasis on Covenant” by Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #34 “Though I May Speak with Bravest Fire” Words: Hal Hopson, based on 1 Corinthians 13:1-3 Music: traditional English melody Though I may speak with bravest fire, and have the gift to all inspire, and have not love, my words are vain as sounding brass and hopeless gain. Though I may give all I possess, and striving so my love profess, but not be given by love within, the profit soon turns strangely thin. Come, Spirit, come, our hearts control, our spirits long to be made whole. Let inward love guide every deed; by this we worship, and are freed. 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.

Order of Service July 16, 2023 “Among the Trees” Gathering Music Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude “Methuselah” By Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting Opening Words: Excerpt from “The Overstory” by Richard Powers For there is hope of a tree, if it goes down, that it will sprout again, and that its tender branches will not cease. Though the root grows in the earth, And the stock dies in the ground, at the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs. Opening Song “Standing Like a Tree” Plum Village Song Musicians: Mary Bopp, piano and Jeannine Westbrook, vocals Standing like a tree With my roots dug down My branches wide and open Come down the rain Come down the sun Come down the fruit to a heart that is open to be Standing like a tree Reading: “When I am Among the Trees” by Mary Oliver When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily. I am so distant from the hope of myself, in which I have goodness, and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often. Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, “Stay awhile.” The light flows from their branches. And they call again, “It's simple,” they say, “and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.” Guided Meditation: Lynn Dove Reading: George Jacobi, untitled, 2023, from the Joshua Trust newsletter Musical Interlude Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering Offering Music “The Loveliest of Trees” By John Duke Musicians: Mary Bopp, piano and Jeannine Westbrook, vocals Introduction of the Speakers 1st Speaker: Emery Gluck Musical Interlude 2nd Speaker: John Hankins Closing Hymn #21 “For the Beauty of the Earth” Words: Folliott Sandford Pierpoint Music: Conrad Kocher For the beauty of the earth, for the splendor of the skies, for the love which from our birth over and around us lies: Source of all, to thee we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise. For the joy of ear and eye, for the heart and mind’s delight, for the mystic harmony linking sense to sound and sight: Source of all, to thee we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise. For the wonder of each hour of the day and of the night, hill and vale and tree and flower, sun and moon and stars of light: Source of all, to thee we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise. For the joy of human care, sister, brother, parent, child, for the kinship we all share, for all gentle thoughts and mild: Source of all, to thee we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise. Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle

Order of Service Gathering Music: Welcome & Announcements: Prelude: Morning Has Broken, by Pg. 38 in Hymnal Chalice Lighting: Be Ours a Religion by Theodore Parker Introduction to Service Opening Song: Waiting for my Life to Begin by Colin Hay Joys and Concerns Musical Meditation Offering: Offering Music: Don’t Stop by Fleetwood Mac Reflection 1: Job Expectations Musical Meditation Reflection 2: Dog Gone It Closing Hymn: Just as Long as I Have Breath, Pg. 6 in Hymnal Extinguish Chalice Special Thanks Closing Words

Gathering Music – Mary Bopp Welcome & Announcements Prelude: “Song of the Soul” (Cris Williamson) performed by Janet Fall Centering Chalice Lighting & Opening Words “Affirmation” by Leonard Mason We affirm the unfailing renewal of life. Rising from the earth, and reaching for the sun, all living creatures shall fulfill themselves. We affirm the steady growth of human companionship. Rising from ancient cradles and reaching for the stars, people the world over shall seek the ways of understanding. We affirm a continuing hop That out of every tragedy the spirits of individuals shall rise to build a better world. Opening Hymn #38 “Morning Has Broken” Morning has broken like the first morning, Blackbird has spoken like the first bird. Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning! Praise for them springing fresh from the Word! Sweet the rain’s new fall sunlit from heaven, Like the first dewfall on the first grass. Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden, Sprung in completeness where God’s feet pass. Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning Born of the one light Eden saw play! Praise with elation, praise every morning God’s recreation of the new day! Joys & Concerns Reading “Why Freedom is Important” In 1775, Patrick Henry saw the war with England coming and he delivered an eloquent speech at the Second Virginia Convention in favor of raising a militia. With grand oratory, but oblivious to the irony, he said “There is no retreat except into the chains of slavery.” Henry owned dozens of slaves, yet he declared that he himself would never succumb to being a slave to King George, delivering the famous line: “Give me liberty or give me death!” What makes freedom so important that people die for it? The writer Emmaline Soken-Huberty offers ten reasons. Freedom means freedom of expression. We can speak our minds, but we can also express ourselves non-verbally, in art or movement. Hate speech is generally not considered a protected speech. Freedom means we can practice any religion or none at all. Freedom means a free press, including radio, TV, and the internet. We are free to vote, thereby protecting democracy. Although there is still prejudice, we are free to love who we want. We are still fighting for the freedom to be in charge of our own bodies, whether it’s the “right to choose” or to come out as LGBTQ. Freedom isn’t only about what you can do; it’s about what you’re protected from: things like slavery, discrimination, and harassment. Freedom is linked to happiness. Not all freedoms are equal. Of 38 nations surveyed in a Pew study, Americans valued free speech, freedom of the press, and the right to use the internet more than other countries did. Freedom evolves over time. In the early United States, most people didn’t believe “freedom” applied to everyone. It was limited to white, land-owning men. Things are different today, even as we continue to pursue full equality for all. Freedom is political. For centuries, people have twisted the meaning of freedom to serve their political interests. Freedom for abolitionists and feminists is very different from freedom for capitalists and corporations. When listening to politicians, we need to ask, “Whose freedom are they protecting?” Each freedom is charged with such deeply felt emotions that, like Patrick Henry, people have risked and will always continue to risk their lives for liberty. Offering Offertory Music: “Born Free” (John Barry) Mary Bopp Reading “The Way of the Explorer” (Edgar Mitchell) While on a lunar expedition in 1971, astronaut Edgar Mitchell had a transcendent experience while looking back at Earth from space. It came upon him unbidden, with warning, and shook him to his core. In his memoir “The Way of the Explorer”, he describes it like this: “Looking beyond the Earth itself to the magnificence of the larger scene, there was a startling recognition that the nature of the universe was not as I had been taught. My understanding of the separate distinctness and the relative independence of movement of these cosmic bodies was shattered. Seeing this blue and white planet floating there, seeing our sun setting in the background of the very deep black, velvety cosmos, I knew for sure in my gut that there was a purposefulness that was beyond man’s rational ability to understand. Here suddenly was a non-rational way of understanding that had been beyond my previous experience. Gazing through 240,000 miles toward the planet from which I had come, I suddenly experienced the universe as intelligent, loving, and harmonious.” He came home to Earth determined to live life to the fullest, to acquire more knowledge and to abandon the economic treadmill. He did this primarily by founding the Institute of Noetic Science for the study of consciousness and other related phenomena. Of his experience in space, he said further: “You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon…politics looks so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, ‘Look at that you son of a bitch.’” Sermon: “Let Freedom Ring” Judy Robbins, Guest Speaker from the Unitarian Society of Hartford Closing Hymn: “Everybody Ought to Know” (Sweet Honey in the Rock) led by Janet Fall Verse 1: Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know What freedom is What freedom is Verse 2: Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know What justice is What justice is Verse 3: Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know What friendship is What friendship is Verse 4: Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know What happiness is What happiness is Verse 5: Well, everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know Everybody ought to know What freedom is What freedom is Extinguishing the Chalice & Closing Words: “The Heart Knoweth” (Ralph Waldo Emerson) We have a great deal more kindness than is ever spoken. The whole human family is bathed with an element of love like a fine ether. How many persons we meet in houses, whom we scarcely speak to, whom yet we honor and who honor us! How many we see in the street, or sit with in church who though silently, we warmly rejoice to be with! Read the language of these wandering eye beams. The heart knoweth. Closing Circle After service conversation: Facilitated by Christina Bailey