By Madeliene Cahill From: “Protecting our Women and Girls” October 15, 2023, Sunday Service Here’s what I want you to know: Irrational jealousy Violent temper A need to control and isolate you. Does your partner exhibit these characteristics? They are the warning signs of a violent relationship. These signs are as clear as warning signs of skin cancer or diabetes; we need to post them in doctor’s offices, schools, grocery stores, churches. Do you find yourself looking at the ground when you are walking with your partner because you’re afraid that they will accuse you of making flirtatious eye contact with a random stranger. Do you ignore the server at a restaurant because your partner is watching you, ready to rage about any sign of friendliness you display? Are your friends used to text messages you’re your partner, checking to see if you are really with them? Does your partner punch the wall near your head, break items that are precious to you, threaten the children, kick the pets, drive dangerously in order to frighten you? Does your partner have a gun? Does your partner monitor the odometer on your car, monitor your phone records and credit card bills? Does your partner destroy or damage your work: schoolbooks are torn, work files disappear, artwork has paint spilled on it? Do you find your social circle shrinking because your partner says, “That friend of yours doesn’t like me; don’t spend time with them” or “You’re different after spending time with your sister; I think she’s bad-mouthing me.” Violent relationships typically start with verbal abuse…and then profound remorse and feigned bafflement: “I’ve never done that before; I don’t know what got into me. I’ll never do it again.” But then it escalates. The first pregnancy often coincides with the first punch. Why is this? Is the abuser jealous? Or do they feel more secure knowing that their partner is now permanently tied to them and will find it harder to leave? The most dangerous time in a violent relationship is when a woman tries to leave. That is when most murders of women occur. When I began work in what was then called the Battered Women’s Shelter movement, I was surprised to find that the most common question I was asked by friends and family was “Why do women stay?” Not “Why do men hurt the women they say they love?” I began to find the answer in the cases I worked with. They stayed because their husband threatened kill them, their children, or himself if they left. Domestic violence is the most common form of violence in the U.S. A woman is more likely to be murdered by her husband or boyfriend than by a stranger, an acquaintance, a family member, a friend. A woman is most likely to be murdered when she tries to leave. If you are in a situation like this, call the Connecticut Coalition against Domestic Violence hotline: (888) 774-2900, the National Domestic Abuse Hotline 800-799-7233, or visit thehotline.org. If your friend is in a situation like this, set aside a dresser for her in your home. Have her leave clothes, medications, copies of important papers for herself and her children there. If you think that your home is the first place her abuser would look for her, figure out another place for her to go—the closest police station or a friend of yours whom the abuser doesn’t know, for instance. Create an escape plan with her. What is the quickest route to her local police station? Who could she stay with who lives within her children’s school district, so that they don’t have to transfer schools? If you recognize your own behaviors in the list of warning signs of abuse, you can get help. Call the Connecticut Coalition against Domestic Violence, (888) 774-2900, the National Domestic Abuse Hotline 800-799-7233, or visit thehotline.org for names of therapists who can help you change your behavior. A reminder: Irrational jealousy Violent temper A need to control and isolate you If these behaviors sound familiar, please get help. No one should have to live in fear of the people they love.

Gathering Music Welcome and Announcements Prelude Music "Rise Up, Rise Up" Words and Music/Unknown Members of the Manchester Women's Sacred Singing Circle Led by Jeannette LeSure Opening Hymn "Hearts Are Healing Here" Words and Music/Unknown Members of the Manchester Women's Sacred Singing Circle Led by Jeannette LeSure Hearts are healing here. Mother Goddess hold us dear! In your light, our path is clear. Women's hearts are healing here. Introduction to the Service Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude "We Hear Your Cry" Words/Music: Shelley Graff Members of the Manchester Women's Sacred Singing Circle Led by Jeannette LeSure Reading: A Beat Poem written and read by Jessey Ina-Lee Hymn "Comfort Me Oh My Soul" #1002 in Singing the Journey Members of the Manchester Women's Sacred Singing Circle Led by Jeannette LeSure Comfort me, comfort me. Comfort me oh my soul. Comfort me, comfort me. Comfort me oh my soul. (Additional verses as needed:) Sing with me Speak for me Dance with me Offering The recipient of our community outreach offering in October is the University of Connecticut's Native American Cultural Program or NACP. NACP provides resources, services and community for UCONN's Native and Indigenous students and faculty, helps foster relationships with local tribal nations, and works towards building good relations between UCONN and the land. Offering Music "Cradle Me" Words/Music: Deborah Dougherty Members of the Manchester Women's Sacred Singing Circle Led by Jeannette LeSure First Homily: "What Can You (men) Do? (Madeleine Cahill) Interlude "Courage Sister" Attributed to the anti-Apartheid Movement of South Africa Members of the Manchester Women's Sacred Singing Circle Led by Jeannette LeSure Second Homily (Madeleine Cahill) Reading: "Take Back the Day" - Excerpts from a speech by Andrea Dworkin Read by Jessey Ina-Lee Closing Hymn "I Will Not Leave You Comfortless" Words/Music: Jan Phillips Members of the Manchester Women's Sacred Singing Circle Led by Jeannette LeSure I will not leave you comfortless, I will not leave you alone, I'll be there when you need me, At the light of every star and every dawn. 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 Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude "The Oneness of Everything" by Jim Scott, arr. by Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "Drawn Together" by Jennifer Gracen Opening Hymn "Gather the Spirit" #347 in Singing the Living Tradition Gather the spirit, harvest the power. Our sep'rate fires will kindle one flame. Witness the mystery of this hour. Our trials in this light appear all the same. Gather in peace, gather in thanks. Gather in sympathy now and then. Gather in hope, compassion and strength. Gather to celebrate once again. Gather the spirit of heart and mind. Seeds for the sowing are laid in store. Nurtured in love and conscience refined, With body and spirit united once more. Gather in peace, gather in thanks. Gather in sympathy now and then. Gather in hope, compassion and strength. Gather to celebrate once again. Gather the spirit growing in all, Drawn by the moon and fed by the sun. Winter to spring, and summer to fall, The chorus of life resounding as one. Gather in peace, gather in thanks. Gather in sympathy now and then. Gather in hope, compassion and strength. Gather to celebrate once again. Reading "We Are Connected" by Leslie Takahashi Introductions, Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering The recipient of our community outreach offering is the University of Connecticut's Native American Cultural Program or NACP. NACP provides resources, services and community for UCONN's Native and Indigenous students and faculty, helps foster relationships with local tribal nations, and works towards building good relations between UCONN and the land. Offering Music "You Will Be Found" by Benjamin Pasek and Justin Paul Sung by Jeannine Westbrook Homily "Coming Together for Our Lives" Closing Hymn "Go Lifted Up" #1057 in Singing the Journey Go lifted up, Love bless your way Moonlight, starlight Guide your journey into peace And the brightness of day. Extinguishing the Chalice and Closing Words "Out of Our Yearning" by Susan Manker-Seale 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.

"Coming Together for Our Lives." Our closing words stress the supreme value we place on fostering connection and community. Surgeon General Murthy says this is just what the doctor ordered for an "epidemic of loneliness." How are we called to serve? Coordinator: Vivian Carlson Here's a link to the latest Order of Service #eBlast

In order to make UUSE accessible to people with multiple chemical sensitivities and environmental illness, UUSE strives to be a low scent and chemical-free congregation and facility. UUSE asks congregants, staff, and contractual visitors to limit their use of scented products as much as possible and to refrain from using perfumes and colognes. For more information on the negative aspects of fragrance, click here.

Meet Reiki Master/Teacher Priscilla Gale and experience the soothing sounds of crystal singing bowls. Float blissfully into a deep meditative state where the tumultuous stresses of everyday life are cleared, cleansed and washed away. Sound vibration is extremely effective for reducing stress and anxiety. Join us in the Meeting Room at UUSE on Sunday, October 8th from 3:00 to 5:00 P.M. to experience it for yourself and -- Feel the Chi! Suggested donation is $15. For more information about Priscilla Gale and crystal sound healing, click here.

Rev. Josh Pawelek Unitarian Universalist Society East Manchester, CT October 1, 2023 During our offering Mary played ‘Adagio Cantabile’ from the late 18th, early 19th-century German composer Ludwig van Beethoven’s Sonata, Opus 13. Nearly 200 years after his death, whether one appreciates western classical music or not, Beethoven’s compositions sound like what most people think western classical music sounds like. What the average listener won’t know, unless they’ve had the opportunity to study European music history, is that Beethoven, grounded in the musical traditions of his time, was also breaking free from them, moving European music and the wider European culture from what historians call the classical era to the romantic era. Inspired by the philosophies and literature of the European Enlightenment, inspired by humanism, inspired by the French Revolution—he sought to express in his music ideas of human freedom and human dignity. This was radical and liberating for many audiences. However, two centuries later, unless you’re familiar with this history, you won’t realize just how radical and liberating this music was when it was first performed. Today, for most listeners, it just sounds like what most people assume classical music sounds like. The same can be said of our own Unitarian Universalist history. Early American Unitarians and Universalists, in the decades after the American Revolution, grounded in the religious traditions of their time, were also breaking free from them in search of religion that would uphold and celebrate human freedom and dignity. Inspired by some of the same Enlightenment sources as their European cultural contemporaries, they offered radical and liberating theologies which today, two centuries later, don’t seem all that radical and liberating unless we know the broader historical context. And of course the broader, historical context also complicates how we view these theologies once we recognize that they were advanced in their time by white men in dialogue almost exclusively with other white men. **** Our ministry theme for October is heritage. I want to briefly circle back around some thoughts I shared in a sermon last July in which I described 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. I said liberalism and liberation are both defining aspects of our spiritual heritage. I’d like explain in a little more depth what I mean when I refer to the liberal and liberation features of our heritage. To begin, to the best of my knowledge, our post-American Revolution spiritual forebears didn’t refer to themselves either as liberals or as liberationists. Spiritual and political liberty were important to them; but the terms “liberal’ and “liberation” appear more in the later histories about them, not in the words they uttered about themselves. The early Unitarians and Universalists, first and foremost, were devout Christians, attempting to adapt their Christianity to an emerging modern world, heavily influenced by the European Enlightenment. As much as they looked forward—as liberals and liberationists tend to do—they also looked back to the Bible, the teachings of Jesus, the history of the church, and their more recent but still centuries-old Puritan roots. They were liberal and liberatory in their theology, but their institutional context—the church—was ancient. For understanding our liberal theological heritage, I take most of my cues today from a 2005 book by my former theology professor, the Rev. Paul Rasor, entitled Faith Without Certainty: Liberal Theology in the 21st Century. Rasor says liberal theology assumes one can be “deeply religious and fully modern at the same time.” “From this orientation,” he writes, “liberal theology is characterized by commitments to free and open intellectual inquiry, to the autonomous authority of individual experience and reason, to the ethical dimensions of religion, and to making religion intellectually credible and socially relevant.” Again, these were values at the heart of the European Enlightenment that were making their way into New England’s congregational churches, as well as at least some of the seminaries that trained the ministers who served those churches. A fun connection: Rasor says scholars of religion generally agree that the first book on what we now call liberal theology was the German philosopher Friedrich Schleiermacher’s On Religion: Speeches to Its Cultured Despisers, published in 1799. That’s the same year Beethoven composed the “Adagio Cantabile” Mary played earlier. I don’t believe they knew each other, but Rasor names them both in the same sentence as contemporaries whose work helped spur the transition in European thought from the classical era to the romantic era. Regarding our liberation heritage, I take my cues from the 20th-century Unitarian theologian, Rev. James Luther Adams. During the mid-1930s Adams lived for extended periods in Germany where he observed the rise of fascism and the Nazi Party. This was also a time when liberalism and liberal theology were under attack academically, socially and politically. Adams felt called to articulate a strong, vibrant, relevant religious liberalism to his readers, parishioners and students, as well as to liberalism’s critics. To achieve that goal, he put liberation at the heart of liberalism. “Liberalism’s ‘general idea’” he wrote, “has been to promote liberation from tyranny, provincialism, and arbitrariness and thus to contribute to the meaningful fulfillment of human existence. This aspect of liberalism we may call its progressive element: it is always critical of the status quo and seeks new paths of fulfillment.” In these words I hear Adams channeling a tradition with ancient roots. He refers later to the Hebrew prophets who “repudiated the idea that the meaning of life is to be achieved either by exclusive devotion to ritual or by devotion to blood and soil, or by self-serving piety.” Rather, “the ‘Holy’ thing in life is the participation in those processes that give body and form to universal justice.” He refers to Jesus, who “deepened and extended that idea when he proclaimed that the kingdom of God is at hand. The reign of God,” he says, “is the reign of love, a love that fulfills and goes beyond justice, a love that cares for the fullest personal good of all.” He refers to the Protestant reformers, specifically what he calls the “Left Wing of the Reformation,” or the “Radical Reformation,” the hundreds of small Christian sects that organized in Europe during the 16th and 17th centuries, rejecting church hierarchies, claiming their own authority, calling and training their own clergy, developing their own rituals and, over time, eroding the power not only of “the church” but of royal families who, with church support, had long claimed a divine right to rule. I assume when Adams speaks of liberation he is also referring to the early American Unitarians and Universalists who rejected the older religious orthodoxies in favor of theologies that upheld and celebrated human freedom and dignity. In his own time Adams was deeply concerned about American racism as well as the dehumanizing impacts of unbridled capitalism. He saw that the liberal churches had become complacent and argued in a variety of ways that the liberal church must address these evils. In more recent times I contend it is our liberationist dimension that inspired the call for women to be allowed and encouraged to enter the professional ministry; that called for GLBTQ people be to welcomed into our congregations and also allowed and encouraged to enter the ministry; that created a space for earth-based and pagan spiritual practices and exploration; that continues to call us to the work of racial justice, disability rights, immigrants’ rights, environmental justice, religious pluralism, and radical, deeply inclusive hospitality. All of this, in my view, is the ongoing expression of the liberation dimension within our liberal religious heritage. This is not an easy heritage to inherit. There can be, and often is, tension between the liberationist dimension and the more general liberal religion in which it is embedded. Adams and Rasor both explore this tension in great detail. In short, liberal theology, and by extension, liberal congregations, engage with the wider culture, with the science of the day, with other religious world views, and with secular writers, musicians, poets and artists. We don’t draw a strict line between the sacred and the secular. Remember Rasor’s point about liberal theology’s assumption: one can be deeply religious and fully modern at the same time. However, when a liberal religious community is engaged with and influenced by the wider culture; when it welcomes that culture in and celebrates different aspects of it, it is also easy for that liberal religious community to miss, to turn away from, to forget the problems in that wider culture—economic injustice, racial injustice, homophobia, sexism, etc. It is easy to become complacent. Thus it is also easy for the problems of that wider culture to take hold within that liberal religious community. “May nothing evil cross this door” is a beautiful, necessary prayer. We sang it last Sunday. But it is no guarantee that the shadow side of the wider culture will not enter in as well. As it enters in, our liberation tradition responds, wakes us up, reminds us of our commitments, our promises, our covenants. It turns out that our prophetic challenges to the wider culture, i.e., “we need to confront racism out there,” are also always simultaneously prophetic challenges to ourselves. “We need to confront racism in the ways it manifests in here.” And there’s the tension. It’s an appropriate, healthy tension. It is actually a longstanding feature of our liberal religious heritage. It doesn’t feel good. It can be unpleasant. Yet it is one of the ways we grow as a community. As I head out on sabbatical for the next four months, I leave you with this message: Ours is a liberating, liberal faith. We need both. We need the liberal theological engagement with culture, science, the academy, the arts, and certainly with nature, because revelation is not sealed. New truths are always emerging. In order for us to stay vital and vibrant we must remain open to new sources of knowledge, wisdom, and faith. And we need the liberation dimension of our liberalism, because structures of tyranny, provincialism, and arbitrariness, to use Adams’ words, persist in society and need to be challenged with moral clarity and effective organizing. As these two aspects of our heritage interact, there will be tension. Undoubtedly we will not like the tension. But the tension is worth it. We cannot expand our vision of beloved community without it. We cannot widen the circle without it. We might even say that tension is the price we pay in exchange for the blessings of a beautiful, compelling, life-changing, and at times world-changing heritage. Amen and blessed be.

Gathering Music Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude Moment Musicaux no. 3 in f minor by Franz Schubert written in 1828 Chalice Lighting and Opening Words excerpt from "I Call That Church Free" by James Luther Adams Opening Hymn #12 "O Life That Maketh All Things New" Verses 1, 3 and 4 Music: Thomas Williams' Psalmodia Evangelica, 1789 Words: Samuel Longfellow O Life that maketh all things new, the blooming earth, our thoughts within, our pilgrim feet, wet with thy dew, in gladness hither turn again. One in the freedom of the truth, one in the joy of paths untrod, one in the soul's perennial youth, one in the larger thought of God; The freer step, the fuller breath, the wide horizon's grader view, the sense of life that knows no death, the Life that maketh all things new. Meditation "Turn Scarlet, Leaves!" words by Raymond J. Baughan, #45 in Singing the Living Tradition music by Mary Bopp Turn scarlet, leaves! Spin earth! Tumble the shadows into dawn. Tumble the shadows into dawn. Joys and Concerns Musical Meditation Offering The recipient of our community outreach offering is the University of Connecticut's Native American Cultural Program or NACP. NACP provides resources, services and community for UCONN's Native and Indigenous students and faculty, helps foster relationships with local tribal nations, and works towards building good relations between UCONN and the land. Offering Music Adagio Cantabile from Sonata Op. 13 (Pathetique) by Ludwig van Beethoven written in 1799 Reading excerpts from "Guiding Principles for a Free Faith" by James Luther Adams Silence Sermon "A Liberating, Liberal Faith" 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.

Sunday, October 29, 1:00 P.M. (originally planned for October 1st) The Denominational Affairs Committee will hold an informational meeting with guest Bill Young, secretary to the UUA. Bill will be here to discuss the proposed changes to Article II and answer any questions we have. He does need our questions prior to the meeting. Please send questions with a subject line of "DA Question" and any childcare needs with the subject line "Childcare" to Carrie Kocher by October 15.

Gathering Music Welcome & Announcements Centering Prelude Meditation on "Prayer for This House" by Robert N. Quaile Performed by Mary Bopp Introduction to the Service First Reading Musical Interlude Chalice Lighting and Opening Words Opening Hymn #1 "May Nothing Evil Cross This Door" (Also known as "Prayer for This House") Words: Louis Untermeyer Music: Robert N. Quaile Led by David Klotz May nothing evil cross this door, and may ill fortune never pry about these windows; may the roar and rain go by. By faith made strong, the rafters will withstand the battering of the storm. This hearth, though all the world grow chill, will keep you warm. Peace shall walk softly through these rooms, touching our lips with holy wine, till every casual corner blooms into a shrine. With laughter drown the raucous shout, and, though these sheltering walls are thin, may they be strong to keep hate out and hold love in. Joys & Concerns Musical Interlude Offering For the month of September, our Community Outreach offering will be shared by two organizations: Power Up brings much needed visibility to the ongoing realities of racism in Manchester and surrounding communities. Some UUSE members and friends have participated in Power Up's pantry, after school programs, rallies, protests and other actions. Manchester Latino Affairs Council The Manchester Latino Affairs Council (M.L.A.C.) was established in January of 2007. Its current mission is to address social issues with a focus on diversity, inclusivity and equality within Manchester's Latino community. MLAC sponsors Manchester's annual Hispanic Heritage Day, and is looking forward to its first public "Three Kings Celebration" in January and a "Latina Heart Health Walk" next April. Offering Music "Longing to Belong" by Mary Bopp Second Reading Musical Interlude Homily in Three Parts Jane Penfield and David Klotz Greg Dupuis Congregation Closing Hymn #128 "For All That is Our Life" Words: Bruce Findlow Music: Patrick L. Rickey Led by David Klotz 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. Extinguishing the Chalice and Closing Words 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.

In late September, the Aesthetics Committee will be mounting a new triptych. The current exhibit will come down to make room for autumn-themed artwork. The first exhibit was such a success, we are limiting this one to a single submission for each person. Members who are poets may wish to enter an original poem. As with artwork, poetry must be framed in order to be hung on the exhibit rails. If you would like to participate, please email Carolyn Emerson. Include the following information: Your name, title of artwork or poem, framed size, phone, email price or NFS (not for sale). Questions? 860-646-5151.

04/01/12 The Rev. Josh Pawelek Video here In his new book, A Universe From Nothing,[1] cosmologist Lawrence M. Krauss attempts to definitively answer an ancient question: “Why is there something, rather than nothing?” I’d like to play around with this question this morning—the question of creation. How did the universe, our planet, and life on our planet come to be? How did it all begin? This question lies at the heart of the religious imagination. This question lies at the heart of the scientific imagination. But perhaps it’s most accurate to say, simply, this question lies at the heart of the human imagination. I say this because most of us, at some point in our lives—or at many points in our lives—have experiences wherein we encounter some feature of our surroundings in a special or unique way—whether by seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting or touching—something takes us by surprise, something takes our breath away—as if we’re encountering it for the very first time—we become awestruck, and we wonder: how did all this all begin? These shining stars, this blazing sun, this waxing and waning moon, this solid, green earth, these rolling oceans, these towering mountains, this moist air, this newborn baby, these breathing lungs, this beating heart: how is it possible all this exists? I suspect most of you have asked this question in some way, have wondered about our origins in some way, at some point in your lives. How did it all begin? Why is there something, rather than nothing? I also assume most people wonder for a few moments, ask the question—how did this all begin?—and then realize the answer is pretty much beyond the capacity of the human mind to fathom. The wondering ends as they go back to whatever it was they were doing. Except there have always been some people who, for whatever reason, can’t let the question go. They keep wondering. They say, “no, this is not beyond our ability; we can figure this out!” They try to make their human minds fathom creation. They are usually either scientists or theologians. And I notice that, for them, the question mutates a bit. It’s not just, “Why is there something, rather than nothing?” It becomes “Did the universe arise out of nothing?” Or “Did the universe arise out of something?” Something from nothing? Or something from something else? The theologians argue amongst themselves. The scientists argue amongst themselves. And of course, as they argue amongst themselves, the theologians—at least the more conservative ones—contend that the scientists are utterly wrong. And the scientists—at least the more secular ones—contend that the theologians are utterly wrong. For a traditional theological example of the debate over creation from nothing or something, if you were to open a Bible and turn to the very first word on the very first page of the very first book—and if you were reading in ancient Hebrew—the word you would encounter is bereshit. In English the typical translation of bereshit is “In the beginning.” The whole sentence is typically rendered as “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth.” But another translation is possible. The sentence can also be rendered as “When God set out to create the heavens and the earth.” For centuries, if not millennia, in a variety of languages, theologians have debated which version is more accurate, which version might be more akin to how the ancient Israelites understood it, or which version is more in keeping with the latest church doctrine. It might not sound like an important distinction to our modern ears, especially to those with modern liberal religious ears, but it turns out there’s a lot at stake in how one translates bereshit. In short, the more common translation—“In the beginning”—suggests the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo—creation out of nothing—the doctrine that God existed first, before anything else, and that God caused all material to come into existence in order to create the heavens and the earth. The other, less common translation—“When God set out to create”—suggests the doctrine of creatio ex materia—creation out of material, out of stuff, out of things—the doctrine that something existed before God, and God used it to create the heavens and the earth.[2] Turning to science, consider Krauss’ book, A Universe From Nothing. Full disclosure: I have not read Krauss’ book, and I probably won’t read it unless Fred Sawyer purchases a sermon (which he has) and asks me to preach on it. I have read Columbia professor of philosophy David Albert’s recent review of the book. Apparently Krauss argues that the laws of quantum mechanics provide “a thoroughly scientific and adamantly secular explanation”[3] of the origins of the universe. In short, the universe emerged from a quantum vacuum state, which Krauss defines as nothing, hence the title of the book, A Universe From Nothing. It’s a scientific version of creatio ex nihilo. Albert, who is also an expert in quantum mechanics, flatly rejects Krauss’ thesis, saying it’s “just not right”[4]—though he doesn’t offer an alternative answer to the creation question in the book review. But fear not! Another book I haven’t read—and won’t read unless Fred Sawyer asks me to—is Endless Universe: Beyond the Big Bang by physicists Paul Steinhardt and Neil Turok.[5] They propose the “Cyclic Universe” theory which suggests “the Big Bang was not the beginning of time but the bridge to a past filled with endlessly repeating cycles of evolution.”[6] A scientific version of creatio ex materia! The universe is recycled from the material of countless prior universes. Again, I think it’s kinda funny and even provocative that the theologians and the scientists are having the same debate within their respective fields. What they talk about and how they get there are radically different, but it comes down to the same two conclusions: creation from nothing or something. Our ministry theme for April is creation. I admit we did not choose this theme so that we could spin our heads around theological and scientific arguments about the origins of the universe. We chose this theme primarily to match the season, the beginning of spring in New England, the time in the cycle of the year when Earth’s creative energy is immediate and sensual to us; the time in the cycle of the year when the smells, sights, tastes, sounds and the feel of new life are immediate and sensual to us: the fresh air, the first flowers pushing through the barren ground; the first buds on trees and bushes and shrubs; blooming forsythias, azaleas, daffodils, tulips and dogwoods dotting the land; soil turned over and ready for planting; bird-song chiming in the pre-dawn hours; earth worms digging; moles tunneling through our lawns; mice and voles rummaging through our basements, or garages or sheds; grease ants traipsing through our cupboards or across our kitchen floors; mud after the first spring rains; warmth after the long, grey winter. In the words we heard earlier from e.e. cummings, it is the time in the cycle of the year “for the leaping greenly spirits / of trees / and a blue true dream of sky; and / for everything / which is natural which is infinite / which is yes.”[7] It’s a heady season: impetuous, adolescent, lusty, exhilarating, earthy, feverish, sexy and creative. Yes, spring is Earth’s season for creation. When I started putting my thoughts together for this sermon, I imagined I was going to say something different about creation. Well, not just different—something really cool, hip, clever, maybe a little quirky, but definitely unexpected and outside the box of the usual ways of answering the question of creation. In our weekly UUS:E eblast I even suggested I would offer a new question entirely. My intuition told me there’d be a new question come Sunday morning. But it never came. I don’t have a new question. It turns out I have deeply partisan convictions when it comes to the debate over creation out of nothing or something. But late Friday afternoon I was still trying to figure it out. Do you remember Friday afternoon? It was beautiful. Having already kicked the boys outside to play in the yard before dinner, I decided to join them. Intuition told me that getting away from the sitting-at-the-computer-trying-to-make-my-brain-fathom-where-the-universe-came-from mode and spending some time outside in the dirt with children might help. The Outdoor Car Tournament Track! When I arrived outside, Mason ask if we could hold a “car tournament.” To hold a car tournament we first have to build a track for our Matchbox and Hotwheels cars. Once the track is built, we race the cars down it one after the other. If they fall off the track, they’re out. If they make it all the way down, they move onto the next round. There are fewer and fewer cars each round. When there’s one car left we have a winner. Then we start over. When we do this outside, we build the track out of pieces of wood from an old swing-set/play-scape that I store under the shed. We prop it up with bricks, buckets and other junk we have lying around. It takes a while to build because the long, flat pieces of wood need to line up just right so that the cars can drive over them seamlessly. We really get into it. We lose ourselves in it. And there we were, lost in it, building our track with the bright sun beginning to set in the western sky; dust rising around us from our busy work on the track; the azalea and forsythia bushes in full bloom all around us; spring’s fragrant, fresh air smell in our nostrils; bees buzzing; and the sounds of other kids playing in other yards echoing around the neighborhood—an utterly different experience from sitting-at-the-computer-trying-to-make-my-brain-fathom-where-the-universe-came-from. It’s hard to find words, but I’m trying to describe a full-bodied, sensual experience—as in all five senses engaged. This is the poet cummings asking “how should tasting touching / hearing seeing / breathing—lifted from the no / of all nothing—human merely / being / doubt unimaginable You?”[8] This is a physical experience, a bodily experience, a yoga experience, an embedded experience, a grounded experience where instinct matters more than thought, where the present moment outweighs the past and the future, where the need for play subdues the need for work, and where creativity abounds—not only in our play, but in the color, the fragrance, the energy, the returning life flowing through everything around us. Spring is Earth’s season for creation. And this is what I observe: we create out of the materials at hand—pieces of wood, bricks, buckets, junk. We do not create out of nothing. And the Earth around us creates out of the materials at hand—water, soil, sunlight, air; not out of nothing. In this little dell at the bottom of our hill, where the ground is soft, where the water runs to after the rains, where moss will blanket the ground by the middle of May—in this little Eden—everything is created from something. I don’t offer this observation in order to win an argument over the correct way to imagine the origins of the universe. I don’t need to win that argument and besides, the words imagination and correct don’t really belong in the same sentence anyways. I suspect some physicists and theologians alike may object to this, but to some degree all our efforts to answer the questions of creation are acts of imagination. So it strikes me that in addition to physicists and theologians, we also need to consult storytellers and poets for their insights. When we do that a picture of our origins begins to emerge—not a proof, not the findings of literary and linguistic Biblical analysis, not the results of rigorous tests of scientific models, not even something we can say is true in any objective sense—but a picture of what resides in the collective human imagination: creation arises out of something. My search this week has not been exhaustive, but I cannot find a creation story from any culture—ancient or modern—where creation arises out of nothing. So often creation arises out of some massive explosion, some obliterating flood, some destructive catastrophe that ended an earlier age. I read to you earlier a brief version of “Icanchu’s Drum” from the Wichí people of northern Argentina and Southern Bolivia. The new world arises out of the ashes of the previous world, specifically out of a charcoal stump Icanchu is using as a drum. “Playing without stopping, he chanted with the dark drum’s sounds and danced to its rhythms. At dawn on the New Day, a green shoot sprang from the coal drum and soon flowered as Firstborn tree, the Tree of Trials at the Center of the World. From its branches bloomed the forms of life that flourish in the New World.”[9] In other stories, creation arises out of a kind of disordered, ominous, dark chaos. The Boshongo people of the Congo speak of a primordial, watery darkness in which the God Bumba sleeps.[10] Some of the Chinese origin myths involving the God Pan Gu speak of a big, gooey mess surrounding a large, black egg.[11] Even the Biblical book of Genesis speaks of a wind moving across the face of the waters prior to God’s first act of creation. From our story-telling selves, our poetic selves, our intuitive selves, the picture of creation that emerges is ex materia. Creativity, to become real, to have some physical result in the world, must act upon some thing. Judging by the stories we human beings have told ourselves over the millennia, we have a collective hunch that the universe arose out of something, not nothing. Friday night one of my best friends in the world called from Boston. His wife had just gone into labor—their first child. I took the call as an affirmation, a sign, a reminder of yet another way to look at origins. None of us came into the world out of nothing. We came as muscles began to contact; we came as a jolt, a bump, a wind, a cut awakened us from our primordial slumber. We came out of the dark, still waters of our mother’s womb. We came into the world in a gooey mess of blood and amniotic fluid. In the end, the stories we tell of creation (as distinct from our scientific and theological analyses) are not meant to be factual. That’s why we call them myths and poems. They are meant to tell us something about ourselves and the universe we inhabit. But even if we’ve never heard them, our bodies seem to know: however it all began, a creative drive lives at the heart of the universe and lives in each of us; and it is, like spring, heady, impetuous, adolescent, lusty, exhilarating, earthy, feverish, sexy. When we set out to create, our bodies know even if our minds don’t, if we want our creations to be real—if we want them to manifest in ways we can see, hear, taste, smell and touch—then we must create out of the materials at hand. I’m not sure there’s any other way. We must create out of some thing. In this light, creation out of nothing is just hard to imagine. Amen and Blessed Be. [1] Krauss, Lawrence M., A Universe From Nothing: Why There is Something Rather Than Nothing (New York: Free Press, 2012). [2] I found two blogs that explain the difference between creatio ex nihilo and creatio ex materia. Check out: http://www.religioustolerance.org/crebegin.htm http://www.evolutionfairytale.com/forum/index.php?showtopic=3507 [3] Albert, David, “On the Origins of Everything,” New York Times Book Review, March 25, 2012, p. 20. [4] Ibid., p. 21. The full quote is: “But that’s just not right. Relativistic-quantum-field-theoretical vacuum states—no less than giraffes or refirgerators or solar systems—are particular arrangements of elementary physical stuff.” [5] Steinhardt, Paul J. & Turok, Neil, Endless Universe: Beyond the Big Bang (New York: Doubleday, 2007). [6] http://endlessuniverse.net/. [7] cummings, e.e. “I thank you god for most this amazing day” in Singing the Living Tradition (Boston: Beacon Press and the Unitarian Universalist Association, 1993) #504. [8] Ibid. [9] Sullivan, Lawrence E., Icanchu’s Drum: An Orientation to Meaning in South American Religions (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1988) frontispiece and p. 92. [10] Dawkins, Richard The Magic of Reality: How We Know What’s Really True (New York: Free Press, 2011) p. 161. [11] Ibid., p. 161.