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Gathering Music     Welcome & Announcements   Centering   Prelude:   “Simple Gifts Meditation” Trad. Shaker hymn, arr. by Mary Bopp   Chalice Lighting and Opening Words From “Benediction” by Bernadette Miller   Introducing the Service   Opening the Quarters     Opening Hymn   # 361  “Enter, Rejoice and Come In” by Louise Ruspini Enter, rejoice, and come in. Enter, rejoice, and come in. Today will be a joyful day; enter, rejoice, and come in. Open your ears to the song ... Open your hearts ev'ryone ... Don't be afraid of some change ... Enter, rejoice, and come in ...   Welcoming Visitors, Joys and Concerns   Musical Interlude   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 shared with MACC Food Pantry (Manchester), Hockanum Valley Food Pantry (Vernon) and CT Mutual Aid East of the River Food Pantry (East Hartford).   Offering Music “Ordinary Miracles” by Mary Bopp   Reading “Messenger” by Mary Oliver   First Reflection: “Reflections on Solstice” (Ellen Williams)   Second Reflection: “Living Simply Amidst Chaos” (Vivian Carlson)   Closing the Quarters   Closing Hymn #16   “Tis a Gift to be Simple” by Joseph Bracket, American Shaker tune 'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free, 'tis a gift to come down where we ought to be, and when we find ourselves in the place just right, 'twill be in the valley of love and delight. When true simplicity is gained, to bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed. To turn, turn will be our delight, 'till by turning, turning we come 'round right.   Closing Words  “Choose to Bless the World”  by Rev. Dr. Rebecca Parker   Extinguishing the Chalice   Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp)   Welcome & Announcements (Stacey Musulin)   Centering (Martha Larson)   Prelude                                              “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free” Music by Billy Taylor, Lyrics by Billy Taylor & Dick Dallas Vocals: Melissa Paul-Perez Drums: Bob Janes  Piano: Mary Bopp   Introduction to the Service     Chalice Lighting & Opening Words                        "Beacon of Freedom" by Tracy Johnson   We kindle our chalice flame this morning Awakening the fire of our ancestors in our hearts. Beacon of freedom held out to light the way Light of reason illuminating the path Spark of courage igniting our Spirits Aglow with hope for all we endeavor to do together Holy flame of times past, brighten this present moment That we may be the Love that is our center and our foundation, both. Blessed be.   Opening Hymn                                 “I’m On My Way” #116 Words & Music: Traditional African American folk Arranged by Mary Allen Walden Hymn Leader: Melissa Paul-Perez  I’m on my way to the freedom land I’m on my way to the freedom land I’m on my way to the freedom land I’m on my way, great God, I’m on my way.   I asked my sister, come and go with me. I asked my sister, come and go with me. I asked my sister, come and go with me. I’m on my way, great God, I’m on my way.   I asked my brother, come and go with me. I asked my brother, come and go with me. I asked my brother, come and go with me. I’m on my way, great God, I’m on my way.   If they say no, I’ll go anyhow. If they say no, I’ll go anyhow. If they say no, I’ll go anyhow. I’m on my way, great God, I’m on my way.   I’m on my way, and I won’t turn back. I’m on my way, and I won’t turn back. I’m on my way, and I won’t turn back. I’m on my way, great God, I’m on my way.   Time for All Ages                            "Under the Quilt of Night" By Deborah Hopkinson Illustrated by James D. Ransome     Welcoming Visitors and Joys & Concerns   Musical Response                            Prayer                                                             Prayer for Juneteenth                                                         By Addae Ama Kraba   Creator of All, As believers in justice, Woven into a single garment of life. Making us one with the human family, Let us rejoice for those who safely passed through the shades of night towards the daylight of freedom. Spirit of all possibilities, may we be blessed with true freedom, Free of all oppressions. Spirit of hope, With grateful hearts We lift our voices in shared solidarity, Holding each other safe In the fire of justice and the light of love. Amen/Blessed Be   Offering Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our undesignated Sunday plate collections during the month of June will be shared with Trans Voices and Visibility (TV-365). TV-365 is a ministry of the Metropolitan Community Church in Hartford, dedicated to uplifting and supporting the well-being of transgender individuals in Connecticut by providing basic human needs, information and referral, service coordination and support to individuals. This ministry also works to support and collaborate with relevant support groups and service providers. The emphasis is on those most underserved, neglected, victimized and oppressed, which includes, but is not limited to, transgender women and men of color, those with disabilities, youth and elderly, immigrants (documented and undocumented), low income and victims of crime.   Offering Music “Meditation On Lift Every Voice and Sing” By Mary Bopp on piano     Sermon "What Does YOUR Quilt Say?" Stacey Musulin                                                 Closing Hymn                                "Circle 'Round for Freedom" Words and Music 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.   Chalice Extinguishing                   "The Limits of Tyrants" #579 By Frederick Douglass   Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet deprecate agitation, are people who want crops without plowing up the ground.   They want rain without thunder and lightning; they want the ocean without the awful roar of its waters.   This struggle may be a moral one; or it may be both moral and physical, but it must be a struggle.   Power concedes nothing without a demand; it never did and it never will.   Find out what people will submit to, and you have found out the exact amount of injustice which will be imposed on them.   The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress.   Closing Words                                 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.

GA 2025 Sunday Morning Order of Service June 22, 2025 “Revolution Begins with a Dream” Ingathering Songs led by Natasha Steinmacher and Rev. Verdis LeVar Robinson, GA Band - Carl Kennedy - leader/piano, Joshua Long - guitar, Delorean Fullington - bass, Keith Butler, Jr.- drums Morning Has Broken by Eleanor Farjean Rising Green by Carolyn McDade Down By The Riverside African American Spiritual Centering Music I Feel Your Spirit by Sheri Jones–Moffett and Daniel Moore arr. Rev. Verdis LeVar Robinson GA Choir, GA Band, Dr. Jolie Rocke - soloist Calling the Ancestors & Invocation Rev. Connie Simon Chalice Lighting Rev. Dr. Omega Burckhardt, Rev. Connie Simon, Rev. Chris Jimmerson Opening Hymn Gather the Spirit by Jim Scott Rev. Verdis LeVar Robinson, Natasha Steinmacher Time for All Ages/Story “Living Our Values to Meet the Moment” written and told by Julie Rigano Offering South Baltimore Community Land Trust Offertory Love is the Most Excellent Way by JoyAnne Amani Richardson GA Choir, Carl Kennedy Prayer Rev. Dr. Omega Burckhardt Musical Response I Choose Love by Mark Miller GA Choir, Carl Kennedy, Allison Charette - soloist Message “Revolution Began with a Dream” Rev. Dr. Nicole Kirk Musical Interlude We Are by Dr. Ysaye M. Barnwell Natasha Steinmacher, GA Choir, GA Band Message “Revolution Begins with a Dream” Rev. Dr. Nicole Kirk Closing Anthem All Around by Curt Coffield, Israel Houghton, and Aaron Lindsey arr. Rev. Verdis LeVar Robinson, GA Choir, GA Band, Sarah Vinolus - soloist Charge to the Descendants (includes releasing ancestors) Rev. Dr. Nicole Kirk, Rev. Connie Simon, Rev. Dr. Omega Burckhardt Musical Blessing Higher Ground by Stevie Wonder soloist - Dr. Jolie Rocke, GA Choir, GA Band

Welcome (Emmy Galbraith) Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "Fifth Sonata" Antonio Vivaldi Elliot Vadas, cello Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "Your Children" By Kahlil Gibran Opening Hymn #123 "Spirit of Life" By Carolyn McDade Spirit of Life, come unto me. Sing in my heart all the stirrings of compassion. Blow in the wind, rise in the sea; move in the hand, giving life the shape of justice. Roots hold me close; wings set me free. Spirit of life, come to me, come to me. Reflection Slideshow Joys & Concerns Musical Meditation Offering Trans Voices and Visibility-365 (TV-365) is a ministry of the Metropolitan Community Church in Hartford, dedicated to uplifting and supporting the well-being of transgender individuals in Connecticut by providing basic human needs, information and referral, service coordination and support to individuals. This ministry also works to support and collaborate with relevant support groups and service providers. Our emphasis is on those most underserved, neglected, victimized and oppressed. This includes, but is not limited to, transgender women and men of color, those with disabilities, youth and elderly, immigrants (documented and undocumented), low income and victims of crime. Offering Music "Cats in the Cradle" By Harry Chapin Will Alexson, guitar and vocals Recognition & Gratitude Musical Interlude Bridging Distinguished Youth Service Award Words from the Minister Closing Hymn #65 "The Sweet June Days" Words by Samuel Longfellow Music, traditional English Melody The sweet June days are come again; once more the glad earth yields its golden wealth of rip'ning grain, and breath of clover fields, and deep'ning shade of summer woods, and glow of summer air, and winging thoughts and happy moods of love and joy and prayer. The sweet June days are come again; the birds are on the wing; bright anthems, in their merry strain, unconsciously they sing. Oh, how our cup o'er brims with good these happy summer days; for all the joys of field and wood we lift our song of praise. 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.

Nadia Sims is the Poet Laureate for the Town of Manchester. Currently, the poet is focused on spreading her message of grace across CT, NY, and MA. The Princeton graduate is the proud author of "A Soft Place to Land," "We Know the Dark" and her newly released collection "Apostle, Interrupted" . Her spoken word album, "The Weight of Grace," is available here , here and here and pretty much everywhere else. Nadia Sims   “A Poet’s Purpose” ©Nadia Sims, 2025   To listen and translate The murmurings of life To catch darkness’ secrets And find the wound To not just hear the wind at the tops Of the trees, but to interpret God’s whisper To witness rage and terror and call them Twins by blood and name To hear the laughter of a baby And liken it to the birth of joy To not just see the silver lining But to sew tapestries with it that bind The world to a common understanding To give pain meaning To give love a fighting chance and Hope good soil to grow To say: You were seen And never created in vain   “Boxes” ©Nadia Sims, 2025   In the census of life, Poverty was the first box I ever checked See, I didn’t know I was broke Until the Scholastic Book Fair Came in the first grade and I Had just enough money to window shop Books are a luxury when you’re scraping Pennies together for milk I lived in that box of rice, beans, government cheese, Boiled water for baths and lights that never stayed On for a while – but true darkness didn’t come until My stepfather called gays an abomination And I found myself in a closet – not because I was sure of my sexuality, but because being questionable wasn’t safe in that space – there were already so many things to hate about me in that place – I was already fat, lazy and not his child, I wasn’t Going to give him something else to hate to my face So, I hid behind grades and a grin that said Everything was great on my face I didn’t know what it meant to be Black Until I went to a university where everyone else wasn’t And worked 3 jobs to live and still left with debt Worked twice as hard because I knew half as much and all I could depend on was myself A two for one – poor and Black, both boxes checked   And then I found out my body was in danger of being labeled There are just too many things that I’m not physically able How can I go about the business of a woman’s work When the parts that make me a woman don’t really work? When diabetes doesn’t want me to win? And I’m half a donut away from needing insulin? Single, barren, diabetic – check, check, check Queer, Black woman – check and double check Well, at least I’m American I was born here, right? Even with all my checkboxes, I still have some rights And maybe if I live quietly, I can hide in plain sight Except I can’t Because boxes become targets My stepfather taught me that – That boxes become topics And labels you can’t take back Become headlines and catchphrases Become the names on t-shirts And loud cries asking why And hashtags And cautionary tales And Hollywood films where checkboxes die And the actors who play them win awards While we hold the picket lines And swap out signs to keep up with today’s crisis Like due process and corruption and is it safe to be where Ice is   It wasn’t until recently that I realized I was broken And rapidly breaking from my fears unspoken That there are too many boxes Too many marks against me That there’s no safe place to hide No safe way to be me And that’s no way to live In the land of the free     “Checking Boxes” Rev. Josh Pawelek [To Nadia:] Thank you for this poem. And thank you for your next poem, which I had an opportunity to read a few weeks ago when you wrote it, and all I could say was “wow!” Thank you for being here this morning and sharing some truths about yourself. Thank you for your vulnerability. Thank you for your witness. Thank you for coming here with the poet’s purpose in your heart, mind and soul which you begin to describe in your poem, “A Poet’s Purpose,” as listening and translating the murmurings of life, catching darkness’ secrets, finding the wound, and not just hearing the wind at the tops of the trees, but interpreting God’s whisper.   [To the congregation:] Our ministry theme for June is freedom . In early May Nadia and I had a conversation about freedom and how we might explore it together on a Sunday morning in this space. We landed on boxes. Whether we like it or not, we Americans are a box-checking people. Nadia refers to the census of life. I’m mindful that every decade when the United States census comes around, we check off boxes on the form. We check a box to indicate our financial relationship to our home (owned by you or someone in this household with a mortgage or loan? Owned by you or someone in this household free and clear (without a mortgage or loan)? Rented? Occupied without payment of rent?). We check a box to indicate our sex (male or female are the only options if I remember correctly). We check a box to indicate whether we are of Hispanic, Latino, or Spanish origin. And we check a box to indicate our race. I’ll just say, in my view, given the wide variety of choices and the way they are listed on the page, there’s some profound confusion at the Census Bureau about what race actually is (though that’s a message for a different Sunday). My point is we are invited, asked, expected, required to identify pieces of ourselves by checking boxes. In doing so we, often very innocently, box ourselves in. It's not just government agencies, and all the other form-using entities with which we interact—health care providers and insurance companies being perhaps the most prominent deployers of forms to gather data. It’s the census of life. We box each other in, often out of ignorance or our own insecurities. We box ourselves in, sometimes without realizing we’re doing it, sometimes very intentionally, to stay safe, to survive. Nadia speaks about the way her step father boxed her in; and how in response, for safety, she boxed herself in further. Again, Nadia, thank you for this sharing, your vulnerability, your translations of life’s murmurs, your catching of darkness’ secrets. I haven’t written my own poem, my “Boxes” companion piece. I would like to. It would sound very different from Nadia’s, a reminder that some boxes confer privilege—even power—to those who can check them off. My poem might say something about remembering my parents purchasing their first home and filling the shelves around the fireplace with books from their college days. There would be a line in my poem about three square meals a day and those white powdered mini-donuts after-school snacks. There’d be a whole stanza on music lessons, little league baseball, and summer vacations on North Carolina’s Outer Banks; maybe another on our Unitarian Universalist congregation. My poem would veer into confession, would lift up my childhood assumption that everyone lives this way or close to it; would name, with some embarrassment—though I can handle it—that I was oblivious not only to the boxes others were checking, or the way oppression was boxing them in, but oblivious to the boxes I was checking—white, straight, middle-class, able-bodied, college bound—and oblivious to the truth those boxes and others were creating limits and boundaries, shaping and curtailing—dare I say colonizing—my life in subtly pernicious ways, even though I felt free, unbounded, unlimited. It is the land of the free after all. Isn’t that how we’re supposed to feel? My life was real and I wouldn’t trade it; but my poem would call that freedom-feeling an illusion, paid for with the back-breaking, exploited labor of people I would never know. My poem would invite contemplation and struggle. I was four years old when Fannie Lou Hamer took the stage at the National Women’s Political Caucus and uttered those immortal words, “Nobody’s free until everybody’s free.” That would be the struggle my poem invites. My poem might even end with that quote. My poem would end there, with an implicit, if not explicit, invitation to struggle for everyone’s freedom. And I would have to add a similar invitation to struggle for the earth’s freedom, because she too is boxed in. This would not be an invitation to struggle alone, of course, but to join with people who are already confronting, subverting and redesigning all the ways the census of life confers privilege and power on some and harms many others. I am mindful there are some boxes we might really want to check. I think that’s what Pride is all about. People check their gay, lesbian, bisexual, polyamorous, pansexual, transgender, gender non-conforming, gender-bending, gender fluid, intersex, 100% queer boxes in a big public way in June—out loud, proud, celebratory. This is who I am! This is who we are! We deserve and claim space in this society. We are Americans too! We are human beings too! Though it's not my identity, I have some sense of how freeing it is to check the Pride box in a moment when the federal government is doing everything it can to erase it. But ultimately, there’s something utterly inhuman about checking boxes, because each of us has pieces of ourselves that just don’t fit into the boxes we’re offered. Each of us, to quote Nadia, has pieces of ourselves that are questionable. Our lives are much more grey than black and white. Beauty, complexity, mystery and transformation reside in the grey spaces. But when we box ourselves in, we lose that. We lose all the unique, quirky, off-beat parts of ourselves that make us us. In the end, we need a practice of unchecking the boxes.             “Unchecked” ©Nadia Sims, 2025   When I turned 33, I asked God, “what did you make me?” He answered, “a beautiful misfit.” Said, “I never intended for you to be like anyone else – What your family never seemed to like What your friends couldn’t find a way to love I designed it on purpose I designed you on purpose   You are wild and weird and wired a little wrong How else would you break ceilings and switch lanes And defy gravity? You are loud, chaotic, and boisterous How else would you disrupt the norm and break strongholds? What is good about a messenger that cannot be heard?   You make mistakes. You stumble. You’re clumsy. How else would you learn empathy and fortitude? To keep walking through the wilderness? To not look down upon those who stumble too.   You love too hard. You give too much. How else would you learn grace? I made you to be in the world, not of it To not be so tied to boxes that you lived in a cage To not be so busy hiding behind a shield that you make it a barrier to living I designed you to experience rejection and heartbreak, Never to test you, Never to hurt you, But for you to show others that you can dance on broken legs, And sing with a broken heart You can mother with no womb And make life your canvas And you can be brave enough To tell the world how You are red with anger and there Are not enough words that don’t End in less - You are not hopeless Or helpless Or jobless Or loveless But it’s close And you listen to the blues enough To know you are blue It’s not quite depression But it’s close That tinge of anxiety Has colored your days With a purplish hue You rise royal and hold tight To your golden crown in a world That would prefer your brown Chin be down As you all come to the Realization that bootstraps Are green and there will Never be enough to go around For those of you living In greyscale The view is 4K HD but you’re still Afraid of telling the truth in Technicolor But you are emboldened In Black – unerasable and here to be witnessed For others to take For others to create Their own canvas of courage   I designed you to rise as the sun does And you do I designed you to soar like the eagles And you do I designed you to thunder and roar and rage And you do I would never put all of that sound and fury In a checkbox I designed you to endure, to outlast any shackles To move forward, to fight the grey And the grave And the extermination of your light I designed you to break every chain To live a life outside the boxes – Unchecked.”

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude “The Poet Speaks”  by Robert Schumann Mary Bopp, piano Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "A Poet's Purpose" by Nadia Sims Opening Hymn #1002 “Comfort Me”  By Mimi Bornstein Comfort me, comfort me, comfort me, oh my soul. Comfort me, comfort me, comfort me, oh my soul. Sing with me, sing with me… Speak for me, speak for me… Dance with me, dance with me… Welcoming New Members Introductions (Membership Committee co-chairs) The Charge (Minister) As you take up membership in the Unitarian Universalist Society East, I charge you to share with us who you are. Share your creativity, your experiences, your questions, your doubts, your beliefs, and all your discoveries of life's meaning. I charge you to shake us up with your ideas, to stir us up with your conscience, to inspire us with your actions, and to stimulate our hopes with your dreams of what life can be. Congregational Welcome (Congregation) We welcome you as companions in the search for truth and meaning. We invite you to share in our mission of caring for one another, encouraging each other in spiritual growth, working for justice and peace in the wider community, and living in harmony with the earth. We join our gifts with yours, trusting in the power of community to bring freedom, healing, and love. New Member Affirmation (New members) We join the Unitarian Universalist Society East out of a desire and willingness to participate in a liberal religious congregation. We pledge to share our time, energy and gifts; to diligently seek our spiritual truths; and to strengthen the bonds of community.  Responsive Hymn “This Meeting House” words adapted from Eugene Sander by Josh Pawelek Music by Jean Sibelius  This meeting house, A place of love and gladness. Where all may meet, to seek the common good. A source of strength, to face each doubt and sadness. Where every dream, is known and understood. This meeting house, ask those who came before, And found themselves, by crossing through its door. Joys and Concerns Music "Prayer for Connection" Words by Cyndi Krupa Music by Mary Bopp May peace, light and love Infuse all living beings With a feeling of connection And knowing we are one . Offering Trans Voices and Visibility-365 (TV-365) is a ministry of the Metropolitan Community Church in Hartford, dedicated to uplifting and supporting the well-being of transgender individuals in Connecticut by providing basic human needs, information and referral, service coordination and support to individuals.  This ministry also works to support and collaborate with relevant support groups and service providers. Our emphasis is on those most underserved, neglected, victimized and oppressed.  This includes, but is not limited to, transgender women and men of color, those with disabilities, youth and elderly, immigrants (documented and undocumented), low income and victims of crime. Offering Music "I Need No Wings to Fly" by Mary Bopp Spoken Word “Boxes”  Nadia Sims “On Checking Boxes” Rev. Josh Pawelek “Unchecked”  Nadia Sims Closing Hymn #1028 “Fire of Commitment” Words by Mary Katherine Morn Music by Jason Shelton From the light of days remembered burns a beacon bright and clear Guiding hands and hearts and spirits Into faith set free from fear. When the fire of commitment sets our mind and soul a blaze When our hunger and our passion meet to call us on our way When we live with deep assurance of the flame that burns within, Then our promise finds fulfillment and our future can begin. From the stories of our living rings a song both brave and free, Calling pilgrims still to witness to the life of liberty. When the fire of commitment sets our mind and soul a blaze When our hunger and our passion meet to call us on our way When we live with deep assurance of the flame that burns within, Then our promise finds fulfillment and our future can begin. From the dreams of youthful vision comes a new, prophetic voice, Which demands a deeper justice built by our courageous choice When the fire of commitment sets our mind and soul ablaze When our hunger and our passion meet to call us on our way When we live with deep assurance of the flame that burns within, Then our promise finds fulfillment and our future can begin. Extinguishing the Chalice The flame in our hearts, never ceases burning. Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome (Emmy Galbraith) Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering (Meadow Bornhorst) Prelude “Though I May Speak With Bravest Fire”  Traditional English Melody Dan Thompson Chalice Lighting and Opening Words  Excerpt from a letter to a young artist ʻAbdu'l-Bahá spoken by Dean Gonzalez Opening Hymn “Spirit of Life” By Carolyn McDade Spirit of Life, come unto me. Sing in my heart all the stirrings of compassion. Blow in the wind, rise in the sea; move in the hand, giving life the shape of justice. Roots hold me close; wings set me free; Spirit of Life, come to me, come to me. Time for All Ages Musical Meditation Joys and Concerns Musical Meditation Offering Trans Voice and Visibility-365 (TV-365) is a ministry dedicated to uplifting and supporting the well-being of transgender individuals in Connecticut by providing basic human needs, information and referral, service coordination and support to individuals.  This ministry also works to support and collaborate with relevant support groups and service providers. Our emphasis is on those most underserved, neglected, victimized and oppressed.  This includes, but is not limited to, transgender women and men of color, those with disabilities, youth and elderly, immigrants (documented and undocumented), low income and victims of crime. Offering Music “Blue Boat Home” By Peter Mayer Mia, Christian and Dean Gonzales, vocals Reading “To Live Deliberately”  Henry David Thoreau Spoken by Meadow Bornhorst Credos Dean Gonzales Respondent: Dan Thompson Meadow Bornhorst Respondents: Sande Hartdagen, Graham Bornhorst Gifts Congregation : Just as we have been with you in days past, we are with you now, and will be with you in the future. We care for you. We love you. In you we place our faith. In you we place our hope for a more peaceful, just and loving world. Youth : We are grateful for your love and support and for the faith and hope you place in us as we move into the future. All : We are never complete. We are never finished. We are always becoming more than we have been. May we always help and encourage each other to grow toward all we are capable of becoming. Closing Hymn #298 “Wake Now My Senses” Words by Thomas S.J. Mikelson Traditional Irish melody 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. 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     “Imagine” Words and music by John Lennon Andy Ricci, guitar   Chalice Lighting and Opening Words   Opening Hymn    # 1024 “When the Spirit Says Do” Words and Music: African-American spiritual Mary Bopp, piano    You got to do when the spirit says do! You got to do when the spirit says do! When the spirit says do, you got to do, oh Lord! You got to do when the spirit says do! Spirit says do   *sing *draw *dance   Time for All Ages   “What Do You Do With an Idea? Written by Kobi Yamada Illustrated by Mae Besom    Joys and Concerns   Offering Hartford Deportation Defense says, "we are an immigrant organization in Hartford, CT, working alongside our neighbors to build a just and dignified future for our families and communities in the Hartford region." They engage in a variety of activities in support of immigrants, including fundraising (especially for people facing health emergencies), providing resources for families with a loved-one in detention, working with immigration attorneys, rapid response, accompaniment to hearings and legislative advocacy.   Offering Music     “Choose to be Near” Words and Music by Andy Ricci Andy Ricci, guitar   Introduction to the Service/Speakers   Reflections from Jane Penfield   Reading   “Soul Lifts” Rev. Tess Baumberger     Wouldn't it be great if you could take a picture of your soul? Then when your mother wanted to brag about you she could show people the picture and say, "That's my daughter, doesn't she have a beautiful soul, all sparkly and many-colored and flowing all around her?"   Wouldn't it be great if we walked around surrounded by our souls, so that they were the first things people saw instead of the last things? Then people would judge us by who we really are instead of how we look. Imagine no more racism, ageism, sexism, fatism, shortism, homophobia. Imagine falling in love with who a person is, just by looking at them.   It would be a kind of cloaking device, hiding physical faults, defects, or even perfections. I'd want it to be mandatory. Then people would work at making their souls more attractive instead of their bodies and faces.   Imagine people knowing by your soul that you really need a hug. Imagine people helping each other and their souls changing colors or growing.   Imagine soul gyms with exercises to get your sagging soul in shape. Imagine the long lines forming for soul-lifts at churches, temples, mosques, synagogues or nature's grand cathedrals.   Reflections from Carol Marion   Closing Hymn    #311 “Let It Be a Dance”  (Verses 1 & 3) Words & Music: Ric Masten Mary Bopp, piano (Chorus) Let it be a dance we do. May I have this dance with you? Through the good times and the bad times, too, let it be a dance.   Let a dancing song be heard. Play the music, say the words, and fill the sky with sailing birds. Let it be a dance. Let it be a dance. Let it be a dance. Learn to follow, learn to lead, feel the rhythm, fill the need to reap the harvest, plant the seed. Let it be a dance.   (Chorus)   Morning star comes out at night, without the dark there is no light. If nothing’s wrong, then nothing’s right. Let it be a dance. Let it be a dance. Let it be a dance. Let the sun shine, let it rain; share the laughter, bear* the pain, and round and round we go again. Let it be a dance. 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.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Processional Hymn #361 "Enter Rejoice and Come In" By Louise Ruspini Arr. by Betty Wylder Enter, rejoice, and come in. Enter, rejoice, and come in. Today will be a joyful day; enter, rejoice and come in. Open your ears to the song ... Open your hearts ev'ryone ... Don't be afraid of some change ... Enter, rejoice, and come in ... Announcements Centering (Emmy Galbraith) Prelude "The Lovers' Waltz" By Jay Ungar and Molly Mason Anhared Stowe, violin Mary Bopp, piano Chalice Lighting and Opening Words #434 "May We Be Reminded" anonymous Beth and Rosemary Ventura, chalice lighters (11:00) May we be reminded here of our highest aspirations, and inspired to bring our gifts of love and service to the altar of humanity. May we know once again that we are not isolated beings but connected, in mystery and miracle, to the universe, to this community and to each other. Hymn #1009 Meditation on Breathing" By Sarah Dan Jones When I breathe in, I'll breathe in peace. When I breathe out, I'll breath out love. Time for All Ages Children's Choir "My Roots Go Down" By Sarah Pirtle, et al My roots go down, down into the earth My roots go down, down into the earth My roots go down, down into the earth My roots go down. I am a willow, bending in the wind ... I am a waterfall skippin' home ... I am an acorn waiting to be born ... I am an oak tree, tall and bold ... My roots go down, down into the earth ... Joys and Concerns Musical Prayer "Prayer for Connection" Words by Cyndi Krupa Music by Mary Bopp May peace, light and love Infuse all living beings With a feeling of connection And knowing we are one. Offering Offering Music Theme from "Schindler's List" By John Williams Anhared Stowe, violin Mary Bopp, piano Homily (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Flower Communion Flower Communion Prayer "Consecration of the Flowers" By the Rev. Norbert F. Capek 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. Chalice Extinguishing "The Flame in Our Hearts" By Mary Bopp The flame in our hearts never ceases burning 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 for all the days to come.

Painting is by Navajo artist Tony Abeyta Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude "Ave Maria" by Charles Gounod, inspired by JS Bach Mary Bopp, piano   Chalice Lighting and Opening Words # 429 "Come into this place of peace”" by William F. Schultz   Come into this place of peace and let its silence heal your spirit; Come into this place of memory and let its history warm your soul; Come into this place of prophecy and power and let its vision change your heart.   Opening Hymn  STJ #1069, “Ancient Mother” Traditional Navajo prayer   Ancient Mother, I hear you calling. Ancient Mother, I hear your song. Ancient Mother, I feel your laughter. Ancient Mother, I taste your tears. Time for All Ages   “ Love You Forever” Written by Robert Munsch and illustrated by Sheila McGraw   Hymn as the children leave for their classes   STLT #118, “This Little Light of Mine” African American spiritual   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. . .   Joys and Concerns   Musical Interlude   Introduction to the Service/Speakers   Reflection from Elise Cotrone   Musical Interlude   Reading #715 “Your Children” by Kahlil Gibran   Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.   They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you, they belong not to you.   You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts.   You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.   You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.   You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.   The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.   Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness.   Reflection from Michelle Spadaccini   Offering   Hartford Deportation Defense says "we are an immigrant organization in Hartford, CT, working alongside our neighbors to build a just and dignified future for our families and communities in the Hartford region." They engage in a variety of activities in support of immigrants, including fundraising (especially for people facing health emergencies), providing resources for families with a loved-one in detention, working with immigration attorneys, rapid response, accompaniment to hearings and legislative advocacy.   Offering Music   “The Girl with the Flaxen Hair” by Claude Debussy) Dedicated to Helen Bopp Mary Bopp, Piano   Reflection from Kate Kimmerle   Closing Hymn          #95  “There Is More Love Somewhere” African American Hymn    There is more love somewhere. There is more love somewhere. I’m gonna keep on ‘til I find it. There is more love somewhere.   There is more hope somewhere. . .   There is more peace somewhere. . .   There is more joy somewhere. . .   Extinguishing the Chalice   #684 “The blessing of truth be upon us” by Duke T. Gray   The blessing of truth be upon us, the power of love direct us and sustain us, and may the peace of this community preserve our going out and our coming in, from this time forth, until we meet again.   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.

Calliope the mouse, after speaking with Jaime the baby               Our ministry theme for May is imagination . I want to tell a story, which is both a thought experiment and a spiritual reflection on imagination. Full disclosure: I wrote this story to elaborate on a dream I had this past Wednesday.             Once upon a time there was a baby. His name was Jaime. When Jaime was born, like most babies, he cried. Leaving the dark, comforting safety of the womb, squeezing down the birth canal, journeying from that blissful, unconscious, unknowing oneness of the womb into the often bright, antiseptic light of the delivery room, into the latex-gloved hands of the delivery nurse, taking that first full breath of terrestrial air, filling those infant lungs that have never before been full, the body’s senses suddenly engaged, a cacophony of incomprehensible sensory input—it’s a shock to the system. I’ve always assumed this is why most newborns immediately cry. But most newborns settle down quickly once they’re wrapped tightly in a soft blanket, lying upon their mother’s chest, nestled in her loving, joy-filled embrace.               Jaime didn’t settle down. Jaime kept crying. The doctor noticed and said, “give it time.” So his parents gave it time. Jaime didn’t stop crying. The hospital staff ran some precautionary tests. Jaime was a healthy baby. But he wouldn’t stop crying. Until he finally fell asleep. Then he seemed peaceful. But when he woke up, he started crying again. The medical staff did everything they knew to do, continued checking vitals, running various tests, researching what might cause a baby to cry unceasingly. They couldn’t diagnose the problem. Eventually they discharged Jaime and mom, saying ‘give it time.’ The family went home. Jaime kept crying. The parents were distraught. It was hard to bond with a baby who cried so much. Sometimes it was a full-blown wailing cry for minutes on end; sometimes a sob that seemed to come in slow waves for hours; sometimes a soft whimper for half a day.             When Jaime was asleep, his infant mind would dream. Since he was a newborn who had very little experience of being conscious in the world, he had no way to name the images in his dreams, let alone make meaning out of them. But if Jaime could have described his experience of dreaming, he might have said that it felt really good, that it felt a lot like his time in the womb, when it was dark, soft and safe, when there was no distinction between him and the rest of reality, when he was one with everything—that beautiful, blissful time before the water broke, before the squeezing, the bright light, the noise, the sterile odors, the physical touch. If Jaime were able to speak, he might have said “I miss that time.” He might have said, “this new world is too much. It’s all coming at me constantly. It keeps pouring in. Some of it is scary. Some of it hurts. Some of it feels wonderful, like when my parents hug and kiss me. Some of it is beautiful. Some of it is absurd. All I can do is cry. Things were so much simpler back in the womb.”             One day Jaime was lying in his crib, whimpering softly. He had just woken up from a dream. He’d been dreaming about a mouse, though he didn’t know it was a mouse because he’d never seen one before. He opened his eyes. There on the mattress next to him was an actual mouse. Jaime’s whimpering intensified.             “Hi Jaime,” said the mouse.             Jaime couldn’t talk, but he understood that the mouse was greeting him, and in his mind, he said hello and asked “who are you?”             “I’m Calliope,” said the mouse. “I heard you crying. I know what’s happening. I can help.”             “Can you help me get back to the womb?” asked Jaime, in his mind.             “I know how much you want to go back,” said Calliope, “but you were born. You’re here now. Still, I see how the world is pouring in and overwhelming you. That’s not supposed to happen. You’re a baby. Really all you’re supposed to be encountering in these first few weeks of life are your parents’ smiles and hugs, breast milk, blankets, diapers, that mobile over your crib, maybe someone shaking a rattle in your face, and people talking mostly gibberish to you. That’s all it should be. But somehow the whole world is pouring in. Like in the womb, you’re still experiencing yourself as one with everything, but there’s so much more now compared to then. It’s too much. When humans are born they lose their sense of oneness, but that didn’t happen to you. So I want to help you turn it off.”             “Turn it off?” The idea had never occurred to Jaime. He didn’t exactly want to turn it off. Yes, some of it was scary. Some of it was painful. But some of it was glorious, beautiful, hilarious. He could not stop his tears, but often they were tears of joy. He didn’t want to lose that. “I’m not sure I want to turn it off. That sounds kind of boring.”             “I completely agree,” said Calliope. But as you grow up, there are ways to bring that sense of oneness back into your life.”             “What ways? How?” asked Jaime.             “You’ll learn to use your Imagination,” said Calliope.             “Imagination?”             “Yes, with your imagination, you can access the oneness of all there is, and in response you can generate new ideas. You can create works of art. You can build a better world.”             “But how will I learn?” asked Jaime.             “You’ll learn. It’s easy for children. Children have very vivid imaginations. The challenge is continuing to use your imagination as you grow older. Lots of adults forget to use their imagination.”             “How can I make sure I won’t forget?” asked Jaime.             “Remember my voice, Jaime,” she said. “And believe me when I tell you, the muses are always speaking. Listen for their voices. They’ll guide you. I predict you will have a great imagination.”             Calliope darted over to Jaime’s toe and kissed it. Then she scampered down the side of the crib and into a hole in the corner of the nursery. Something shifted in Jaime. The world was no longer pouring in. He stopped crying. ****             Twelve years ago I preached a series of sermons on creativity. At the time I was very influenced by a book called I magine: How Creativity Works , by the popular science writer Jonah Lehrer. Lehrer was eventually accused of and admitted to a variety of publishing transgressions—plagiarism, mis-identification of sources, mis-statement of research findings and more. The publisher recalled the book. Lehrer disappeared from the science-writing scene, though he has published other books since then. I won’t say anything else about Lehrer’s professional troubles. But I do want to recall a notion I presented in my April 15th, 2012 sermon on creativity. I’m recalling it not because it is based on anything Lehrer said that was later found to be inaccurate, but because it no longer rings true for me spiritually. In the preface to the book Lehrer points out—and I quoted him in my sermon—that until the age of the European Enlightenment, [at least in the western world] “the imagination was entirely synonymous with higher powers: being creative meant channeling the muses, giving voice to the ingenious gods. ( Inspiration,  after all, literally means ‘breathed upon.’) Because people couldn’t understand creativity, they assumed that their best ideas came from somewhere else. The imagination was outsourced.” [1]  His book counters this idea. He discusses an array of scientific experiments and data to show that imagination and the creativity it produces happen within. Creativity is, in short, a bundle of distinct mental processes that combine to give rise to new thoughts. [2] No external forces—or muses—necessary.             I affirmed this idea in that 2012 sermon, but now I’d like to recall it. Calliope says to Jaime, “believe me when I tell you, the muses are always speaking. Listen for their voices. They’ll guide you.” I’d like to make the case that muses really do fire our imagination.             Before I make that case, I should say that, generally speaking, Lehrer was correct about the human portion of the imagination equation. Much of it is internal. Scientists can observe and measure specific neurological processes that take place in our brains when we’re using our imaginations. One of the most widely-cited recent studies is entitled "Imagination as a Fundamental Function of the Hippocampus,” published in Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B  in October, 2022 . [3] The study’s authors propose that the hippocampus—which has always been associated with memory—also plays a role in the generation of hypothetical experiences, a process they call ‘generativity,’ which is another word for imagination. A 2023 article in Scientific American  called “Where Imagination Lives in Your Brain,” offers a helpful summation of the Royal Society article for non-nonscientists and cites other studies that confirm the conclusions about the role of the hippocampus in imagination. We learn that the hippocampus works with other areas of the brain. One writer says the hippocampus is like “an orchestra conductor that cues up neurons in other regions that represent the sights, sounds and smells that either are part of a recollection or ‘fit together in some imagined thing.’” [4]             As far as I know, no one has ever used the scientific method to prove the existence of the muses. But I do note it is common for artists and creatives of all sorts (a group which includes scientists, engineers and mathematicians) to say they feel as if their art, their creations, their ideas come not from them but through them, as if some external, even divine power has breathed it upon them.             While I was reviewing the scientific literature on imagination, I started researching muses in ancient religions. The term ‘muse’ most commonly refers to the nine muses of Greek mythology : Clio , muse of history; Polyhymnia , muse of sacred hymns; Euterpe , muse of music; Terpsichore , muse of dance; Erato, muse of literature and science; Melpomene , muse of tragedy; Thalia , muse of comedy, Urania , muse of astronomy and astrology; and perhaps the greatest of all, Calliope , muse of epic poetry  an d eloquence. But they aren’t the only muses. In religions and cultures across the globe (ancient and current) there are many divine or semi-divine entities that play a muse-like role. In Arabic Middle Easter cultures there are stories of jinn inspiring poets and oracles. In Chinese culture there are stories of the immortals or xian inspiring poets and artists. In India, the goddess Saraswati plays a muse-like role and is often invoked by poets, musicians and students. In Norse mythology, Bragi, the God of poetry and eloquence, was often invoked by the skalds for inspiration. In West African cultures oral historians, or griots, are believed to receive inspiration from the orishas.             I imagine that the prevalence of muses and muse-like entities in so many cultures reflects a deep, long-standing human desire to explain the common experience among artists and creatives that their work comes not from them but through them.             Here’s my argument for muses, which I offer as a thought experiment. What if the experience of the womb, common to every human being, is exactly as I describe it in the story: an approximately nine-month period of pure, uninterrupted oneness with all creation. A time of blissful, peaceful unknowing in which there is no distinction between ourselves and the universe. Our first human experience is oneness. Though we don’t consciously remember, our bodies remember. And if you have a concept of the soul, I’d argue that our souls remember as well.             Then comes the birth rupture. The water breaking, the squeezing, the bright light, the noise, the sterile odors intruding. We suck in air for the first time. We cry. Then in most cases, we settle down and begin life as babies, slowly learning the ways of our caregivers and our culture, the experience of oneness now behind us in the womb time, though with us in our cellular memory.             What if, all around us, every minute of every day, there are signs pointing toward the truth we knew in the womb, that we are one with all there is? What if every blade of grass, every snowflake, every human or animal touch, every shoreline, every hermit crab, every tree, every stone, every mountain, every meal we eat with loved ones, with strangers, or alone, every piece of music, every poem, every dance, every painting, every sculpture, every sermon, every summer breeze, every raging storm, every ant, honey bee or butterfly, every growing thing, every story, every lighting of the chalice flame, every prayer, every sunrise and sunset, every drop of water, every sunbeam, every star, and especially the vast darkness of space—what if all of it—every glimmer of recognition—points us toward that truth our bodies knew in the womb that we are one with all there is? What if all of it is the muse speaking? Calliope assuring Jaime that as long as he listens for her voice he will remember. Would you not weep in response? Would you not feel like something is coming through you, and that in fact you’ve known it all along, known it since your birth?             And what if, in response to these signs, your hippocampus lights up, fires, blazes, explodes with electrical impulses, and within your imagination the ideas of your life, the music of your life, the poetry of your life begins to flow?             I say we are surrounded by muses. Our task is to listen, to remember what we’ve always known, and to unleash our imagination.             Amen and blessed be. [1]  Lehrer, Jonah, Imagine: How Creativity Works  (New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing, 2012) p. xvi. [2] Ibid., p. vvii. For a helpful overview of the content of Imagine , check Lehrer’s March 19, 2012 interview on National Public Radio at http://www.npr.org/2012/03/19/148777350/how-creativity-works-its-all-in-your-imagination . [3]  Comrie AE, Frank LM, Kay K. 2022 Imagination as a fundamental function of the hippocampus. Phil. Trans. R. Soc. B 377: 20210336. https://doi.org/10.1098/rstb.2021.0336 . [4]  Wickelgran, Ingird, “Where Imagination Lives in Your Brain, Scientific American , June 8, 2023. See: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/where-imagination-lives-in-your-brain/ .

Gathering Music (Dorothy Bognar) Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "How Beautiful is Night" by Robert Farnon Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "Prayer for Artists and Creatives" by Atena O. Danner Opening Hymn #1007 "There's a River Flowin' in My Soul" by Rose Sanders There's a river flowin' in my soul. There's a river flowin' in my soul. And it's tellin' me that I'm somebody. There's a river flowin' in my soul. There's a river flowin' in my heart ... There's a river flowin' in my mind ... Time for All Ages Hymn #1057 "Go Lifted Up" by Mortimer B. Barron Go lifted up, Love bless your way moonlight, starlight guide your journey into peace and the brightness of day. Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering Hartford Deportation Defense says "we are an immigrant organization in Hartford, CT, working alongside our neighbors to build a just and dignified future for our families and communities in the Hartford region." They engage in a variety of activities in support of immigrants, including fundraising (especially for people facing health emergencies), providing resources for families with a loved-one in detention, working with immigration attorneys, rapid response, accompaniment to hearings and legislative advocacy. Offering Music "Song and Dance No. 7" by Federico Mompou Sermon "The Muses are Speaking" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #391 "Voice Still and Small" by John Corrado Voice still and small, deep inside all, I hear you call, singing. In storm and rain, sorrow and pain, still we'll remain, singing. Calming my fears, quenching my tears, through all the years, singing . 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 .