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Gathering Music Mike Zanta, Guitar Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude "White Flag" by Joseph performed by Meetinghouse Chalice Lighting and Opening Words Matthew 2: 10-15a (New Revised Standard Version) Opening Hymn #1007 "There's a River Flowing in My Soul" by Faya Ora Rose Toure (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 Musical Meditation Joys and Concerns Musical Meditation Offering The recipients of our Community Outreach Offering for the month of January are Moral Monday CT and Power Up CT. Both organizations have been leaders in Connecticut's Black Lives Matter movement and a variety of social justice campaigns and initiatives. Offering Music "March, March" by the Chicks performed by Meetinghouse Sermon "Two Epiphanies" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Music "Good Fight" by Unspoken performed by Meetinghouse Extinguishing the Chalice "The Work of Christmas" by Howard Thurman Gently adapted by Rev. Josh Pawelek 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) Words of Welcome (Emmy Galbraith) Centering (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Prelude "Bring a Torch, Jeannette Isabella" Traditional French carol Arr. by Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting and Opening Words Excerpt from "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens gently adapted by Rev. Josh Pawelek Opening Hymn "Angels We Have Heard on High" Words by Earl Marlatt Music: French Carol Angels we have heard on high Sweetly singing o'er the plains And the mountains in reply Echoing their joyous strains Gloria in excelsis Deo Gloria in excelsis Deo Shepherds why this jubilee? Why your joyous strains prolong? What glad tidings do you bring Which inspire your heavenly song? Gloria in excelsis Deo Gloria in excelsis Deo See him in a manger laid Whom the choirs of angels praise Mary, Joseph, lend your aid While our hearts in love we raise Gloria in excelsis Deo Gloria in excelsis Deo Reading Luke 2:1 1-14 (New Revised Standard Version) Silence Carol "In the Bleak Midwinter" Words by Christina Rosetti and Andrew Storey Music by Gustav Theodore Holst In the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone, snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, in the bleak midwinter long ago. Christ a homeless stranger, so the gospels say, cradled in a manger and a bed of hay; in the bleak midwinter, stable-place sufficed Mary and her baby, Jesus Christ. Once more child and mother weave their magic spell, touching hearts with wonder words can never tell; in the bleak midwinter, in this world of pain, where our hearts are open, love is born again. Story "Santa's God" Neale Donald Walsch Musical Meditation Offering It is our tradition on Christmas Eve to dedicate our offering to the UUSE Minister's Discretionary Fund. This fund is used throughout the year to provide financial support to people in our congregation and in the wider community who have fallen on hard economic times, or who have specific monetary needs they cannot otherwise afford. Offering Music "Christmas Time is Here" Vince Guaraldi Homily (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Silence Music "The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" by Mel Torme and Robert Wells Chestnuts roasting on an open fire Jack Frost nipping at your nose Yuletide carols being sung by a choir And folks bundled up in winter clothes Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe Help to make the season bright Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow Will find it hard to sleep tonight. They know that Santa's on his way He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh And every mother's child is going to spy To see if reindeers really know how to fly And so I'm offering this simple phrase to kids from one to ninety-two Although it's been said many times, many ways Merry Christmas To you. Carols "Joy to the World" Words by Isaac Watts Music attributed to George Frederick Handel Joy to the world! The Lord is come Let earth receive her King! Let every heart prepare Him room And heaven and nature sing And heaven and nature sing And heaven, and heaven and nature sing. Joy to the world! the Savior reigns Let men their songs employ While fields and floods Rocks, hills and plains Repeat the sounding joy Repeat the sounding joy Repeat, repeat the sounding joy. He rules the world with truth and grace And makes the nations prove The glories of His righteousness And wonders of His love And wonders of His love And wonders and wonders of His love. "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" Words by Edmund Hamilton Sears Music by Richard Storrs Willis It came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old, from angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold: "Peace on the earth, good will to men, from heaven's all-gracious King." The world in solemn stillness lay, to hear the angels sing. Still through the cloven skies they come with peaceful wings unfurled, and still their heavenly music floats o'er all the weary world; above its sad and lowly plains, they bend on hovering wing, and ever o'er its Babel sounds the blessed angels sing. And ye, beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low, who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow, look now! for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing. O rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing! For lo! the days are hastening on, by prophet seen of old, when with the ever-circling years shall come the time foretold when peace shall over all the earth its ancient splendors fling, and the whole world send back the song which now the angels sing. "Silent Night, Holy Night" Words by Joseph Mohr Music by Franz Xaver Gruber Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright. Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child. Holy infant so tender and mild, Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace. Silent night, holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight. Glories stream from heaven afar Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia, Christ the Savior is born! Christ the Savior is born. Silent night, holy night! Son of God love's pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face With the dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus Lord, at Thy birth Jesus Lord, at Thy birth. 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. Closing Music "Jingle Bells" Jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way Oh what fun it is to ride in a One horse open sleigh Jingle bells, Jingle bells Jingle all the way Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh. Dashing through the snow In a one horse open sleigh Over the hills we go Laughing all the way Bells on bobtails ring Making spirits bright What fun it is to ride and sing A sleighing song tonight. Jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way Oh what fun it is to ride in a One horse open sleigh Jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way Oh what fun it is to ride in a One horse open sleigh. A day or two ago I thought I'd take a ride And soon Miss Fanny Bright Was sitting by my side The horse was lean and lank Misfortune seemed its lot We got into a drifted bank And there we got upsot. Jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way Oh what fun it is to ride in a One horse open sleigh Jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way Oh what fun it is to ride in a One horse open sleigh.

Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude "Edelweiss" by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II Service Introduction Chalice Lighting & Opening Words Chalice Lighting #448 in Singing the Living Tradition by Christine Robinson We gather this hour as people of faith with joys, sorrows, gifts and needs. We light this beacon of hope, Sign of our quest For truth and meaning, In celebration of the life we share together. Opening Hymn "My Life Flows on in Endless Song" #108 in Singing the Living Tradition Words from an Early Quaker Song Music from an American gospel tune My life flows on in endless song above earth's lamentation. I hear the real though far-off hymn that hails a new creation. Through all the tumult and the strife, I hear the music ringing. It sounds an echo in my soul. How can I keep from singing! What though the tempest 'round me roars, I know the truth, it liveth. What though the darkness 'round me close, songs in the night it giveth. No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that rock I'm clinging. Since love prevails in heav'n and earth, how can I keep from singing! When tyrants tremble as they hear the bells of freedom ringing, when friends rejoice both far and near, how can I keep from singing! To prison cell and dungeon vile our thoughts to them are winging; when friends by shame are undefiled, how can I keep from singing! Time for All Ages - Our Favorite Things Joys & Concerns Reading "Notes for Radical Living" by Tilda Swinton Make friends with chaos Hold a calm mind Let things shake Forgive human frailty Champion second chances Defy unkindness Reverence fellowship Listen to the quiet Respect the young Seek growth Trust in change Treasure learning Inspire faith in evolution Hold faith in miracles Reach beyond the binary Be wary of the doubtless Honour the brightheaded Grow plants Attend to the weather Be electric Cherish language Celebrate silence Dance daily Bless the handmade Sing into pain Find joy in shadow Challenge assumptions Follow the wind Swoon under clouds Look upwards Face forward Feel your courage Read history Open your ears Drop your shoulders Bend your knees Raise the roof Keep breathing Be trustworthy Take care of yourself Believe in goodness Head for the light Musical Interlude Reflections from Clare DiMaiolo Offering "We do not gather our gifts only for ourselves, but to share with the larger community" Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of December will go to three area shelters: McKinney Men's Shelter (Hartford), East Hartford Community Shelter, Cornerstone Shelter (Rockville). Offering Music "The Sound of Music" by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II Reflections from Gianna DiMaiolo Musical Interlude Reflections from Kate Kimmerle Closing Hymn #346 in Singing the Living Tradition "Come, Sing a Song with Me" Words & Music by Carolyn McDade Come, sing a song with me, come, sing a song with me, come, sing a song with me, that I might know your mind. (Chorus) And I'll bring you hope when hope is hard to find, and I'll bring a song of love and a rose in the wintertime. Come, dream a dream with me, come, dream a dream with me, come, dream a dream with me, that I might know your mind. (Chorus) Come, walk in rain with me, come, walk in rain with me, come, walk in rain with me, that I might know your mind. (Chorus) Come, share a rose with me, come, share a rose with me, come, share a rose with me, that I might know your mind. (Chorus) Closing Words #684 Closing Words in Singing the Living Tradition 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 coming in, From this time forth, until we Meet again. Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come. Postlude "So Long, Farewell" by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II

I want to share the words the choir just sang. The piece is “Where the Light Begins” by the choral composer Susan Labarr. The words are a slightly adapted excerpt from a longer poem titled “Where the Light Begins,” [1]  by the Rev. Jan Richardson, an artist, writer and Methodist minister. The poem is from Rev. Richardson’s 2015 collection, Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons. [2] About the light she says:   Perhaps it does not begin. Perhaps it is always. Perhaps it takes a lifetime to open our eyes, to learn to seewhat has forever shimmered in front of us the luminous line of the map in the dark the vigil flame in the house of the heart, the love so searing we cannot keepfrom singing, from crying out. Perhaps this day the light begins in us.            I find these words and the theology implicit within them both comforting and hopeful. I hear in these words the notion that at the heart of everything, at the heart of all existence, there is an essence, a power, a creative spark, a spirit that is – or at least feels – eternal. Richardson muses: “Perhaps it does not begin. Perhaps it is always.” It is peaceful and calm (at least that’s what the music suggests). You may encounter it as the biblical “still small voice,” or as that place inside of you where you may go when you long for comfort and solace. Some might use words like God or Goddess to name it. Some may say ‘love.’ Some may prefer not to name it at all. Richardson calls it light. I find it comforting and hopeful precisely because, if it’s always there, even if I have not yet learned to see it, even if I have not yet learned to see “what has forever / shimmered in front of us,” as the poem says, then there must be ways to access it. When times are hard there is always something I can turn to for the inspiration to keep going, to keep struggling, to keep meeting challenges, to find comfort, to stay hopeful. I might turn to loved-ones, to family, friends, neighbors and colleagues. I might turn to the ancestors—those of blood and those of spirit—who’ve bequeathed this life to me. I might turn to this Unitarian Universalist congregation, to our Unitarian Universalist faith, to our Unitarian Universalist principles and values. I might turn to music, to art, to novels and films. I might turn to the good green earth, to the land, to the solid ground. I might turn to the night sky, to the stars. I imagine all of these particular sources of comfort and hope as manifestations of the light that does not begin, that always is. I suppose this is why we light lights at all times of year, but especially at this time of year when daylight hours are shortest: to remind ourselves of the eternal light, however we understand it, whatever meaning we might attach to it. And to remind ourselves of our sources of hope, to remind ourselves that it is good and right and reasonable to be hopeful. A few weeks ago, Stacy Musulin shared the children’s story “Hope” by Corrinne Averiss  and Sebastien Pelon . I really liked a quote from that story: “Hope is keeping a light on, however dark things seem.” [3]  I like the simplicity of this quote. I like its straightforwardness. I like its universality—virtually anyone can take it to heart. I like the way it invites reflection. In the midst of challenging and difficult times, what light can I keep on? In the midst of unknowing and uncertainty, what light can I keep on? In the midst of loss, grief, sadness, depression, what light can I keep on? In the midst of social, economic and political unrest, what light can I keep on? In the midst of violence and war, what light can I keep on?           I took that story as a reminder that even if there is a light that has always been, a light that has “forever shimmered in front of us,” it is still up to us to access it. It is still up to us to tap into it. It is still up to us to keep “a light on, however dark things may seem.” Where does the light begin? It begins in us.           In this dark season, I urge you to light lights. As you do, I pray that you encounter, as the poem says, the luminous line / of the map in the dark / the vigil flame / in the house / of the heart, / [and a] love / so searing / [you] cannot keep from singing, / from crying out. I   pray that you will find comfort and hope as the light begins in you.           Amen and blessed be. [1]  Richardson, Jan, “Where the Light Begins,” at “This Unlit Light, posted December, 2016. See: https://thisunlitlight.com/2016/12/31/where-the-light-begins/ . [2] Richardson, Jan, Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons (Orlando: Wanton Gospeller Press, 2015). [3]    Averiss , Corrinne and Pelon , Sebastien, Hope (New York: words and pictures, 2019).

Gathering Music (Debbie Vinick, harp) Welcome Introduction Centering Chalice lighting and Opening Words "Forgotten Church" by James Crews The next time you pray for someone else, send whispered words on shaky wings up to the night sky, you might consider including yourself before the final amen. When you ask for your own happiness, plead for a flashlight to shine a path through whatever darkness you are facing, it's like stepping back into the forgotten church of this one body, and finding all the stained-glass still intact, every pew dusty but undamaged, just waiting for you to sit here again in worship to sing in praise of the actual heart that has never stopped working for you, resting only in the slimmest of instants between beats. Now place a hand on your chest and speak--not to the God above, but the one who lives always right here inside you. Music "Christmas Carol Medley" Arr. and performed by Debbie Vinick Reading #720 "We Remember Them" In the rising of the sun and in its going down, We remember them. In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter, We remember them. In the opening buds and in the rebirth of spring, We remember them. In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer We remember them. In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn, We remember them. In the beginning of the year and when it ends, We remember them. When we are weary and in need of strength, We remember them. When we are lost and sick at heart, We remember them. When we have joys we yearn to share, We remember them. So long as we lie, They too shall live, Fo they are now a part of us, As we remember them. Music "Pastorale from the Christmas Concerto by Arcangelo Corelli" Arr. and performed by Debbie Vinick Reading "We Hold Hope Close" by UU minister and activist Rev. Julian Jamaica Soto In this community, we hold hope close. We don't always know what comes next, but that cannot dissuade us. We don't always know just what to do, but that will not mean that we are lost in the wilderness. We rely on the certainty beneath, the foundation of our values and ethics. We are the people who return to love like a North Star and to the truth that we are greater together than we are alone. Our hope does not live in some glimmer of an indistinct future. Rather; we know the way to the world of which we dream, and by covenant and the movement forward of one right action and the next, we know that one day we will arrive at home. Sharing Music "Pachelbel's Carol" Arr. and performed by Debbie Vinick Reading "Winter Solstice" by James Crews It's as if the solstice took two Bare twigs and rubbed them together To give us a spark of rising sun, To keep it going on this December day. Not enough to heat the house Or light even a corner of the room, Still we learn to call it holy, knowing It holds the promise of shorter nights, As the candle lit for a loved one We have lost somehow flickers Their evergreen smile, small flame That brings us closer with just A thimble's worth of warmth. Music "Let There Be Peace on Earth" by Jill Jackson and Sy Miller Arr. and performed by Debbie Vinick Extinguishing the Chalice and Closing Words "On Those Days" by Donna Ashworth On those days, when you miss someone the most, as though your memories, are sharp enough, to slice through skin and bone, remember how they loved you. Remember how they loved you, and do that, for yourself. In their name, in their honour. Love yourself, as they loved you. They would like that. On those days when you miss someone the most, love yourself harder. Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come. Postlude (Debbie Vinick, harp)

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "Joy on Christmas Morning" by Audrey Snyder UUSE Choir Chalice Lighting and Opening Words #542 "Solstice" by Diane Lee Moomey Again did the earth shift Again did the nights grow short And the days long. And the people Of the earth were glad And celebrated Each in their own ways Opening Hymn "Winter Takes its Time" Music by Mary Bopp Words by Rev. Josh Pawelek and Mary Bopp Drone: Winter takes its time. Winter takes its time. Verses: Let us all heed winter's teaching. Let us not pass quickly by. Let us honor winter's wisdom. Let the darkness hold us close. Let us rest in winter's stillness. Let us rest the long night through. Time for All Ages Joys and Concerns Musical Meditation Offering "We do not gather our gifts only for ourselves, but to share with the larger community" Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of December will go to three area shelters: McKinney Men's Shelter (Hartford), East Hartford Community Shelter, Cornerstone Shelter (Rockville). Offering Music "I Believe" by Mark Miller "Where the Light Begins" by Susan Labarr Homily "Where the Light Begins" Rev. Josh Pawelek Music "Night of Silence" by Daniel Kantor Closing Hymn #55 "Dark of Winter" by Shelly Jackson Denham Dark of winter, soft and still, your quiet calm surrounds me. Let my thoughts go where they will; ease my mind profoundly. And then my soul will sing a song, a blessed song of love eternal. Gentle darkness soft and still, bring your quiet to me. Darkness, soothe my weary eyes, that I may see more clearly. When my heart with sorrow cries, comfort and caress me. And then my soul may hear a voice, a still, small voice of love eternal. Darkness, when my fears arise, let your peace flow through me. Extinguishing the Chalice "The Flame in Our Hearts" Music by Mary Bopp Words by Rev. Josh Pawelek 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 and Announcements Introit "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" (Trad. English carol, arr. by BNL) the Gonzalez family, vocals Jennifer Richard, guitar Centering Prelude "Joy on Christmas Morning" by Audrey Snyder UUSE Choir Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "A Joyful Noise" by Rev. Josh Pawelek Opening Hymn #253 "O Come, All Ye Faithful" by John Francis Wade O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem. Come and behold him, born the King of angels: Chorus: venite, adoremus venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, Dominum. Lo humble shepherds, hasting to his cradle, leaving their flocks in the fields, draw near. We, too, with gladness, thither bend our footsteps; venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, Dominum. Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation, O sing, all ye citizens of heaven above! Glory to God, all glory in the highest; venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, venite, adoremus, Dominum. Story "Yitzi and the Giant Menorah" by Richard Ungar Children's Choir "O Hannukah, O Hannukah" Traditional Joys and Concerns Music "Sarabande and Corrente" from Sonata in g minor by Henry Eccles Elliot Vadas, Cello Offering "We do not gather our gifts only for ourselves, but to share with the larger community" Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of December will go to three area shelters: McKinney Men's Shelter (Hartford), East Hartford Community Shelter, Cornerstone Shelter (Rockville). Offering Music Music "I Believe" by Mark Miller "Where the Light Begins" by Susan Labarr Homily "Where the Light Begins" Rev. Josh Pawelek Music "Night of Silence" by Daniel Kantor Closing Hymn #388 "Dona Nobis Pacem" words: traditional Latin music: traditional canon Dona nobis pacem, pacem dona nobis pacem. 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.

Welcome (Stacey Musulin) Centering (Martha Larson) Prelude : Improvisation on steel tongue drum performed by Kristen Dockendorff Chalice Lighting and Opening Words Excerpt from "We Gather" by Pat Uribe-Lichty We gather to find New ways of loving. New ways of thinking. New ways of being. We gather - yes, always we gather, for it is in gathering that we find our hope. Opening Hymn #118 "This Little Light of Mine" Words and music: African American spiritual, c. 1750-1875 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. Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine. Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine. Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. Building up a world, I'm gonna let it shine. Building up a world, I'm gonna let it shine. Building up a world, I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. Time for All Ages Excerpts from "Hope" by Corrine Averiss Children depart to "This Little Light of Mine." Announcements Joys and Concerns and Welcoming Visitors Musical Response Prayer adapted from "A Prayer for Hope and Justice" by Rev. Michelle Collins Offering Words Offering Music "When You Believe" by Stephen Schwartz Gerald Dillenbeck, vocals Two Reflections on Hope Closing Hymn #95 "There Is More Love Somewhere" Words and music: African American hymn There is more love somewhere. There is more love somewhere. I'm gonna keep on, till 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 and Closing Words (by Rev. Michelle Collins) Go from this place knowing that hope is not a certainty but rather a choice. When the world offers you despair, choose possibility. When cynicism seems reasonable, choose engagement. May our hope be grounded in love and expressed through action. 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 these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die / And where you invest your love, you invest your life / Awake my soul / Awake my soul / Awake my soul – w ords from the British folk-rock band Mumford and Sons. [1]  I’m not deeply familiar with their music. My colleague, the Rev. Carolyn Patierno, mentioned back in October she was using the song in a worship service. I liked it, so I asked Jenn (Richards) if she could play it for us this morning. She already knew the song and really liked it, so she was pleased that I asked. Check out a beautiful version of the song here . Awake my soul / Awake my soul / Awake my soul.             There are many reasons why it is beneficial to participate in or belong to a spiritual community—congregation, church, synagogue, temple, masjid, sangha, coven, etc.—but there’s one reason that stands out to me especially at this time of year—this waning time, this light-is-less time, this advent time—and that is soul work. Spiritual communities provide opportunities for human beings to engage in soul work. They invite us first to recognize the soul—our own souls and the souls of others. They invite us to center the soul in our living: how do we live in ways that are soul-affirming as opposed to soul-crushing? They invite us to intentionally nurture, grow and expand the soul. And when our souls fall asleep, which they do from time to time, spiritual communities invite us to wake them up. Awake my soul!          What is a soul? I am aware that for some of you, soul is one of those haunting religious words that you don’t find useful, but which won’t go entirely away. We inherit it from the ancient Christian church, but it’s not actually a Biblical concept. That is, you won’t find a highly developed concept of soul in either the Hebrew scriptures or the Christian New Testament. Soul was a concept in ancient Greek philosophy which later Christian theologians wove into church teachings as a spiritual entity, unique and essential to each human being, that survives physical death. [2]  But of course the post-death dispersal of the soul—where it ultimately goes—is fraught. Does it go up? Or does it go … down? For many of us, the first multi-sentence prayer we learned as children was: “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” That was supposed to help us fall asleep. But there’s something terrifying about it, especially for four-year old concrete thinkers, especially if said four-year-olds were simultaneously learning about the agonies of hellfire. When I talk about the soul, I don’t situate myself in the Christian tradition. If anything, I situate myself in that space where spirituality and mystical experience meet psychology. For the last ten years I’ve been taking my cues from the one-time Catholic monk turned psychotherapist, Thomas Moore . Some of you will be familiar with his ground-breaking, 1992 book Care of the Soul . Others took my class on his 2014 book, A Religion of One’s Own. Moore doesn’t define the soul in precise terms. He gestures toward it. He invites us to notice it as a sacred dimension of our lives. He says “Soul is the unreachable depth, felt vitality, and full presence of a person…. [It] is the invisible, mysterious, and softly radiant element that infuses your being and makes you human. It gives you a sense of meaning, feeling, connection, and depth.” [3]  This is one way to begin contemplating what the soul is. Earlier I shared Israeli poet and journalist Michal Snunit’s 1985 children’s book (which is really for adults), The Soul Bird . [4] Her view of the soul differs from Moore’s in the way she emphasizes emotion and gives the soul a quasi-mind of its own. I’m drawn to the simplicity of her language—the spaces between the words. I’m drawn to the simplicity and playfulness of the illustrations—the dancing spaces between the lines. And I’m drawn to the soft blue color of the pages. She writes of an invisible depth that is always present. “Deep down, inside, lives the soul,” she writes. “No one has ever seen it, but we all know it’s there. Never, never has a person been born who didn’t have a soul. It sparks the moment we are born and never leaves us—not even once—for as long as we live.” [5]  This is another way to contemplate what the soul is. The older I get, the longer I practice ministry, the more I gravitate toward the word “pantheism” to describe my personal theology. For me, pantheism suggests that all existence is infused with divinity, that everything is connected though an indwelling, animating spirit, that “ everything is holy now ,” as the UU singer-songwriter Peter Mayer says. [6]  I hear the language of our seventh Unitarian Universalist principle, “The interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part,” as an affirmation of pantheism. For me, as a pantheist, the soul is the part of us that opens up to and experiences that connecting, animating, indwelling spirit. The soul is the part of us that experiences its magic, power and dynamism. The soul is the part of us that apprehends our interdependence with other people and creatures, with the planet and, ultimately, with the entire cosmos. Well, at least on our good days. And, spiritually speaking, we don’t have very many good days. Our apprehensions of our interdependence are infrequent at best, and fleeting when they do come, if they come at all. There are many reasons for this. First and foremost, we don’t live in a society that truly values the experience of genuine connection with other people and the wider world. We don’t live in a society that cares about interdependence. There are certainly societies that do care about and center these things, but United States society isn’t one of them. There are so many reasons for this, so many layers and constructs and United States life-ways that stand between us and our souls: capitalism, reliance on industries of extraction, authoritarianism, societal toleration of extreme poverty, the commodification of virtually everything, the Protestant work ethic, social media (which really should be called social isolation media). I’m only scratching the surface, but I also don’t want to dwell on any of this. Not this morning. Mumford and Sons describe the results after all these forces put our souls to sleep: How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes / I struggle to find any truth in your lies / And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know / My weakness I feel I must finally show. Or as Michal Snunit puts it, “sometimes [the soul bird] calls us and we don’t hear it. This is a shame—it wants to tell us about ourselves.” Bottom line: our society is not very soul-friendly. I said soul work stands out to me especially at this time of year. I know why that is. Soul work requires us to strip away all the layers I’ve just alluded to, so we can get to the essence of ourselves. And right now, in our part of the world, at our particular latitude on the planet (which I know you all know is 41.78° North) the earth itself is doing exactly that. This stripping away is what the Rev. Mary Wellemeyer described in our opening words entitled “Late November.” Listen to them again. Listen for how the earth very naturally strips away layers and layers. One day it happens— / often it comes after rain. / Suddenly the leaves are gone / from the trees of the hillsides; / only some oak and beech trees / cling to curled brown souvenirs / of summer. / Now comes a special time / of seeing into the depths of woods, / discerning shapes of hills, / locations of boulders and cliffs, / pathways and streams. / Now comes a time for stone walls, / for cellar holes and ruined barns / to tell their tales of farms now gone, / of lives lived out in open fields/ now covered again in forest. / The underlying shape of Earth, / the hints of stories from the past— / these offer themselves to eye and mind, / now, between the falling of leaves / and the coming of snow. / Looking deep and seeing what was hidden / opens a secret doorway / for seeing deep within ourselves. [7] My prayer for us this morning, as we move now more deeply into the holiday season (which brings its own layers, distractions and stresses) is that we can find time and space to let the natural world’s late autumn emptiness serve as a mirror for us. I pray that the earth’s grayness, barrenness, calmness, stillness, darkness, and its simple spaciousness will prompt us to strip away our own layers, to find the spaciousness in ourselves, so our souls can awaken.  Here’s what I envision: As you strip away your layers, as that secret doorway opens, as the soul bird opens its various drawers—choose your metaphor—perhaps a creative spark is kindled in you, and the song you want to compose, the poem, short story or the novel you want to write, the painting you want to paint, the dance you want to dance, the statue you want to sculpt comes flowing in, and you create, because your soul has come awake. Perhaps that secret doorway opens, and there are the people you love most in the world—except you haven’t expressed your love for them recently, or you owe someone an apology, or there’s someone you need to forgive, so you go do it, you tell them you love them, our you say you’re sorry, or you offer forgiveness, because your soul has come awake. Or perhaps the layers peel away, and you suddenly realize there’s a change you need to make—some role you’ve been playing for too long and it’s time to let go; or some work you want to do before you retire; or some new way in which you want to volunteer or spend your time; some new way in which you can make a difference in the lives of others, so you go do it, you make the change, because your soul has come awake. Or perhaps you notice the squirrels preparing for winter rest, and you realize “I need rest.” That’s what this season, this time of year, is supposed to be about: easing up, slowing down, pausing, being still, turning inward, resting. So, with intention, you rest, because your soul has come awake. Or perhaps the bird opens the sadness drawer, and you realize you haven’t fully grieved the death of someone dear to you, it’s time to really say goodbye so they can take their place among your ancestors and play the role in your life that they actually want to play. So, you cry an ocean of tears you’ve been holding back, you welcome the tears, because your soul has come awake. Or perhaps you gaze out at dark branches, swaying gently against the backdrop of the barren gray sky, and their motion speaks to you of that indwelling, animating, magical spirit that flows through everything, gives power and grace to everything, connects everything; and suddenly there are no boundaries between you and the rest of reality. For a brief moment there is no you, and there is no not-you. Then you feel the energy of blessed oneness traveling up and down your spine, bringing you back into your body, and you are happy, because your soul has come awake. Or perhaps the last leaves fall from your favorite tree outside your kitchen window, spinning gently in the breeze, eventually landing on the cold, barren earth, and you recognize, as if for the first time, your own mortality, and it does not frighten you. You understand that it is the way of all life. You understand as the song says, in these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die / And where you invest your love, you invest your life. So, you resolve to live the remainder of your life with all the grace, compassion, kindness and love for yourself, for others and the earth that you can muster, because your soul has come awake. Friends: as we move into this season of stripping down, of peeling back, of settling in, I pray that secret doors will open for you. I pray that your souls will come awake. Amen and blessed be. [1]  Mumford and Sons, “Awake My Soul.” I’m recommending the live version with Jon Batiste at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PjM6Jbd__Qc . [2]  For a very brief history of the soul in the west, see Harvey, Van. A, “Soul” in A Handbook of Theological Terms (New York: Touchstone / Simon and Schuster, 1997 edition) pp. 226-227. [3]  Moore, Thomas, A Religion of One’s Own (New York: Avery, 2014) p. 2. [4]  Learn more about Michal Snunit at https://kids.kiddle.co/Michal_Snunit . [5]  Snunit, Michal, The Soul Bird (New York: Hyperion, 1999). [6]  Mayer, Peter, “Holy Now.” See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KiypaURysz4 .  [7]  Wellemeyer, Mary, “Late November” Admire the Moon: Meditations (Boston: Skinner House Books, 2005) p. 2.

Gathering Music "Someday at Christmas" by Ron Miller and Bryan Wells "Calling on Mary" by Aimee Mann Jenn Richard, guitar and vocals Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "Astral Plane" by Valerie June Jenn Richad, guitar and vocals Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "Late November" by the Rev. Mary Wellemeyer adapted ever-so-slightly by Rev. Josh Pawelek Opening Hymn #15 "The Lone, Wild Bird" words by H. R. MacFayden music from William Walker's Southern Harmony , 1835 The lone, wild bird in lofty flight is still with thee, nor leaves thy sight. And I am thine! I rest in thee. Great spirit come and rest in me. The ends of earth are in thy hand, the sea's dark deep and far-off land. And I am thine! I rest in thee. Great spirit come and rest in me. Time for All Ages The Soul Bird by Michal Snunit Musical Meditation Joys and Concerns Offering The recipient of our November Community Outreach offering is Manchester Senior, Adult and Family Services which provides social work and conservator services to any Manchester resident over age 18. Social work services can include providing information, guidance, assistance completing applications, advocacy, referrals, and outreach/wellness checks. Services are provided in person (office, home, community) by phone, email or Zoom. Offering Music "Awake My Soul" by Mumford and Sons Jenn Richard, guitar and vocals Sermon "Awake My Soul" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #89 "Come, My Way, My Truth, My Life" words by George Herbet music by Ralph Vaughan Williams Come, my way, my truth, my life: such a way as gives us breath, such a truth as ends all strife such a life as killeth death. Come, my light my feast my strength: such a light as shows a feast, such a feast as mends in length, such a strength as makes a guest. Come, my joy, my love, my heart: such a joy as none can move, such a love as none can part, such a heart as joys in love. 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.

Photo of King's Chapel from a recent UUSE Affirmation class trip to Boston I’m about to take you on a whirlwind tour of 1,840 years of Unitarian, Universalist, and Unitarian Universalist history. (I’ll be covering, on average, about 92 years every minute of this sermon). Please know everything I say is a generalization, and I am leaving out many important people, events, and trends. I’m offering primarily a theological history—Unitarian and Universalist are, after all, theological terms. I am doing this because my mother-in-law, Elaine, purchased a sermon at our goods and services auction last winter; when I asked her what she wanted me to preach on, she said, “I just want to know what Unitarian and Universalist mean. Like, where did you come from?” I interpreted this as a request for some historical information, which I am now presenting to you.             Ready?             We begin with the early Christian Church. For approximately three centuries after the execution of Jesus, the early Church Fathers [1] (which is how they are known in the historiography, and which of course makes women’s contributions invisible) debated a variety of questions about who Jesus was and the nature of his divinity; and who God was, what God’s intentions for the world were, and the role Jesus played in fulfilling those intentions.             An orthodox theology emerged slowly and was eventually codified at the First Council of Nicaea in the year 325 AD. The Nicene Creed, as it came to be known, articulated the doctrine of the Trinity—the idea that three eternal entities, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, comprise one God, and all three are begotten of the same substance. Before and after 325, those who expressed opposing views were branded as heretics, punished, exiled, even executed, their books banned and burned. One heretic, Arius, a priest from Alexandria, Egypt, born in 256 AD, was a distant forerunner of modern Unitarianism. He argued that God and Jesus were not begotten of the same substance, that Jesus was not co-eternal with God, and that God made Jesus, presumably out of a less eternal substance. For Arius, Jesus was divine, but subordinate to God, closer to human. This may not sound like a big deal, but the Arian Controversy, as it came to be known, threatened to split the church. In fact, the Council of Nicaea was convened to put an end to Arianism. The final paragraph of the original Nicene Creed reads: “Those who … assert that the Son of God is of a different … substance, or created, or subject to alteration or change — these the Catholic and Apostolic Church anathematizes.” [2] To anathematize is to condemn. That paragraph, which doesn’t appear in later versions of the creed, was referring to Arius, whom Emperor Constantine promptly exiled.             A second early church figure important to our history is Origen, born in 185 AD, also in Alexandria. During his life he was regarded as a brilliant theologian. However, at the Second Council of Constantinople in 543 AD, almost 300 years after his death, some of his teachings were anathematized—deemed heretical. These included “subordinationism,” the idea that Jesus is subordinate to God, which overlapped with Arius’ heresy; and, most importantly for us, Apokatastasis, or   universal salvation, the notion that eventually all beings would be restored to harmony with God. He was the first Christian Universalist to leave a written record.             Throughout the history of European Christianity, Arianism and Universalism continued to pop up from time to time and get summarily squashed. During the Protestant Reformation in the 1500s, a more extreme form of Arianism emerged, Unitarianism.  Unitarians rejected the doctrine of the trinity outright, arguing that God is one, not three, and that Jesus was human, not divine. They called for the use of reason in religion, specifically in Biblical interpretation. Three notable figures are: Michael Servetus, a Spanish physician and theologian whom the Calvinists burned at the stake in Geneva in 1553; Faustus Socinus, an Italian Unitarian theologian who fled Italy to escape the Roman Inquisition, and ultimately settled in Poland where his writings influenced a Protestant sect known as the Polish Brethren; and King John Sigismund of Transylvania, who adopted Unitarianism under the guidance of the Catholic-priest-turned-reformed-minister, Francis David. In 1568 Sigismund issued the first edict of religious toleration in European history. (That’s 1,383 years if you’re tracking.)              Next, we turn to Britain’s American colonies, specifically Massachusetts, where Puritan immigrants established a network of local, parish-based Calvinist theocracies beginning in the early 1600s. They mixed their staunch Trinitarianism with a variety of orthodox ideas, including the doctrine of total human depravity: human nature is sinful and cannot be redeemed without God’s grace; and unconditional election: God has predestined certain individuals for salvation, and everyone else is bound for hell with no recourse. It gets worse. I’ll stop there.             Despite everything we find abhorrent about their theology, the Puritans did bring the practice of congregational polity, meaning essentially that each congregation governs itself (which James Luther Adams referenced in our opening words, “I call that church free.” [3] ) We inherit and still practice that tradition. The Puritans also brought the idea of covenantal relations among congregations. Each congregation is independent, yet all congregations work together and support each other. We inherit and still practice that tradition.             We do not inherit Puritan theology. Over time, various colonial religious leaders began rejecting that theology. They objected to its negative view of humanity and its utter hopelessness. They objected to God’s abject cruelty. Imagine hearing for your entire life the message that you’re a sinner in the hands of an angry God and you’re destined for eternal punishment.  You might live with some anxiety.             Or you might start to think, maybe there’s another way . The European Enlightenment was having a liberalizing impact on European thought and society, and many colonists were paying attention. They put an increasing emphasis on using reason and science in the search for truth. They began questioning received doctrine and dogma. They began reading the Bible critically, as a historical document. They began doubting the miracles. They embraced natural religion, basing their beliefs more on observation of the natural world than on Biblical revelation. Some clergy began preaching openly about the right of private judgement: The dictates of my heart matter. My own conclusions about what is true matter. They increasingly rejected the Trinity as unscriptural. They increasingly spoke of Jesus more as a moral example, and less as a God. And they preached a more hopeful, universalist theology. Throughout the 1700s, the orthodox Congregationalists had a name for them: Arians! Heretics! Eventually they had an even worse name for them: Unitarians! Heretics! (They actually weren't direct followers of Arius. If anything, they were taking some cues from the late 16th- and early 17th-century Dutch theologian, Jacob Arminius, whose attempts to reform Calvinism featured both Universalist and Unitarian ideas.) Despite its orthodox critics, this liberal religious movement was growing. In 1805 the Unitarians took control of Harvard Divinity School with the appointment of the Rev. Henry Ware, Sr. as the Hollis Professor of Divinity. [4] In 1819, the Rev. William Ellery Channing preached his Baltimore sermon, entitled “Unitarian Christianity,” in which he identified the foundational principles of Unitarianism. The congregational churches split, some remaining orthodox, others becoming Unitarian. 1825 witnessed the founding of the American Unitarian Association. Universalism emerged as a denomination in the late 1700s, though not as a schism within the congregational churches. Often it was Baptists, Methodists or former Congregationalists who had gravitated to Universal Salvation and they founded churches to preach its profoundly hopeful message. As the early preacher John Murray put it, “give them not hell, but hope.” Universalists began organizing congregations and larger denominational structures in the 1780s and 1790s. They founded the Universalist Church of America in Massachusetts in 1793. Both the Unitarians and Universalists were hopeful. Both trusted that God was good, benevolent and just, not for an elect few, but for all. Both had positive views of human nature and believed human beings could work to improve themselves, following the example of Jesus. They both sought to apply reason to their religious lives and the reading of scripture. And, in the aftermath of the Revolutionary War, amidst the excitement and the promise that came with the founding of a new nation, both denominations seemed to capture and convey the new American spirit—its optimism, its focus on liberty, its humanism. They were not relics of old Europe. They had come of age with the young American republic and saw their destinies as intertwined with the nation’s destiny. I will add that, just as the nation continues to deal with the legacies of white supremacy, colonization and slavery, our denomination continues to confront those legacies as well. [5] Both denominations were liberal Christian sects with theologies traditionally regarded as heretical. Unitarians tended to be urban, merchant class, elites. Universalists tended to be rural, farmers, working class. Both denominations were white, though there have always been people of color among us. Throughout the 1800s and the first half of the 1900s, both denominations slowly departed form formal Christianity. Among Unitarians, the rise of the Transcendentalist movement in the 1830s, while initially unwelcome in the congregations, eventually had a profound impact. Transcendentalists saw the natural world as an ongoing source of revelation, and argued that no scripture contains the final word on truth. For them, Christianity was one among many path to God; other religions had valuable wisdom to teach. They preached self-reliance, and called for an unfettering of the human spirit. They learned to trust human intuition. They were mystical. They were idealists. Some created utopian communities. Others worked for social reform. Later on, Unitarians were heavily influenced by Charles Darwin’s On The Origin of Species , which called into question the notion that God created everything in six days about 5,000 years ago. Many Unitarians eventually adopted theologies that aligned with the theory of evolution and other scientific discoveries. Some became atheists. A robust Humanist-Theist debate marked Unitarian congregations in the early 20 th  century. By mid-century, religious humanism was the dominant theology within Unitarianism. The Universalist departure from Christian identity took longer. By the early 20 th century many leaders spoke less about an eternity in Heaven, and more about creating heaven on earth through good works and social reforms. [6] By the mid-20 th  century, Universalists were preaching about one universal religion, contending that all religions ultimately preach the same, basic golden rule message of ‘love for neighbor.’  They argued after peeling away the outer husk of any religion, one eventually arrives at this universal moral kernel, a core spiritual wisdom that transcends cultures, time periods, and dogmas. [7] The American Unitarian Association and the Universalist Church of America were both headquartered in Boston. The Unitarians were at 25 Beason St. The Universalists were a block away at 16 Beacon St. (If I have my facts correct, the Universalists were renting from the Unitarians!) The leaders knew each other and often spoke about merging. They published a joint hymnal in the 1930s. Their respective youth organizations merged in 1954, becoming Liberal Religious Youth. The denominations formally merged in 1961. (We’re now at 1,780 years!)   Today, 65 years later, we are Unitarian Universalists. We are eclectic in our theology. We are Pagans, Buddhists, Christians, Humanists, Atheists, Agnostics, Jews. Muslims, Hindus and Taoists, and many others join us on occasion. Some of us are scientific in our faith. Others are mystical. We are searchers, mixing and matching, experimenting and playing. We gather around our congregations not around a shared theology, but rather around a set of seven principles and six values, all emerging from love at the center. We are the spiritual descendants of early Christian heretics, Arius and Origen, whose spirit lives on in us.   We are the spiritual cousins of radical European reformers, some, like Servetus, who paid with their lives; others like King John Sigismund who called on people of differing faiths and theologies to to live together in peace. Their spirit of protest against dogma, theocracy and inquisitions lives on in us. We are the spiritual grandchildren of the Puritans, from whom we inherit the New England Congregational Way. As much as we may not want to admit it, their spirit lives on in us. We are the spiritual children of American Unitarians who brought reason to religion, proclaimed that God is one, and that we human beings are good. Their spirit lives on in us. We are the spiritual children of American Universalists, who taught that God is good.  Their vision not only of Heaven, but of a current world in which all are welcomed, valued, included and loved, lives on in us. May we continue to nurture and proclaim these great legacies that live on in us. Amen and blessed be. [1]  They are sometimes called the Apostolic Fathers. [2]  I’ve edited the text for ease. Here’s the actual text (translated into modern English): “But as for those who say, There was when He was not, and, before being born He was not, and that He came into existence out of nothing, or who assert that the Son of God is from a different hypostasis or substance, or is created, or is subject to alteraEon or change – these the Catholic Church anathematizes.” See: https://christthesavioroca.org/files/2020-Resurrection-Classes/The-Nicene-Creed-of-325.pdf . [3]  Adams, James Luther, “I Call That Church Free,” Singing the Living Tradition (Boston: Beacon Press and the UUA, 1993) #591. [4]  Harvard Divinity School became the nation’s premier liberal seminary and, in response, Yale Divinity School became the orthodox seminary. [5]  In the preached version of this sermon, I mention a recent youth group trip to Boston, which included a stop at King’s Chapel (the first Unitarian congregation in the country), where they are conducting research into the congregation’s various connections to slavery, including more than 200 enslaved people who have been identified as part of the congregation in the years when slavery was legal. See: https://www.memorial.kings-chapel.org/ . [6]  An example is Clarence Russell Skinner’s 1915 book. The Social Implications of Universalism. [7] This view is sometimes known as the perennial philosophy.

Gathering Music Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude "Rainbow Connection" by Paul Williams Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "The Abundance of Our Lives Together" by Katie Sivani Gelfand We light our chalice as a symbol of gratitude... In this sanctuary we harvest bushels of strength for one another ... we cultivate a simple sweetness to brighten our spirits ... May we be grateful for the ways we nourish and uplift each other, For it is the sharing of this hallowed time together that sustains us. Opening Hymn #1010 "We Give Thanks" Words and music by Wendy Luella Perkins Oh, we give thanks for this precious day, For all gather'd here, and those far away; For this time we share with love and care, Oh, we give thanks for this precious day. Oh, we give thanks for this precious day, for all gather'd here, and those far away; For this food we share with love and care, Oh, we give thanks for this precious day. Time for All Ages "The Thank You Letter" by Jane Cabrera Read by Sam Taylor Musical Interlude Introduction to the Service Reflections from Deb Gould Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Reflections from Desiree Holian-Borgnis Offering The recipient of our November Community Outreach offering is Manchester Senior, Adult and Family Services, which provides social work and conservator services to any Manchester resident over age 18. Social work services can include providing information, guidance, assistance completing applications, advocacy, referrals, and outreach/wellness checks. Services are provided in-person (office, home, community), by phone, email or Zoom. Offering Music "A Musical Thank You Gift for UUSE" from Mary Bopp Reflections from Sam Taylor Closing Hymn #128 "For All That Is Our Life" Words: Bruce Findlow Music: Patrick L. Rickey 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 "May We Go Forth From This Place" by Charles A. Howe May we go forth from this place thankful for the life that sustains and renews us, and open to the grace that surrounds and surprises us. May we go forth from this place with openness and with thanksgiving. 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.