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Gathering Music "Egg Hunt" "Bunny Burrow" by Lilly Coleman Welcome (Emmy Galbraith) Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Musical Invocation "Shanti" by Helen Yeomans UUSE Choir Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "i thank You God for most this amazing day" by E. E. Cummings Opening Hymn #38 "Morning Has Broken" Morning has broken like the first morning, blackbird has spoken like the first bird. Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning! Praise for them, springing fresh from the Word! Sweet the rain's new fall sunlit from heaven, like the first dewfall on the first grass. Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden, sprung in completeness where God's feet pass . Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning born of the one light Eden saw play! Praise with elation, praise every morning, God's recreation of the new day! Story "Rabbityness" by Jo Empson Musical Interlude Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering The recipient of our April Community Outreach offering is the Inter-Religious Eco-Justice Network, or IREJN, Connecticut's only faith-based environmental non-profit organization. Their mission is to inspire and equip Connecticut's religious communities and their spiritual allies to protect our planet through education, engagement and advocacy. Offering Music "Pavane" by Morton Gould Dorothy Bognar, Mary Bopp, pianos Music "In the Morning, Joy" by Mark Hayes UUSE Choir "Lead With Love" by Melanie DeMore UUSE Choir Homily "In the Morning, Joy" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #61 "Lo, the Earth Awakes Again" Lo, the earth awakes again -- Alleluia! From the winter's bond and pain. Alleluia! Bring we leaf and flower and spray -- Alleluia! to adorn this happy day Alleluia! Once again the word comes true, Alleluia! All the earth shall be made new. Alleluia! Now the dark, cold days are o'er, Alleluia! Spring and gladness are before. Alleluia! Change, then, mourning into praise, Alleluia! And, for dirges, anthems raise. Alleluia! How our spirits soar and sing, Alleluia! How our hearts leap with the spring! Alleluia! Music "Alleluia, Alleluia" by Roger Emerson UUSE Choir 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.

02/19/23 I am slightly embarrassed. My intention this morning was—and still is—to continue reflecting on the proposed changes to Article 2 of the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) bylaws, which I began in my sermon on January 22nd. I’ll explain my embarrassment, but first, as a reminder, Article 2 is the section of the bylaws that tells the world, in writing, who we are as a religious people. It proclaims to the world, in writing , the center of our faith. It currently lists the seven Unitarian Universalist principles and the six sources of our living tradition. These lists—the principles and the sources—will go away, in writing , if the new version of Article 2 is accepted by the UUA General Assembly over the course of two years of voting. As an aside, I emphasize in writing , because while what we say in writing about who we are matters immensely (which is why I continue to talk about it), I firmly believe the world learns most about who we are, not by what we say about ourselves in writing , but by how we live, how we engage the world. As the 19th-century Transcendentalist Unitarian minister, Theodore Parker once prayed: Be ours a religion which, like / sunshine, goes everywhere; / its temple, all space; its shrine, the good heart; its creed, all truth; its ritual, works of love; its profession of faith, divine living. [1] In religious short-hand, we might say deeds, not creeds . I am embarrassed because when I spoke about the proposed new Article 2 last month, I was responding to a rough draft proposal originally published last fall. What I understood last fall is that the Article 2 Commission that produced that rough draft was holding a series of feedback sessions in November and December. Some of you attended those sessions. What I did not quite understand is that the Commissioners would use the feedback they received in those sessions to create a final version of their proposal to submit to the UUA Board of Trustees for its mid-January meeting. When I spoke about Article 2 a month ago, I was completely unaware of the final version, which has some significant differences from the rough draft. That’s why I am embarrassed. I was speaking to you about already outdated material. I hope and trust you will forgive me. [To read the final draft of the Article 2 Commission’s report, click here .] Love is our ministry theme for February, so I want to talk about the place of love in the proposed new Article 2. However, before I do, it feels really important to name that quite a few of you have shared reactions to and concerns about the Article 2 proposal. I don’t have the space to address all those reactions and concerns here—and I don’t necessarily think that’s my role—but I do want to say there will be opportunities for us to discuss the Article 2 proposal as a congregation. Carrie Kocher currently holds the role of UUS:E Denominational Affairs chairperson. Carrie, I’m pretty sure, accepted the nomination for that role, without knowing (because who knew?) that Article 2 would be up for debate this year. Carrie, like me, is receiving a lot of the comments, reactions, concerns, etc. Carrie and I are committed to organizing three UUS:E public forums on Article 2 proposal, likely in May. The purpose of those forums is for Carrie and I, and any other UUS:E delegates to the General Assembly, to develop a good sense of how you want your delegates to vote regarding Article 2 and the likely hundreds of amendments that delegates will be proposing during the General Assembly. Among those of you who’ve offered comments, observations, concerns, I want to thank in particular Malcolm and Susan Barlow, Carol Lacoss, Judy Durham, Lorry King, Fred Wildes, Carrie Kocher and Sudha. Many others have commented, but I want to personally acknowledge these eight. Their comments have gone into depth and are leading me to deepen and nuance my own assessment of the proposal. We’ve talked about everything from the wordiness of and lack of poetry in the proposal; to observations that there is too much emphasis on antiracism and anti-oppression identity and practice at the expense of promoting a more holistic religious setting for spiritual searching, experience and growth; to concerns that the rough draft makes no reference to democratic processes and what that implies for the future of our faith; to fears that with this proposal the UUA is actually attempting to usurp power from the congregations. There’s a lot to talk about. There’s a lot out there on the internet, some legitimate some not so legitimate. There’s a lot of anxiety in the system, so to speak. There are camps forming within Unitarian Universalism, which is problematic, though to some degree predictable and I don’t believe fatal. I have complete faith that the UUA’s democratic, General Assembly process, over the next two years, will produce the best final new Article 2 possible. Our ministry theme for February is love. I feel the most important and essential change the proposed Article 2 makes is the way it centers love as the preeminent value of Unitarian Universalism. My favorite sentence from the rough draft proposal is “Love is the enduring force that holds us together.” I kept repeating those words when I preached about this a month ago. Now I’m upset. That language was removed from the final version. The final version says “love is the power that holds us together and is at the center of our shared values.” It’s a clunky sentence. “Enduring” is such a beautiful, poetic word. Love is the enduring force that holds us together. I miss it already. Despite that change, something else emerged out of those national feedback sessions that moves me deeply. Vivian Carlson focused on this last Sunday in her reflections on love. The final version of the proposed new Article 2 adds this statement: “We are accountable to one another for doing the work of living our shared values through the spiritual discipline of Love.” As an aside, I wish the statement didn’t use the phrase “doing the work.” Its jargony. It adds no value to the sentence. “We are accountable to one another for living our shared values through the spiritual discipline of love.” The spiritual discipline of love. Framing love as a discipline brings it out of the realm of pure feeling or mere sentiment, out of the realm of Hallmark and Valentine’s Day, and more importantly, out of the realm of consumer capitalism, asking: what is the practice of love? How do we manifest love in the world? How do me make love real, impactful, healing, transformative? Last week Vivian asked the question this way: “how do we keep our hearts open to the source of love when others are difficult, hurtful, hateful?” She reminded us that “the spiritual discipline of love calls us to understand that many who have been hurt, met with hatred and violence often know only how to share the same with others. They have not been held in the heart of another. They do not know the experience of love.” The spiritual discipline of love attunes us to the knowledge that we typically don’t know about a person’s life circumstances, that we typically don’t know about the ways they have or are suffering, about what burdens they are carrying, about how their day is going. I told the story earlier from my colleague, Rev. Jo VonRue, about her fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Fong. As a child Rev. VonRue was poor, at times homeless, often wore dirty clothes that didn’t smell good, struggled in school and was the target of bullying. Though she was terrified of Mrs. Fong, who tolerated no shenanigans, she says “she was never unkind towards me.” One day Mrs. Fong pulled her aside and asked if she knew what deodorant is. She was mortified. However, she writes, “when I was recently asked about a time when someone stuck their neck out for me, Mrs. Fong was the first person I thought of. It’s funny how perspective changes over time: something that once seemed mortifying now strikes me as a gesture of caring; of love.” I don’t want to speculate on Mrs. Fong’s motivations. She probably woudn’t say she was holding herself accountable for living her values through the spiritual discipline of love. But who knows? Maybe she was conducting her life and her teaching in accordance with the values of a faith community. Maybe she just had a wonderfully caring heart and knew what needed to be said in that moment, even if it would be difficult for the child to hear. I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. What matters is that opportunities to practice love abound. They are everywhere. They meet us every day. A Unitarian Universalist spiritual discipline of love, in my mind, orients us to these opportunities, sensitizes, alerts, attunes us to these opportunities, helps us not pass by without noticing them, helps us respond to them as best we can. A spiritual discipline of love helps us respond skillfully when, as Vivian challenges us, others are difficult, hurtful, hateful. A spiritual discipline of love helps us respond skillfully, as Rev. VonRue challenges us, in “the messy, vulnerable places.” A spiritual discipline of love helps us respond to the neighbor in crisis, the neighbor who is sinking down, as the hymn says, the neighbor facing homelessness, the neighbor whose anxiety will not subside, the neighbor whose depression keeps deepening despite treatment, the neighbor who is lonely, the neighbor whose child is struggling, the neighbor who cannot shake their addiction, the neighbor for whom the treatment did not work, the neighbor who has just lost their beloved, the health care worker neighbor or the teacher neighbor who are burned out and exhausted, the immigrant neighbor who cannot access health care to treat a condition that could be life threatening, the prisoner neighbor preparing for re-entry, the survivor neighbor of the earthquake who has lost everything and everyone, the child neighbor who needs deodorant. Indeed, a spiritual discipline of love calls us back to that ancient, moral commandment to love neighbor as self; the commandment, in Vivian’s language, to hold others in our hearts, even those who are hurtful and hateful. I don’t know what this spiritual discipline of love looks like, not yet. But I do look forward to figuring it out, exploring, experimenting, testing, practicing … with you. And assuming some version of this love-centered UUA Article 2 is adopted next year, I already have an elevator speech ready to go. When people ask me to explain Unitarian Universalism, I will tell them: It’s the practice of the spiritual discipline of love. Amen and blessed be. [1] Parker, Theodore, “Be Ours a Religion,” Singing the Living Tradition (Boston: UUA and Beacon Press, 1993) #683.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Gina Campellone) Centering Prelude "Joy Variations" George Frideric Handel and Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting and Opening Words (Paula Baker) "A Chalice of Joy" by Rev. Dr. Julia Corbett-Hemeyer Introducing the Service Opening Song "Joy to the World" Written by Hoyt Axton Performed by Kate Howard-Bender, guitar and vocals Time for All Ages "Where We Find Joy" (A poem created and inspired by members of the Children & Youth Ministry elementary class: Vera, Charlie, Lonnie, Teddy, Warren, Spencer, Rosemary, Josie, Oliver and Hazel) Welcoming Visitors and Joys & Concerns Musical Interlude Offering Each Sunday, we dedicate half of the unallocated collections from our offertory to organizations that are working to improve people's lives in the Manchester area. This month we have selected the Interreligious Eco-Justice Network, a Connecticut only faith-based environmental non-profit organization whose mission is to inspire and equip Connecticut's religious communities and their spiritual allies to protect our planet through education, engagement and advocacy. Offering Music "Rustle of Spring" Written by Christian Sinding Performed by Mary Bopp, piano First Reflection (Sandy Karosi) "A Bargain" Poem by Sherry Redding Second Reflection (Sudha) "Kana" Poem by Sudha Third Reflection (Lisa Sementilli) "At Albany Bulb With Elaine" Poem by Alison Luterman Closing Hymn #1010 "We Give Thanks" Written by Wendy Luella Perkins Oh we give thanks for this precious day For all gathered here and those far away. For this time we share with love and care Oh we give thanks for this precious da y. 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. --- Please enjoy this list of favorite poems, submitted by members and friends of UUSE! “Song of the Rider” Federico Garcia Lorca (Mike Baxter) “Illumination” Anthony Hecht (June Bray) “The Death of the Hired Man” Robert Frost (Fred Wildes) “These I Can Promise” Mark Twain (Dan Covino) “I Taste a Liquor Never Brewed” Emily Dickinson (Mary Heaney) “I thank You God for most this amazing day” e.e.cummings (Nancy Simonds) & (Christine Yantz) “Love is an Offering” Lance Ernest (Fay Peters) “Kindness” Naomi Shihab Nye (Meghan MacRae) “When You Are Old” William Butler Yeats (David Garnes) “Weathering” Fleur Adcock (Ginny Molleur) “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” Wallace Stevens (Dan Thompson) “Trees” Joyce Kilmer (Sharon Gresk) “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” Robert Frost (Laurie Semprebon) “No Man is an Island” John Donne (Dorothy Bognar) “Much Madness is Divinest Sense” Emily Dickinson (Kate Howard-Bender) “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” TS Eliot (Kate Howard-Bender) “Wild Geese” Mary Oliver (Chloe Campellone) “Initiation II” Nina Bogin (Paula Baker) “For Sweet Honey In The Rock” Sonia Sanchez (Rev. Josh Pawelek) “First Lesson” Philip Booth (Gina Campellone) “The Peace of Wild Things” Wendell Berry (Cyndi Krupa) “The Writer” Richard Wilbur (Mary Ellen Vigeant)

Grace I begin with a heart felt thank you  to Mary Bopp and all the musicians who’ve brought us “Amazing Grace” in so many variations this morning. Mary first proposed a service centered around this beloved hymn late last year. I thought it was a great idea, so we started looking for a date. Perhaps we should have wondered if it was wise to offer a big music service the Sunday before our big, annual Easter music service. We didn’t. So you’re encountering a lot of music today and much more beautiful music next Sunday. I hope it all adds to a sense of celebration and wonder for you at this auspicious time of year—this time when spring arrives, when life is fresh and new and green, when eggs and bunnies become visible signs of nature’s enduring and vital creativity, when angels pass over, when sea waters part, when temples are cleansed, when we hear “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,” when stones roll away from the mouths of tombs amidst cries of “He is risen.” I hope it all brings you joy! My task is to glean and share spiritual insights in response to “Amazing Grace”—a hymn Unitarian Universalists generally and genuinely enjoy singing—it’s easy, it’s familiar. But let’s be honest: we balk at the implied theological quid pro quo , the spiritual transaction. Simply stated, in exchange for our heartfelt belief, God, through grace, reaches into our lives and saves us. “How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed!” The implication is that we are born sinful, that we are wretches, and something needs to change in us—we need to confess our sins and proclaim our belief; only then is God willing to extend salvific grace to us. Our Universalist forebears would object. I’m generalizing, but they would argue essentially that God’s love, and by extension God’s grace, is every human being’s birthright. It’s not the hour we first believe. It’s the moment of our birth, the moment of our entry into the world, and nothing we do can take that love from us. Just for fun, I tried writing a few verses of “Amazing Grace” with a more Universalist grounding.   Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that sang with my first breath. It sings when I’m lost, it sings when I’m found. It will sing to me even in death.   ‘Twas grace with me in times of fear, in times of pain and strife. How precious has that grace appeared each moment of my life.   Grace comes with me,’ cross roiling seas Wherever I may roam Whatever dangers I may face With grace I’m ever home.   Amazing Grace how sweet the sound that called me into the world. Though fear besets me often these days, My spirit remains unfurled.   Amazing Grace how sweet the sound That sang to me at my birth God’s gifts endure in each of our lives Let’s do some good on this earth.   They need some work, but I hope the theological difference makes sense. Here’s the rub: that more traditional theology that demands that we recognize the errors of our ways, confess our sins, plead with God for forgiveness, turn toward and believe in that God who has the power to save us not just in this life but for eternity—that theology makes for a compelling story. I once was lost, but now am found—that’s Moses at the burning bush, Paul on the road to Damascus. It’s every person Jesus heals in the gospel stories: “Your faith has set you free.” It’s Muhammad hearing the angel Gabriel’s voice: “Read!” It’s not quite the Buddha’s story of coming to enlightenment, but there’s some overlap. Think of every book or film you love. How often is the main character lost in some way—broken, wounded, sick, isolated, wandering, wayward, confused, addicted, in pain? Then something happens that sets their life on a new path, that gives them a sense of purpose and resolve, that brings them home … that saves them. I think this is why a certain story about the author of “Amazing Grace,” John Newton, persists in our culture even though we know it isn’t true. Here’s how Newton biographer, Christine Schaub , tells the story, which she calls a myth: In March of 1748, “a young and successful John Newton captains yet another slave ship through the Middle Passage, a powerful storm comes up and Newton strikes a bargain with God—save their lives and he'll set all the captives free. God calms the sea, Newton converts to Christianity on the spot and holds up his end of the deal by not only freeing his slaves, but giving up the slave trade forever. He heads back to England, becomes a preacher and spends the rest of his life writing famous songs, like ‘Amazing Grace.’” It’s a powerful, compelling, transformational, lightning-bolt-from-the-sky story. I once was lost, but now am found. The story of what actually happened is fine, just not as compelling. Newton’s actual transformation took 35 years to come to its full fruition. Schaub says that Newton was sailing not as a captain but “as a passenger on a ship carrying ivory, gold, beeswax...and not a single slave.” It  was  March of 1748. The ship  was  caught in a storm. Newton may have prayed. The ship did not sink. It also did not reverse course. Some accounts say that given the damage to the boat they were lucky to make it to Ireland. It  was  a profound moment in Newton’s life. He looked back on it as the moment of his conversion to Christianity, but his life did not change abruptly. Schaub says it was only after this experience that Newton started working in the slave trade, eventually becoming a slave ship captain. And she says he left slaving due to illness, not conscience. He was ordained as a priest in the Church of England in the mid-1760s. He wrote the original words to “Amazing Grace” in the early 1770s. And it was not until the early 1780s that he became outspoken about the abolition of slavery, 35 years after the storm. If you’re interested in learning more about Newton’s story, there’s a great article by the music critic and columnist Ian McCann called “Amazing Grace: The Life of a Song,”  which references Newton being pressed into the Royal Navy in 1744, then being abandoned in West Africa because he annoyed the crew so much, and then actually being enslaved himself for a few years before being rescued. According to McCann’s research, it was the rescue ship that ran into that fateful storm. I also recommend an article entitled “The Slaver: From Disgrace to Amazing Grace” in Leben: The Journal of Reformation Life ,  which traces this history in even more detail. “Amazing Grace” was Newton’s attempt, many years later, to repent for his participation in the slave trade. It was set to music more than 20 times before it settled on the melody of the folk song “New Britain” in 1835, 10 years after his death. It didn’t catch on in England, but it quickly gained popularity in the United States. Here’s what I think. Regardless of theology, and regardless of what makes for a compelling story, it is very human to feel unfinished. By unfinished I don’t mean lost, though sometimes we are lost and we need to find ourselves, find our path, find our way. I certainly don’t mean sinful, though sometimes we do hurt others and need to make amends, to atone, to say “I’m sorry,” to turn the ship around. And I don’t mean broken, though sometimes we need healing. By unfinished I mean a feeling that there could be something more in our lives, something more to accomplish, some goal, some aim, some purpose we want to achieve, some good we want to make happen on this earth. By unfinished I mean a longing, a hunger, a yearning, even a restlessness. It may be there is some aspect of ourselves we feel needs improvement: something about the way we move through the world, the way we relate to others, the way we live, the way we experience ourselves internally, the way others experience us—something about us that could be different, could be more developed, could feel more complete, more resolved, more finished. I suspect if I asked you to contemplate for a moment some aspect or feature of your life that feels unfinished, some part of you you’re working on, some improvement you aspire to make, it won’t take long for you to come up with a few examples. In my experience, everyone is working on something or, in the very least, is aware of something they ought to be working on. Even people at the very end of their lives will report feeling unfinished in some way, perhaps identifying some work they’d like to see carried on after their death. There’s nothing tragic about this feeling at the end of life. I’m not sure anyone is ever truly finished. Again, I think it’s very human to feel unfinished. Stories—and theologies—that give us the answer to our longing in a flash—a burning bush, a blinding light, a leper healed, a ship saved at sea, a soul at sea saved—are very satisfying, very moving, and often quite inspirational. Certainly we need inspirational stories in our lives. But in truth those flashes, those burning bushes, those ships saved at sea, those moments of lightning-bolt-from-heaven-transformation are very, very rare. More often than not, change comes slowly, incrementally, in fits and starts. Sometimes we don’t even realize we’re changing until we’re in a position to reflect on our lives and realize we aren’t who we used to be. But there’s still more to do. For me, “Amazing Grace” is aspirational and cyclical. I sing it knowing each of us is, in fact, unfinished, and to some extent we always will be. The song expresses a deep and very natural longing: to be found when we are lost, to be healed when we are ill, to be saved when we are in danger, to be comforted in our fear, to be held in our grief, to be made whole in the midst of our brokenness. And these experiences cycle through our lives. We aren’t saved once into a perfect existence. We are saved again and again and again in a multitude of different ways. So I’m not waiting for God to accept my application for grace and then reach in to my life to save me. I don’t believe that way. I’m a Universalist. I say a divine love lives at the heart of creation and bestows unconditional grace on every living creature on this planet. In my view, the central task of our spiritual lives is not to receive this grace in our hour of greatest need, but to remember every day that it is already with us, already within us; and we can respond with gratitude, with creativity, with care for others, with care for the world, indeed, with a deep and abiding love. The challenge is that there are infinite ways to respond. Perhaps that’s the reason we never quite feel finished. No life is long enough to respond fully to this amazing grace. But with the life we have, we try. Amazing Grace how sweet this gift My guide along the way In response, I strive to love  Each and every day. Amen and blessed be.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "Amazing Grace" Virginia Harmony, 1831 Eric Rosenberg, Saxophone Chalice Lighting and Opening Words Excerpt from The Life of John Newton by Richard Cecil Opening Hymn #205 "Amazing Grace" Words by John Newton Set to the tune of "Gift of Love," traditional English folk melody Amazing grace! How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now, but now I see. 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears, my fears relieved; how precious did that grace appear the hour I first, I first believed! Through many dangers, toils and snares, through these I have already come; 'tis grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead, will lead me home. Time for All Ages Musical Meditation Joys and Concerns Music "Meditation on Amazing Grace" Dorothy Bognar, piano Offering The recipient of our April Community Outreach offering is the Inter-Religious Eco-Justice Network, or IREJN, Connecticut's only faith-based environmental non-profit organization. Their mission is to inspire and equip Connecticut's religious communities and their spiritual allies to protect our planet through education, engagement, and advocacy. Offering Music "Amazing Grace" music: "Rising Sun Blues" Sandy Johnson, vocals; Mary Bopp, piano Sermon "Not What I Used to Be" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #205 "Amazing Grace" Words by John Newton Music: Virginia Harmony, 1831 Amazing grace! How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see. 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved; how precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed! Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come; 'tis grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home. When we've been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we've no less days to sing God's praise than when we'd first begun. 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 and Centering (Martha Larson) Prelude Chalice Lighting and Opening Words (by William F. Schulz) 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 Introduction to the Service (Stacey Musulin) Opening Hymn #131 "Love Will Guide Us" Words by Sally Rogers Music: Traditional, arr. by Betty A. Wylder Love will guide us, peace has tried us, hope inside us will lead the way on the road from greed to giving. Love will guide us through the hard night. If you cannot sing like angels, if you cannot speak before thousands, you can give from deep within you. You can change the world with your love. Love will guide us, peace has tried us, hope inside us will lead the way on the road from greed to giving. Love will guide us through the hard night. Time for All Ages "A Bike Like Sergio's" by Maribeth Boelts illustrated by Noah Z. Jones Musical Interlude Welcoming Visitors, Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Prayer (by Rev. Marta I Valentin) ... Spirit of this World and Beyond we strive to keep conscious our interconnections, our interdependence, our trust in one another as human beings ... In truth and with compassion for we know that what we send out to the universe is what will return ... Offertory Sermon (Stacey Musulin) Closing Hymn #293 "O Star of Truth" Words: Minot Judson Savage Music: Finnish melody, adapt. by David Evans O star of truth, downshining through clouds of doubt and fear, I ask beneath thy guidance my pathway may appear; however long the journey, however hard it be, though I be lone and weary, lead on, I follow thee. I know thy blessed radiance can never lead astray, though ancient creed and custom may point another way; or through the untrod desert, or over trackless sea, though I be lone and weary, lead on, I follow thee. 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.

A Conversation on CT's Fiscal Roadblocks with House Speaker Matt Ritter, joined by members of the Hartford Legislative Delegation A GHIAA and CT For All event to compel policy change on CT's path to passing a budget that invests in community needs. Tuesday, April 8, 6:00-7:30 pm Immanuel Congregational Church, 10 Woodland St., Hartford ASL & Spanish interpretation provided Please register here We are grateful for the collaboration between Immanuel Congregational Church, Asylum Hill Congregational Church, GHIAA, and CT for All in organizing this event

Gathering Music Welcome and Announcements Centering Prelude Chalice Lighting and Opening Words “On the Brink”  By the Rev. Leslie Takahashi Opening Hymn #131 “Love Will Guide Us” Words by Sally Rogers Music: traditional, arr. By Betty A. Wylder Love will guide us, peace has tried us, hope inside us will lead the way on the road from greed to giving. Love will guide us through the hard night. If you cannot sing like angels, if you cannot speak before thousands, you can give from deep within you. You can change the world with your love. Love will guide us, peace has tried us, hope inside us will lead the way on the road from greed to giving. Love will guide us through the hard night. Time for All Ages “Love”  by Matt de la Pena illustrations by Loren Long    Musical Interlude Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering Mindful that March is Women's History Month, the recipient of our community outreach offering is the CT Alliance to End Sexual Violence. Their mission is to create communities free of sexual violence and to provide culturally affirming, trauma-informed advocacy, prevention, and intervention services centered on the voices of survivors.  Offering Music “Love’s in Need of Love Today”  By Stevie Wonder Will Alexon, vocals Sermon “Love Will Guide Us” By the Rev. Carolyn Patierno Closing Hymn #34 “Though I May Speak With Bravest Fire” Words by Hal Hopson Music traditional English melody, arr. By Hal Hopson Though I may speak with bravest fire, and have the gift to all inspire, and have not love, my words are vain as sounding brass and hopeless gain. Though I may give all I possess, and striving so my love profess, but not be given by love within, the profit soon turns strangely thin. Come, Spirit, come, our hearts control, our spirits long to be made whole. Let inward love guide every deed; by this we worship, and are freed. Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Rev. Josh's first drum kit (now collecting dust in the basement) Our March ministry theme is trust. This morning I want to share lessons about trust I learned playing in rock bands from age 12 to age 35 (with the occasional reunion show up until about age 40). As many of you know, I was a drummer (still am I suppose, but I play rather infrequently). As a drummer I was always part of the rhythm section. Although I had to endure many drummer jokes over the years, I came to love being part of the rhythm section. It became a point of pride for me. The rhythm section doesn’t–or at least shouldn’t–occupy the limelight. The rhythm section isn’t the front-person, isn’t the lead singer, the lead guitarist or any other soloists. The rhythm section isn’t the star of the show. Music critics typically don’t write about the rhythm section. But the rhythm section matters. The bass, drums and guitar (and sometimes the keyboard) provide the foundation that allows the star, or stars, to shine. If you can’t trust the rhythm section to provide that foundation, the music falls apart. In this week’s  announcement for this service, I asked, “What does it mean to be part of a trustworthy rhythm section? What does it mean to trust the rhythm section? And more to the point, how’s your  rhythm section? I offer the rhythm section  as a potent metaphor for reflecting on the quality and depth of our spiritual lives, individually and collectively. How’s your rhythm section?  I started taking drums lessons at the Neighborhood Music School (NMS) in New Haven at age 9. My parents bought me my first drum set at age 11–hat drum set is set up in my basement to this day. I organized my first jam session with friends from the music school at age 12. At that time we were enamored with blazing guitar solos, like Eddie Van Halen’s 1978 masterpiece, “Eruption.” We were enthralled with male heavy metal singers who could reach amazingly high notes yet still sounded ragged, raw and, well, manly (Ozzy Osborne of Black Sabbath, Steve Tyler of Aerosmith, Freddy Mercury of Queen, Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin, and Ronnie James Dio who bounced around from band to band all come to mind). We were captivated by the out-of-this-world drum solos like John Bonham on Led Zeppelin’s performance of the song  “Moby Dick,” Keith Moon’s iconic live drum solos on the Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” and anything Neal Peart of Rush ever did. We were drawn to the grand, bombastic musical statements. My father kept suggesting the Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel, but we were drawn to what we thought was virtuosity–the unbelievably complicated patterns– how do they do that? --the lightning fast double picking, sometimes with two guitars playing in harmony. We were drawn to the glitz and the glam, the over-the-top outfits–eventually the spandex pants and the big, puffy hair of the 1980s. It all blew our young minds.  It was always the big solo or the singer that caught our attention. Never once did we wonder what the rhythm section was doing. Never once did we identify with, let alone idolize the rhythm section. When we played as kids, we always tried to do what we thought made rock ‘n’ roll great. So, on every song we learned, we added big drum fills and long guitar solos and even bass solos. I can still remember my mother, trying to be supportive, but wondering, ‘which part of this is the actual song?’ All she heard was a wall of bombastic, unrelenting sound, no part of it really connected to any other part of it. We were livin’ the late 1970s suburban middle school white boy rock ‘n’ roll dream! Eventually I grew out of it. I kept playing. I played in orchestras and wind ensembles. I played in folk groups and a steel drum band. I played bebop, swing, and fusion jazz (never well). I listened to Motown, funk, blues and R&B. I went through  a gospel phase. I studied with a variety of teachers over the years, and attended a few master classes with famous drummers. In college I took ethnomusicology and world music classes. I took a class on the history of African American music with the trumpet player Donald Byrd who was a visiting faculty member during my junior year. But I never lost my first musical love which was rock music. After college I moved to Boston with my brother and a close friend we’d been playing with since high school to pursue our dream of becoming rock stars.  I worked at it for ten years. I can’t say I loved every minute of it, but I don’t regret it for a minute either. We had some  of what it takes to be a successful band, but we didn’t have all  of what it takes, and we eventually moved on to other pursuits. What was different in those later music-making years, compared to my teenage music-making years, was the lack of drum solos and big fills and complicated, fancy beats. In those later years, what mattered to me was the rhythm section–bass, drums, guitar. Virtuosity had nothing to do with it. The point was to lay down a solid foundation so the singer could sing the song. The point was to keep the back-beat simple and solid–2 & 4, 2 & 4, 2 & 4; not to fill up all the space with splashy drum licks–but to leave space so the music could breathe, so the singer, the melody, the words, the other instruments had room to improvise, to create, to emote, to shine. Are the bass and drums in sync? That was our question. Are they playing just a notch behind the beat – in the pocket, as they say – so the tempo doesn’t rush, so the music feels tight and solid, but also relaxed and flowing? If the rhythm isn’t solid, if it doesn’t feel right, the rest of the band finds it difficult to play well. A good rhythm section is the bedrock, the ground, the root, the base, the footing, the support, the source.  Over the years, it became a point of pride for me to be the kind of drummer who understood that ultimately the music wasn’t about me and how impressive my drum skills were. Instead, I had a role to play in support of the music, Distinct from the people we idolized as kids, I learned musical humility. I learned to literally lay it back . I learned to get out of the way, because a busy drummer can really clog up a song. I learned to focus on how the music felt. I learned to listen–really listen–to the other players in the rhythm section. We learned to listen to each other, to feel the music together, so that whatever song we were playing would sound as compelling as possible, so that the song itself would shine.  And all along–though we never described it this way–we were learning to trust each other. If the band trusts the drummer – that is, if they’re not worried about the drummer speeding up or slowing down, or the drummer playing too loudly or too softly, or the drummer just being off in their own world and not deeply listening to the other players– if they’re not worried, they will play better. They will be more spontaneous, more creative. During those years I would get calls to do shows or recording sessions with other bands.  I would learn their music, then go to the rehearsal before the show or the session. At the beginning of the rehearsal there was always a moment when I could tell the band was wondering, can this guy do what we need him to do?  I would lay down that solid foundation. I would lock in with the bass player. And very soon I would sense the other players starting to relax, starting to groove, starting to soar, starting to trust. You have to trust your rhythm section.  The rhythm section makes the song shine. For a moment, I invite you to contemplate your life’s song, the melody your heart sings. By that I mean a number of things:  your identity–who you are in the world, the various roles you play;  your passions–the work you love, the activities that feed you, the causes and communities that call to you;  all the ways in which you are creative;  all the ways in which you are physically active. Contemplate for a moment the song your life sings.  It’s a beautiful song, yes? Now, as you contemplate that song, let me ask you, how’s your rhythm section? How’s your foundation–your bedrock, your grounding, your sense of rootedness, your footing, your sources of support, your sources of stability and resilience?  Beneath your life’s song, are the bass and drums in sync? Are they listening to each other? Are they laying it back, just behind the beat, so you can relax, so you can sink and settle into the music and sing your life’s song however you feel compelled to sing at any given moment? Do you trust your rhythm section?  When I think of my rhythm section, I think of my relationships and connections. My connections to family and friends who support me and on whom I can count when I’m feeling down or not quite sure of myself. I think of my connections to colleagues–both Unitarian Universalist and those of other faiths–who support me in my professional life and with whom I work for a more just community. I think of this Unitarian Universalist congregation, this beloved community, that has given so much to me over so many years, has supported me, has trusted me. I hope and trust this congregation is in your rhythm section! I also think of my connections to the natural world, to the earth, to the changing seasons that ground me, that root me, that remind me it’s usually not about me, that remind me to listen, to leave space, to stay steady, to feel, to relax, to sink down, to settle in. I think of my connections to spirit, which moves and flows within us and among us, and offers its own beautiful rhythms.  When I began my seminary studies I was still playing in bands. I remember the professors and teaching assistants were always inviting us to engage in theological reflection. How is God acting in this moment? What is God doing in this moment? How is God moving in this moment?  Having always considered myself an atheist, these questions were unfamiliar to me. At first I didn’t know how to answer them, which became the reason–which many people report in seminary–I felt like a fraud, like I really didn’t belong there. How is God moving in this moment? How would I know? But I stayed with the questions, and eventually had the insight to turn to what I knew. And I knew that when the rhythm section is humming, when the bass and drums are in sync, when the players are listening to each other, when they leave sufficient space, the music shines. I decided that’s how God shows up in my life: in the rhythm section.  Indeed, all life is rhythm: movement following rest, following movement; sound following silence following sound; beating heart, pumping blood, breath in and out, in and out, in and out. There’s a reason the first instruments were drums.  All life is rhythm: Day into night, winter into spring into summer into fall; the cycling of planets, stars, galaxies and the universe itself.             How’s your rhythm section? Are your bass and drums in sync? Are they listening to each other, lining up a little behind the beat? Are they so solid your melody can soar?              How’s your rhythm section, that endless pulsation, that steady foundation? Can you trust it enough to let go and belt out your song, create your art, live your life?             All life is rhythm. Let us learn to trust the rhythm.             Amen and blessed be.

Gathering Music Performer: Meetinghouse Welcome and Announcements Prelude "Find Your People" By Drew Holcomb Performer: Meetinghouse Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "All Life is a Rhythm" By Rev. Josh Pawelek Opening Song #1009 "Meditation on Breathing" By Sarah Dann Jones Time for All Ages Musical Response "Find Your People" reprise By Drew Holcomb Performer: Meetinghouse Joys and Concerns Musical Response "Find Your People" reprise By Drew Holcomb Performer: Meetinghouse Offering Mindful that March is Women's History Month, the recipient of our community outreach offering is the CT Alliance to End Sexual Violence. Their mission is to create communities free of sexual violence and to provide culturally affirming, trauma-informed advocacy, prevention, and intervention services centered on the voices of survivors. Offering Music "Forgiveness" By Patty Griffin Performer: Meetinghouse Sermon "How's Your Rhythm Section? A Meditation on Trust" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Song "Give Me Love" By George Harrison Performer: Meetinghouse 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 "I Know This Rose Will Open" Meditation by Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "We light this flame as an act of faith" by Rev. Scott Tayler We gather again, with joy and gratitude, but also with pieces and parts that are worn out and worn down, wanting, once again, to trust, to believe that hope is not as fragile as it sometimes seems, that division is not as deep as it sometimes appears. And so we light this flame as an act of faith, a reminder a redeclaration a rekindling of the trust that darkness can’t ever shut out the light, that kindness is more powerful than we know, that humility and accountability allow us to change, that together we can most certainly bend the arc of this miraculous universe toward beauty, toward justice toward love.   Opening Hymn   #131 “Love Will Guide Us” Words: Sally Rogers arr. by Betty A Wylder   Love will guide us, peace has tried us, hope inside us will lead the way on the road from greed to giving. Love will guide us through the hard night.   If you cannot sing like angels, if you cannot speak before thousands, you can give from deep within you. You can change the world with your love.   Love will guide us, peace has tried us, hope inside us will lead the way on the road from greed to giving. Love will guide us through the hard night.    Time for All Ages                                                                “ Frederick” Written and illustrated by Leo Lionni   Joys and Concerns   Musical Interlude   Introduction to the Service/Speakers   Reflection from Patricia Corey-Lisle   Musical Interlude   Reading  #580 “The Task of the Religious Community”   Reflection from Caitlin Vasquez-O’Brien   Offering   Mindful that March is Women's History Month, the recipient of our community outreach offering is the CT Alliance to End Sexual Violence. Their mission is to create communities free of sexual violence and to provide culturally affirming, trauma-informed advocacy, prevention, and intervention services centered on the voices of survivors.   Offering Music   “Spirit of Life”       Love offering by Mary Bopp   Reflection from Sid Soderholm     Closing Hymn          #396 “I Know This Rose Will Open” Words and Music: Mary E. Grigolia   I know this rose will open. I know my fear will burn away. I know my soul will unfurl its wings. I know this rose will open.   Extinguishing the Chalice and Closing Words   #698 by Wayne B. Arnason Take courage friends. The way is often hard, the path is never clear, and the stakes are very high. Take courage. For deep down, there is another truth: You are not alone.   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

There’s a reading in our hymnal by the Rev. Mark Morrison-Reed which tells us “the central task of the religious community is to unveil the bonds that bind us each to all.” On this late winter Sunday morning, as we welcome new members into our congregation, and as we launch our Annual Appeal to raise the funds we need to support our staff, our ministries, and our beloved meeting house & grounds in the coming congregational/fiscal year, this is the message I want you take with you into your week. “The central task of the religious community is to unveil the bonds that bind each to all.” Though I want to adapt it slightly this morning. Mindful that there are many forces in the world that seek to fragment and weaken the bonds that bind each to all, the central task of the religious community is not only to unveil them, but also to nurture, grow and strengthen them. There’s work involved. And I believe it’s work we do well here at UUSE.  For those of you who are new to the congregation and may not be familiar with our Annual Appeal–and as a reminder for those of you who are familiar–this is our largest fundraiser of the year. While we generate some income from building rentals, endowment interest, one-time gifts and fundraisers like the holiday fair and the goods and services auction, the Annual Appeal is our primary source of revenue. Each year in March our Stewardship Committee runs this campaign. We like to connect face-to-face with as many of you as possible to ask directly for your financial pledge to UUSE for the coming year. You have the opportunity to sign up for a pledging potluck, where a small group meets with an Annual Appeal steward. Those who don’t sign up will have the opportunity to meet with a steward one-on-one (please respond promptly to your steward when they reach out to you!) In these meetings, the question is not “How much will you give?”—though we do care about that. The question is “What does this congregation mean to you?” We hope–I hope–UUSE means the world to you, that this is a place where the bonds that bind each to all are not only unveiled for you, but where you have the opportunity to tend to them—to nurture, grow and strengthen them. And in response, we hope–I hope–you will make the most generous financial pledge possible.  I’d like to give a shout-out to our Stewardship Committee members, Patricia Wildes (chair), Phil Sawyer, Stan McMillen, Larry Lunden and Louisa Graver. Thanks to each of you for the work you do on behalf of our congregation! We’re asking for a 4% increase in financial pledging over last year. In short, if everyone who pledged last year increases their pledge by 4% we’ll be doing just fine. Of course, it’s never that easy. Not everyone can increase their pledge, and some may have to reduce their pledge, depending on financial circumstances. Some have died and so we’ve lost some pledges. We always face headwinds. What this means is that, in any year, whatever our target percentage is, our ability to reach it depends on some members and friends increasing their pledge by an even higher percentage. I know the Stewardship Committee is eager for you to understand this. Mindful that almost none of you come to worship on Sunday morning to hear about the congregation’s budget, I nevertheless want to share a few things about it as you contemplate your financial pledge for the coming year. I want you to know how the Policy Board landed on a 4% overall pledge increase, and I want you to know what’s missing from the budget. As a reminder, two years ago our Policy Board and Finance Committee promised that we would present balanced budgets to the congregation and stop the practice of passing deficit budgets and slowly spending down our reserves. We are still committed to that, and the budget we’re proposing for next year balances. But not without some pain. As is always the case, the first draft of the budget was way out of balance because it included everything everyone asked for. The Policy Board had to make some very difficult decisions in order to make it balance. I am proud of the work they did. They are good stewards of the congregation’s precious resources. Though none of us like the decisions, they are necessary. Among them are a reduction to staff professional expenses, a delay in the process of bringing some of the staff salaries up to Unitarian Universalist Association guidelines, a reduction in the dues we pay to the Unitarian Universalist Association, a reduction in the amount we will spend on a cleaning service, and a few other smaller cuts. After these cuts, the budget balances if we can increase pledging by 4%. Still, there’s one glaring omission in all of this, and I would be remiss if I did not talk about it. Two years ago, when we promised to start presenting balanced budgets, we also promised to start growing our building reserve fund. For fifteen years we’ve been inhabiting this rebuilt and expanded building—this beloved, green, accessible, beautiful meeting house. Some maintenance and repairs are already coming due, and over the next ten years we can anticipate considerable building-related expenses. We should have much more in our building reserves than we do. So we had hoped to produce a balanced budget that transfers some of our Annual Appeal funds into our building reserve fund. We’re not able to do that. The budget balances with a 4% increase, but the building fund doesn’t grow unless we do considerably better than 4%. We don’t have to solve this problem in its entirety this year. This is a long-term challenge. The Policy Board is planning to launch a separate end-of-year campaign to invite members and friends to make a special contribution to the building fund. We are also expecting to receive a considerable bequest from the estate of Cliff Pelletier and the Policy Board will recommend that a portion of that money be allocated to the building reserve—though they won’t make that decision without congregational input. And, we know, in future budgets, we have to start paying for our building, as if we still had a mortgage. We cannot leave to those who are coming after us a large bill for deferred maintenance with no money to pay for it. I have complete confidence that we will meet this challenge.  **** The theme for our Annual Appeal is “Strengthen Our Connections.” In contemplating this theme, it kept occurring to me that in a few weeks we will observe the five-year anniversary of the Covid-19 pandemic lockdown. March 12th is the day many people identify as the day the lockdown officially began. I invite you for a moment to recall that time. What do you remember? On March 12th, 2020—it was a Thursday—I remember our Policy Board and staff made a decision to move everything online. All congregational life, events, programs, ministries: online. Sunday, March 15th was our first online Sunday. I found my order of service from that day. At the top I had written in big red letters: “Reminder: Zoom is not perfect.” There was so much we didn’t know--not only about conducting online worship and online congregational life, not only about all the ways to use technology to enhance the online experience, but about the virus, about how sick people would get, about how many people would die, about how long we would be locked down. I remember two months later, in May of 2020, the Unitarian Universalist Association advised congregations to plan on being locked down for at least a year. We were shocked. We were devastated. There was so much we didn’t know and couldn’t anticipate about the toll the lockdown would take on frontline workers, on teachers and students, on the economy. There was so much we didn’t know and couldn’t anticipate about the politics of masking, social distancing and vaccines. But I remember many conversations with our then Director of Children and Youth Ministry, Gina Campellone, with the rest of our staff–Mary, Jane and Annie–and with our Policy Board and Program Council leaders. We knew there was a lot we didn’t know, but we were crystal clear that our primary mission was to keep people connected . Don’t worry if you can’t run a program online the way you were planning to run it in person at the meeting house, just keep people connected. Don’t worry if the technology isn’t perfect, or if the music doesn’t quite sound right, or if the video doesn’t load properly. Every week we’ll learn a little bit more, we’ll get there, slowly but surely; but for right now, keep people connected. Don’t worry if you can’t implement the elementary school curriculum over Zoom, just keep the kids connected. Unveil the bonds that bind each to all. In my entire career, it has never been more clear to me that that is indeed the central task of the religious community. Unveil the bonds that bind each to all. Nurture those bonds. Grow those bonds. Strengthen those bonds. Keep people connected. Though today we aren’t in the midst of a pandemic lockdown, right now things feel eerily similar to five years ago. There is so much happening in the country and the world that is profoundly unnerving, unsettling, overwhelming, disorienting, frightening, enraging. There is so much confusion about what to take seriously, what is true and what is false, what is bluster and what is a genuine threat, where to focus attention, how to get involved, how to resist. There is so much we don’t know and can’t anticipate about what is coming, about what will be lost, about who will be harmed. There is so much need for ways to stay grounded and centered, rooted and safe. And there is so much need for real relationship, for real, solid, reliable, beloved community. That sense of mission that was so clear to me in the midst of the pandemic lockdown is just as clear to me today: Here at UUSE we need to keep people connected. That is why this congregation matters. On Sunday mornings: stay connected. Those of you in the meeting house, hug each other, hold each other, look each other in the eyes, bear witness to each other’s struggles, anxieties and fears. Those of you online, chat to each other. Let each other know how much you care! In the children and youth ministry: keep people connected. In the classes, in the time for all ages, in the special programs, in the youth group soup fundraiser, in all the ways children and youth are involved, keep them connected. On our many committees and task forces that meet so many different congregational needs and carry out so many congregational ministries: keep people connected. In our small groups and our affinity groups: keep people connected. Never forget what Cliff Pelletier said the day before he died. When asked why the UUSE book group was so important to him, he said ‘because they included me.’ Keep people connected. Through our concerts, the coffee house, the music salon, the holiday choirs and the women’s sacred singing circle: keep people connected. Through our pastoral care ministries, which have been so important in response to the frankly large number of deaths we’ve experienced over the past year: keep people connected. Through our sustainable living and environmental justice ministries: keep people connected. Through our social justice ministries and all our relationships with organizations in the wider community—GHIAA, Connecticut for All, HUSKY for Immigrants, Verplanck Elementary School, the Interreligious Eco-Justice Network, Moral Monday CT, Power Up CT: keep people connected. Unveil the bonds that bind each to all. Nurture those bonds. Grow those bonds. Strengthen those bonds. I am so heartened that, over the past six months, and even more so since the election, many new people have started worshipping with us on Sunday mornings, including some families with young children. I am so heartened that seven of you became official members of the congregation in December. Two more joined privately in February. Five more are joining this morning, and two more will join privately on Tuesday—not to mention ten more people who joined during the last congregational year. With each new member, with each friend of the congregation, with each visitor we slowly unveil the bonds that bind each to all. As you contemplate your financial pledge to UUSE for the coming congregational year, know that we’re seeking a 4% increase overall over last year. Know that we’ve had to make some fairly steep cuts but we are proposing a balanced budget. Know that we’re still struggling to put money annually into our building reserve. But most importantly, know that your gift—your heartfelt, generous gift to UUSE—assures us that this congregation will be here in the most difficult times, unveiling the bonds that bind each to all. Know that this congregation will also be here in the good times, the joyful times—all the times of our lives—nurturing, growing and strengthening the bonds that bind each to all. Keeping people connected. That matters immensely. Please pledge generously.  Amen and Blessed be.