 I might need to open up your chair and give an element to my chair. Okay, I just need to do the level. I know it's awesome, but I don't know what your board is. It's a wheel chair. It's probably a wheel chair. I heard that's pretty cool. It's on stage. You don't stop when you're there, but it's a place that looks all the way down. Oh, I should be just sitting there. I don't think it's a wheel chair. I think that's a bad thing to sleep on. Right. And we know what to do with something we're supposed to do. I don't think that's a wheel chair. And you are sitting next to someone on the right. All right. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Oh, I really like that. Yeah. Now, Louie announced that. Did I just get the video? No. That was a mistake. You know, it's like a brand deal. Okay. As you expected. Okay. I always felt that way. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. This is a community where curious seekers gather to explore spiritual social issues in a welcoming and accepting environment. Unitarian Universalism supports the freedom of conscience. Together we seek to be a force for good in the world. My name is Karen Rose Gredler, and on behalf of the entire congregation, I would like to extend a special welcome to visitors. We are a welcoming community, so whoever you are and wherever you are on your life's journey, we celebrate your presence among us in this congregation. As we gather in this place and time, let us remember we are all visitors in this life. We come together to find meaning and hope with all the other visitors in our life. Let us join our hearts and minds together as we celebrate life together. Please silence your cell phones as I invite you to join me now in a few moments of silence for contemplation, meditation, prayer as we settle in and come fully into this time and place together. Please join us in whatever way works for you in singing the in-gathering hymn, number 134. Our hearts can hear a different call when we gather together. Our hearts can hear different questions and see different answers and ponder different perspectives as we consider this poetic question from the Reverend Victoria Safford. What if there is a universe, a cosmos that began in the shining blackness out of nothing, out of fire, out of a single silent breath? And into it came billions and billions of stars, stars beyond imagining. If such a universe existed and you noticed it, what would you do? What song would come out of your mouth? What prayer? What praises? What sacred offering? What whirling dance? What religion? And what reverential gesture would you make to greet the world every single day that you were in it? And together we say the words printed in our order of service while Katie and Sam and Max come forward to light the chalice. As together we say, from the fire of this universe we spark our chalice to mark our time together, to connect, to interconnect, to greet this world in all of its glory. And speaking of greeting, I invite you to now turn to your neighbor and exchange a friendly greeting. Today is a special day where we invite the children to come forward for a message for all ages. You can come up and sit on this carpet. And if you really want to help, you can come and help be one of the characters in our story. There are so many options today. We also have, yeah, we're going to have pictures on the screen and we're going to have real live humans being part of the story. Now tell me, I have a question before we get started with the story. Is there a holiday coming up? What holiday is it? The 4th of July. In fact, I have a book right here. It's called Apple Pie 4th of July. What is that called sometimes? Independence Day? Have you ever heard that? Awesome. So today, instead of celebrating Inter-Independence Day, we're going to celebrate Inter-Dependence Day. And so we have a book called Earth Mother. And it goes like this. Earth Mother awoke with the dawn. She fanned sacred smoke in each of the four directions. Then she walked across the land singing a morning song. Earth Mother gave the beetle shiny jackets. She hung green acorns on the oaks. Bending low, she placed a piece of summer in a flower's seed. She turned her gaze to the sage-covered deserts that blew across the mesas. A hawk cupped the warm air with its wings. And then, human came forward and greeted Mother Earth as she walked beside the river. He held a net in his hands to catch frogs for his breakfast. You are kind to me, Earth Mother, said man. You sent frog to fill my belly, and I am grateful. Man slapped at his face. But why have you sent this wretched mosquito to torment me, to sting me at night, and drive me from my bed, he asked? Mosquito is bad, bad, bad. Frog, on the other hand, is sweet, tasty, and oh, so wonderfully delicious. If there were more frogs and no mosquitoes, none at all, this world would be perfect. Man went back to the business of hunting for frogs. And Earth Mother walked on. Earth Mother walked across the African savanna wearing a robe fringed with falling rain. She filled the waterholes and sharpened the thorn bushes. Her hand guided a sunbird to a blossom suite with nectar. She climbed a peak and flung a spear of lightning into the sky. The mountains felt the sting and fury of her storm. In the north, Earth Mother powdered the trees with snow. Tiny crystals gleamed in the air like diamond dust. What is diamond dust? What do you guys think? Any ideas? I think maybe it's when that snow looks really glittery and kind of dusty. Have you ever seen snow like that? Yeah, maybe that's what diamond dust is. In the late afternoon, Earth Mother heard frog calling. Frog sat on a rock near a lake. With a flick of his tongue, he caught a small insect and swallowed it whole. Thank you, Earth Mother, said frog. Mosquito and her sisters fill my belly and give me life. But why have you sent man to catch and eat me? Man is bad, bad, bad. Sweet, delicious mosquito, on the other hand, makes me happy. If there were more mosquitoes and no men, this world would be perfect. Earth Mother smiled and walked on. In the evening, Earth Mother dived with the whales into the depths of the ocean. Blue-green light trailed from her fingertips. A silver moon rose on the horizon. Earth Mother cradled an otter in a tangle of seaweed rocking him on the waves. It was night time. As Earth Mother walked through a meadow, she heard a tiny voice. Earth Mother, it is I, Mosquito, said the owner of the voice. Frog will surely feast on me tomorrow or the next day. He has already caught most of my sisters. But I am grateful for man who lives by the river. He is tender and delicious. When I bite him in bed at night, it is so yummy. What's needed is more men and none of those useless frogs. Then this world would be perfect. Earth Mother sighed. Once more she walked on. Earth Mother climbed the hill to her cloud teepee. She spangled a tree with fireflies. She spread spiderweb lace on the grass. Earth Mother said good night to the beetles, to the hawks, to the people, to the sunbirds, to the frogs, to the whales, to the otters, to the mosquitoes, to the fireflies, to her children everywhere. Then she went to sleep. And the world in its own way was perfect. What do you think of that? That's the end of the story. Do you think we should get rid of mosquitoes? Yes. Yes? There's some yes. Do you think we should get rid of humans? No. No? Oh, you guys are human-centric. Maybe? What do you think about? What about frogs? Should we get rid of frogs? Frogs are cool. Well, yeah, it's kind of, we're all related. They were all having each other for breakfast in one way or another, and they all needed each other, didn't they? Yeah, right. Well, today's a special day. You get to stay in service, and we're going to do some special things together. And the first special thing we're going to do together is sing a song. And that is our hymn. Let's see what hymn number it is. 1074. So you can go back to your families, and then when it's time to come back up, I'll let you know, okay? Please rise in all the ways that we do. You may be seated after that workout. Like I was telling the children, today is a special day. We are worshiping together. Families of all sizes, shapes, and ages. The 4th of July is this week, so many people in this country will be celebrating Independence Day. There will be picnics and parades and fireworks that keep you up at night when you're trying to go to sleep. And fun with friends. In addition to celebrating the story of independence, a story that focuses on freedom and self-determination. Today in worship service, we will be celebrating interdependence. A story about being connected to one another and to the greater universe. Much like the humans, frogs, and mosquitoes in the story we acted out, we are more connected than we sometimes can perceive. In social, physical, and emotional ways, we depend on each other to survive and to thrive. Because each one of us is important and because our community is diminished if any one of us is not here, today we have ways to keep fingers busy. So if you or someone you love likes to color and do mazes and word finds, you can come up and get some crayons. We are going to listen to some special music soon and you can do that during the special music or you can do it now. So after the musical reflection, we'll be creating our very own webs made of yarn, our interdependent webs. And so I'm going to need 14 people to come forward and help me with that. So be thinking about if you want to help with that. And until then, let us enjoy some special music. Thank you, Julie, for your music this morning. How many of you know how many principles Unitarian Universalists covenant to affirm and promote? Say it out loud. Seven. Seven, yes. And the seventh one is? The interdependent web of existence. Yes, we respect the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part. So together we are going to weave some webs with yarn here up front. So I need some helpers of all ages to come and make circles. I need two circles, seven people over here and seven people over here. So come on up, kids of all ages. Can I give this to you as that grown up? Right. I will give one person in each circle a skein of yarn. And I'm going to read seven readings to represent our seven principles. And each time I do a reading, you get to pass the yarn around, okay? So try to hold on to the strand of yarn gently but firmly as the skein unwinds and we make our webs together. So this first reading comes from Langston Hughes and Doug is interdependent with me and I with him. So together we will read this poem called Earth Song by Langston Hughes. It is an earth song and I have been waiting long for an earth song. It's a spring song and I've been waiting long for a spring song. Strong as the bursting of young buds. Strong as the shoots of a new plant. Strong as the coming of the first child from its mother's womb. An earth song. A body song. A spring song. And I have been waiting long for an earth song. Okay. So this looks like you guys are making your webs. That's awesome. Okay, the second reading comes from Gary Kalowski. It's about children. Children widen the circle of our being in ways that are limitless. Every baby that's born connects us to our history. Our own parents, grand parents and unknown forebears who brought new life to the world in each successive generation. Every baby that's born links us to the future. To a world yet to come that belongs to our descendants and that we hold and trust for our posterity whom we will never know. Each child connects us to nature. To the innocence and exuberance of a world always hatching newborns. Kittens and pups and lambs and babes. Each child reminds us of the kinship we share with people of other lands and races who love their young as purely and as tenderly as we do. Each child connects us to the universe. To the holy mysteries of birth and death in becoming from which we all emerge. Children widen the circle of our beings in ways that are limitless. Okay. So this third reading needs help from you and your words that you say when I gesture to you are we are Earth. Okay, let's hear it. We are Earth. Okay. Now, this is called Remember and it's by Joy Harjo. And it starts like this. Remember the Earth whose skin you are. Red Earth. Black Earth. Yellow Earth. White Earth. Brown Earth. We are Earth. Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their tribes, their families, their histories too. Talk to them. They are alive poems. Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the origin of this universe. Remember you are all people and that all people are you. We are Earth. Remember you are this universe and that this universe is you. We are Earth. Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you. We are Earth. Remember language comes from this. Remember the dance language is, that life is. Remember. We are Earth. Beautiful. Oh, I wish you could see these webs. They are looking fabulous. I will read a fourth piece adapted from the work of Vaklav Haval. And before I do that, I'm going to invite our web holders to switch balls of yarn across. So Ann. Ann, can you trade your yarn ball across? I know. Talk about interconnection, right? This makes it exciting. It's very symbolic. This is exactly what life is like. A little bit on the messy side sometimes. I know, can you believe it? So from Haval who writes, we must divest ourselves of our egotistical anthropocentrism. Our habit of seeing ourselves as masters of the universe who can do whatever it occurs to us. We must discover a new respect for what transcends us, for the universe, for the Earth, for nature, for life, and for reality. Our respect for other people, for other nations, and for other cultures can only grow from a humble respect for the cosmic order. And from an awareness that we are a part of it, we share in it. And that nothing of what we do is lost, but rather becomes part of the eternal memory of being where it is judged. Here ends the Haval reading. Now our fifth reading is a poem by Nancy Schaefer, and it's entitled, In the Beginning. It goes like this. Kate is teaching the kids about dinosaur air. That air you breathe, that air you have inside you every time you take a breath, that is dinosaur air. She says, she says, dinosaurs breathed it. The kids' eyes are very wide. They take deep gulfs of air just to have more dinosaur air inside of them. The air we have is all the air we will ever have, Kate says. So we have to take good care of it. The kids gulp less. Consider the air they already have inside of them. Kate tells more. Actually, we are all cousins. The kids look at each other just believing and believing. You, we, all of us, our cousins, we, all of us, way, way back began as cousins, way back in the beginning. The kids whoop and clap each other on the back. For the rest of the day, they savor air and call each other cousin. So let's hear a little whoop. Whoop! Let's clap each other on the back and call each other cousin. Cousin, I know. Doug is going to read this next to last reading, which is by Thich Nhat Hanh. Water flows from high in the mountains. Water runs deep in the earth. Miraculously, water comes to us and sustains all life. Water and sun green these plants. When the rain of compassion falls, even a desert becomes an immense green ocean. Okay, and our seventh and final reading comes from Mary Oliver's poem entitled Two Shiva. Shiva, pretend you are with me as the doe in her summer red coat tiptoes down through the pines and enters the pasture. She neither hurries nor hesitates. She knows exactly how carefully it must be done. Shiva, I know the odds. If the fawn is where she left it, the world in that moment goes on being created. And if the fawn has vanished, it is the destroyers, our Lord of life and death. I just wanted you to stand here for a moment, not like a god, but like a mortal being to see for yourself how the doe carefully vanishes into the grass. And when she emerges, how the heart leaps joyful, if the world steps out beside her, that little dancer still licking milk from its lips. There is a lot of little lips up here. What are they saying? What are they talking about? Are you talking about doze and fawns and milk? No! Well, I want you to stand up and show off your webs to the whole congregation. Thank you, Doug. And now will you carefully place it on the ground right where you are sitting and through words and actions, we have recreated all of the beings in the universe and how they are all connected to one another. You are welcome to go back to your seats with your families as we go into a very important part of our service, which is about the giving and receiving of our offering. And I hope you come take a look at these webs up here. Either after service or during the joys and sorrows. Now each one of us has a role to play in helping the earth and its species survive and thrive for we depend on each other. And each week we have the opportunity to put into practice the very interdependence that we have embodied when we share the gifts of our financial resources for the good of this whole congregation. We will now joyfully receive and generously give this morning's offering. We're clapping our paws for you. Thank you for your generosity today and in all the days and in all the ways that you give to this congregation. Once a month we strengthen our interconnectedness by sharing our joys and sorrows. We invite candles and place them in these sand boxes and today we're going to actually use water instead. So water and ripples are symbolic of the ways that we are interconnected. Your joy impacts me and your sorrow impacts me and all of our joys and sorrows impact one another. So if you arrived here today with a joy or a sorrow that you just need to share, now is going to be your time. Maybe it's going to be swimming in the pool this week or maybe it's going to be a long lost friend who you have to say goodbye to. So for the next few minutes or moments we have plenty of time today. Anyone who wishes to share their happy's or sad's is welcome to come up front, take a stone and place it in the water and that is for my friend who is facing some hard decisions in the future. Is this on now? I'm going to start. I was told that Marie McCabe, a long time member died. My joy is that it's finally summer. This is Nancy Wetter-Schultz for those folks who are not here but online someplace. And my joy is that we just got a Prius Prime which is a hybrid and we also just got solar panels on our garage so we can plug our Prius into the sun. You know, with all this difference of how we're operating today, I forgot something. So what I want to say is on behalf of the whole congregation, how much we appreciate all the folks who make an effort each week to make possible the service. Our breeders were Dora Urban with Claire Hawkes, our lay ministers are Anne Smiley and John McGevan. Our sound operator is David Briles. Thanks, David. Our ushers were Pamela McMullen, Marty Hollis and Dora Gruden. Hospitality is being provided by Lois Evenson and Nancy Costa. Caring for the Tulip Palms is Nancy Webster. Our tour guide is John Powell. And if you are interested in a tour of our campus, please meet John over here by the big windows on what's your left side after the service. And at our welcome and information table will be Mary Burton. Thank you all so much for everything you did. I'm Alyssa Ryanjoy. I'm Anjali Nell. And we are putting a rack in the water for Sarah Scott, mother of Jackie Regan-Bogan, who's a member here. Jackie and her wife Dawn have been spending a lot of time caring for Sarah as she's getting close to passing. And so we're just keeping them in our thoughts. Anya and I had the chance to visit her this week with my mom as well. And she, I guess, a joy to bring is that she had a lot of days of pain and not really interacting with people. And she told us when we left that day she had found returning joy on that day. So we were happy to hear that. I'm going to do an additional one. This one is for my mother who's celebrating her retirement of 20 years of Montessori teaching. And I got to go to her retirement party yesterday and talk to a lot of her students. And so very fitting with the pond ripples. It was really neat to meet all the ripples that had come from her love of teaching and all the people that have been impacted by her that came out to express her appreciation. Another one? You can put one in. Do you think in the web of life are all the people who are homeless? Also in the web of life are all the people who are homeless here in Madison, on the border, and are dealing with this very hot weather with no place to live and no coolness in their lives. So may we hold them in love and compassion. I want to share a joy that after attending our General Assembly I got to spend a few days with my sister who lives in Chicago but I don't get to see her nearly enough and we got to do a lot of hiking in Idaho and it was a wonderful time. We will place into our pond one last pebble for all those joys and sorrows that are still held in our hearts for whatever reason. We see you, we hear you, we send our love. May the love of this community hold you in your joy and your sorrow in the days to come. Let us raise our voices and song together as we sing hymn number 1064, Blue Boat Home. I invite you to rise in all the ways that we do. On this earth, our blue boat home, we remember, honor, and celebrate our interdependence with one another with the greater universe. As David Breeden reminds us in his poem, him to the light. Our light is the light of the sun, keeper of all we love. Our light is the light of the earth, provider of sustenance. Our light is the light of all living things, life precious like our own. Our light is the light of each of us, bound together in need and hope. Our light is the light of the cosmos, the keeper of all we know. We extinguish this communal light, but not the knowledge we cherish, not the community we crave, and not our connections to the cosmos. These we carry with us until we gather again. I invite you to be seated for one last gift of music.