 Welcome to the First Unitarian Society of Madison. This is a community where curious seekers gather to explore spiritual, ethical and social issues in an accepting and nurturing environment. Unitarian Universalism supports the freedom of conscience of each individual, as together we seek to be a force for good in the world. My name is Karen Rose Gredler, and on behalf of the congregation, I want to extend a special welcome to visitors and newcomers and all our regulars. We are a welcoming congregation, so wherever you are and whoever you are on your life's journey, we celebrate your presence among us. We invite you to stay for fellowship hour after today's service. This would be a great time to silence all cell phones as we join together in a few moments of silence and become fully present with ourselves and one another, and come fully into this time and place together. I now invite you to rise in all the ways we do for our in-gathering hymn, number 347. Good morning. Gather the spirit, harvest the power, our separate fires will kindle one flame. Witness the mystery of this hour, our trials in this light appear all the same. Gather in peace, gather in, gather in sympathy now and then. Gather in compassion and strength, gather to silence again. Gather the spirit, deeds for the soul, nurtured in love and conscience, with body and spirit united once more. Gather in peace, gather in, and strength, gather to celebrate once again. Gather the spirit, the song, winter to spring and summer, the chorus of life resounding as one. Gather in, now and then, gather to sound. Please remain standing for our opening words and the lighting of the chalice. As we enter this shared, sacred space, let us renew both our commitment and our covenant. There are those among us who have endured a loss in this past week. May their hope be uplifted again in this community of faith. There are those among us who have wrestled with questions that seem to have no answer this past week. May they find sanctuary in this community of faith. There are those among us who have cherished an unexpected joy in the past week. May their gladness be celebrated as we commit to continue our free and responsible search for truth. May we covenant to honor the many paths that have led us to this time and this place together. And if you will now join together in the words of affirmation as we light our chalice. May the light of this chalice give light and warmth to our community when we are joyful and when we despair. And may we feel the warmth spread from our circle to wider and wider circles until all know they belong to the one circle of life. And if you will take a moment now to turn and greet those around you. And if we have anyone who'd like to come closer for our story please come on up. Morning Elliot. How was your week? Did you have a good week? Good. Well we have a story today called the Little Red Fort. And it may seem a bit familiar. We'll see if you can figure out why. Ruby's mind was always full of ideas. One day she found some old boards. Who wants to help me build something? She asked her brothers. Oscar Lee pretended not to hear her. Rodrigo gave her a look that could melt popsicles. Jose almost fell off the fence. You don't know how to build anything they said. Ruby shrugged. Then I'll learn. And she did. Who wants to help me draw the plans? Ruby asked. The boys clutched their sides and howled with laughter. Not me said Oscar Lee. I don't think so said Rodrigo. No way said Jose. I am too busy. Fine said Ruby. I'll draw them myself. And she did. When all the supplies were gathered, Ruby asked. Who wants to help me cut the boards? Not me said Oscar Lee. I don't think so said Rodrigo. No way said Jose. I am too busy. Fine said Ruby. I'll gather them myself. And she did. When all the supplies were gathered, Ruby asked. Who wants to help me cut the boards? Not me said Oscar Lee. I don't think so said Rodrigo. No way said Jose. I'm too busy. Fine said Ruby. I'll cut them myself. And she did. When all the boards were neatly cut, Ruby said. Who wants to help me hammer in the nails? What do you think they said? No, not me said Oscar Lee. I don't think so said Rodrigo. No way said Jose. I'm too busy. Fine. Do they look too busy? Look at the picture. Do they look too busy? Too busy eating watermelon. Fine said Ruby. I'll hammer them myself. And she did. Soon Ruby's creation was complete. Who wants to come play in my fort? She called. I think they said this time. Yes, yes, yes. Me, me, said Oscar Lee. Let's go, said Rodrigo. I'll play, said Jose. I'm not busy anymore. Not so fast, Ruby said. You didn't help me draw the plans or gather the supplies or cut the boards or hammer the nails. You said I didn't know how to build. And you laughed at me. I'll play in the fort by myself. And she did. We didn't want to play anyway, the boys said. But they did. So they huddled, whispered and got straight to work. Oscar Lee made a mailbox. Rodrigo planted flowers. Jose painted the fort. Fire engine read. And she was delighted. That evening the boys followed a delicious aroma to a fort warming party. Who wants to help me clean this plate? Ruby asked. We do, the boys said. And they did. Why does this book sound familiar? Your name's Ruby. Do you want to build a fort? Do you ever build a fort if she wants to build a fort? Yes, all right. Why does this book seem familiar? Last week, Karen talked about Pinky, the elephant who liked to build forts. Well, I like this book. I do like the little red hen, which it's based on. But I do like this one. Because does Ruby give up when her brothers tell her she doesn't know how to build anything? No, what does she do? She learns. She figures it out. Does she learn on her own? Did she do those things on her own? Hammer the nails and cut the boards? No. Did she have a grown-up helping her? Public service announcement, never use power tools without a grown-up. Okay, that's just a promise. No power saws without a grown-up. See? Here's a grown-up help, but her cut those boards. Now, even though her brothers wouldn't help, she found people who would. And then at the end, when her brothers pitched in and started working, did she say, huh, too bad you're not coming in? Yes. No, once they... Wait, did she? Once they started working, what did she do? Let them come in. They shared cookies. They came in. She made room for her brothers because there are always room for more. Thanks guys for listening. And we are going to rise in all the ways we do and sing you out to class. Have a great time. Human leaves are cast and depressed. Is by Christopher Bice, entitled Grandmother's House. Over the river and through Atlanta traffic to Grandmother's House we go. That was our routine during various family holiday gatherings of my childhood. I remember looking at all the food spread out on Grandma's dining room table. There was a large turkey roasted to a golden brown. There were salads, casseroles, dressing, freshly baked rolls, and a variety of vegetables to choose from. But none of these were of interest to me. There was only one dish that mattered. It was served in an elegant fine china bowl with a ladle to the side. It was a delicious piping hot bowl of spaghettios. I was always excited to see that Grandma had cooked my favorite dish. She had lovingly opened the can, poured the contents into a pot, and warmed them to perfection. And of course there was the presentation. I am probably one of the few people on earth who has been served spaghettios from the finest china. My grandmother was southern Baptist. My father, her son became an Episcopal priest. I am a Unitarian Universalist minister. Grandma died before I became a member of a UU church. I am not sure how she would have reacted. Perhaps she would have felt the same as my aunt who once exclaimed to my brother Sam, Chris is a Unitarian? I thought he was at least an Episcopalian. This was not a diplomatic comment considering that Sam is an Episcopal priest. Would my grandmother be surprised by my choices? Maybe not. Grandma taught me from the earliest childhood that there is room at the table for someone who is a little bit different from the rest. The memory of that bowl of spaghettios continues to remind me to make room in my heart for people whose tastes and dispositions might be different. There can be room in our hearts for all. There can be a place at the table for everyone, even the more finicky children of God. Here ends our reading. Just a brief word about the anthem that we're going to sing. It's actually kind of a mash-up, a medley of a spiritual Godown Moses and an Italian opera chorus. And so I thought it would be appropriate to share what I thought those two things had in common. Godown Moses, the words of Godown Moses are about the Hebrew slaves in Egypt and saying to Pharaoh, let my people go. And the Italian opera chorus is from Verdi's opera Nabucco, and it is the chorus of the Hebrew slaves. So it's the same subject matter. And more importantly than that, though, is that each group, the slaves who sang the spiritual originally and the people of Italy who adopted what the song we're going to sing, Vapinciero, has a sort of unofficial national anthem. Had in common is that they used the song to protest directly to their oppressors. So the slaves would sing this spiritual, specifically so that their owners and masters could hear them say these words to their face. From your Bible that you taught us, you've enslaved us, let us go. And that's a fairly bold thing to do. In Italy, there's a little bit of a different situation. Italy was at the time, 1848, going through a sort of a revolution of its own, being made up of small states. At the time, they were hoping to unify and become one Italy. And they felt like the best way to do this was to put a king on the throne. They weren't wild about the idea, but they thought that was the best way to go, a monarchy. And the king that they were hoping to crown was named Victor Emanuel Reditalia, which the initials of which are V-E-R-D-I, Verdi. And this allowed dissidents on the street rebels to be able to shout at a police officer. Viva Verdi! And the officer would say, yes, I like his operas too, but that's not what they were really saying. There was that double meaning for those agitators. And when Verdi died, 53 years later, as his casket moved down the road, throngs of people lined the streets and sang Fepenciero, the chorus of the Hebrew slaves. And there wasn't a single one of them that did not understand the double meaning of what they were doing. Many thanks to our society choir for the gorgeous music this morning. The 13th century Persian mystic Rumi is often said to be the best-selling poet of the 21st century. I don't think it's accidental when you read his words, out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. What is it about a Sufi poet who lived over 800 years ago that catches our attention? I often think of these words about a magical field when I contemplate the idea of sanctuary, a place apart, a place of refuge and healing, welcome and peace. I wonder if his words resonate today because our culture is so often motivated by winning and losing, preoccupied with presenting ourselves to be right and others to be wrong, sitting in judgment about the thoughts and actions of others. Our political systems are deeply mired in differences of belief so that little or no positive action can be created. Our news is filled with stories of conflict, contentious interactions and power struggles. The challenges of modern life can certainly appear overwhelming. This past week I spent some time unplugged from modern life as I joined a group of 30 adults, teachers and parent chaperones who were taking 71 sixth graders to Upham Woods, an outdoor learning and education center in the Wisconsin Dells. This is an overnight trip where students spend two days hiking, participating in team building activities, studying the microscopic life to be found in pond water, all the while creating something of a sanctuary together in the woods. At our parent orientation, a staff member shared that not every student given this opportunity chooses to attend. She said for most of these kids, it's the first time away from home, away from their families and their routines, it's anxiety producing for them to be away from safe and comfortable spaces. It's a different way of being with others, some of whom you don't know very well or at all. You have to trust that it's all going to work out okay. Every year there are kids who stay home instead of coming with us because the thought of entering this different kind of space with people you barely know is just too much. Zendu Earthlin-Manuela Soto Zen priest recently wrote a book called Sanctuary, a meditation on home, homelessness and belonging. In it she writes, finding home, feeling home, being at home are complex, multi-layered, spiritual and cultural experiences independent of the place we live. Where is home? When I don't feel at home, where can I find sanctuary? These questions become critical when we are in a situation filled with anxiety or fear. Sanctuary is a feeling of being at home, a place where we feel our common humanity, shared trust, respect and love. To feel at home we need to be recognized, acknowledged, seen for who we are. It gives us energy to transform ourselves, to see possibilities, to work for a world where all are respected, seen and held in peace. This is the book I was reading when I headed into the woods with middle schoolers. Does anyone remember middle school? My memories of it are not particularly filled with moments of belonging, common humanity, trust, respect or love. I didn't know what to expect when I headed into the woods. I know I wasn't expecting what I found. The dozen kids assigned to me were a varied group, from differing elementary schools to having known one another since kindergarten, some who met last year, most having just met a short six weeks ago. They were still learning one another's names. And yet here they were, spending the next 48 hours together in intentional community. When we headed up to our team building activities, they were a pretty quiet group. Two hours later, they were boisterous, proud of their accomplishments, laughing as they recalled their funnier moments, saying things like, I cannot believe we did that. We are amazing. And yelling out to me, did you see that? Did you see us? I smiled and told them I did indeed see them and that I was so very proud. I was grateful for this opportunity because I witnessed in that time a great teaching more than they could know about how we create sanctuary for one another. How we create spaces of belonging. I was reminded that creating sanctuary takes imagination, trust, and determination. It also takes a great deal of relationship building. When you spend time getting to know people, when you build relationships first, it is okay to fail later. Our group began with activities to learn one another's names. Gradually followed by activities that were more complicated. What began as simple talking became conversation with one another, asking questions, seeking out ideas, and reflecting on what we had done. I noticed how these simple games were really about building trust and respect, learning to see the larger connections. It is this foundation created through trust and respect that allows us to embrace ever greater challenges together. The concrete example of challenge for these youth was literally to move each person through a spider's web created by elastic cord wound between two trees. It took them 27 times to complete the task. There were many mistakes, failed attempts, missteps along the way. I was expecting frustration, maybe some disappointment, or some flares of anger, but none of that appeared. They built their relationships first, had some knowledge of one another, which allowed them to take risks, make mistakes, and work as a team with a larger connection and a larger goal. They learned the importance of sharing ideas with everyone and listening to the ideas of everyone. When a few were trying to plan the next move on their own, our naturalist would yell out, can you all hear the idea from over here? And then everyone would stop and turn and listen. Creating a sanctuary means speaking up, sharing our ideas, and also listening to the ideas of others. It is only through listening to the voices of all that we have any hope of moving forward. Our naturalist reminded us time and again, solo efforts are impossible to sustain. Between each activity, the team would huddle to reflect on what had been learned, how this would help them moving forward into the next activity. How many times do we rush from one thing to the next? Never slowing down to ask what went well. What did we notice? What could we change? The slowing down time during those 27 attempts at the spider's web allowed space for the new to emerge. Pausing to reflect on what was happening, they stopped doing the same thing over and over again. They waited to see if there was something new, indeed something different trying to emerge. I didn't know what to expect when I left for the woods. What I found was a group of 11 and 12-year-olds who created sanctuary for one another, a place where they could bring their full selves, a space that held a deep recognition of shared humanity, respect, and caring. To create spaces of sanctuary, we need to be willing to do something that may seem personally scary or risky for the sake of a larger commitment we have made, whether that commitment is to ourselves, our families, friends, or to the values we hold sacred. Sanctuary space calls us to choose trust over fear. It is choosing to be true to one's own self when the world insists that the truth lies elsewhere and that you must quiet your own small voice. In the 1960s, Reverend Charles Grady wrote, Our churches are clearings in the wilderness of this time. Places of refuge and sanctuary for the bruised and the tired, and also places of healing and renewal. They are workshops for common endeavor, schools for learning and environment, transmitters and celebrators of heritage, tools for breaking down barriers, tools for building new bridges. Our churches are clearings in the wilderness of this time. Charles passed away in January of last year and he preached a sermon just a few months before his death where he said these words again. He said that he meant them in 1960 and he meant them still today. He said, I mean it now with this much trouble and exactly this much beauty swirling all around us. We need to create places of sanctuary for the bruised and the tired and we need places that hold us, places that know deep in their bones that we have a strong and holy purpose. What we do here has to be about more than the relief of finding a tribe of others of like mind and resting easy in that comfort. It is more than socializing, more than self-expression. Here you are called by name, the shimmering constellation of your identities acknowledged and here you are called to account. You are accountable to one another, to all people, all persons and every living thing. This is easy to say in words during a service. It is difficult to practice all week long and on the ground face to face one on one to discern for each of us what it means to be unitarian universalists in our homes, in our work or even in the woods. Margaret Wheatley said, you don't fear people whose story you know. If we really want to create sanctuary here, a place of true belonging, then we have to know one another. We have to be brave enough to start conversations. We live in a world of dehumanizing rhetoric where people's humanity is reduced and they can be hurt or have their basic human rights taken away. We live in a world of assumptions and stereotypes when people who are not like us live out there. If we want to create spaces of sanctuary, then we have to move in close, start conversations. When we learn the story of another, we connect into that common humanity we share. If 12 kids with very different histories, backgrounds, skin colors and language can do it, then I think we can too. We can be brave enough to listen with a desire to learn more about another's perspective. We can say things like, tell me more. Tell me what really matters. Help me understand why this is important to you. And then we do the hardest part. Listen. Listen to understand, not to agree or disagree, just to move in closer and learn another story. Here's what I believe. I believe that more than ever, we need to be with one another here. We need to talk to one another about what we believe, what sustains us, what matters most. We need to be friends to one another. And each and every single time we are here, we need to add at least one more person to our circle. Solo efforts are impossible to sustain. Now last weekend at our parish meeting, our open question asked, how does FUS provide sanctuary for you? How might the sanctuary you find at FUS make us better able to offer and support sanctuary in the world outside these walls? As the groups reported out, we heard time. And again, FUS is a sanctuary for me because here I am welcomed, here I am home. We heard the importance of being a community of welcome. The need each time we gather to be welcoming, to be of kind heart, to willingly listen to another story. Welcome every person in. Say hello. Reach out so that everyone who enters is greeted. We heard of the need to be a people of welcome. A people of open hearts for every person who walks through our doors. At every door a friendly face, when you come and when you leave. At every turn during fellowship hour, someone knew saying hello. Together we can create this space, this community, this sanctuary where more people are meeting one another and sharing their stories. Where more people are feeling welcome, finding connections, building relationships and creating a home. And in that feeling of home, living with a sanctuary within themselves and within this community. Our world is full of the bruised and the hurting. The world is full of hungry, lonely souls. Our greatest hope and our greatest power lies in reaching out beyond ourselves. Seeking both to build our relationships in community here and to encourage each other to act for change in the world around us. Find one person today after the service whom you have never met and share a story from your week. I spent time with middle schoolers in the woods. What happened for you? Take the time to get to know others and to be known. Make time for the spiritual renewal that we undertake so your own sense of serving something larger than yourself, your own sense of shared meaning with the people here grows. When we can take this time slowing down and reflecting upon what is emerging within us and among us, we can hold sanctuary in this community. A space of healing, a space of vision, a space of holiness and peace for ourselves, one another, and all who will walk through our doors. Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there. And I now invite you into the giving and receiving of the morning's offering. Our outreach offering recipient is the YWCA of Madison. You can find out more about their good work in your order of service and we thank you for your generosity. The shared ministry that is our weekly worship services offers us the opportunity week after week to practice the spirit of gratitude to those who minister to us to help us create this brave space in this place of deeper community. And so, for a moment, we pause to offer gratitude to those who were part of our community and reached out to help us make a difference to each other in the larger world. We are grateful that Lois Evanson is our lay minister. We thank our greeter, Mary Ann Newman and our usher Samuel Bates and Elizabeth Barrett. We are deeply grateful that in the service of hospitality, Gene Hills was the preparer of our coffee and our flowers today were offered by Heidi Wilde. There are some opportunities that we want to let you know about today. After the service this afternoon at 2 p.m., the value of a third space a lecture will be presented by the founder and CEO of infamous mother's sagacious T. Levingston. The book event will be held in the atrium auditorium and there will be a signing and light refreshments afterwards. The event is free and open to the public. Donations, however, will be accepted for the organization Infamous Mothers. Ms. Levingston's talk will focus on the importance of rethinking space in place as we work for racial justice. So again, that's today at 2 p.m. right here. We have begun our journey circles but there still is an opportunity for you to find out what those are and to see if that's something in which you can participate. For the last two months I have been engaging quite a few of you now almost 70 and asking you what it is that you find deeply meaningful that has happened here that is in support of your values and your ideals and a majority of you have told me again and again that our small group ministries, our covenant circles and other gatherings, our chala circles have been a deep way that people have felt that their values and ideals have been embodied. Well, our journey circles are another version of those small group ministries and what makes this one distinctive is that these small groups gather to talk together about our monthly themes and so it grounds those groups even more deeply in the work that we are trying to do together as a larger community. So if you are new to our community if you are feeling more distant, this is an opportunity for you to connect more deeply. Please stop by the commons area and find out more about our journey circles and see if that's something that you may be a part of. As we move into the cares of the congregation so that we might prepare our bodies and spirits for that to be a more meaningful time, I invite you to find a way of being in your chair that feels open and grounded that your feet connect you deeply to the earth itself the ground of all being and for just a moment to let breath be your guide being present here and now as you breathe in bring mindful awareness to where you feel that breath most clearly and let that be a guide that reminds you that this moment this time is the only real place that we can ground any important work that we can be present to any real meaning and as you release that breath back to the planet itself it is a gift that reminds you of your own life and the gift you may bring and so we are reminded as we gather week after week that we come to this place each with joys and sorrows in our own lives and deeply connected to those around us who carry their own celebrations and difficulties and so for a moment together we remember as breath continues to bring you here may you remember your own life and for a moment honor and celebrate and remember what is important to you now and with the next breath let it carry you further to your connection to the people around you to those you love to those you do not even yet know and hold their joys and concerns known and unknown in a moment of deep connection this week in particular extra thoughts and prayers for all those imprisoned that they may find hope and deep connection we remember with joy and sadness the passing of Karen Klonglin who was a long time leader of the dance fellowship and brought much beauty and love we are grateful that there will be a gathering of her on November 3 at one o'clock at the attic angels place for all the ways that we are deeply connected that remind us that we are part of a larger web of life for all that is our life we give hope we hold each other in care we remember and we love for this and so much more we are deeply grateful amen and blessed be may we rise in all of the ways that we do and join our voices together as we sing number 121 we'll build a land build a land where we find up the broken we'll build a land where the captives go free where the oil of gladness dissolves all morning all with land that can anointed by and we'll give them garlands instead of ashes all withsters and brothers anointed by we're just peace like an ant we'll land building up ancient cities raising up nations from old restoring ruins of generations all withsters and brothers anointed by gods we're just build a land where the mantles of praises resound from spirits once maint and once we're like oaks of righteous standard people all land our land my people we see come build a land where sisters and brothers anointed by god we're just peace like an ant I pray this day for the courage to be humble in the face of inequity and pain to know that the power has been given to me to make a difference I pray for the courage of endurance to keep acting in the midst of despair to keep trying in the aftermath of failure to keep hoping in the emptiness that follows loss or change may courage give us patience and may we ever know love's healing presence at the heart and center of our days we extinguish this endless flame but its light lives on in the minds and the hearts and the souls of each one of us let us carry the flame with us and share it with those we know with those we love and most especially with those we have yet to meet blessed be go in peace and please be seated for the postlude