 And it says, for example, Jim, an active woman who lives in a room now, I've got the chair presenting, you sound wrong, if you don't have it, you have the steps and you have to sit down. That's what I'm going to do for now. I'm going to put on the chair next to you. Yeah. But you don't have to use the chair. I don't have to use the chair. I don't have to use the chair. I don't have to use the chair. I'm going to put on the chair next to you. I'm going to put on the chair next to you. I'm going to put on the chair next to you. 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 Jim O'Brien. And on behalf of the congregation, I would like to extend a special welcome to visitors. Do we have any visitors here? Well, welcome. And we hope people give you the bum's rush right after the service. I will if nobody else does. We also welcome the regular attendees who are with us this morning. And as we say, we are trying to be a welcoming congregation. So whoever you are and wherever you are on your life's journey, we celebrate your presence among us. We are so very glad you're here. I invite you to join me now in a few moments of centering silence for contemplation, meditation, prayer, as we settle into and come fully into this place and time together. In 123, please stand as you're able and willing. One of my favorite Unitarian poets, Mae Sartin, come out of the dark earth here where the minerals glow in their stone cells deeper than seed or birth. Come into the pure air above all heaviness of storms and clouds to this light-possessed atmosphere. Come into, out of, under the earth, the wave, the air. Love touches everywhere with primeval candor. And now, if Jim will come up and help, we'll light the chalice and if you will rise in body or spirit and read with me this brief chalice lighting. Each morning we must hold out the chalice of our being to receive, to carry and to give back. And now please turn to your neighbor with a friendly welcome. Thanks. Are there any children of any age who would like to come up for a great story? This is a beautiful one. It's a brand new book that I found and I love it. Most of you adults will remember the story of Malala, but most of you little folks won't. You won't for sure. Do we have something up there? This is the book. It's called Malala's Magic Pencil. There it is. The illustrations in this are beautiful as well. Do you believe in magic? Good. I do too. And this is spoken in her voice about when she was a young child. When I was younger, I used to watch a TV show about a boy who had a magic pencil. If he was hungry, he drew a bowl of curry and it appeared. If he and his friends were in danger, he drew a police officer. The boy was a little hero, always protecting people who needed them. There he is on the television. If I had a magic pencil, I would use it to put a lock on my door so my brothers couldn't bother me. Stop time so I could sleep an extra hour every morning. Erase the smell of the trash dump near our house. And I would use it to make other people happy. I would draw the most beautiful dresses in the world for my mother. The best buildings in the valley for my father so he could open many schools where children would study for free. A proper ball so my brothers and I no longer had to play with an old stick. Oh sorry, an old sock stuffed with rubbish. Every night before I went to bed, I wished for a magic pencil of my own. And every morning I would wake up and check my cupboard, but the magic pencil was never there. One day I was throwing away potato peels and eggshells at the dump. I was wrinkling my nose, swatting away flies and making sure I didn't step on anything dirty in my nice shoes. When I saw a girl about my age sorting trash into piles. Nearby boys were fishing for metal scraps using magnets on strings. When my father returned home from work I told him what I'd seen. It made him sad. Abba, I said, yes Janney, he said back. I always liked when he called me dear one. Why haven't I seen that girl in my class? Because he said, but he didn't finish right away. Because Janney in our country not everyone sends their daughters to school. And some children must work to support their families. Those boys will sell the metal scraps that they find at the dump. If they went to school their families would go hungry. School was my favorite place, but I had never considered myself lucky to be able to go. My father had always said, Malala will live free as a bird. Now I wondered how free I'd really turn out to be. That night I thought about families who didn't have enough food. And the girl who couldn't go to school. And even about how when I was older I would be expected to cook and clean for my brothers because where I came from many girls weren't allowed to become what they might have dreamed of. I knew then that if I had the magic pencil I would use it to draw a better world. A peaceful world. First I would erase war, poverty and hunger. Nice idea. Then I would draw girls and boys together as equals. Over the next few years instead of wishing for a magic pencil every night I worked hard in school every day. I wanted to be one of the top students in my class. And there she is in her class. But soon powerful and dangerous men declared that girls were forbidden from attending school. They walked the streets of our city now. They carried weapons. That must have been scary. One by one girls stopped coming to school. But where are all the students? They don't feel safe here anymore, Johnny. How could a few men stop all the girls in our valley from going to school? If more people knew what was happening to us I thought they might help. Wishing wasn't enough. Someone had to speak out. Why not me? I wrote about what it felt like to be scared to walk to school and how some of my friends had moved away because of the threat they faced in our city. I wrote about how much I loved school and how proud I was of my uniform. Once I started writing I didn't stop. I wrote speeches and traveled around my country sharing my story. I even talked to a reporter from a famous international newspaper. People actually wanted to hear about my life. I spoke for all the girls in my valley who couldn't speak for themselves. Wow, that was brave and she was still young. My voice became so powerful that the dangerous men tried to silence me. But they failed. Thank goodness. And now my voice is louder than ever. Louder because people have joined me. And together we make a chorus standing up for what we believe. We raise our voices for those in need. Help people in danger even if they are an ocean away. Think of the world as a family. Do you believe in magic? I do. I wrote alone in my room but people all over the world were reading my story. Millions now know it and help me spread my message of hope. I had at last found the magic I was looking for. In my words and in my work. I am Malala. I've always wished I could make the world a more peaceful place. And every day I work to make my wish come true. One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world. And she has helped to make changes. Okie doke, now we will sing you folks off to more exciting fun times. With the hymn. Oh, this little light of mine. I should remember that. I picked it out. I love it. And that is number 118. Let me see if I can grab my book. Readings from His Holiness, the Dalai Lama. The first on kindness. Having a heart and a kind and warm disposition is an enormous advantage. Not only does it bring us joy, but we can share this joy with others. Relations between individuals, nations and continents deteriorate only from lack of good will and kindness. Even though these qualities are so valuable and necessary for the quality of life in society. That is why it is worth trying to develop them and on ways of relating. Usually we classify people into one of three categories. Friends, enemies and strangers. On meeting them we adopt three types of attitude. Desire, aversion or indifference. As long as these three models of relating are predominant. It is impossible to give birth to an altruistic frame of mind. It is therefore important to neutralize attachment, hostility and indifference. And now a poem from Jane Goodall. Yes, a poem. Who knew? It's called The Old Wisdom. When the night wind makes the pine trees creak and the pale clouds glide across the dark sky, go out my child, go out and seek your soul, the eternal I. For all the grasses rustling at your feet and every flaming star that glitters high above you, close up and meet you in the eternal I. Yes, my child, go out into the world. Walk slow, walk silent, comprehending all. And by and by your soul, the universe will know itself, the eternal I. Content with small to seek. Can't rather talk gently. Thank you so much, Tamara. I was thrilled when I found that she would be singing for my service. It's like it's her service and I'm making a few comments. Thank you so much. Well, leaving a legacy. My goodness, that sounds burdensome, doesn't it? During this morning's remarks, I hope to break this concept down a bit into a less onerous and more user friendly process. This is important because as we must realize, we are indeed going to leave a legacy of some kind, one way or another. So why not approach this legacy building consciously and take part in its development? Until recently, I'd always thought of leaving a legacy as some kind of thing for later, something primarily related to disbursement of our funds and holdings after we pass. And while hopefully we do create a last will and testament sooner rather than later, that document may merely designate our heirs and in cases of large estates be intended to reduce conflict among them and perhaps avoid some tax liability for them. My point here is that our pre-planning is often designed more to avoid negatives than to enhance positives. And more to the point, once this legal document has been completed, we may think our legacy work is finished. On the other hand, the renowned American poet Emily Dickinson once wrote, My friends are my estate. Possibly implying she viewed her interpersonal relationships as more important than her poetry. Yet most of us would certainly think of the latter as her legacy. Nonetheless, most of our own legacies will lie somewhere between a large financial estate and the memories of our closest friends. I recently retired from my position with the Edgewood College Marriage and Family Therapy Program and set out on the great journey of creating my life as a semi-retired person. Earlier this spring when I discussed today's remarks with Michael Schuler, I'd had expected a few personal retirement references, but to focus primarily on my professional knowledge of the process of aging. After all, I'd studied gerontology since the mid-70s when I had no face validity whatsoever, until now when I have lots of face validity with my clients and pretty much everybody else. However, I've been learning many things over recent weeks, not the least among them that leaving a legacy, in fact, needs to start long before we've left. Excuse me. And this surely applies to leaving from anywhere. Leaving a career or leaving this life. So I've decided to focus today on the proactive process of consciously leaving a legacy, rather than on the characteristics of that phase of life wherein we commonly begin to think of our legacy. People in the field of aging use the term life review to describe how people of a certain age may begin to mentally describe, I'm sorry, describes people of a certain age when they may begin to mentally review their lifetimes, including how they may be remembered. This is not that. This is about the proactive process of creating our legacies. And I apologize for losing my place here. Today I tried to use smaller print than I usually do to save some space, but I have to go back up to like 22, because this is not working, it's all mushing together, so I'll try to be better. You folks in the room, under ages 40 to 50, I'm speaking to you when I ask, how do you want to be remembered? And how can you get to a place where you feel you may be remembered as you'd like to be? And I assure you folks over 50, it's never too late to consciously create a legacy. One which warms your heart and gives you summary assurance that those for whom you care will indeed remember you for what you hold most dear and values as the guiding principles of your life in this world. In fact, Sarah Lawrence Lightfoot at Harvard has described what she calls the third chapter, the years between 50 and 75. She says the folks she interviewed were on a search for meaning, for purposefulness in this pantaltumen chapter of their lives. We're living longer, the arc of our lives has changed enormously. We're not necessarily dying at 50, we are if we're lucky, living to 80, 85, 90. So this period I'm talking about offers us the opportunity and the challenge, she says, of doing something truly meaningful. In fact, she says this is perhaps the transformative time of our lives, the most exciting in terms of new learning, limitless in its opportunity. As you may imagine, this discussion appeals tremendously to me as a person of a certain age and it underscores the possibility of our creating a legacy far after earlier generations may have felt their lives and opportunities were actually over. Now some of us seem to avoid conscious consideration of legacy building during our younger years, thinking we have plenty of time and that our current obligations and responsibilities must always take precedent and sometimes they must. But even after retirement, we may avoid engaging in this conscious consideration using the excuse of all those post-retirement plans with family and friends, volunteer obligations, even part-time jobs. Unfortunately, unexpected illness or disability can sometimes move us quickly into the face of life review before we've even taken time to consider our legacies. Now I trust that most UUs, we who often wear our hearts and values on our sleeves, have shared our strongest concerns and priorities with our loved ones. Yet you'd be surprised the number of family members and friends who remark at wakes and memorial services, I had no idea he was a member of Phil in the Blank or I had no idea she cared so much about whatever. Don't let this happen to your loved ones. Make sure they know who you are and what you hold dear. What are most of us avoiding anyway by not taking time for conscious consideration of what is most important to us and therefore what our legacy will become? Well, perhaps we're avoiding things as simple as listening to ourselves. Tallying up our personal pros and cons, not judgmentally, but as objective assessments toward possible changes. Identifying whether we have regrets and whether they can or even should be addressed. Thinking about what truly does matter to us in our lives and taking steps to bring these things to the forefront by one means or another. For those of us who are not financially wealthy enough to simply write a check to leave our mark, yet hope to be impactful in how we live and what we eventually leave behind, what might become our legacy? Recognizing the fallacy, excuse me, recognizing the fallacy in the old yuppie saying whoever dies with the most stuff wins is another argument for making time for consideration. One of my very favorite stories in Brian Andreas' collection of story people books goes like this. What do I get for that? I said. And the angel gave me a catalog filled with toasters and clock radios and a basketball signed by Michael Jordan. And I said, but this is just stuff. And the angel smiled and folded me in her arms. I'm so glad you said that, she whispered to me. I knew you still had a chance. For those of you who feel you may need a bit of a jump start in identifying a possible legacy for yourself, you need go no farther than our FUS bond of union and mission statement, both of which call us to promote charity among all and support our seeking to be a force for good in the world. Thankfully, FUS offers us many service opportunities within our own faith community. And as I look around this auditorium, I see the faces of many people who are active in these programs, some whose names are even synonymous with the programs. Also, please remember our social justice coordinator, Tim Corden, continually offers numerous opportunities for service to the greater community, including conveniently our annual FUS service day coming up on Saturday, August 25th, and this afternoon's pride parade, which where I think a few of you at least are going right after the service. Our first principle, our first UU principle, the inherent worth and dignity of every person, guides us toward innumerable professional volunteer and personal responsibilities which enrich our community and even the world. In addition to financial contributions, like those many of you have generously given to FUS and other worthy nonprofits over the years, one's legacy may include gifts of vocational dedication to a cause, such as teaching, fair housing, or other social welfare projects, public service, such as serving as an elected official or a community-based board member, volunteer work, such as in a school, a senior center, or another nonprofit, and, importantly, caregiving for family and friends. Many people at FUS are building a legacy by lovingly caring for and supporting loved ones with debilitating disorders. In fact, you may actually be building a legacy right now without even being aware of the impact you are making in the lives of others. The quote from Jane Goodall on the front of our Order of Service indicates what she and many highly admired people have learned. Not only are their stories magnified, much as the old telephone game, until they are either made out to be saints or demons, but also I believe those of us who are not publicly renowned tend to downplay our own impact on others, tend to not recognize the legacies that we are indeed leaving. In everything good is simple. Nikki Giovanni sums up the kinds of everyday things that can inspire us when she writes, everything good is simple. A soft-boiled egg, toast fresh from the oven with a pat of butter swimming in the center, steam off a cup of black coffee, John Coltrane bringing me violets for my furs. Most simple things are good. Lines on a yellow legal pad, dimples defining a smile, a square of gray cashmere that can be a scarf, Miles Davis kind of blue. Some things clear are complicated, believing in religion, trying to be a good person, getting rid of folks who depress you, har a silver blow in the blues away. Complicated things can be clear. Dvorak's New World Symphony, Alvin Ailey's Revelations, Mae Jemisin's Ride in Space, and Mingus live at Carnegie Hall. All things good are good. Poetry, patience, a ripe tomato on the vine, a bat in flight, the new moon, me in your arms, things like that. While we often think of those who leave legacies as famous people, or people with substantial wealth, legacies are being built every day by otherwise regular people whose behaviors make them special in some way, special enough to have a profound effect on someone else. I want to tell you about my former boss, Don Warnke. He was an excellent supervisor, so much so that he was always encouraging me to think expansively, not only to develop new ideas for his agency, but also to expand my own professional development. After we'd worked together for several years, he encouraged me to attend the Franklin Covey training called What Matters Most. I cautioned him, you know, Don, it could cause me to want to leave you. And he said, I know, but you have to find out. So, off I went to this What Matters Most workshop, and there I was on the morning of September 11, 2001. We were all deeply shaken on that day, but as a result of the confluence of that workshop on that day, a personal paradigm shift began for me. And Don's legacy turned out to be my going back to school, to grad school becoming a therapist and extending my, hopefully, positive influence to hundreds of clients and students since that time. It also influenced me to become an FUSA minister, and this service truly feeds my soul. I see Don occasionally now and always try to remind him of his legacy for me. I think he gets it, and I trust we all get the legacies we are leaving. Before I close, I want to say, who knew Jane Goodall writes poetry or wrote poetry? Yet I learned she'd originally planned a major in literature until she was convinced to become a scientist. And where would we, not to mention chimpanzees and other vulnerable members of the interdependent web, be without her pioneering work in the forest and current international conservation and peace efforts on behalf of us all? Prior to my retirement from Edgewood, I'd often told my students and loved ones that I looked forward to someday more or less holding court, if you will, in a large overstuffed chair in my home where they would all visit to ask me for wise counsel and to, and this part is extremely important, bring me bonbons. So, so far this is not happening. Perhaps I had a foreshadowing of this in becoming a therapist, so I would never actually have to fully retire. In any case, I do plan to continue working on developing my legacy, as I find I'm not quite ready for those bonbons. English writer and socialite, Elizabeth Bebesco, wrote, Blessed are those who can give without remembering and take without forgetting. That sounds to me like an excellent legacy. Let it be so. Blessed be an amen. And now our ushers will please come forward, be generous as you are able in the giving of financial gifts. Thank you. And tell our story. Let it echo them here. How justice was our battle and how justice was denied. Make them hear you and say to those who blame us for the way we chose to fight that sometimes there are battles which are more my sword when justice was my right to your daughters and your sons. In addition to your generous financial gifts, we also appreciate and acknowledge the many gifts of service from those who are helping us make sure that things run smoothly this morning. As you know, our worship associate is Jim O'Brien. Our greeter was Patty Whitty. Our ushers are Nancy Daly, Brian Chanis, and Pamela I think. I'm sorry, somehow that didn't get written down on here. That's terrible, Pamela. Our sound operator is David Briles. Beverage hospitality is being provided by Terry Felton and Blaise Thompson. Our pulpit palms were tended to by John Twoes. Dorrit Bergen is staffing our welcome and info table, which is just outside the doors and to your left. Rose Detmer is our tour guide. If you would like a tour of this facility after the service today, please meet her up front, there by the ramp, by the front windows. And she will be happy to give you a tour. I don't have any announcements, other than the ones I made earlier and all the activities you might want to participate in. And you can check those out in the red floors. Insert in our order of service. And now, we join together each week, a community who gathers with joys and sorrows written on our hearts. In this place we love and are loved. We give and we receive in return. We come together to find strength and common purpose, turning our minds and hearts toward one another and seeking to bring into our circle of concern all who need our love and support. There were no entries in our concerns book for this service, but we certainly remember our country, which is wounded and bleeding to a certain extent. We also remember the family, friends and fans of Aretha Franklin, who passed this week and whom many of us will miss very much. We also remember all the joys and all the sorrows too tender to share that live in the fullness of our hearts. Please take a moment with me now to hold all these joys and sorrows and to remember that we are all part of a web of life that makes us one with humanity, one with all the universe. May we be grateful for the miracle of life that we share and the hope that gives us the power to care, to remember and to love. Blessed be, let's have a moment here. And now please stand in body or spirit for our closing hymn, 131, Love Will Guide Us. Please remain standing or being with us in spirit as I read the benediction and then we extinguish the chalice. This is from St. Francis, where hate rules let us bring love, where sorrow, joy. Let us strive more to comfort others than to be comforted, to understand others than to be understood, to love others more than to be loved. For it is in giving that we receive and in pardoning that we are pardoned. We extinguish this flame but not the light of truth, the warmth of community or the fire of commitment. These we carry in our hearts until we are together again. Go out and build your legacy. But first, please be seated for the poster. But it's exciting, but I've learned that is not most of your days. That's worth more than a plot, you see.