 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'm very happy to extend a special welcome to everyone here, including any visitors who may be with us this morning. We are a welcoming congregation, so whoever you are and wherever you may be on your life's journey, we celebrate your presence among us. We trust that the spoken word and spirited music we share today will touch your heart, stimulate your mind, and stir your spirit. We will now sound the gong, leading us into a time of silence as we catch up with ourselves, slow down and breathe, and come fully into this time together. Please rise. Please remain standing for the opening words and the chalice lighting. As we gather here this morning, may we take the time to recognize and to affirm the pieces of possibility, the elements of goodness and beauty that we have brought here with us. From our individual gifts, we create a multi-hued patchwork, a fabric richly blue with sensitivity and understanding, crimson with creativity, white with the heat of strong conviction, green with the delicacy of new growth, and golden with the glow of love. Each of us is beautiful, invaluable, and together in all of our glorious diversity, we are a wonder to behold. It is good to be who we are, and it's good to be on this journey together. I invite you to join with me now in reading the words of affirmation printed in your program. May we each bring our best selves to this celebration, our ideals, dreams, and noble aspirations. May the flame we kindle symbolize our desire for committed, compassionate, and constructive lives. May this gathered community inspire us to pursue life's worthiest goals. And now I would invite you to turn to your neighbor exchange with him or her warm greeting. Please be seated. And now we ask a blessing for these flowers with the words of Norbert Choppec, the creator of the flower ceremony. Infinite spirit of life. We ask thy blessing on these messengers of fellowship and love. May they remind us amid diversities of knowledge and gifts to be one in desire and affection and devotion to compassionate living. May they also remind us of the need for sharing, for cooperation and peace in our common quest for understanding. May we cherish friendship and community as one of life's most precious gifts. May we not let awareness of another's talents discourage or separate us. May we realize that the efforts of all of us, the goodwill of all of us, are needed to heal and transform our troubled world. May we be strengthened by the knowledge that one spirit, the spirit of love unites us. And may we endeavor together for a more joyful life for all. Amen. And I invite anyone who'd like to come forward for our story to come on up. You can get closer to the flowers. I'm just gonna sit here for the rest of the service. Hello, are you still happy? No, Dante. Lula, you got a flower. Well, it's good that Lula brought a rose up here because our story today is called Wanda's Roses. Yeah, Dante knows it. He heard it at the nine o'clock service, right? You guys heard it. Yeah, our choir gets to hear it twice. So one morning in May on the way to school, a girl named Wanda noticed a bush growing in the empty corner lot at Fillmore and Hudson streets. It must have been growing for a while because it was about two feet tall. And Wanda was surprised she hadn't noticed it before. But there it was, bare and thorny. And Wanda, who loved beautiful things, felt her heart beat faster. A rose bush, my very own rose bush. Now the rose bush didn't really belong to Wanda, but since nobody seemed to own the lot or the heaps of junk that were piled there, she decided she would care for the bush and make it her own. All during school, she thought about her rose bush. During art, she drew pictures of what she thought it would look like in bloom. During libraries, she borrowed books on arranging flowers. And during science, she asked so many questions about how to care for it that finally her teacher told her she really had to stop asking questions about roses and start thinking about electricity, which was what the lesson was about. After school, she rushed to the rose bush. It was still bare and thorny. Maybe it needs more sun, thought Wanda. So she put down her bag and began dragging some of the nearby trash out to the curb. Mrs. Turner, who was on her way to the store, stopped to help her move a broken chair. Are you cleaning up the neighborhood, Wanda? That's a nice project. Oh, I'm not just cleaning, Wanda said. I'm helping my rose bush get sun so it'll bloom. Your rose bush? What rose bush? Over there, Wanda said, pointing very proudly to the bare thorny bush. Oh, Wanda, I'm not sure that's a rose bush. Sure it is. I've seen rose bushes in books and this is what they look like before they bloom. You just wait. In a few weeks, this lot will be full of roses. Well, perhaps, said Mrs. Turner. Good luck, Wanda. And as she walked away, she thought to herself, if that is a rose bush, then I am the queen of England. The next day after school, Wanda hurried to the rose bush. It was still bare and thorny. Maybe it needs more air, she thought. So she put down her bag and began taking more trash out to the curb. Once I get all this trash out of here, nothing's gonna block the air from getting to my rose bush. Now, Mr. Claudel was on his way home from work and he saw her trying to drag an old door so he stopped to help. Are you cleaning up the neighborhood, Wanda? Not just cleaning, I'm getting rid of the trash so my rose bush gets more air. A rose bush here? So Wanda showed him the bush. I don't know much about gardening, Wanda, but I really don't think that's a rose bush. Sure it is, she said. And in a few weeks, this lot will be filled with the sweetest smelling roses you ever saw. She thanked Mr. Claudel for his help and went off to drag away some more trash. Mr. Claudel shook his head, if that is a rose bush, then I am the king of France. Now, every day after school that week and the next Wanda went to the empty lot, Mrs. Gimani, who lived next door, gave her trash bags for the old shoes and the bottles and the broken toys, all of the things she was picking up. You have done a great job cleaning up this lot, Wanda. I'm not just cleaning, she said, I gotta get rid of the trash so my rose bush will get sun and air and it can bloom. Rose bush? What rose bush? So Wanda showed her, she put her hand on Wanda's shoulder and said, Wanda, this is not a rose bush. Oh, but it is, said Wanda. And in a few weeks, this lot will be filled with the most beautiful roses you've ever seen. That would be nice, but I don't want you to be disappointed. Don't worry, Mrs. Gimani, I won't be. Now, the next week when the rose bush still wasn't blooming, Wanda talked to her school librarian. I need books about getting roses to bloom. Do you have a rose bush, Wanda? Ms. Jones asked. Yeah, but it doesn't have flowers yet, it has sun and air, does it have water? Oh, water, she said, of course, that'll make it bloom. So that afternoon, she hurried to the rose bush, it was still bare and thorny, but she noticed the dry ground. Don't worry, little rose bush, I'm gonna get some water and you'll be able to grow flowers. So she went to the butcher shop across the street and asked Mr. Sanchez if she could have water. Rose bush? Rose bush, is that what I see you taking care of over there? Are you sure that's a rose bush? Oh, yes, I am sure. But it can't bloom because it needs water. So he gave her a plastic bucket full of water. I hope that really is a rose bush, Wanda. You'll see in that few weeks, there's whole lots gonna be full of roses. As Wanda carried the water away, Mr. Sanchez muttered in a few weeks, that thorn bush is gonna be a thorn bush. Now every day, Wanda ran to the rose bush after school and every day it was bare and thorny. She watered it and sang to it and checked its branches for flowers. Mr. Claudel on his way home stopped to see. Mrs. Turner on her way to the butcher shop stopped to see. Mrs. Giamani, seeing Wanda in the lot, called down and said, are there any roses? And when Wanda went to the library at school, Ms. Jones asked, are there any roses? To everybody, she said the same thing, just you wait. Pretty soon this whole lot's gonna be full of roses. And then one day in June, she had an idea. Looking at the bare thorny bush, she said, if my rose bush won't give roses to me, I'm gonna give roses to my rose bush. And when she saw all her neighbors, she gave each of them an invitation that said, please come for tea and muffins and Wanda's rose garden Saturday morning at nine. Oh dear, said Mrs. Turner. Oh no, said Mr. Claudel. Oh my, said Mrs. Giamani. Ah, shoot, said Mr. Sanchez. Oh good, said Ms. Jones, who was the only one who had not seen the bush for herself. I will bring the muffins. So the night before the tea party, everyone was very busy. The next morning at nine, everyone was surprised to see Wanda's rose bush covered in roses. Paper roses that Wanda had made herself and carefully tied to every bare thorny branch. But more surprising yet, everyone who came to the party had brought along a rose bush to plant near Wanda's, except Ms. Jones, who brought delicious blueberry muffins. After they had eaten their muffins and drunk their tea, they all got busy planting rose bushes. They dug holes and held them in place and filled in the roots with soil. And Mr. Sanchez kept getting more and more water from his shop. When the work was finished, Mr. Claudel said, Wanda, this is gonna be a rose garden fit for a king. Or a queen, said Mrs. Turner. And later that summer, the whole lot was filled with the biggest, most beautiful, sweetest smelling roses that anyone had ever seen, just as Wanda had always said it would be. So we're gonna stay right here and listen to the choir sing. And when they are done, you can head off to class. I'm from a gentleman who may not be familiar to some of the younger folks in the audience. Adelie Stevenson was the governor of Illinois. He ran for president on the Democratic ticket twice in the 1950s, losing both times to Dwight D. Eisenhower. And in the Kennedy administration, he served as our representative to the United Nations. He was a Unitarian from Bloomington, Illinois. These are his words. I think that one of our most important tasks as Unitarians is to convince ourselves, to convince others that there is nothing to fear in difference. That difference is, in fact, one of the healthiest, one of the most invigorating of human characteristics without which life would become lifeless. Here lies the power of the liberal way, not in making the whole world Unitarian, but in helping ourselves and others to see some of the possibilities inherent in viewpoints other than one's own. In encouraging the free exchange of ideas, in welcoming fresh approaches to the problems of life. It urges the fullest, most vigorous use of critical self-examination, and thus we can learn to grow together, to unite in our common search for the key to creating a better and a happier world. The second reading in a similar vein is from my colleague from New York, Richard Gilbert, served our congregation in Rochester, New York for many years. We are all more human than otherwise. The human race, white and black, red, yellow, brown, a vast rainbow bursting into view, and yet for all of us, blood is red, the sky is blue, the earth is brown, and the night is dark. We are all more human than otherwise. In size and in shape, a varied assortment of tall and short, slim and stout, fine and coarse featured. And yet for all of us, there are fingers to touch and hearts to break, eyes to cry, ears to hear, mouths to speak. Our tongues are many, a great tower of babble, a jumble of voices grasping for words, groping for ways to say, peace, love, pity, hope. We are more human than otherwise. Fates compete, claiming the one true way. Saviors abound, pointing toward salvation. Not all of them can be right, not just one. They unify only in the urge to keep on searching. Boundaries divide us, lines are drawn to demarcate our diversity, maps are charted to separate the human race from itself. And yet a mother's cry, a father's love, a child's happy babbling, a musician's sound, an artist's stroke, all of these batter the boundaries and shattered the walls dividing us. Strength and weakness, arrogance and humility, confidence and fear live together in each one, reminding us of our freedom and our finitude because these we share in our common humanity. We are all more human than otherwise. I invite you to join me now in the spirit of meditation. Coming through these doors this morning and into this inspiring, light-filled space, a few of us are here for the first time. For others, this is a return visit. While for most, the meeting house is familiar enough to feel like an old friend. But why are we all here? Why on this mild May morning did any of us opt for this particular place and this experience? Well, it's not because we all worship the same God or honor the same prophets or observe the same solemnities, it's not because we are inspired by the same myths, the same legends. In outlook and in predilection, we are indeed a mixed spiritual bag of pietistical polyglot. So among us, you will find metaphysicians and materialists, mystical seekers as well as hard-nosed scientists, folks who like their sermons straight up and others who appreciate a little more liturgy. And yet for all of that, we are a community, one body of unsettled souls who, oddly enough, do feel a kinship with one another. So what's the attraction? What draws us, like barnyard cats to the dinner bell, into this charmed circle of support and friendship? If it is not a common creed, it is at least a common need. The need to meditate upon life's mysteries, to learn to accept its tragedies, to recognize and to praise its glories and to come to grips with its inequities. It was not to venerate the one true God. It was not to practice the one true religion that brought us here today. It was to find others who, like us, are muddling through this one true life and who yearn to feel a little less lost, a little less confused, and not quite so spiritually isolated. Come, come, whoever you are. Come and experience this communion of free souls. Come, yet again, come. In the spirit of those closing lines, I invite you now to turn to him, number 188. Come, come, whoever you are. And we will sing this as around. This first time, we'll sing it all together. And three more times, we'll sing it in two parts, with this half of the auditorium being part one, and this half being part two. Please rise. So Flower Communion is an annual celebration unique, as far as I know, to our own faith tradition. And it's not a terribly old convention, dating back, perhaps, to the 1930s. And it didn't really come into vogue as part of standard UU practices until about the 1970s. But because it does give colorful expression to the spirit of inclusion, it aligns perfectly with the sentiments of both the third of our seven principles and also our FUS bond of union. Now for its part, the third principle of unitary universalism enjoins us to accept one another and to offer encouragement to further spiritual growth within our community. And the bond of union, composed and adopted in 1879, that obliges us to invite into membership those of whatever theological opinion who wish to unite with us in the promotion of truth, righteousness, reverence, and charity for all. And in both of these declarations, the operative concept is acceptance. Unitary universalism holds that it is possible for people to enjoy genuine religious community despite the absence of doctrinal conformity. Or as the 16th century Transylvanian Unitarian, Francis David, is reputed to have said, we need not think alike to love alike. The scope of our theological welcome has expanded over the centuries. You know, originally, it only applied to those within the Christian orbit, the Christian communion. Early on, unitarians and universalists astute creedal tests for membership in favor of the sanctity of the individual conscience, but it was assumed that our congregations would be comprised exclusively of professing Christians. And those who fell outside of that parameter were, in fact, excludable. And that began to change, however, as some rather prominent 19th century unitarians aligned themselves with the American romantic movement, also known as transcendentalism. And so we had these open-minded original thinkers like Ralph Waldo Emerson and Margaret Fuller who were favorably impressed when they were exposed to them of the wisdom teachings that were contained in these newly translated texts from Buddhism and Hinduism. These ought to be incorporated into our Unitarian faith, they believed. Now, while the more traditional Unitarian and universalist elites scoffed at the notion that such foreign ideas had any place in our movement, history was, in fact, on the side of Ralph Waldo Emerson. And once the camel had stuck its nose under the tent, there was nothing to keep it from crawling all the way in. In the wake of Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species, some broached the possibility of a non-metaphysical religion, a religion founded on ethics friendly to science and in which the supreme being was dispensable. Again, it took some time for this new naturalistic humanism to gain acceptance. But by the 1930s, one of Universalism's most prominent spokesman, Clarence Skinner from Tufts University, had this to say. Universalism, he wrote, is the largest thought that the world has ever known. It's the most revolutionary doctrine that's ever been proclaimed. It's the most expansive hope that's ever been dreamed. Henceforth, he said, our minds shall become more inclusive, our spirits more democratic, our intuitions more cosmic. Larger views of life shall make the prison house of ancient creeds become abhorrent. Now this trend toward a more comprehensive and inclusionary spiritual fellowship has continued as people harboring an earth-centered perspective, pagans, wickens, deep ecologists, have also been welcomed into the fold. But nevertheless, Unitarianism is not, and it cannot be, all things to all people. And there always will be those for whom this is not going to be a comfortable fit. So in thinking about that, when thinking about who's in and who's out, it may be helpful to highlight the differences between two historical expressions of universalism, the Hellenic and the Roman. Now after Alexander the Great had conquered much of the Near Eastern and the Mediterranean world, his successors took on the project of Hellenizing the people that they now controlled. And in putting into effect a policy of cultural imperialism, these rulers sought to impose Greek beliefs, Greek manners, the Greek language, Greek mores onto their newly won subjects. So in this case, universalism stood for the creation of a virtual monoculture in which unwanted elements were slowly and steadily weeded out. And in much the same sense, the Roman Catholic Church has historically tried to put a universal stamp on its doctrines, a long succession of popes and councils insisted that this was the only true religion outside of which redemption simply was not possible. And the church's ongoing campaign to achieve worldwide hegemony through crusades and through missionary efforts, that was another manifestation of what I call imperialistic universalism. By contrast, Roman universalism, that allowed for religious and cultural differences. As they built an empire, the Romans expected obedience, they expected tribute from their vassal states, but with rare exceptions, and unless they smelled disloyalty, the Romans followed a policy of live and let live. People were allowed to retain their culture, their gods, their ways of worship. The Romans having correctly surmised that this would lessen the possibility of insurrection. There is an inherent tension between these two flavors of universalism. And although the parallel isn't quite precise, it does help to explain why our contemporary unitary universalist movement cannot accommodate those for whom a pluralistic religious culture is anathema. So, folks who argued that the United States was founded as a Christian nation and must become one again, those who disparage Islam as an incorrigible, jihadist faith, those who equate pagans and wickens with devil worshipers, those who dismiss historical and scientific scholarship while insisting that the Bible is a font of irrefutable truth. These are all expressions of imperialistic universalism and as such, they are essentially incompatible with the universalist principles that we espouse. As the universalist poet Edward Markham put it, he drew a circle that shut me out, heretic, a rebel, a thing to flout. But love and I, we had the wit to win. We drew a circle that took him in. It's also important to note here that both unitarian universalism's third principle and our society's bond of union contain certain qualifiers as to what and whom we can accommodate. Now the first of these statements reminds us that all of us, none of us have the answers and that therefore all of us and each of us must be open to the possibility of further spiritual growth. In the words of one of our classic hymns, revelation is not sealed. Truth and right are still revealed. And so knowing that we have much to learn from each other, we welcome diversity as the gift that keeps on giving. And because they don't entertain any doctrinal doubts, diversity hardly commends itself. The diversity that we celebrate hardly commends itself to those imperialistic universalists. Now that being said, it's important to point out that the third principle, like the other six, is not meant as a description of our lived reality, which is always going to be less than perfect. It is better understood as an aspirational statement that calls upon us to be aware of our biases in touch with our resistance. It is a call for mindfulness, honesty, and a good faith effort to be more open and more accepting than we already are. Now the bond of union also contains a conditional clause, limiting those who would unite with us to people who are willing to promote truth, righteousness, reverence, and charity for all. There are, needless to say, people whose views do not square with that agenda. They are convinced that some are more deserving of consideration than others. And they are convinced that reverence and charity are to be reserved for the chosen few. So in other words, the implied egalitarianism of the bond of union isn't always consistent with what some think that religion should properly be and what it should do. Now this spirit of inclusiveness that I've been describing has informed our lives in ways other than the theological. Because very early on, unitarian universalism adopted resolutions that supported gay and lesbian and transgendered people and welcomed them into our congregations and into the ranks of our clergy. FUS officially became a welcoming congregation a quarter of a century ago, and we adopted that position because it is consistent with our first principle that affirms the inherent dignity and worth of all people irregardless, but also we take that position because we do not take the Bible's scurrilous statements about same-sex relationships at face value. Given the foregoing, is it conceivable that unitarian universalism could be an agent of reconciliation in this deeply divided culture of ours? The answer to that, I'm afraid, is mixed. Despite the emphasis that we have historically placed on diversity in certain respects, we all know this, unitarian universalism resembles a monoculture. We are solidly middle-class. Our congregations are comprised primarily of white, well-educated knowledge workers. And as our intern, T.K. Browning, pointed out several weeks ago, surveys indicate that 92% of adult unitarian universalists vote the Democratic ticket. So are we part of the solution? Or are we part of the problem? Nine out of 10 unitarian universalists probably voted for someone other than Donald Trump in the last presidential election, while a comparable percentage of evangelical Christians did precisely the opposite. Now, unitarian universalist clergy gladly performed same-sex weddings, while evangelical county clerks refused to issue marriage licenses to the same couples. We generally support the Black Lives Matter movement, while those holding more conservative religious views tend to be sympathetic to law enforcement. We wring our hands over global climate change, while the more devout insist that the weather is nobody's business but God's. So in terms of some of these hot-button issues that we as Americans are currently grappling with, we're not exactly a neutral party, are we? So what would we bring to the table that might make it easier to communicate across this great and growing divide? Well, to answer that question, we first have to allow that it takes at least two willing agents to have a constructive conversation, both of whom must position themselves to be able to listen as well as to declare themselves. And too often in recent times, that has not been possible. You know what? Some people have assigned the blame for that to folks like us. Indeed, ever since the 2016 election, numerous commentators have suggested that progressives should be doing more to engage those angry, alienated, disillusioned voters who made Donald Trump their choice. There's probably a certain amount of truth to that, and yet it doesn't tell the whole story. Shortly after the presidential election, Amanda Marcotte, who was a columnist for the online journal Salon, she events some frustration with that kind of logic. And she did allow that more communication across these partisan lines would indeed be a good thing. But then she said, you know, such efforts are almost always one-sided. Liberals are instructed to reach out to conservatism to practice empathy for them. And the irony of all this is that the reason that the pundits ask liberals and not conservatives is because liberals are more likely to listen. Now, while liberals do say nasty things about conservatives, the level of dehumanization, she writes, that goes the other way simply is not there. Decades of right-wing media have taught its audience that liberals are subhuman scum. And that hating liberals is far more important than those minor concerns like preventing war or economic destruction. A little hyperbole perhaps. Her indignation is obvious. And yet I don't think that Marcotte's argument and her charges fly that far from the mark. So consider again, the unshakable popularity that Donald Trump enjoys among conservative Christians. What would it take we often ask ourselves for these folks to question their commitment to this decidedly un-Christian character? And for many, the answer is nothing. Because they firmly believe that the president is God's anointed. And that for all of his imperfections, he is the instrument that the good Lord has chosen to fulfill his divine agenda. By contrast, Mr. Trump's predecessor in the White House, he was routinely labeled by these same people as the Antichrist. Despite Obama's unsullied scandal-free private life. Because these are individuals whose convictions are grounded in a Manichaean mindset that sorts people out between the sheep and the goats, the saved and the damned, the agents of darkness, and the apostles of light. And one can make overtures to such people, but you are unlikely to get very far. I should know, I have some in my own family, as I'm sure some of you do as well. As Parker Palmer notes in his book, Healing the Heart of Democracy, there are these people on the far right and on the far left who cannot join in a creative dialogue about our differences. But then Parker goes on to say, if we leave aside the untouchable dogmatists, there's still 60 to 70% of the population who could be engaged in a productive conversation given the right conditions. And as Unitarian Universalists, I think I believe that we are attitudinally well positioned to undertake this kind of work, at least among those who have not already written us off as lost souls. So what have we got going for us in this regard? Curiosity for one thing. A contemporary Unitarian Universalist, him, ends with the line to question truly is an answer. And because our faith tradition is informed and is guided by a questing, questioning spirit, rather than by a body of unalterable truths, we are able to entertain a wider variety of viewpoints than the average religious folk. Most of the Unitarian Universalists I know are genuinely curious about how and why people think the way they do. Like everybody else, we have our biases. But I have come to believe that we are generally able to recognize them as such, as biases, rather than objective truths. And Unitarian Universalists also manifest a higher level of ambiguity than the average person. As our late music director, Ellsworth Snyder, was fond of putting it, life is not simple. And indeed it's not. And this recognition of life's inherent contradictions, of all of its messiness, that makes it possible for us to listen more closely and more respectfully to opposing viewpoints. The fact is that Unitarian Universalists have over time become steadily more inclusive. And that attests to the spirit of questioning and of openness and of curiosity. And then second and finally, as a movement that is grounded in democratic processes and principles, we understand the need for compromise. We do not believe that life is a zero sum game. We do not believe it's a winner take all contest in which the losing party is vanquished by the triumphant monopolizing victors. Too often today, that whole notion of the loyal opposition that is so critical to a healthy civic culture, to a well functioning democracy, that has gone by the boards. It has given way to this no holds barred struggle in which no quarter is either expected or given. My experience has been that Unitarian Universalists are generally pretty good losers and pretty gracious winners. Now we may rue the outcome of any particular election or a policy debate, but we are not willing to upset the democratic apple cart in order to get our own way. By contrast, in October 2016, Trump surrogate Roger Stone warned that there will be a blood bath if the democrats steal this election. For convicted partisans like Roger Stone, winning is all that matters, even at the cost of our precious but precarious democratic heritage. We don't wanna go that route. So rather than throw down the gauntlet or going in the company of our ideological opposites, let's see what it feels like to invite a conversation. Demonstrate to others that we are indeed a curious people and perhaps even persuadable. It's not the easiest thing to do, but it probably is the right thing to do because as my late colleague Forest Church put it, I define the word sin simply. It is anything that divides us within ourselves, between ourselves, from the ground of being itself. So salvation then is about reconciliation. It is that rare, blessed moment when we make full peace with ourselves and full peace with our neighbors, may it be so. We gather each week as a community of memory and of hope. To this time and this place, we bring our whole and sometimes our broken cells. We carry with us the joys and the sorrows of the recent past, seeking here a place where these might be received and celebrated and shared. So we would pause now to acknowledge the passing of Bill Hackton, age 93. He had been suffering from a heart condition for a number of years. He was a professor in the journalism school at the UW for many, many years and a member of First Unitarian Society for many years as well. There will be a memorial service for Bill at the Oakwood West Chapel on the 29th of May at 1.30 in the afternoon. A couple of weeks ago, we announced the passing of Karen Richardson for many years, a member here and a member of our Society Choir. Her memorial service will be this coming Sunday, a week from today, from two to five, and I believe in this auditorium. So in addition to those two just mentioned, we would acknowledge any unspoken joys or sorrows that remain among us. As a community of concern and caring, we hold these in our hearts as well. And now it is time for the giving and the receiving we're offering and your gifts in their entirety will go to our partner church program. Please be generous. As we appreciate your monetary gifts this morning, we appreciate all those who gave of their time. Our sound operator is Mark Schultz. Our lay minister and smiley, our greeter was Joan Heitman. Usher's, Karen Jager, Ron Cook, Tom Dolmage. In the kitchen with our food haulers preparing lunch for the parish meeting today, making the coffee, Jeannie Hills and Richard DeVita. We have one special announcement and that is that TK Browning will be ending his internship with us next weekend. And in June we will celebrate Michael Schuler's retirement. We're gathering farewell messages for Michael and Trina and for TK and his family in the commons after the service. There's more information in your red floors. And if you will now rise in body or in spirit for our closing hymn, number 78, please be seated. Now as we prepare to leave this place, I invite you into our flower communion. Take one of those flowers. If by chance you didn't bring one with you, take one anyway here we believe in abundance. Take a different one than the one you brought. Take a flower as a symbol of gratitude for beauty we did not create, for blessings we do not deserve, for joys which come unexpected. Enter with joyful hearts into this communion of flowers. It has taken long months beneath cold ground for these flowers to prepare their blooming. It has taken each of us long times of growth through sorrow and joy to prepare for our living now. The blooming season is short. Therefore let our moments be bountiful. Let us celebrate together in love that as we travel away we take with us the memory of golden hours together here among the flowers. And our closing words are from Walt Whitman. My spirit has passed in compassion and determination around the whole earth. I have looked for equals and lovers and found them ready for me in all lands. I think some divine rapport has equalized me with them. I see cities of the earth and make myself a random part of them. I see ranks, colors, civilizations. I go among them, I mix indiscriminately and I salute all the inhabitants of the earth. Our time in service together here is ending and our service to the world begins again.