 Let's have a moment of centering silence. And now let's be musically present. The words are in your program. 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 Rob Savage. I'm president of the board of trustees here. And on behalf of the congregation, I would like to extend a special welcome to visitors. We are a welcoming congregation. So whoever you are and wherever you happen to be on your life journey, we celebrate your presence here. Newcomers are encouraged to stay for our fellowship hour after the service. And to visit the library, which is directly across from the center doors of the auditorium. Bring your drinks and questions. Members of our staff and lay ministry will be on hand to welcome you. You may also like for persons holding teal, stoneware mugs. These are FUS members knowledgeable about our faith community who would love to visit with you. Experienced guides are generally available to give building tour after each service. So if you'd like to learn more about our sustainably designed addition or our national landmark meeting house, please meet near the large glass windows over here immediately after the service. We welcome children to stay for the duration of the service. But if a child needs to move around or talk, the child haven or the commons are both good areas to hear and see the service. Speaking of quiet, I hope you've all turned your cell phones and other electronic devices off so that we can enjoy our service today. I'd like to acknowledge those folks who help us make our services possible. If you haven't already signed up for something to do like this, I would encourage you to try. It's really not very hard. If I can stand up here and talk, you could go back and help in the ushering or the sound system. It's really not very hard, and it's really important. So at any rate, OK. Sound operator, Dan and Rachel Bennett, lay minister, Anne Smiley. Greeter was Janine Nussbaum. Usher's are Shirley Inhorm, Stan Inhorm, and Anne Smiley. Hospitality, Mary Elizabeth Kunkel is out there. Helping with that is Jean Hill. Didn't wear my glasses up here, so I got to make sure I'm actually reading it correctly. And the flowers today are from Sandy Plish. We have two announcements, one of them that was given to me and one of which I gave to myself. In an effort to remind ourselves and others of the impact of continued racial violence in our society, we will make and hang flags on our lawn this week, each one with the name of a life lost. The equity ministry team has a list of names and materials. We invite your help. After services today, there will be a table where you can take a moment and add a name. The other announcement is that after this service, we have one of our parish meetings. The food hollers, as always, are serving us some good, healthy food. And we would really welcome your presence here to help us as we keep this place running. So enjoy the meeting. We gather here this morning as individual people, young and old, male, female, temporarily able, disabled, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, straight, atheist, atheist, agnostic, Christian, Buddhist, humanist, Jew. We gather, however, as a community of people who are more than categories. We gather here, each ministering to the other, meeting one another's strengths, encouraging greater wholeness. We give thanks for this extraordinary blessing, the gathering together of separate unique individuals as a whole, one company, one congregation, one spiritual body. Here may our minds be stretched, our hearts be opened, our souls rekindled. Here may we feel secure enough to acknowledge our brokenness and, at the same time, be stirred by love's endless possibilities. Please rise in body or in spirit for the lighting of our chalice. And I invite you to join your voices with mine in our words of affirmation. To be open to new truth, respectful of all opinion, patient with all people, this is our religion. To speak responsibly, to choose wisely, to act conscientiously, these are the marks of a mature faith. We come together seeking not only comfort and support, but the stimulus we need to become the best possible persons. And now I invite you to join your voices in song as we sing together hymn number 1031. And in the spirit of loving kindness, please turn now and extend a warm greeting to your neighbor in the spirit of meditation. We are now in the midst of autumn, a time of great beauty and of great busyness. Memories of mystery novels and swimming pools, they seem distant now. Life's pace has quickened. Its traffic has become more congested. The days rush forward as if they couldn't wait to get to winter. But it feels good to be engaged, to experience again that surge of autumn energy, and step lively to the rhythms of labor and learning and commerce. Vibrant colors, the cold prickly dawn, the clamor of migrating flocks, air saturated with the dusty smell of fallen leaves. The scene is set, the signs auspicious for meaningful work and spirited play. And in the midst of all this hubbub, the soccer games and the clearance sales, the furnace maintenance and the full gutters, may we remember that for some, this season is a distressing time, a time when tight budgets are strained by higher heating bills and the need for heavier clothing, when holiday shopping is an unexercised luxury. Those of us who have been blessed with good jobs and golden opportunities, who arise each day in hope and in expectancy, may we never become so consumed, so caught up in our own life issues and agendas that compassion and consideration is crowded out. May our busy beating hearts be open this season to all that is lovely and to all that still needs our love. Let us continue in a moment or two more of silence. Blessed be and amen. This is one of those occasions when our young people aren't with us at the beginning of the hour, at least most of them, because of children's chapel, which has been taking place over in the landmark auditorium. They have their own little dedicated children's service for the first part of the hour before going to classes. Normally I would share a message for all ages, generally in the form of a story, but I still have a story for you. Two, in fact. The first one comes from the Quaker tradition. Daniel Gorman was preparing his horse and buggy one Sunday morning, hurrying as he and his wife would be late for the Quaker meeting if they weren't off soon. Their two boys had already started on the 10-mile ride a half an hour ago, and their daughter, little Hetty, she would stay home today. Hetty didn't mind staying alone, and the long drive usually tired her out. She was only nine years old, and this was just too much to expect of a child. As he had finished his preparations, John Perkins appeared around the corner of the barn. Daniel was surprised by this. Although John was their nearest neighbor, six miles of main wilderness separated their two farms. Perkins, he should have been on his way to meeting now instead of out here calling out a friend. Perkins spoke quickly, Daniel, I don't think it's safe for you to go to meeting today. What's the matter, John? The boys are already off, wife and I, we're just leaving. Hetty is going to be here by herself today. Oh, Hetty should not be left alone. Listen, Daniel, you remember Tom Smith. Well, he and two men were seen in the woods near Crooked Fork just the other day, and they know all about your silver tankard and plates, and Tom swore one day when he was drunk that he was gonna take those away from you before the end of the summer. You know what that means. Daniel knew only too well. Tom Smith and his gang were desperate men who lived by swooping down on lonely farmhouses one after another and taking by force whatever was valuable within. Then they would disappear into the woods out of the reach of the law. In this thinly settled country of two centuries ago, a police force that just wasn't known. Everyone in this part of Maine, on the other hand, knew about the Gordon tankard and silver plates brought from England years earlier. So Daniel stood there in deep thought. His religious faith was very simple and it was profoundly deep. Here, here indeed was a severe test. And a thieves might not come. Neighbor John might be mistaken. And still, the risk of leaving little Hedy alone, that was great. And yet, Daniel said to himself, that's what I'm gonna do. My duty is plainly to go to the meeting and to take her with us would mean that I was teaching her to be afraid. He would place her in God's hands and trust that she would be okay. Hedy, Hedy said Daniel as he kissed her somewhat more solemnly than usual and then climbed into the wagon with his wife. If any strangers come while we are gone, Hedy, treat them well. We conspire of our abundance to feed the poor and what is gold and silver compared to God's word of love? And so her parents left. And Hedy set about making the kitchen tidy and then she sat down by the window with a book. It was very quiet and she was beginning to feel a little lonely. She looked out the window and she was happy to see three men walking rapidly toward the house. My father must have been expecting them, she thought to herself, which is why she told me to treat the stranger so well. And so she ran down the path to meet them, curtsied politely and cried out eagerly, won't you please come in? Father will be sorry that he missed you but he bade me to serve you in any way that I could. Are you alone here? The youngest man asked eagerly. That was Tom Smith. Oh yes, said Hedy, I am quite alone. Now if mother were here, she would do much more for you but I'll do everything I can. The men stared at each other in silence and then they entered the neat comfortable kitchen. Now that silver tankard stood on a huge old sideboard and behind it was a row of silver plates. The men looked at the sideboard, hesitated for a moment and the oldest one stepped toward it. You're going to be seated, Hedy said. Allow me to prepare you a meal. Aren't you? She was in a panic lest her guest would not feel at home. Tom Smith dropped into his chair as if his knees had suddenly given way beneath him. Yes, thank you my child. Yes, we will stay. We are actually all hungry. His companions turned and stared at him in amazement. For several minutes Hedy flitted in and out while the men watched her in silence. She dragged forward the table that stood against the wall and Tom Smith sprang up to help her. She asked him kindly will you lift down the silver tankard and three silver plates? And then she brought cold cider from the cellar, filled the tankard to the brim, butter from the springhouse, a huge loaf of freshly baked bread. And then she paused for a minute. Her forehead wrinkled in perplexity. Would you care to have some cold pork right now or will you wait while I cook one of my mother's chickens? We can't wait, said one of the older men. Just give us what you have. His eyes were already hungrily fixed on the food. And soon all the food was ready and with another little bow Hedy invited her guests to the table. And as she watched them eat, she thought that never in her life had she seen such strange manners. The men seized the meat in their fingers. They gulped it down ravenously as though they had not tasted food for days, which was in fact the case. And first one and then the other took long drinks from the tankard until it was quite empty and Hedy filled it again to the brim. And all this while not a word was spoken and the men seemed to avoid looking in her direction. Finally the table was almost bare and the men had shaken their heads at her offer of more food. Tom Smith started out of his chair and said, come on, let's go. Hedy was surprised at this lack of politeness. More surprised when one of the older men said, what are you talking about? Leave with all this silver just sitting here and he seized the tankard. And for the first time Hedy felt afraid. Oh please, she said, no, it's my father's. Then Tom Smith leaned across the table and took the man by the arm and said, put it down. I'll shoot the man who takes the first thing out of this house. Afraid, Hedy looked from one man to the other as they glared at each other across the table. And Tom Smith looked down at her upturned innocent face and a strange softness came into his eyes. And grumbling, his companions walked out of the door followed by Tom Smith and soon they were out of sight. When Daniel and his wife drove in later that evening Hedy greeted them saying, father, you're strangers, they came and I tried to treat them as well as I could but you know what? The strangest thing, they forgot to thank me. And the second story of more recent derivation, in fact it was published just a month or so ago in the literary magazine, The Sun, comes from Cindy Debord. My husband, our four kids and I, we simply adored living in Casablanca, Morocco. And when it came time to leave after four years it was really hard for us to separate to go home to Michigan. Now living in a third world country had taught us to reduce our belongings to the bare essentials. And even though we lived very simply when we decided that we were going to leave we gave away all of our remaining books and our furnishings. We took only a few clothes with us. But one thing we simply could not leave behind in Africa was our dog, Buddy. Despite her boy name, Buddy is a she. A short haired, tailless mutt that we had saved from a shelter here in Casablanca. And Buddy had been our companion through many challenges and many hardships these past four years. Well our flight out of Morocco was delayed leaving us with a very tight layover in Frankfurt, Germany. And we were told that the airline had arranged a special shuttle to whisk us to our next flight to the U.S. Run, run fast, the attendant said. Well Buddy, Buddy was down in the cargo with our baggage. And as we ran through the airport I silently prayed that they would be able to bring her to us. We got to the gate and a tall stoic German woman told us that we just had minutes to get on board. I asked her about our dog, rolling her eyes. She said, well let me check. And she checked and she said, your luggage isn't gonna make it. I asked her what flight Buddy would be put on. She said the earliest that Buddy could possibly depart would be the following day late in the afternoon. Our beloved pet would have to stay alone in Frankfurt for all of that time. At this, our 12 year old daughter let out a shriek. No way am I leaving Germany without my dog. Well I asked whether we could spend the night the whole family and leave the next day. No, said the gate attendant. There were no open seats on the flights the next day. If we didn't take this flight we'd have to spend two nights in Frankfurt, Germany. My husband glared at me. Everybody's waiting for us home in Michigan. I glared back. Are you really asking me to leave Buddy all alone in Germany for over a day? The gate attendant asked again, what are you gonna do? Our daughter squeezed my arm and said, I'm not leaving. My husband grabbed the other arm and started pulling me toward the gate. The woman held out our passes to us and said, what are you gonna do? You've got to decide right now. And so with my daughter waiting, with my husband angry, all the emotions of the past several days surged forth and I began crying and then I began swearing. And then just then the desk phone rang. The woman's assistant answered, yeah? Okay. He hung up the phone and he yelled, we got the dog and a cheer rose up. Not just from us, but from the entire line of passengers who had been watching this small spectacle unfold. Yes, we got the dog. Thank you for that rouser. I hope that got your attention. And we'll be returning to that theme of Umbudtu a little bit later on. Well, you probably realize that it's not too bad on Sunday. But if you happen to be exiting from First Unitarian Society's parking lot on a weekday afternoon between four and six o'clock, well, it can take a while. Employees at UW Hospital are finishing their shifts during that period and I have seen lines of cars stretching all the way from the stoplight at University Avenue down to the Nielsen Tennis Facility. And people are tired, people are anxious to get home or perhaps to the happy hour at their favorite watering hole. And so if you are sitting at the entrance of our campus trying to make a turn, you certainly do hope that another driver will take pity and extend a small courtesy. We've all been in comparable situations and we know what it feels like, I believe, to see other drivers looking you directly in the eye and yet failing to yield. We feel misused. Whatever cynicism we harbor for the human race begins to rear its ugly head. And no matter how positive our experience of the day has been, now we probably feel a little disgruntled. Now, fortunately, the situation I've just described doesn't occur, at least in my case, all that often because in general, the folks traveling home on Highland Avenue and University Bay Drive, hey, these are upper-mid-westerners, they're more or less decent. And after a moment or two, somebody usually will pause long enough for me to make my turn. And then almost immediately, any exasperation I might have felt turns to gratitude, accompanied by a renewed faith in my fellow Homo sapiens. The late Unitarian minister, Arthur Foote once wrote, good manners lubricate human relations. Thoughtfulness and consideration are ways in which we care for one another. Another former colleague and mentor of mine, Jack Taylor, echoes that thought, saying that politeness is love in action. And he continues, our days are often filled with stress, weighty issues pressed down upon us. And so it's easy to excuse our sharp words and our scrambling instances of impoliteness. But the fact remains that the second spent or not spent in some polite act, that reveals more about our faith in love than all of our high-flown rhetoric or our declarations on appropriate alters. It's easy to believe in love. The rub comes in doing it. What we're talking about here are common courtesies, the small, easy to execute gestures that do serve to instill a sense of social solidarity despite our differences in wealth, age, social standing, ethnicity or religion. The 18th century British philosopher and statesman Edmund Burke believed that a society needed to promote good manners as much if not more than to pass good laws because he said law touches us but here and there. But manners have a more or less continuous effect on us as we all try to negotiate the social terrain. But have manners, politeness, courtesy, if you will. Have these fallen from favor in recent times? The Italian psychotherapist Piero Ferrucci says that we are in the midst of a global cooling that our human relations are becoming cooler. And the former Benedictine priorist Joan Chiddister agrees saying that the world has never been in greater need of hospitality. And at times it does seem to be the case that rudeness and incivility have become the rule rather than the exception. The recent presidential and vice presidential debates, they featured continual interruptions and violations of decorum. And far from a mutually respectful disputation over important and pressing issues, these rhetorical contests more closely resemble boxing matches full of punches and counter punches. But if common courtesy is not practiced as routinely as it once was, what might have caused that shift? Well, we know that when it comes to politics, the electorate has become increasingly polarized, staking out positions, taking sides in what has become an unyielding zero-sum game. And so competitors for political office are increasingly viewed, not as honorable opponents, but as implacable foes. And this has led in turn to a no-holds-barred approach to electioneering in which courtesy becomes irrelevant, if not counterproductive. The bad thing here is that open displays of rudeness by political rivals. That has the effect of establishing an unwelcome behavioral standard. According to research recently reported in Scientific American, discourteous words and acts, they exert a powerful influence over those who are exposed to them. Witnesses to such conduct, the research shows, are likely, more likely themselves, to become perpetrators. Like a virus, rudeness appears to be contagious. Without our knowledge, without our conscious ascent, it creates an impression which subsequently influences our own deportment. Even if we consider ourselves a nice person, we will find ourselves emulating unseemly behavior that others have modeled for us and given approval to. Now there are other factors that work as well. When people are under pressure, when they feel stressed, as many Americans do these days, they tend to become more self-absorbed and as a result, less sensitive to others. Wrapped up in our own problems, we have difficulty responding to others in ways that are more positive, more affirming. And so in surveying employees at 18 different corporations, professor of business at Georgetown, Christine Poroth, asks these employees, what causes you to act uncivially with your coworkers? And over half of those queried said, it's because we're overloaded. And 40% complained that they have no time to be nice. Well then, some of us are also just skeptical of courtesy. Viewing it as superficial, insincere, maybe even manipulative. Haven't you noticed it prevail in the world in general? The novelist Eudora Welty once wrote, beware the man with manners. Now we Americans like to think of ourselves as a rather informal people, suspicious of those who try to put on airs, so to speak. The little social niceties in those old books of etiquette, they don't hold a lot of appeal to many of us. We prefer to be our simple unvarnished selves and we expect other people to accept us on our own terms. And thus, courtesy can be construed as a mask that people put on to hide their true feelings or their underlying intentions, not as a manifestation of true fellow feeling. From the romantic poets to the transcendentalists to the summer of love hippies, K.J. Delantonio writes, many in America have rejected this supposed facade of good behavior in favor of being true to their own inner nature. Good manners become mere mannerisms, the argument goes, which serve only to put barriers in the way of deeper and more honest connections. But if the currency of courtesy is perhaps worth less than in past centuries, can we afford to discount it even further? We now live in a mass society. We rub shoulders on a regular basis with strangers and passing acquaintances. How shall we treat these anonymous or near anonymous souls? Rudely, even if we opt for indifference, we only contribute to a further coarsening of our collective life. And there's also an element of self-interest here. Inconsiderate rude behavior has been shown to have a deleterious effect on a population's overall health. People who are regularly subjected to rudeness suffer from hypertension, ulcers, and insomnia at a higher rate than those who have been spared such experiences. So if we are at all interested in creating a happier, healthier environment for everyone, we would do well to be a little more disingenuous at times, acting graciously even when we really don't feel like it. People often ask me, the writer Aldous Huxley remarked in one of his last lectures, people often ask me what is the most effective technique for transforming one's life? Well, it's a little embarrassing after all these years of research and experimentation that I have to say the best answer is just be a little kinder. Now, most of what I've been sharing to this point relates to what we would call common courtesy, small, easily performed gestures that don't require much more than just a degree of mindfulness on our part. But then there's what we call uncommon courtesy, which is more challenging. It may require us to go out of our way or even to call upon certain inner resources like courage. The two stories that I shared earlier highlight this rarer species of courtesy. Let's go back to the debors. In spite of that family's meltdown in the Frankfurt Airport, it is clear that the airline they were traveling on had no obligation to locate their dog. Gate personnel, baggage handlers, they had no personal investment in these American strangers, and their job was to ensure a safe on time departure. Nevertheless, some sensitive soul took it upon themselves to look for and to retrieve that pet. They dropped whatever work they were assigned to do, they adjusted their priorities, and thanks to an uncommon courtesy that they extended, the story of it can't be done quickly changed to it has been done. Our family was once the beneficiary of a similar solicitousness. Trina and Kyle were flying to Madison in the spring of 1988 to get acquainted for the first time with what we both hoped would be our new church and our new home. The flight was delayed coming out of Binghamton, New York, and it arrived late in Chicago. And as the flight was nearing O'Hare, the flight attendant told passengers that they may have trouble making their connections. And in fact, she told Trina that she was going to miss the next shuttle, the last shuttle that night to Madison. She was in a panic. Kyle's diapers were packed in the suitcase in luggage. Her formula was running low. She could not possibly conceive of spending the night in O'Hare airport. She begged the flight attendant to check with the cockpit, see if the Madison shuttle can wait for me. Well, the stewardess was very, very reluctant, but she did go into the cockpit and consulted with the pilot. Upon landing in O'Hare, that pilot taxi directly to the area where the shuttle was waiting, she was quickly ushered off and onboard the shuttle and an hour later, a member of the Madison search committee picked her up at the Dane County airport. This level of courtesy requires as Joan Chiddister observes, a willingness to be interrupted, to be inconvenienced so that others can get on with their lives as well. But the lasting impact that such courtesy can have, not only on the receiver, but on the giver, that can be considerable. So what about that story about the Quaker family and their encounter with Tom Smith in his robber gang? Did that strike any of you as problematic? I mean, isn't it hard to imagine leaving a nine-year-old child alone in an isolated cabin, knowing that predators are on the loose and on the prowl? Their staunch belief in a benevolent deity notwithstanding, why would Heddy's parents take that risk? Thou shalt not put the Lord your God to the test, which is what Jesus said to Satan when the latter dared him to jump off the roof of the great temple in Jerusalem. Hey, the angels will save you, Satan said. Thou shalt not put the Lord your God to the test, but this is exactly what Heddy's father was doing. He was subjecting his daughter to this kind of a test. But that aspect of the narrative aside, it's really about Heddy herself and the practice of uncommon courtesy. And stories similar to this one circulated among early Quakers to encourage this kind of generous and sacrificial giving. Now, Heddy, of course, is unaware of the robbers' intentions or their identity as they approach her house. And in her naivete and in her desire for human company, she makes every effort possible to satisfy her guests' needs. Heddy's innocence, her eagerness to please, that makes a profound impression on young Tom Smith. How can I rob a household where someone has been so good to me? Can courtesy induce a transformation? This story suggests that just maybe it can. There is something wonderful in the notion that courtesy can become an unexamined, automatic process just like breathing, Yifou Toan writes. And when a mark of concern from an acquaintance or a stranger is touched by this genuine warmth, it seems like a miracle. Such behavior, such uncommon courtesy, was also a strategy employed by leaders of the civil rights movement in the 1960s. Martin Luther King and his collaborators packaged their campaigns in ways that were designed to blunt the opposition, that of their enemies, and induce acceptance of that agenda from the uncommitted. Harvard's Randall Kennedy recently wrote that this meant speaking well, dressing suitably, and minding one's manners. And as an example, Kennedy cites the exemplary deportment of African-American college students who sought to desegregate lunch counters in the Deep South. And as those students sat on their stools, quietly but firmly asking to be served, onlookers behind them shouted racial epithets and poured ketchup and mustard over their heads. The syndicated columnist James J. Kilpatrick, he was a die-hard segregationist in the 1960s, but this kind of scene unsettled even James J. Kilpatrick. Here were colored students, he wrote, in coats and white shirts and blouses wearing ties and one of them was reading from Goethe, another was taking notes from a biology text. And here was this gang of white boys behind them come to heckle, a rag tag rabble, slack jaw, black jacket at grinning fit to kill. Yeah, it gives one pause. Kilpatrick, as I said, was a segregationist. His views later shifted. Three decades later, he said to a reporter in a Virginia newspaper, I should have had a better consciousness of the immorality and the absolute evil of segregation. So one wonders whether those courageous black students had something to do with that shift in Kilpatrick's consciousness and perhaps in the consciousness of many other white Americans as well. That's not to say that courtesy always helps, but it very, very seldom hurts. Now if this is not assigned a very high value in our own culture these days, in others it is thought to possess considerable merit. Ran is a concept that is familiar to many in China. It's a Confucian concept. Adeline Yen Ma says, ran is a complex word. It incorporates elements of acceptance and concession and empathy for another party's sentiments and for their feelings. But ran literally means to give away, to concede, to make way. And that is what courtesy toward others calls for. It means moving away from the me first attitude, moving back so that it can become a you first yearning on our part. And then there's also this Bantu South African concept of Ubuntu, which was celebrated in the anthem that was performed by the meeting house chorus a while ago. And Ubuntu has much in common with that Chinese concept of ran because they both point to the connection between acts of courtesy and the creation of a larger peace and harmony among us. At Nelson Mandela's memorial service in 2013, President Obama invoked Ubuntu saying that this word captures Mandela's greatest gift, his recognition that we are all bound together in ways that may be invisible to the eye, but there is a oneness to our humanity and that we achieve our full selves by sharing ourselves with others and caring for others who are around us. Now I have to concede that I could have benefited from some lessons in Ubuntu or ran in my own life. As was true for many who came of age in the raucous 1960s, courtesy wasn't for me a very high priority. As my wife Trina undoubtedly remembers, we went to high school together, as a teenager, I was just a little too full of myself. And so in my interactions with my teachers and with elders, I was not always respectful, much less solicitous. But then something interesting happened. My parents became the owner proprietors of a resort hotel and restaurant and I was put to work serving customers. And it did not take me very long to learn that courtesy is the key to customer satisfaction. Not always, because there are some patrons who are determined always to be displeased, but the axiom held in most cases. And I also discovered that when those I serve felt satisfied and gratified, hey, I felt pretty good myself. Sheryl Farucci says that the benefit is reciprocal. If we give warmth, we end up not feeling quite so cold ourselves. Now do I slip up on occasion? Absolutely. I am not always my best or most attentive self, particularly when I'm under stress. And that's why I have to remember that for courtesy to become love in action, we gotta practice. Just as I did in the Holiday Inn in Naples, Florida for six years. Courtesy is not a natural attribute, folks. It's a skill that we all have to master. Instilling a sense of its value is all the more difficult these days when highly visible political and corporate leaders act in a less than considerate and often in an abusive way. We do need better role models, but they are around. Those role models are around if we take the time to notice them. Pierro Farucci remembers a time when his son, Jonathan, then 12 years old, was out hiking in Italy with some companions. And after a few miles, Jonathan began to feel rather tired and he gradually fell further and further behind the group. But one boy turned around and he noticed, hey, Jonathan's way back there, he's lagging. And he walked back to give him company and some words of encouragement. Later on, Farucci says, my son described this as warming help, attention, a kind word in a difficult moment. It's perhaps what each of us needs, Farucci says, in our own life path so that we can take one more step ahead. Blessed be God, man. Our offering today will be shared with a Grace Hospice for a program that they have started to assist individuals who cannot afford hospice services or who do not have insurance that will pay for such services. And so we invite you to contribute to that worthy cause. And Sorrow's Cares of the Congregation book lives just outside of the center doors on the right of the auditorium. And we invite people to record in these some joy or sorrow that has affected your life, the life of someone close to you in recent times. There are no entries today in our book, but I do always want to remind you that that is an option if you would like to share something that's going on with the larger congregation. So we will just now continue moving right on to our closing hymn, number 315 in The Grey Hymnals. Please be seated for the benediction and the postlude. Benediction, from the Latin term benedicare, it means literally to speak well. Much of ministry is a benediction, a speaking well of each other and of the world, a speaking well of what we value, honesty, love, forgiveness, trust, courtesy, a speaking well of our efforts, a speaking well of our dreams, because this is how we celebrate life through speaking well of it, living the benediction and becoming, as a word, well spoken. Blessed be and amen.