 Well, you probably never heard that tune before on the harp. Good morning, everybody. A happy hello and welcome to another fabulous Sunday here at First Unitarian Society. We're independent thinkers, gather in a safe, nurturing environment to explore issues of cultural, spiritual, and ethical significance as we try to make a difference in this world. I'm Steve Goldberg, a proud but incurably shy member of this congregation. And I'd like to extend an extra special welcome to any guests, visitors, or newcomers. If this is your first time at First Unitarian Society, I think you'll find that it's a very special place. And if you'd like to learn more about our special buildings, we offer a guided tour after today's service. Just gather over here by the windows, following the service, and we'll take good care of you. And speaking of taking good care of each other, I'd like to offer a quid pro quo this morning. If you, if you silence your pesky electronic devices, we promise to deliver a service that will touch your heart, stir your spirit, and trigger one or two new thoughts. We're glad you're here. It is my pleasure and honor to welcome our pulpit guests this morning. This morning we have the Reverend Vale Weller in our pulpit. She is the Congregational Giving Director at the Unitarian Universalist Association. Before that, since 1998, she has been one of our parish ministers and a lifelong Unitarian Universalist. She lives currently in San Mateo, California with her husband, two children, and a lovely big dog. So Vale is inspiring and really helps us think about stewardship as a spiritual practice. Vale, we are so happy you are here, and we look forward to your words today. I invite us into a few moments, about 30 seconds or so, of sinning silence to bring ourselves fully present into this place. You are welcome in that silence to offer a meditation or a prayer or to just be for a few moments. May we together enter into a time of quiet. May that place of deep-centered silence and awareness of our breath lead us into this time of worship. James Baldwin writes, For nothing is fixed, forever, forever, forever it is not fixed. The earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. I invite us to rise as we continue with James Baldwin's words. As the lighting of our chalice, the words are printed in your order of service. Here we say, The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out. In that spirit of light, may we join our voices together in hymn number 347, Gather the Spirit. And while you're still standing, I invite you to turn towards each other and offer a friendly greeting. Let's check in afterward to see if you still feel that way. Let's go into the story now. Okay. Do you call them up? Do I call them up? I call them up now. Well, good morning. I want to invite anyone who would like a closer spot for us to have a conversation and a story to come on forward. Super close. Super close and cozy. Well, I'm kidding. We don't have to get that close. I want to see your sweet face, though, if you're that close. In any case, I want to let you know what's going to happen. We're going to be eavesdropping into a family argument this morning. So first I just want to say, in case you were wondering, every family has arguments. It's normal. All families have arguments. Have your families ever had an argument? Yes. Okay. Just chat. One brave person, by the way, raised her hand. Okay. So all families have arguments. We're just eavesdropping into a bit of an argument today that takes place in this story. And the character who's speaking is an 11-year-old girl, and her family calls her mountain girl, just so you know. She has called a family meeting. Do you have family meetings sometimes? Well, Mountain Girl called a family meeting to talk about money because she feels very strongly that her family doesn't have enough and that her parents aren't taking this concern very seriously. So she calls the meeting, and so we're picking up the conversation at that point. Can you believe that my father is sitting here looking me straight in the eye and saying, but Mountain Girl, I thought you knew how rich we are? I say, we can't get very far in this discussion if you won't even admit that we're poor. I'll prove it to you right now, he says. Let's make a list of the money we earn in a year. How much is that? I'll write it down. But he says, not so fast. We have a lot of things to think about before we add up that number. What kinds of things, I ask? My mother says, we don't take our pay just in cash, you know. We have a special plan, so we get paid in sunsets too, and in having time to hike around the canyons and look for eagles' nests. But I say, can't you just give me a single number to write down on the piece of paper? You know how parents are. So we start with $20,000. That's a lot of dollars. That's how much my father says it's worth to him to work outdoors, where he can see sky all day and feel the wind and smell rain an hour before it's really raining. He says it's worth that much to be where if he feels like singing, he can sing out loud and no one will mind. I have just written $20,000 down when my mother says, you better make that $30,000, because it's worth at least another $10,000 to hear coyotes howling back in the hills. So I write $30,000. Then she remembers that they like to see long distances and far away mountains that change color about 10 times a day. That's worth another $5,000 to me, Mom says. I'm not surprised, because my mother claims to be an expert on mountain shadows in the desert. She says she can tell time by the way those colors change from dawn to dark. I scratch out what I had and I write $35,000. It is a lot. My father thinks of something else. When a cactus blooms, you should be there to watch it, because it might be a color you won't ever see again any other day of your life. How much would you say that color would be worth? 50 cents, my brother asks, but they decide on another $5,000. So now I write $40,000. But I'd forgotten how much my father likes to make bird sounds, so of course he has to add another $10,000 for having both day birds and night birds around us. I cross out what I had and I write $50,000. Now my mother says, let's see what our mountain girl is worth to us. I'm beginning to catch on to their kind of thinking. So I suggest I'm worth $10,000, even though my little brother has begun to laugh. Don't underestimate yourself, my father says. They end up deciding I'm worth about a million dollars. I say I don't think I am, but I write it down anyway. In fact, it turns out that every one of us is worth a million. So we have $4,050,000. Then I realize I want to add $5,000 myself. For the pleasure I have wandering in open country, free as a lizard, not following trails, not having a plan, just turning whatever way the winds turn me. They say that's certainly worth $5,000. So that makes $4,055,000. Finally my brother says to put down $7 more for all the nights we get to sleep outside under the stars. He'll say $7 doesn't sound like enough, so we talk him into making it $5,000. Now my paper says $4,060,000 and we haven't actually started counting the cash. To tell the truth, the cash part doesn't seem to matter anymore. I suggest it shouldn't be on a list even of our kind of riches. So the meeting is over. The rest of them have gone outside to see the new sliver of moon, but I'm still sitting here at our nice handmade kitchen table with one cookie left on my mother's good blue-flowered plate and I'm writing this book about us. I kind of pat the table and I'm glad it's ours. In fact I think I'll call this story the table where rich people sit. Thank you so much for being here and listening and maybe you can talk about that story more when you get home. We're going to sing a song now to sing the children out that really expresses that beautiful cycle of generosity. From you I receive, to you I give. Number 402, let's sing it through three times. Yes, Rizas, we do. From you I receive, to you and from this we one more time. You may be seated. In preparation for time of reflection, I offer a reading from Unitarian Universalist Minister Teresa Soto entitled The Magic of an Empty Palm. The magic of your palm is that though empty, it can be filled. But look at it, one of the planes of creation with which your body is equipped, lines sweeping out to fingers and the marvels of opposable thumbs, that single leap toward grasping. And do not fear if you do not have hands. We know that you too create. And together we take up what it means to hold a value and make it come alive. More than only thought and feeling rather being, doing and becoming a sculpted expression colorful an embodiment of why we are what we do and what we will yet become. Here ends the reading. Love to have a conversation, a brief conversation with my dear personal friend, Steve. Come on up and grab the microphone. He has no idea what's about to happen just so you know. He's just a good sport in case you hadn't known that about him. Just a quick little chat to illustrate a point. So Steve, can you tell me, is that on? All right, we'll figure it out. Can you tell me what's your favorite ice cream flavor? There you go. Ben and Jerry's Carmel Sutra. Oh, that's a good one. Good choice. What's the latest book that you read? Agent Running in the Field by Jean Le Carré. Interesting. What's your favorite color? Does that have meaning around here? Special local meaning? Okay. All right. I think I might get it. And where were you born? Chicago. And how much money do you make? That's all right. You don't have to answer that. Thank you. Almost enough. You've illustrated my point. So thank you very much. That is, there's something about that question, even the subject that sort of tends to raise anxiety, I notice. It's like an immediate conversation killer. Thank you for being willing to illustrate how much that is true. So why is it that we're so deeply uncomfortable with that particular line of questioning? I mean, I feel myself moving into that fight or flight kind of sensibility internally. My hackles go up and psychologists remind us that if a reaction is out of proportion to the matter at hand, it's a sure sign that there's something larger going on. So let's think about that together a bit this morning. I could imagine that some of you were thinking, how dare you? That's so inappropriate to ask. We just don't talk about that. Why don't we? What is it about this particular subject that is so inherently taboo? I ran across an article recently that got me thinking about this and it was written by Lisa Kressman, who is an Episcopal priest and she runs an online community for preachers called Backstory Preachers. And here are some of the things that she highlighted. According to Lizzie Post of the Emily Post Etiquette Dynasty, the ranking of topics from easiest to most difficult to talk about is as follows. Weather, entertainment, food, hobbies, sports, politics, religion, relationships, sex, and then money. Another study in London revealed that people were seven times more likely to talk with a stranger about sex, affairs that they have had, or medical conditions that they are dealing with, more so than their salaries. Close to three-quarters of Americans think that talking about money is rude. So thank you so much for inviting me into your pulpit this morning, Reverend Doug Watkins, to speak about money, no pressure. I do feel that there are two things going on which inform our reaction to this topic. Put in religious terms, there's been a severing of something sacred. And there's also a cultural wound that's in need of healing. Let's begin with the cultural. It's a very middle-class value and, further, a very white privileged value to not talk about money. So Lisa Kressman, again, helped me to do some digging about this subject. And she reminds me, in England, the wealth of others was easily estimated based on the amount of land one owned and all it required to build up and maintain it. A person's wealth and the status, power, and prestige that it implied was self-evident. People who had money didn't need to talk about it. Therefore, the people who talked about money were the ones who didn't have it. And thus, the discussion of money was associated with those in a lower class. To oversimplify hundreds of years of social development to be classy, meaning to be polite, genteel, respectable, meant not talking about money. And so, this social norm was established, in that cultural context, at least. Well, you know what happened. The early American colonizers from England brought this cultural value with them. And these values have taken hold in our larger culture and within Unitarian Universalism. However, we all probably know that there are cultural perspectives about money and about giving and about that sacred cycle of generosity that do not emanate from the colonizer's perspective. There have been elaborate rituals throughout time in cultures all across the globe in which gifts are abundantly given and received. Only the best is what is given away and to hoard results in being cursed. We know that there are lots of other options for how to deal with money and generosity, but I think most of us feel pretty trapped by the cultural context in which we are in. So what are we to do? Well, I have good news. We're all here together and congregations like FUS exist in order to support us in making difficult changes in the direction of spiritual health. There is power to considering a topic in a deep place of discernment together in community and then making decisions about a different way of living together. There's a different kind of accountability and power. We come together on Sunday mornings or Saturday late afternoons as the case may be not only to experience a pause from the routine daily grind or a pause from the pain or boredom or loneliness of our lives, but also hopefully for inspiration and encouragement. Please note that courage is embedded in encouragement, encouragement to express our highest values through the very living of our lives. And we need to make this decision over and over and over again because we are humans and as humans again and again we fall short of our highest ideals. The culture of white privilege that we move within, and I'm going to pause because sometimes when that phrase is mentioned people go away. So I want to call you back to say what I mean by that phrase. The culture of white privilege that is pervasive in our society at large and therefore influences all of the institutions that we interact with including this one. The culture of white privilege that we move within distorts our perspective which serves the larger purpose of keeping us separate, disconnected from one another. White centered culture also perpetuates this sense of shame around money and we are therefore so much more likely to avoid discussing it at all. We are far more comfortable discussing all of those other things, even sex, thanks to our whole lives, the comprehensive sexuality education curriculum that I'm sure your congregation has used. We're far more comfortable discussing any of those other subjects more so than we are discussing money. I've had conversations with many congregational leaders about asking members to give a certain percentage of their income to support the congregation just in conversation as kind of stewardship consulting with congregational leaders and as an aside five percent is what we recommend congregations invite people to contribute and further we recommend that people who have been part of a congregation for more than 10 years increase to a 10 percent contribution and there's a little easy way to think about that which is 10 by 10. So I just invite you to file that away in your mind as something to let settle in and consider. However whenever this is brought up the concern that is always expressed is for the members that are deemed unable to pledge at that level. What if people can't afford to give like that we don't want to exclude and we don't want to offend and I agree we don't want to exclude and we don't want to offend. However there's a lot of stuff going on here so I'm gonna just unpack it a little bit. So first of all statistically individuals with a lower income consistently contribute a higher percentage of their income to charity than those with a higher income do. So by way of involving you in this question if you were to guess which state had the highest contribution percentage to charity average what would you guess that state might be. Okay I'm hearing a lot of good interesting guesses and somewhere out there I heard the right one which was Utah. So the thing with Utah yes right so the thing about Utah is our friends who are Mormon are asked invited expected to give 10 percent of their income to support their beloved religious tradition. From that 10 percent if they are moved to contribute to other causes they do that on top of. So in the state of Utah the average contribution to charity is 10.6 percent of income. The next most generous states are Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee and South Carolina where between six and seven percent of income average is given to charity. Who are we actually protecting when we express concern about asking for a percentage of income as a contribution to our congregations. I worry that we're actually trying subconsciously and I do believe it is subconscious to protect people with a higher income. A couple of things I invite you to do a quick calculation when you get home to figure out what your average contribution is to charity generally just so you have that information just so you know that's information for you to to look at and think about. I feel strongly that we need not be afraid to ask our own dedicated members and friends to give to support their own religious home. This congregation, your congregation, is very worthy of that support. These values, your values, are worthy of support even sacrifice. There are so many things about this community that you have to be proud of and one of the first that always comes up when I speak with folks from your congregation is your beautiful and historic building. The building which is a beautiful campus that hosts all kinds of engagement in the larger community. It's the building that is, it's not the building itself although it is stunningly historically important and beautiful but it's what the building makes possible that I know you're most proud of. There are so many things about this congregation that I know you have to be proud of. Your children's religious education program is so dynamic and successful. FUS is one of the founding members of the Dane Sanctuary Coalition and voted to host someone in sanctuary if that becomes necessary. Your small group ministry program journey circles is thriving connecting people to monthly themes. The lay ministry program supported over 200 members last year with visits and meals and caring presence in times of despair and you have a sustainability series this year helping to bring the values of care for this planet to life. The congregation has long been a lover of arts and music and has been providing a ministry to the larger community making it possible for others to come and experience that beauty. So there's so much, so much that you bring to life here, so much to be proud of and so much to support. When it comes to our relationship with money the other thing that's at work is spiritual. When we forget that we are all connected we labor under the illusion that money belongs to us rather than understanding that money is simply a form of energy that can be used not only to meet our basic needs but also to transform the world in service of the values of love. We may work to earn money but that amount of money does not in any way inform our worth as beings. We may work to earn money but that amount of money in no way informs our worth as beings. It is not our money that defines us. Our culture tries to convince us otherwise by portraying the accumulation of wealth as the ultimate point in living and then dividing us into strict class groups which sever our connections with one another. The separations between us are a part of the sickness of our time and another is the illusion of consumerism as the true religion. In our hearts we know better, we know better but this is the water in which we swim. Nothing at all truly belongs to us. Any wealth that we do accumulate is with us only temporarily and when we cross the threshold out of this life we only take with us the love that we have nourished while here. But I have another piece of good news and that is that there is a way to be reminded that money can work magic. There is a path that leads to re-enchantment and that is the re-prioritization of the common good and our own beloved Unitarian Universalist values in our understanding of giving. I predict that you will look forward to giving generously when you know that it is a way for you to enrich that larger sense of common good, something larger than our own lives, to express interdependence with others and to strengthen Unitarian Universalism whose values, may I add, are sorely needed in this time, desperately needed. All of this has the potential to re-enchant your relationship with money. So I have a proposition for you to consider. I want to encourage you to create an IRA. Now I'm not talking about an IRA that will provide you with retirement funds, that's a different kind of IRA. This is an IRA that's an integrity resource alignment. If you were asked by your best friend or your child or your co-worker what your highest values are, really what would you say? I don't believe that you'd say that your highest value is the accumulation of stuff. I don't believe that you'd say your highest value is to overwork to such a degree that when you come home you are nothing but an empty shell. I don't believe that you'd say your highest value is to earn money so that you can spend it all on yourself or your family or hide it away so that it never sees the light of day. I don't believe you'd say any of those things. Instead I'm guessing that if your child or your grandmother or your best friend asked you your highest values you might talk about your belief in using your gifts to make the world a better place, the inherent worth and dignity of every person, the interconnectedness of all life, spiritual growth. You might talk about working for justice, equity and compassion in human relations. You might talk about your belief in freedom for all people. You might lift up love as the most important value. These are Unitarian Universalist values, values that I am guessing are at the very heart of your life. Only you can answer the question of if these values are at the very heart of your giving. So I invite you to consider that deeply, personally with your family members and with your other compatriots here at FUS and then I invite you to align your resources with your highest values by contributing a noticeable share of your financial energy to FUS, your spiritual home, which is at work in the world to address the challenges of our time. When I say noticeable share, I mean giving an amount that you actually feel and notice in your daily life, an amount that centers your commitment to this place and its principles as a way of practicing your faith. This is what makes it a spiritual practice. It means not wavering from this commitment and allowing your discretionary income to come after this commitment. I predict that if you experiment with this, you will not find that your lifestyle is compromised. Try it and report back how you feel to your friends and compatriots here. So just to pull a number out of thin air, you could begin with contributing 5 percent, which is half of 10 percent, which is what our friends who are Mormons contribute and then some. And I have nothing but respect for people who are in other phase following their conscience, but I feel a little bit resentful, I guess, that we don't fund our values to the same degree. I think they are worthy of that support. So this is a lot of heavy stuff that I get to fly in from away to say to you and then fly home again. So I just want to say, if there's anything that you do take away from this, let it be this next little exercise that I'm going to ask you to participate in. So simply just take your hands, just do what I do, and you can trust me that it won't be painful. Just take your hands and outstretch them if you would and then squeeze them as hard as you physically can until you feel it and then release. Let's just try it again one more time and release. Just notice the difference in how it feels in your body, but also in your spirit. Erwin Raphael McManus writes that generosity is about being free. The generous are free from the things of this world. While they may own possessions, their possessions do not own them. They are free from taking for their own benefit and are free to give, even when it results in personal sacrifice. Generosity, he concludes, is love in action and love is measured in giving, not taking. Although I would say that there is a time to receive. We aren't always the best at that either. So that's another sermon for another day, in any case. We believe in freedom for all people. We believe in religious freedom and democracy and all of the other kinds of freedom. I want you to be free in all ways also. I want us as Unitarian Universalists to be free from the illusion of separateness, free from the lie of consumerism and free from shame around money. I want you to be free to re-enchant your relationship with money, to have it feel magical again and know the good that it's doing. I want you to be free to give your best share to serve your highest values. I want you to be free to align your integrity and your resources. I want you to be free to be truly generous, to contribute more than you even thought was possible and to experience how healing that generosity can be. I want you to be free to give. May we each know what it really means to be free, to use our temporary resources to serve the greatest possible good and to invest a noticeable share of our income in this community which transforms lives and represents our highest values in the public square. It is in our hands. May it be so so that we may give love and generously and freely. Amen. Thank you, Veil, for that really inspiring and meaningful message, and it is appropriate that we move into the time of the giving and receiving of the offering, which is a weekly invitation to that re-enchantment of the deep alignment between the resources that we have in our integrity. May we experience this time as liberating and calling us to freedom. To remind us that this offering will go to support the many programs that First Unitarian Society offers to each other into the larger world, many of which Veil illuminated today, but also this week 50 percent of our offering will go to help veterans for peace. I hope you will take a moment, if you've not done so already, to look in the red floors to read more about their important mission in the world. May this be a time that brings us into powerful alignment and helps us be free. We will now give and receive the offering in a spirit of love and generosity. And so today we've been generous with our donations, we've been generous with our music, and now we get to talk about being generous with our volunteer time as we salute, embrace, and thank those who volunteer to make this service run smoothly. Starting with Tim Conroy, his maiden voyage running the sound system. I think he did a great job today, Tim. Thank you very much. Look at that. Let the record show that's the first time anybody's ever applauded the person running the sound system. Our lay minister, Ann Smiley, our greeters today, Claire Box and Lauren Manston, are ushers for this crazy crowd. Brian Chanis, Marty Hollis, Michael Losey, and Ann Ostrom. It took four ushers to control you today. Hospitality and coffee are being lovingly prepared in the kitchen by Biss Nitschke, Mary Bergen, and Teresa Rademacher, and our tour guide as always is John Powell. Just one announcement, and that is art in the right place. Our annual art fair occurs in a couple weekends, November 23 and 24, and there is still plenty of room for volunteers. So thanks for those of you who have already volunteered, and that is the end of the announcements. And pretty soon you'll be able to reactivate your pesky electronic devices. Before we move on into our day, may we take a moment together in community to reflect. One of the greatest gifts is that, days and weeks into years, we come together week after week, and we bring all that is true in our lives, and we offer it here. So for a moment, reflectively, may we let our breath bring us into a place of awareness and mindfulness of this here and now. And from that grounded space, may we take just a moment to think about the week, to reflect in our own lives, in the lives of those that we know and love, and in the larger world what is true. May we be aware of the moments of joy, joy, celebration, wonder, in your life, in those that you love, the larger life, in what we do not yet know, for just a moment to hold it and honor it, and let its pulse and joy live in you, and a deep breath in, and release to connect it with all that is. And we also come to this space with difficulties, and loss, and sadness, and frustration. May we hold that as well, our own, the difficulties in the lives of people that we know and love, the large or pain of the world. We hold that in this space too. Bringing our great compassion, our call to do what we each can in healing, justice, love. We know that by doing this practice week after week, we call ourselves into greater relationship, deeper relationship with ourselves, with each other, with the great mystery. For this and more, may we always be grateful and attentive. We hope and pray in the name of love. Amen, and blessed be. May we rise in the ways that we do, and join in him number 151. I wish I knew how it would feel to be free. As we sing this song may we access that deep longing for freedom and connection with the writers of this song. Love in my heart, keep us apart, could know what it means, everyone. Then you'd see and agree, for everyone should be. I wish I could give all I'm long, advice I'm long, could do all the things I can do, though I might be stuck. I wish I could be like a bird in the sky. How sweet if I found the sun and looked down to the sea. Then I'd sing because I know how it feels to be. As the chalice is extinguished and we move out into the rest of our day, as you go, may you feel the embrace of this community, the calling of the spirit, and the purpose of your living. May you go in peace and with great joy. Amen. I invite us to take our seat and receive one more gift of music before we move on into our day.