 Welcome to our Winter Choral Festival. My name is the Reverend Doug Watkins, and I'm part of the clergy staff here at the First Unitarian Society. It is my great honor and joy to welcome you here today. I invite you to extend that welcome by turning to each other and briefly offering a warm greeting now. Greetings, beautiful first service. Greetings, greetings, greetings, greetings. I knew that was asking for trouble, but we will move forward. This month, December, our congregation is exploring the theme of peace. As Unitarian Universalists, we have long held central the importance of working for peace and justice, and we know just how essential the gift of music is in that work, and so we celebrate its power today. As is typical of our tradition, we draw from a wide range of sources for our spiritual truth in our lives. In addition to Jewish and Christian sources, we draw from the writings and teachings of the wisdom of other spiritual traditions. We draw from the words and deeds of prophetic people in many times and places. We draw from the wisdom of each of you. Whoever you are, wherever you are on your life's journey, you are welcome here. This is a relevant moment to invite you to silence your electronic devices, for I will now ask that for a moment, we come together invoking a sense of peace in this place. I invite you to a time of centering silence as you call to mind the spirit of this season that speaks most powerfully to you of meaningful peace. May we be together in that silence here and now. May such a spirit fill this place along with the gift of music. It is a tradition in Unitarian Universalist congregations for us to begin the service with the lighting of a chalice. That symbol is especially appropriate to today's theme. The source of that symbol began in World War II when we utilized the flaming chalice as a way of inviting those who were being threatened by Nazi tyranny to find a safe space and a passage to escape from that threat. So we light this chalice using the words written and performed by our director of music, Drew Collins. A new Isaiah, a rewriting of prophetic scripture. I say, Isaiah, prophesying to the folks of Zion, that for the darkness living, bright light is given. Baby King is birthed, supposed to rule the earth. Jesse, David, and Solomon, kings of Jews, one and all of them, from this lofty line of big cheeses comes this illy-bitty Jesus. And we are told it will be a rain of peace. Announce that birth from a mountaintop. Truck stop, treetop, blacktop, backstop, bus stop, head shop. Don't stop till you drop. Shout it. Tell them all that it will be a rain of peace. He the shepherd, we the sheep, lambs in his arms fall right to sleep. Beats anything you ever saw, lion and ox, share in straw. Wolf hanging with a lamb, leopard jillen with a ram, lions and calves oxen and ass cow and bear and an infant sit on top a serpents lair and a little child shall lead them. It is your turn to add to making music. I invite us to rise in all the ways that we do and join our voices in hymn number 225, O come, O come, Emmanuel verse one and two. Robert F. Kennedy's speech in 1966 to the young people of South Africa. He said, few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events. It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal or acts to improve the lot of others or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples to build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance. Here ends our reading. On justice, on truth, on peace, oh peace. On justice, on truth, on peace, oh peace. On justice, on truth, on justice, on truth. On justice, on truth, on peace, it's done. Truth is done and peace is made. It is time for us to sing our children and religious educators to their classes. I invite us to rise and body and our spirit as we sing number 224, Let Christmas Come. Remaining standing, we will join together in our responsive reading that is printed in the insert that is entitled, Text. It is on the right hand side, Daring for Peace, written by the Reverend Maureen Cloran. I invite you to respond in the italicized portion of the text. As we are confronted by chaos, may we have the wisdom to believe in peace. Surrounded by voices of disagreement, may we have the audacity to speak for peace. Lured by the seduction of despair, may we have the courage to maintain a vision of possibility and peace. You may be seated. This morning's offering goes to support the ongoing ministry of First Unitarian Society's music program. Those of you who attend this congregation regularly know firsthand of its central role in bringing its gifts year round to this congregation. It is a significant resource to us and thus requires a significant resource in return. But your generosity today also allows us not only to strengthen what we offer here, but to provide greater power in partnering with the larger community of Madison and beyond. May you be generous in your gift. The offering will now be given and received in love and joy. Move now to a story most ancient that has called in many times and places for the human imagination to ponder the saving potential of a child's birth. The call of angelic and otherwise for peace on earth, goodwill to all. And that even in times of deep division and war, love and compassion may show us the way. And a single sentence may spark that imaginative warmth as the gospel according to Luke, chapter two, verse seven tells us. And Mary brought forth her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no room for him in the end. Here ends the reading. One of the joys and gifts of this season is when our human expectation meets the reality that is before us. As I invite you to join in our next hymn number 245, the Unitarian Universalist hymnal is a perfect embodiment of that opportunity as unsuspecting souls begin to launch into a Christmas carol with different words than they expect in front of them. I invite you to an experience of mindfulness and being here now as we sing the words to 245, Joy to the World, verse one and two, rising at all the ways that we do. Amazing peace, a Christmas poem. Thunder rumbles and the mountain passes and lightning rattles the eaves of our houses. Flood waters await us in our avenues. Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche over unprotected villages. The sky slips low and gray and threatening. We question ourselves, what have we done to sow a front nature? We interrogate and worry God, are you there? Really, does the covenant you have made with us still hold into this climate of fear and apprehension? Christmas enters, streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope and singing carols of forgiveness, high up in the bright air. The world is encouraged to come away from ranker, come the way of friendship. We clap hands and welcome the peace of Christmas. We beckon this good season to wait a while with us. We Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim say come, peace. Come and fill us in our world with your majesty. We Jew and Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian implore you to stay a while with us. So we may learn by your shimmering light how to look beyond complexion and see community. We angels and mortals, believers and non-believers, look heavenward and speak the word aloud, peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud, peace. We look at each other and then into ourselves. And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation, peace my brother, peace my sister, peace my soul.