 Now, both will be greater or not better for each of you. Yeah. Don't we just step into the stage on the feet? On the entire stage? I'll do it for you. I'll do it for you. All right. I'll do it for the second person. Oh. That is easy. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Please join in a moment of centering silence so we can be fully present with each other this morning. And now let's get musically present with each other by turning to the words for our in-gathering hymn, which you'll find in your order of service. We're going to sing it through twice. Good evening, everybody. Welcome to another Sunday here at First Unitarian Society, except to me it's not just another Sunday. It's my birthday. Please hold your applause. We have a tight schedule today. I've decided to spend the morning of my birthday right here at First Unitarian Society because as we all know, this is a place where independent thinkers can gather in a safe, nurturing environment to explore issues of social and spiritual and ethical significance as we try to make a difference in this world. I'm Steve Goldberg, a proud 67-year-old member of this congregation, and I'd like to extend a special welcome to any guests, visitors, and newcomers. If this is your first time at First Unitarian Society, I know you'll find that this is a special place, and if you'd like to learn more about our special buildings, we'll be conducting a guided tour after the service today. Just meet over here by the windows after the service, and we'll take good care of you. And after the tour, you can join us in our fellowship hour where you get a chance to wish me a happy birthday. This would be a perfect time to silence those electronic devices that you just will not need during the service, and while you're taking care of that, I'll remind you that if you're accompanied today by a youngster, and you think that your young companion would rather experience the service from a more private space, we offer a couple options for you, starting with our child haven here in the back corner of the auditorium, and some comfortable seating just outside the doorway in the commons from which you and your young companion can see and hear the service. And as many of you know, the reason we are able to hear and see the service today is that it's brought to us by a wonderful team of volunteers whose names I will read to you right now so that you can thank them later. Helping with the job of greeting everybody upstairs, we thank Claire Box and Mary Elizabeth Kunkel. Our lay ministers today, Robin Perron and Pam McMullen. Our ushers, Michael Losey, Liza Monroe and Dick Goldberg, and our coffee and hospitality are being prepared for us right now in the kitchen by Nancy Kaseff. Our tour guide a little later is John Powell, and the orchids that you see behind me were generously donated by Carlos and Melinda Moser in celebration of their 35th anniversary. So thank you to all of those volunteers. Just a couple of announcements before we proceed with the service. One is that the Sanctuary Press Conference is going to be held this Thursday, 11 a.m., at the Madison Christian Community on Old Salk Road. I think the address is 7118 Old Salk Road. If we're able to attend, please do so because our own Reverend Kelly Crocker is one of the featured speakers, and she would certainly enjoy seeing some familiar faces in the audience. Again, that's this Thursday, 11 a.m., at the Madison Christian Community on Old Salk Road. And one more event-related announcement. Tuesday, July 11, FUS will be hosting a presentation on mass imprisonment in America. This presentation will be made by Sam Mahara, who was a prisoner at the Hart Mountain Relocation Center from 1942 to 1945. Sam's presentation will talk about his own experience as an imprisoned Japanese American at Hart Mountain during World War II, why only Japanese Americans were imprisoned, typical daily conditions in those camps around the country, and today's prison camps for Central American refugees in this country. We'll have the potential implications for the registration of Muslim Americans. Again, FUS is proud to host this session here Tuesday, July 11, 6 p.m. until 8 p.m. right here. That's the end of the announcements. I invite you to sit back or lean forward to enjoy today's service. I know it will touch your heart, stir your spirits, and trigger one or two new thoughts. We're glad you're here. Happy birthday to me. We open our service with one of the connections that are made slowly. Sometimes they grow underground. You cannot tell always by looking what is happening. More than half a tree is spread out in the soil under your feet. And so penetrate quietly as the earthworm that blows no trumpet. Light persistently as the creeper that overruns the garden. Nought in the dark, use the sun to make sugar. Weave real connections. Create real nodes. Build real houses. Live a life you can endure and make love that is loving. Keep tangling, interweaving, taking more in, a thicket and a bramble wilderness to the outside, and to us interconnected with rabbit runs and burrows and lairs. Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen. Reach out. Keep reaching out. Keep bringing in. This is how we're going to live for a long time, but not always. For every gardener knows that after the digging, after the planting, after the long season of tending and growth, the harvest comes. And if you will join me in the words of affirmation that are printed in this morning's program. As we light this chalice, may its flame illuminate the inspiration waiting to be discovered in our hearts. May its light remind us of the hope that is restored by the efforts of our minds. May its warmth renew the dreams brewing in our spirits. May this flame be a symbol of all that we aspire to and might become. And now I would invite you to turn to your neighbor on this Fourth of July weekend and extend to them a warm greeting. There is a change in our program for the nine o'clock hour, thanks to an oversight on our part, our being me and Kelly Crocker, we neglected to note that there was a family waiting to dedicate a youngster at the nine o'clock hour. And so we happily this morning will be dedicating Xavier and in a few moments will be asking their families to come forward. And so on this lovely July morning, on a weekend when we do celebrate the birth of our nation, we would pause to acknowledge the presence among us of a child who is just beginning, well he's a little bit further along than that in his life's journey. In this season of sunny days and fragrant nights, we join Xavier's parents in welcoming him into our lives and into this, our spiritual home. Today we offer this family our friendship and support in the opportunities and the challenges that lie before them. We trust that the commitment to and love for each other is strong in this family and therefore it is our hope that this youngster will be blessed with a secure home with dependable caregivers that he may enjoy the freedom to develop his own personality and to shape his own unique destiny. Again, universalism holds that every person comes into this world fresh and unsullied and possessing inherent worth and dignity. And so this morning we would acknowledge that this child, Xavier, is a bona fide human being with his own special gifts, with needs and feelings that matter every bit as much as any of ours. Although he has yet to fully unfold, Xavier is already an active, vital participant in his family's home life, a full partner in the work and play of living a true heir to all of our dreams and our values. Dedication does not make this child a full fledged member of First Unitarian Society for that is a choice Xavier himself must make when he achieves the age of reason. But this ritual does affirm his place in our hearts and it affords him the special kind of emotional security and spiritual opportunity that the Unitarian Universalist congregations such as this one can provide. And so we are glad that moved by a sense of the blessings of parenthood and trust in this community, Jacob and Krista have chosen to express their own values and their progressive religious faith through this special celebration. And yet ultimately it is all of us, not just parents, but friends and relatives who are responsible for the teaching and the nurture of our children. And by presenting him to you, these parents acknowledge that Xavier is more than a purely private treasure, that he is a young soul in whom we all have a stake and for whom we all wish the best. So on this day of great promise, we not only dedicate this lovely and gifted youngster before us, but we dedicate ourselves to him and to his interests and to his welfare. And now we would invite the parents and Xavier to come forward. And as they do so, if you will look to the insert in your program, the Congregational Pledge, and you have two tasks before you, one is to substitute Xavier's name for the two that are listed. And the other thing is to change the plural pronouns to the singular. You think we can do that? All right. And so please join me. For the gift of childhood, whose innocence, laughter, and curiosity bring hope, joy, and new understanding into our lives, we lift thankful hearts. We welcome Xavier into this spiritual community and extend to his parents our love and support in the joys and challenges of caregiving. As this child grows, we will share with him our insights, values, and our dreams that he may enjoy the rich benefits of our religious heritage. And now there are several people among us who bear a special close relationship to Xavier, and I would like to acknowledge Johnna Flash, or Flash, if you would please stand. And then there are a number of grandparents and cousins and assorted relatives who are also here, and if you would please stand. And so I would ask all of you, my friends, do you take upon yourselves the privilege and the responsibility to nurture, defend, and to support the freedom and growing spirit of this child? Will you recognize his worth as a person and encourage him to speak truthfully and from the heart? Will you share with him the best that is in you, the insights, the values, and dreams that give your own lives meaning? And finally, will you help this youngster to understand not only his own rights, but also the rights of others? And if so, please say we will. More enthusiasm. Thank you. Please be seated. And now to the parents who have brought their child before us, Jacob Christa. It is your privilege and your obligation to provide an environment both of security and of challenge for your child to grow up in. And so do you commit yourself to promote this youngster's physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being? Will you respect as well as protect your son and bestow your love as a free and unmerited gift? And will you also this day reaffirm your commitment to care for and to support one another as partners in life and in parody? And if so, please say we will. In the act of dedication, we use the symbolism of water as a sign of our common heritage. There is no suggestion here of the washing away of inherited sin. This child, we believe, came into the world with all the limitations natural to our human species, but we believe that he did arrive here innocent. And so water in this context stands for vitality. It is the elixir of life, the foundation of all being. And for purposes of today's ceremony, a portion of this water has been saved from our annual water communion service that's held in late August when members bring water here from their travels across the country and throughout the globe. And so its use here reminds us of our common bond with all-embracing and ever-sustaining nature. Name this child, Xavier Leali. He dedicates you in the name of truth, the promise of love, and in the fellowship of this society. May you be granted clarity of thought, integrity of speech, and a compassionate heart. And as a token of Xavier's dedication, we give to him a rosebud. It's stuck. There you go. Fragrant symbol of beauty, promise, and love. This rose has no thorns, so it was not pricking him. And that symbolizes the better world that we would give to our children if it is in our power. Now we know that the world is not altogether as lovely as this rosebud, but we do hope that Xavier will learn to recognize the beauty and goodness that does exist, that he will grow in wisdom and compassion and add his own beauty to the world. Xavier as this rose unfolds in natural beauty, so may your life unfold. And now we would conclude our service of dedication, first of all by presenting Xavier and his parents with a special comfort item made by our shawl ministry. And maybe you can wrap up when you're watching TV and feel a little bit of the comfort of this community with your blanket. Yeah. Congratulations. And so now we'd invite you to rise in body and spirit as we sing together our hymn of dedication, number 77. So we continue with a passage from the book of Isaiah in the Old Testament, chapter 40. Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint. He does not grow weary. His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might, he increases strength. Even youth shall faint and be weary. Young men shall fall exhausted. But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. And they shall mount up with the wings of eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint. And the second reading from the contemporary book by Helen McDonald, H.S. for Hawk, published in 2014. And by the way, the name of the hawk in this reading is Mabel. McDonald writes, my old friend Martin Jones had raised both his hands in a gesture half of supplication and half of exasperation. It's like banging your head against a wall, he said. Don't do it. It'll drive you mad. I was thinking about what he said as I drove home. Clutch into fourth gear, roundabout, shift down, fierce acceleration, slight resentment. I didn't want to think about all the things the men had told me. It'll drive you mad, they said. Leave goss hawks to the goss hawk boys. Get a bird that's more sensible. Now I knew training a hawk would be hard. Goss hawks are notoriously difficult to train, to man in falconry parlance. You can man a Merlin in a few days. I once flew a Harris hawk three after only four days. But goss hawks, they're nervous, highly strong birds. It takes a long time to convince them that you are not the enemy. Nervousness, of course, is not quite the right word for a goss hawk. It's simply that they have these jacked up nervous systems, in which the nerve pathways from the eyes and the ears to the motor neurons that control their muscles have only these minor links with the associated neurons in the brain. Goss hawks are nervous because they live 10 times faster than we do. And they react to stimuli, literally without thinking. Of all hawks, the 17th century falconer Richard Blum said, she, the goss hawk, is doubtless, the most shy and coy, both toward men and dogs, requiring more of a courtship, the courtship of a mistress than the authority of a master being apt to remember any unkind or rough usage. But being gently handled, they will become very tractable and very kind to their keeper. Well, MacDonald thought to herself, kindness it will be and kindness we shall hope for. A professor of psychology at the University of Pennsylvania was released, provocatively entitled Grit, The Power of Passion and Perseverance. This book quickly rose on the non-fiction bestseller charts. Angela Duckworth's thesis was simple, and she marshaled impressive examples to support that thesis. Highly successful people, she claimed, manifest two traits that are missing in those of lesser accomplishment. First, they are very, very clear about what they want, and they are fiercely committed to its achievement. Second, they are willing to work long and hard to reach their identified goal. Taken together, these two traits constitute what Duckworth calls grit. Now, this was hardly a groundbreaking discovery. Five years earlier, another bestseller, Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell, made similar claims. Here, Gladwell invoked the 10,000-hour rule, a rule that was first proposed by two Carnegie Mellon academics, Herman Simon and William Chase, way back in the early 1970s. And in their sampling of accomplished chess players, Simon and Chase found that in order to reach the grandmaster level as a chess player, you had to be so preoccupied with the game that you would be willing to invest upwards of 50,000 hours contemplating the various configurations of the pieces on the board. 10,000 hours, they concluded, was the bare minimum needed to achieve mastery in the field of chess. The very best chess players had grit. Simon and Chase didn't give it that catchy and marketable name, however, that had to wait. Subsequent studies of experts in other fields tend to support those findings. Classically trained musicians, for instance, must spend countless hours honing and perfecting their skills. And investigators found that violin students at the prestigious Music Academy of West Berlin, all of them were unusually exceptionally talented. That's how they got into the school in the first place. But what separated the merely good from the truly great was their work ethic, their persistence in practicing. Now, Malcolm Gladwell allows that success isn't always a function of relentless work and determination, grit, in other words, an ability to jump high or to run fast. That's pretty much innate. That's a genetic gift. And while practicing as a runner or a jumper is important because the athlete's form does matter, the amount of time required to achieve excellence in these disciplines isn't nearly as great as in technical sports like baseball or golf. Gladwell writes, in complex or cognitively demanding fields, there are no naturals. You've got to have grit. And this is certainly what Helen McDonald discovered when she took on the challenge of training the notoriously skittish goss hawk. Although she had worked with other species in the past, although she had sought counsel from old hands in the sport of falconry, McDonald was still unprepared for the weeks and the months it would take to gain Mabel's trust and to establish a working partnership with this impressive raptor. And moreover, as maddening as Mabel's behavior was at times, as physically and mentally taxing as it was to put her through her paces, McDonald knew that she always had to stay absolutely calm, keep her reactivity at bay, because any sign of upset, any sign of frustration on her part would reverse any progress that they had made and perhaps sever completely the bond between the two of them. This was hardly the same as housebreaking a puppy, but McDonald persisted. And over time, in fits and in starts, human and hawk established a rapport and an understanding of their respective roles. Patience accords with the way things are, the ancient Chinese sage Lao Tzu once said, forcing a project to completion, forcing it to completion, you will ruin what is almost right. Persistence, perseverance, the patient study application of effort is often necessary for success, necessary but not sufficient, because Helen McDonald had other advantages that made it possible for her to undertake this project in the first place. She was a college teacher, and thus she was able to devote herself almost exclusively to Mabel's training between college terms, and she was also financially able to afford what could be a very expensive hobby. And this is one of the concerns that some reviewers had with Angela Duckworth's thesis, that she oversells this concept of grit, while downplaying factors that can also play a significant role in a person's success. Moreover, she seems to suggest that grit is an attribute that's within everybody's reach, that if a person doesn't have grit, it's just because they don't have the right attitude. Grittiness can be acquired, it can be inculcated, and if we appreciate its importance, we will, like a tiger mom, instill it in our children and strengthen it in ourselves. It's all just a matter of choice. It's all just a matter of willpower, Duckworth suggests. Unfortunately, as David Denvey recently observed, children are not born onto a level playing field. Now, it does make eminent sense to develop strategies for helping children become more patient, more persevering, more committed to their chosen discipline, and yet, we should be very careful about making value judgments about any given child, because some kids, as Denvey notes, suffer severe injury long before they reach school age. If they are born into poverty with absent, neglectful, or abusive parents, such youngsters will be exposed to high levels of toxic stress, Denvey says, and this in turn can cause irreversible damage to the prefrontal cortex, the seat of the individual's executive functions. And when these are compromised, neurologists tell us, a child's capacity for resilience and for perseverance can also be impacted. And much of that damage will already have been done before the child reaches nursery school age. What's called for in cases like this is more support for struggling, overstressed families, a more nuanced approach to children's behavioral deficits and recognition of the limits of any particular developmental approach. Indeed, too much emphasis on grit may induce sharper feelings of inadequacy in a child. Mike Egan is an accomplished musician, a former member of the U.S. Marine Band. He comes on strong, but the point he makes is well taken. He says, anyone who would tell a child that a sufficient work ethic is the only thing standing between him and her and world-class achievement, any parent who tells their child this, he says, should be jailed for child abuse. Even if we were lucky enough to have been spared early childhood trauma, we may need more than grit to reach our goals. Now, David Denby, who writes for the prestigious New Yorker magazine, he committed himself to a career in journalism very early on. He has worked very hard, long, and risen in his professional ranks, but he also admits that he had advantages that many other people lack. My parents carried me for a number of years, he says, as I fumbled along with my journalism career. Now, his parents were not responsible for his success, but Denby does allow that their belief in him and their support of him made it possible for him to persist. Over the years, I've run across many self-help books that claim to have discovered that singular key to leading a successful and flourishing life. But what most of them ignore is the fact that we all exist within a social milieu that can push us forward or it can hold us back. David Denby and Helen McDonald were committed, persevering people, but they both had these support systems that they could rely upon. Others may not be that fortunate, and grit alone will only carry them so far. The reality Malcolm Gladwell observes is this. The amount of practice necessary for exceptional performance is so extensive that people who end up at the top always need help. They invariably have access to lucky breaks or privileges or conditions that make all those years of practice possible. But social and economic factors aside, perseverance, this ability to stay on task over an extended period of time, that's still just one piece of the grit equation because there is also that second issue called motivation. Why are some people highly motivated and others not? Well, sometimes an untreated emotional or physical malady will keep us stuck, unmotivated. But the problem oftentimes is uncertainty. A lack of clarity about where we want to go and why we want to go there. And so we need to find our passion in order to be motivated. And once we do, it will feel natural and even joyful to persevere in the service of that passion. Now for some, this passion, this sense of calling or of mission in life comes on very early. By the age of eight or 10, a boy or girl will feel the muse stirring within or they will find great pleasure in solving mathematical puzzles. The noted entomologist, E. O. Wilson, he was an indifferent student at his South Alabama public school. As a youngster, he didn't want to be in the classroom. He wanted to spend as much time as he possibly could out in nature where he captured and he studied snakes and spiders and all kinds of other small creatures that inhabited the pine barrens in South Alabama. His passion was already clearly in evidence out in the field and he fashioned that passion into a celebrated career at Harvard University. Now his intelligence, E. O. Wilson's IQ was above average, he says, but he hardly qualified as a genius based on his IQ. But he did have grit. He had a passion for environmental studies and an indefatigable work ethic. And as a teacher, Wilson has stressed with his students, many of whom lack a clear vision for themselves, he stresses the importance of having both a good work ethic and a passion. Put passion ahead of training, he says. Feel out in any way you can what you most want to do in science or in some science related profession. Obey that passion as long as it lasts but then sample other subjects, be ready to switch if a greater love becomes apparent. As in other choices in life, he says, there is too much at stake here. Decision, hard work based on enduring passion will never fail you. E. O. Wilson's perspective as a natural scientist complements, I believe, the words that I shared earlier from the Old Testament prophet Isaiah. If we wait on the Lord, Isaiah assures us. If we trust in and rely on the Lord, we will discover unexpected strength and stamina. We shall run and not be weary. We shall walk and not faint. Now God and the individual's relationship to him or her, that is what concerns the prophet in this passage. But I believe that we could substitute the word passion for God and the passage would make equal sense. Whether or not we enjoy a personal relationship with the divine, there are those passions, a sense of calling that people possess that stir them to purposeful and persistent action. Senator Elizabeth Warren has been passionate, passionate about increasing the accountability of our financial system. John Gardner, the founder of Common Cause, was passionate about clean government and fair elections. Daniel Berrigan was passionate about nuclear disarmament and world peace. These are not sacred causes in the strict sense, but those who embraced them with passion were able to run and not faint, to walk and to not grow weary. Or as John Gardner himself once put it, reform is not for the short-winded. Unfortunately, discerning one's passion isn't always easy. And sometimes it will actually be preceded by a lengthy gestation period. E. O. Wilson suggests that passion is necessary for perseverance, that we will not be sufficiently motivated to work hard until we feel called to the task. Switch gears, he advises, before making too great an investment in any given field. Likewise, David Denby says that we need to be careful where we invest our life energy and not commit ourselves to endeavors about which we still feel ambivalent. I don't believe in banging my head against the wall, but my own experience convinces me that a passion can be acquired very slowly, very incrementally, as well as serendipitously. Because you see, when I decided long ago to begin studying for the Unitarian Universalist Ministry that was 45 years ago, I had no idea whether that choice was going to pan out. As an undergraduate, I had developed an avid interest in spirituality. But growing up, our family only attended religious services sporadically, mostly in a small, lay-led Unitarian fellowship. And all I knew at the age of 21 was that I wanted to continue investigating religion and spirituality and figure out how to make a living in the process. I couldn't imagine doing that anywhere else, but in the free, open atmosphere of a Unitarian Universalist faith community. But that was not a career decision that my secularist parents approved up or were willing to support. I was pretty much on my own. I should say Trina and my wife and I were pretty much on our own. Moreover, with so little previous exposure, I was pretty much clueless about the professional ministry. What a clergy people do. I really wasn't sure. So did I feel a passion about this perspective calling? Nah. I was curious, but I was not convicted. And even after three years of graduate study in Berkeley, California, I was still uncertain. And after three more years serving a small congregation in Northwest Iowa, that did very little to further allay my doubts. And so I dropped out of the ministry, went back to school, earned a PhD, dabbled in college teaching, for which I also felt very little passion. So here I was at age 30, still on the fence, nearly penniless after three years of graduate school. And I decided, what the heck, let's give ministry another chance. The second chapter was in its own way. Every bit is challenging, and at times every bit as disillusioning as the first. But despite my ambivalence, I worked hard, I persisted, and I made progress. Gradually I gained more confidence. And after eight years in the parish ministry, I finally was able to say to myself, Michael, you know what? You can do this stuff. And I had found my passion. Now I look back three decades into the distance, and it's clear that I needed grit to accomplish my goals in the ministry. The hard part for me wasn't grit. It wasn't the lack of perseverance, the steady application of effort. That's always been a part of my makeup. It's what helped me succeed as a distance runner in my younger days, able to put in 60 and 70 mile weeks to brave winter blizzards and oppressive summer heat to train for an important race. This discipline requires that you take the long view. Boston Marathon winter Ambi Berfoot once observed, it takes weeks and months to get into shape. Give yourselves time. Don't make hasty or unnecessary mistakes. Remember, he said, life is a marathon, it is not a sprint. I learned that life is a marathon, not a sprint. The same lesson applies to the parish ministry. Treat it like you would along a distance race. Give yourself time. But could or would I have stuck with this demanding profession on the basis of grit alone? I doubted. And perhaps the biggest difference, the second time around for me, was the network of collegial relationships that I developed and the insights I acquired from describing my struggles to other seasoned clergy. I needed that wisdom. I needed that encouragement from others, the elders in my craft that I could turn to for honest feedback. And I did need a supportive life partner who could make me aware of my rough edges and help lubricate our relationships with parishioners. Thank you, dear. There's something else I learned. Something that is important if you're going to go the distance and what it reflects, what it means to have real passion. And that is that the work has to be its own reward because what counts in the end isn't success as it's ordinarily understood. What's important is that sense of fulfillment. And in the ministry, how is that acquired? It is acquired by weaving real connections through your persistent effort and your faithful service, as Marge Piercy suggested in our opening reading. True, I have enjoyed success as a professional, but that is not what has kept me in the game for over 40 years. It's the entanglement, the recognition that ministry isn't what I do. It's what all of us do together. And that's what sustains the passion. And that's why I have persisted. Blessed be I not meant. And so now it is time for the giving and the receiving of our offering and our contributions this morning will be used to support the wonderful music program and the other programmatic elements of our congregation. Please be generous. Just outside the middle doors here and we do invite individuals if they would like to share with the congregation a joy or sorrow that has visited their life recently to enter those in the book and we share them at this time. There were no entries today. So other than happy birthday, Steve and a happy birthday in advance to my father who turns 95 tomorrow. There are no other joys to share. So we will proceed directly to our closing hymn, number 351. Close with these words from Rainer Maria Rilke. Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves. And the point is to love everything, to live the questions now and perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, live along some distant day into the answers. Please be seated for the post.