 As you're getting situated, please join in a moment of centering silence so we can be fully present with each other this morning. And for some more centering, as a group, let's turn to the words for our in-gathering hymn, which you'll find inside your order of service. Well, that was fun at 9 o'clock, and it's fun now to sing that song. Thank you, everybody. Good morning, and welcome to the March 1 service here at First Unitarian Society. It's March 1, or as we call it in my home, the month of the month. And here we are at First Unitarian Society, where independent thinkers gather in a safe, nurturing environment to explore issues of social, spiritual, and ethical significance as we try to make a difference in this world. I'm Steve Goldberg, a proud, pledging member of this congregation. And I'd like to extend a special welcome to two groups today. One is the group of people who are watching this at home. Hello. And also to any newcomers, guests, and visitors, if this is your first time at First Unitarian Society, you'll find, as many of us have, that this is indeed a very special place. And if you would like to learn more about our very special buildings, we offer very special guided tours after every service. Just gather over here by the windows, and we will take care of you after the service. But during the service, this would be a perfect time to silence all those pesky electronic devices that might interfere with your ability to really enjoy the service. So please take a moment and perform that simple but essential task right now, if you haven't already done so. Thank you. If you are accompanied today by a youngster, and that youngster would prefer to enjoy the service from a more private place, we offer two alternatives. One is our child haven at the back corner of the auditorium, and the other is some comfortable seating out in the lobby, or as we call it, the commons, from which you and your youngster can hear and see the service. This is the case every weekend. Our service is brought to us by a dedicated team of folks whom we call volunteers, and their names deserve to be read out loud so that you can thank them a little bit later. Operating the sound system so that you can hear everything clearly is Mark Schultz. Our lay minister today is Ann Smiley. Today, unlike any other day, we have five ushers, five to handle this unruly crowd. Okay, now you're supposed to hold your applause till the very end of the service. As I said, it's an unruly crowd, so it's a good thing we have five ushers, and they are Melinda Carr, Jennifer Boullet, Bob Bozeki, Stan Inhorn, and Shirley Inhorn, and Stan wants to announce that even though he's officially an usher, Shirley is doing all of the work for him. Our hospitality and coffee are provided by Rick DeVita and his daughter Elena Marie DeVita. The flowers that you see behind me were lovingly donated by Chuck Stonesifer in memory of his late wife Janet, and in honor of their grandson Leonardo. I'd like to meet Leonardo someday. And our tour guide after the service is Mark Hill. Three announcements. One is that if you're interested in attending the spring retreat, the adult spring retreat with Michael and Trina Shuler, they are hosting it April 10th through 12th at Green Lake, very popular event, and you have a chance to register now. The early bird registration fee is good until March 8th. Again, it's being held at the Green Lake Pilgrim Center April 10th through 12th hosted by Michael and Trina. This announcement, and you'll hear more about this a little bit later in the service. As many of you know, the FUS annual pledge campaign is starting right now, and if you make your pledge by midnight tonight, guess what you're eligible for? You're eligible for a drawing for a $100 gift certificate at Lombardino's restaurant here in Madison. So if you haven't brought your pledge form with you, fret not, there is an ample supply at the main table in the commons during the break. So please pick one up, register your pledge by midnight tonight, and you become eligible not only for a $100 gift certificate to Lombardino's, but freedom from further solicitations, mailings, and calls. So eat well, and you enjoy a little more freedom if you pledge by midnight tonight. The last announcement concerns the number 54. There are 54 days left until what? Cabaret. Yes. This is the only organization in the world where cabaret is not only a noun, it is also a verb, because we know how to cabaret at the First Unitarian Society. April 24th, Friday evening, 54 days from now, this entire place is going to be converted into one huge cabaret. It's going to be a nonstop talent cavalcade, this stage being the primary venue for talent. Dan Broner and some others are putting together the entertainment for us right now. There's going to be a new menu, including both healthy and unhealthy food. That should draw some more people, right? It's a party, and it's the kind of thing where when you drive home from cabaret April 24th, you're going to be saying to yourself. That was the most fun I have had in a long, long time. They should do this more than once a year. So come and see why my kids still refer to FUS as the Cabaret Church. April 24th, Friday evening, please put it on your calendar. More details available later. And speaking of later, please sit back or lean forward to enjoy this morning's service. I know you will find that it will touch your heart. Hear your spirit and trigger one or two new thoughts. We're glad you're here. W.D. Bum-ba-da-buddy and up-ba-da-dee Bum-ba-da-da-dee-dee-ba-da-dee Bum-ba-da-dee-dee The love is raining to the sky I would you baby Give a flower what to drink I would you baby Distant deserts The rain has to fall Let it fall Love would you baby Come and die I'll grab you baby D-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d Bum-ba-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-deee Put away the pressures of the world that ask us to perform. To take up masks. To put on brave fronts. Silence the voices that ask you to be perfect. This is a community of compassion and welcoming. You do not have to be anything to earn the love contained within these walls. You do not have to be braver, smarter, stronger, better than you are in this moment to belong here with us. You only have to bring the gift of your body, no matter how able, your seeking mind, no matter how busy, your animal heart, no matter how broken. Bring all that you are and all that you love to this hour together. Please rise now and body your own spirit for our chalice lighting. And join me in unison in the words printed in your order of service. Does the match love the wick? Does the wick love the wax or the air it consumes? Yes, without question. To melt together, to burn together, to change together, the pieces of the candle must love each other, though not necessarily wisely and not necessarily well. And now I invite you to please turn and greet your neighbors. I would like to invite the children to come on up for the message for all ages. There you are. I knew that there were more of you. Come on up. Take a seat. So I have what I hope is going to be kind of a fun story for you today. I'm hoping that you'll all be able to help me tell this story this time. Anywhere you like. So later today, the adults and I are going to be talking a little bit about a word that maybe you've heard before called acceptance. Can you raise your hand if you've ever heard the word acceptance before? And that's OK if you haven't. You've heard it before? Yeah. So some people have heard the word acceptance before. Do you know what that word means? Any ideas? No. You don't know what it means. So I'm going to tell you a story real quick that talks a little bit about when I had to experience acceptance in my life. And then I'm going to tell a story and you're going to help me tell it that we'll look at that a little bit more deeply, OK? So when I was about your age, I was sometimes made fun of. People sometimes made fun of my hair and they made fun of my clothing. They made fun of the way I talked and the things that I like to play with and called me names that were not very nice. And I really didn't feel very good. And I'm wondering if any of you have ever been teased or bullied like that. Can you raise your hand if you have? Yeah. And how about the adults? Why don't you look out there? Has anybody out there ever been teased or bullied? Yeah, look at all of them, see? So maybe you've had to do something then that I've had to do, which was when I was being teased as a child, I had to learn to accept myself. I had to learn that I am still a good person no matter what other people say about me. And I had to learn that I'm worthwhile and that maybe the things that people are making fun of me for are actually good things that I don't deserve to be made fun of because of them. So the story that we're gonna tell a little bit together is a story about that and it's called Weird by Aaron Frankel, which I've adapted today. And the way that I would like you to participate is every time I go like this, I want you to say weird as though maybe it's something that you don't like or that you find a little strange. So let's try that real quick and yeah, you can make faces and yeah, that's good. So let's try real quick. I'm gonna put my hands out and we're gonna say it all together. So weird. Very good, let's try it one more time. Weird, good job. Okay, so my name is Louisa and I have a problem. There was a girl in my class named Sam who thinks everything I do is weird. I raise my hand to answer a question in math and she says I'm weird. I guess I'll keep my answers to myself. I try to tell a funny joke at lunch and she says I guess I'll just be quiet. I give my mom a kiss when she picks me up from school and Sam says I'm maybe mom can wait for me in the car. I say something in Spanish to my dad. Hola papa and she says, guess it's hi dad from now on. I wear my favorite pink sparkly scarf. Guess I won't wear it again. It's strange, I keep changing what I do but she doesn't change at all. It's like weird is the only word she knows and I don't know any words. I don't even feel like myself anymore. Everyone misses the way I used to be, everyone including me. Mom wants to know what's the matter, dad wants to know if everything is all right. My friends say they miss my funny jokes and wonder where my sparkly pink scarf went. But Sam just says, who should I talk to? What should I say? What did I do to deserve this? I wish it would all just go away. Should I maybe talk to my mom? What do you think? When I tell my mom that I have a problem that there's this girl at school who is so mean to me, she says it's not your fault, Luisa. You are wonderful just the way you are. After talking to my mom, I've been thinking that maybe it's time for another change. I think I'm gonna wear that scarf all the time. Only this time before Sam could say anything, I said, boy, does it feel good to wear this again. I told another funny joke at lunch and laughed along with my friends. When she said, I kept on laughing. I didn't hide my feelings when I got the right answer in math either. I told my dad I loved him in Spanish. I let my mom know how happy I was to see her when she picked me up from school. I even said, see you later, Sam. I discovered something really amazing. The more I act like I don't care what she says, the more I really don't care. And the more I, that she thinks I don't care, the more she leaves me alone. Now that's really thank you for helping tell the story today. And now we're going to sing you out to your classes with number 346. Have a good class. Bye. First reading today should hopefully be a little bit familiar to some of you. It's from the reflection that Michael offered a couple of weeks ago on Lincoln and Charity and is very relevant to my reflection today. Talking about the essence of charity, Michael said, it's about more than doing nice things for people on occasion or contributing to a few causes with which we sympathize. Our English word for charity comes from the Latin karus, which means deer. The noun form karitas translates as charity and appears numerous times in the Latin Bible. But karitas and charity are themselves translations of the Greek word agape, which the New Testament writers used to denote a sacrificial kind of love that can be transformative. According to the apostle John of all the gifts of the spirit, agape is the one that Christians should be the most eager to obtain. And now faith, hope and love abide. These three, and the greatest of these is love, Paul tells the Corinthians. Agape describes God's love for humans and God expects humans to show the same kind of consideration to each other. More recent additions of the English language Bible have struck the word charity and replaced it with love. Good arguments can be made for either choice, but the problem with love is that the English word lacks the precision of the Greek language in which the New Testament was originally composed. Love for the Greeks could mean Eros, the passionate carnal or romantic love that we celebrate on Valentine's Day. Eros is never mentioned in the Greek New Testament. Philea, the love that binds siblings or close friends together is cited on occasion. Philea exists between kindred spirits, but it excludes strangers or more casual acquaintances. Agape differs from both Eros and Philea because it is indiscriminate and disinterested. Agape rejects no one and expects nothing. If you love those who love you, what merit is there in that? Jesus asks his followers in the Gospel of Luke. After all, even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who love you, who do good to you, what merit is there in that? After all, even sinners do as much. If you lend those from whom you hope to gain, what merit is there in that? Even sinners lend to sinners in order to get much in return. But I say, love your enemies and do good and lend without thought for yourself. That way you'll be children of the most high, who is generous to the ungrateful and the wicked. This second very brief reading is from Lila Gandhi's book, Effective Communities. Lila Gandhi is the great-granddaughter of Mahatma Gandhi. Friendship Aristotle writes seems to be the bond that holds communities together and lawgivers seem to attach more importance to it than to justice. This nativist conception of friendship developed in historic conditions of extreme vulnerability for the minuscule Greek city-state borrows heavily, if wishfully, from the sparse vocabulary of affiliation, which makes claims such as, a friend is another self, the basis of affection is equality and similarity, like is a friend to like, and so on. We need another model of the political, independent from the burdensome language of naturalness, sameness, and origin. For the moment we need not stray beyond the confines of post-socratic philosophy. For the Aristotelian model of Philia, with which we are quarreling, finds its most immediate challenge in the fragments of Epicurus and his followers, in which friendship is construed very differently as Philizania or love for guests, strangers, and foreigners. And in sharp contrast to Aristotle, this ethic of fidelity to strange friends is predicated upon a principled distaste for the racial exclusivity of the polis. Derrida's notes on ethics as hospitality are opposite here. The stranger, here the awaited guest, is not only someone to whom you say come, but enter. Come in. Come inside me. Come within me. Not only toward me, but within me. Occupy me. Take place in me. Song, thank you for your lovely song. You've lied at all of the day, but tell me, tiny songbird, learn some of the games we play for your hymn to joy. Listen, and you change this life for me. For in your song, I see a more gentle ne'er face. I see, look, I never count the lovely songs you sung. If you ever have to fly, Unitarian Universalists have had many names over the course of our history. Some we gave ourselves, others were given to us. We've been called Ariomaniacs, the name given to the proto-Unitarian followers of that great heretic Arius around the time of the Council of Nicaea. We've been called Puritans. We've been Congregationalists, Unitarians, Universalists, ultra-universalists, Restorationists, the love people. That's right, I said it, the love people. Mind you, we're not exactly knowing all over the world and certainly not all over the association as the love people, but that's what some local activists in Phoenix, in Phoenix, Arizona, started calling us. They saw us wearing these bright yellow shirts with love emblazoned on the chest for standing on the side of love at these protests and actions in rallies, right? And so they dubbed us the love people. Mind you, they also dubbed us the yellow shirts, which doesn't have quite the same ring, but the love people. Wow, did it feel good to be called that? The love people. How's that for a statement of religious identity? What religion are you? No, I'm with the love people. Now, when I give people my elevator speech, the one where you explain in the time that it takes to write in an elevator to someone who has never heard of Unitarian Universalism, what UUism is, I always try to make sure to drop something about love in there. It works much better than trying to explain that we're a post-Christian quasi-syncretistic faith or that we're the most protesting of the Protestants or the reformation that keeps on reforming. Yet folks new to Unitarian Universalism might be somewhat confused by a name like the love people if, say, our seven principles are all that they know about us. Have you ever noticed that not one of the principles actually mentions the word love? Ain't in there. There's a whole bunch of things that are necessary to love, like, you know, respect. There's compassion and acceptance, but no love. Respect, compassion, and acceptance are important, of course. I don't think that love can exist without them. In fact, if anyone ever tells you that they love you and yet does not show you compassion or acceptance, I tell you that is not love. Yet as important as respect, acceptance, and compassion are to love, they're not quite the same as love. I don't know if any of you or your kids have had the great fortune to have gone through our whole lives, the Lifespan Human Sexuality Program jointly created by the UUA and UCC. I know that we do a slightly different version of the program here that's a little bit broader. I still remember the riddle scale taught in my own young adult owl class. The scale is used to rank different degrees of discriminatory and anti-discriminatory attitudes, that the very, very bottom of the scale is repulsion, and at the top is nurturance. Acceptance lands somewhere about halfway up the scale, right above tolerance. According to this scale, when we accept one another, we imply that there is still something that needs acceptance, even if it is not something that we're trying to change about the other person. On Facebook the other day, I witnessed one friend saying to another, you are stubborn and close-minded, but I love you. I know that your flaws are part of what makes you who you are and I would not change you for the world. To which the other guy responded, you're a jerk, bro, but I love you too. Now I know these two guys and I know that they really do love one another really, but despite their words about love, this is not a demonstration of their love, only of their acceptance of one another, their willingness to overlook one another's flaws as they perceive them for the sake of their friendship. Acceptance at its best is a recognition that another human being is a whole person, a being of strengths, weaknesses, and infinite value. It is about respecting a person for who they are and making a real effort to understand where they're coming from, even if you don't like it or you disagree. In the children's story today, Sam needed to learn to accept Luisa. She did not need to like Luisa's scarf or language or even to like Luisa. She just needed to stop holding those things against her, to stop bullying Luisa, yes, but also to stop trying to change her. Now I'm not saying that acceptance is incompatible with love or that it cannot be a very, very good thing. I hope, I truly hope, that we all know what it feels like to be accepted. It is incredibly healing sometimes to know that you do not have to be perfect, that you are needed, that you are enough, that you are beautiful, flaws, and all. It is wonderful to be in a space among people where you can be your full self without fear, where you don't have to check yourself at the door. God, that feels so good. At the same time, sometimes mere acceptance can wrinkle. Acceptance carries a tone of judgment with it, a tone that can be rather annoying sometimes or even hurtful if a person doing the judging then tries to claim the moral high ground by claiming to love you anyway. You're overweight, but I love you anyway and wouldn't change anything about you. You're gay, but I still care about you and won't hold it against you. There is nothing, nothing wrong with being overweight or gay or black or transgendered or poor or disabled. These are not flaws to be overlooked. And yet when a person makes statements about you, like the ones I just shared, it can put you in a position where it feels difficult or even petty to take issue with what they've said because in a sense they've taken the topic off the table of discussion. Their unfair judgment of you is framed in a way to make it seem on the surface at least, loving and kind and beyond reproach, perhaps even virtuous. You may feel forced to accept their judgment to not argue back or defend yourself. Mere acceptance then can be loving and healing, but it can also be hurtful and can shut down rather than open up conversation. On that riddle scale I mentioned earlier, there are four steps above mere acceptance. There's support and admiration and appreciation and then nurturance. When we support someone, we may still be judgmental, but we at least strive not to act on our prejudice and we do what we can to create a safe and welcoming space for people to be themselves without fear of judgment. Even the passive aggressive kind of judgment we can sometimes get with mere acceptance. When we move from support to admiration, we reach a place where we may still sometimes be uncomfortable or judgmental about another person, but we recognize and admire the strength that it takes in order to be oneself in a judgmental and often an oppressive society. And we are willing to examine our own judgmental attitudes and prejudices. After admiration comes appreciation, a person at this point recognizes, intellectually at least, that other ways of being are valid and valuable and learn to appreciate difference. Though they may sometimes catch themselves being judgmental, they actively work to dismantle their prejudices and those of others. And finally there's nurturance. When we nurture others, we celebrate and support and help them grow in their differences and recognize that those differences are vitally, vitally needed in the world, in our society, and in our congregation. We can move beyond acceptance to support, admiration, appreciation, and nurturance. And I think we can even move beyond nurturance to that four letter word that we so love. Love. No, not only can we move beyond acceptance and nurturance, but we are called to walk that path, to truly become the love people. Now I don't mean to imply that UU congregations are loveless places or that our faith is a loveless faith if our seven principles fail to mention the word love. Even if we sometimes fail to live up to our desire to be radically welcoming communities, we still strive to be beloved communities. Take this congregation. Since 1879 in our continuing bond of union, we have pledged to accept into membership those of whatever theological opinion who wish to unite with us in the promotion of truth, righteousness, reverence, and charity among all. Charity as our earlier reading from Michael's recent sermon reminds us is love. This congregation does not unite for acceptance among all, but charity among all. Love among all. And throughout the UUA, many congregations covenant together using El Griswold Williams words, beginning, love is the doctrine of this church. No, we are not loveless places we UU congregations. We talk about love all the time. It may not be a word that appears in our seven principles, but it's all over the place in other parts of UU religious life. It's in our second and fourth sources where we refer to the transforming power of love and the call to respond to God's love by loving our neighbors as ourselves. And it is in our hymns. We sing after the message for all ages today about bringing a song of love and a rose in the wintertime. And in our hymnals, there are many others, so many others. But most of all, it is in the way that we treat one another time and time again. Yes, there are congregations that fall short sometimes. Congregations are made up of people and people sometimes make mistakes. But I have heard so many, so many people testify to the loving care that they have been shown by their congregations who make them feel held and needed and welcome. Who nurture them as people and want them to flourish, to have life and to have it more abundantly. Who see their differences as beautiful, as strengths, as vitally necessary to the wellbeing of our congregations and our society. Who celebrate and nurture and love their differences, love every part of who they are. In those times, we are the love people. But what kind of love is this? When I talk about love, I'm not talking about romantic love or the kind of love that a parent has for a child. And I'm not talking about the kind of love that a friend has for another friend, the kind of love based on shared interests or shared traits that Lila Gandhi was criticizing in that excerpt from effective communities that we heard earlier. The kind of love I'm talking about has nothing to do with what you feel or do not feel. It is not warm fuzzies or burning passion or tender care, but a commitment to act for the wellbeing of others. Love in action. It's the kind of love that is freely and abundantly given without the expectation that anything will be given in return. It is unattached and unconditional, like charity or karytas in Christianity, agape in Greek thought, has said in Judaism and Dona in Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism. The love I'm talking about is the kind of love that Lila Gandhi pointed us toward in the earlier reading. The love that not only welcomes the stranger, not only invites the stranger into our community, but invites them into our very selves, invites them to not only become a part of us, but to change us. How's that for spiritual growth? Opening your heart so fully to another that they become a part of you, making you more than who you were before. How can a person possibly go through anything so marvelous, so magnificent, and remain unchanged? Have you ever felt love like that? Love that cracks you open so that others can reach down deep inside you, bringing forth a whole other person that you never even knew could possibly exist? That kind of love rushes in when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable around one another, to risk the possibility of judgment, to reveal our full selves, to risk being hurt. And more than that, it requires us to accept change. Change can be scary, letting people in inevitably changes us without anyone intending to change anyone else. That's the paradox of love. We love one another as we are. Without expectation of change and without expecting anything at all in return. And yet, by so loving and so being loved, we are healed, we are nurtured, we become whole, and in so doing, we are transformed. That's the kind of love that we are called to share with one another and the world. That's the kind of love that can help move us beyond mere acceptance. That's the kind of love that can help transform us into a whole new people. I love people. And now I invite you to share in this morning's offering. Today's outreach offering will be shared 50-50 with Whiskers. Knowing the important bond that exists between a pet and its owner, the organization's mission is to provide free veterinary care to the animals of homeless individuals or others who are unable to pay for needed care. Please give generously. Good morning, everyone. My name is Karen Timberlake, and I am one of three co-chairs for this year's annual campaign that you heard Steve allude to a little bit at the opening of the service. And I appreciate having a chance to take just a couple of minutes to talk with you about what First Unitarian Society has meant to me and to my family. And I also wanna start by saying thank you to those of you who have already made a pledge and for others, I'd invite you to just think with me for a minute about what it can mean to make a pledge of financial support to this important community. Our campaign theme this year is investing in the power of us all. When we give, we change lives. And ever since I was asked to help with this role, I have been reflecting a little bit on how my life has been changed and how the life of my family has been changed over the now 20 years that my husband and I have been members. And here are just a few examples. First Unitarian Society has been a consistent source of both intellectual and spiritual challenge for us. That was true when we were putting together our wedding ceremony with Michael Shuler 20 years ago. And it was true today. Just think about the message that Sasha shared and all of the thoughts that I'm sure it has triggered. We find as a family now that many of our favorite rituals and traditions have their roots here. Our children shop with us every year as part of the family to family Christmas. We connect with friends through the indispensable ritual of the second Saturday potluck. I am a Saturday person and invite you, if you've ever thought about checking out Saturday, the second Saturday of the month is a great time to come join us. We have adapted one of the chalice lightings that we learned here as a table grace and we've taught it to our extended families. And that's meaningful to us because neither my husband nor myself was raised Unitarian and so it's been nice to share a bit of this tradition with our extended families. And it's the chalice lighting that ends. We kindle this light in celebration of the life that we share. And that's really the essence of it for us. This is a place that fuels and strengthens the life that we share together. We find that First Unitarian Society grounds us is a source of peace and hope and rejuvenation and is a touchstone for us as a couple and as a family. So we make a pledge every year because we derive immeasurable value from this community. To paraphrase the lovely song from the musical Wicked that gets performed here every now and then, I know that by being a part of First Unitarian Society our lives are changed for the better and our lives are changed for good. And I know that our experience is shared by many of you. For many of us pledging is an expression of how we feel about this place. It's an expression of our love for each other and for this community to Sasha's message of this morning. We find that the services, the music, the religious education programs, the community outreach, the social justice have changed our lives and we want to be a part of supporting First Unitarian Society in changing the lives of others and in really being that force for good that we seek to be in the world and that we talk about at the beginning of services. Others of us may come to the pledging decision perhaps more from a place of math and facts and logic and that's okay, we have that for you too. In this lovely brochure that you'll see out in the lobby on the inside will be all of the charts and graphs and numbers you could possibly want to know where the money comes from, where it goes, what it's used for, how important it is. Let me pick out just one fact to share with you that resonated with me. Two thirds of the church's operating budget comes from pledge revenue, two thirds. So we in the congregation, whether we are longtime members, new members, affiliates, friends, people who drop in now and then, all of us, we represent the financial foundation on which everything that you love and value about this place is built. If we want more, more classes, more music, more programs, more work on racial equity, more community outreach, the source of more is us. And even if we want to stay the course, the source of stay the course is us and it is those annual pledges that we make every year. So for you, maybe pledging is about a deep commitment and love for this place. Maybe it's about facts and math and logic, maybe it's both, it doesn't matter. The important takeaway for me is that we all are co-creators with the staff and with each other in the life of this place. As much as I love the musical Wicked and that song, this is not theater. We are not an audience waiting to be entertained. We are participants in this place and we have to invest. We have to invest our time, our ideas, our money in order to share in the community that is First Unitarian Society. So during this year's campaign, if you haven't yet made a decision to pledge, please take a few minutes to reflect on all of the ways that your life and the lives of those you care about have been touched by being a part of First Unitarian Society. Think about how your life has been changed and how you've seen the lives of others be changed. And please consider what you might be willing to give to support and sustain this important community because together we really do change lives for the better and for good. Thank you. May we leave this place seeking an uncharted and freely chosen way to wholeness knowing we have companions along the way. Amen, blessed be, go in peace and please remain seated for the postlude. What the world needs now is love, sweet love. It's the only thing that there's just too little love. What the world, not just for some, but forever. We don't need another mountain. There are mountains and hillsides enough to climb. There are oceans and rivers enough to cross. Enough to last till the end of time. What though it's the only thing that there's just too little love. What the world, not just for some, but need another meadow. Worn fields and wheat fields enough to grow. There are sunbeams and moonbeams enough to shine. Oh listen now, if you want to know, it's the only thing that there's just too little love. Not just for some, but forever.