 Please join me in a moment of centering silence. The end gathering him is number 15. Good morning. Welcome to the First Unitarian Society of Madison. This is a community where curious seekers gather to explore spiritual, ethical, and social issues in an accepting and nurturing environment. Modern universalism supports the freedom of conscience of each individual as together. We seek to be a force for good in the world. I'm Maureen Friend and on behalf of the congregation, I'd like to extend a special welcome to visitors. We are a welcoming congregation, so whoever you are and wherever you happen to be on life's journey, we celebrate your presence among us. Newcomers are encouraged to stay for our fellowship hour after the service, so visit us in the library, which is directly across from me and through those center doors. Bring your drinks, bring your questions. Members of our staff and laymen's ministry will be on hand to welcome you. You may also look for persons holding teal coffee cups. These are FUS members who are knowledgeable about our faith and about our community and who would love to visit with you. Is John Powell here this morning? He'll be in later. Okay, so experience guides are generally available. John's one of those. To give a building tour after each service. So if you'd like to learn more about this sustainably designed auditorium and our National Landmark Meeting House, please meet near the large glass window on the left side of this auditorium immediately following the service. We welcome kids to stay for the duration of the service, but if either you or your child feels the need to get up and move around, there's a child haven just behind the glass on my right side, and the loja out there, the hallway is also a good place to hear and see the services. So right now is a good time to turn off your cell phone, and I'd like to acknowledge those people who helped our services run smoothly. The lay minister today is Tom Boykoff, the person who agreed to do so warmly is Patty Witty. We have four ushers today, Brian Kahnis, Tom Dolmich, Marty Hollis, and Nancy Daly. Biss Nitschke made the coffee for us, and like I said before, John is our tour guide. Please take note of the announcements in the red floors. That's the insert in the order of your service, which describe upcoming events of the society and provide more information about today's activities. Again, welcome. We hope that today's service will stimulate your mind, touch your heart, and stir your spirit. Into this house of worship, come in and find peace and unrest. Inspiration and aspiration, acceptance and challenge, come in and find light for your darkness, a friend's touch for your loneliness, music to stir your souls. Come in and let your heart sing for all the blessings that are yours on this fine, fair morning. I invite you to rise in body and spirit for the lighting of our chalice. And Maureen, if you would do the honors, please join me in the words of affirmation printed in your program. We come to this time and this place to rediscover the gift of free religious community. To renew our faith in the holiness, goodness, and beauty of life. To reaffirm the way of the open mind and the responsible heart. To rekindle the flame of memory and replant the seeds of hope. To reclaim the vision of an earth more fair and with all her people want. And in the spirit of that oneness I invite you to turn to your neighbor in exchange with them a warm greeting. Please be seated. And so on this seasonably cool spring morning, with the robins parading on the thawing's turf and the crocus just beginning to poke its head above the ground. On this lovely morning, we pause to acknowledge the presence among us of two young souls who are just beginning their life's journey. At this time of seasonal transition, we welcome Miriam and Emmett's parents in welcoming them, their children, into our lives, into this, our spiritual home, and we offer these families our friendship and our 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 the vanquish and lowny Langton families, and it is our sincere wish that these two youngsters will be blessed with secure homes, dependable caregivers, that they may enjoy the freedom to develop their own personalities and to shape their own unique destinies. Our tradition, Unitarian Universalism, holds that every person comes into this world fresh and unsullied possessing inherent worth and dignity. And so this morning, we would acknowledge that these children, Emmett and Miriam, are bona fide human beings with their own special gifts, with needs and feelings that matter just as much as any of ours. Although they have yet to fully unfold, they are already vital active participants in their family's home life, full partners in the work and play of living, and true heirs to all of our dreams and values. Dedication does not make these children full-fledged members of First Unitarian Society, for that is a choice that each of them must make for themselves when they attain the age of reason. But this ritual does affirm Miriam and Emmett's place in our hearts, and it affords them the special kind of emotional security and spiritual opportunity that a Unitarian Universalist congregation 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, Greg and Courtney, Robin and David have chosen to express their values and their progressive religious faith through this ritual. And yet, ultimately, it is all of us, friends, relatives, teachers, not just parents, who are responsible for the teaching and nurture of these children. And so by presenting them to us today, their parents acknowledge that Emmett and Miriam are more than private treasures, but they are young souls in whom we all have a stake and for whom we all wish the best. On this day of great promise, we not only dedicate these lovely gifted youngsters, but we dedicate ourselves to them and to their interests and to their welfare. And now I invite our two families to come forward, join me up here on the stage. Somebody's talkative this morning. And I would invite you now to look to your insert and join me in repeating the words for the 9 a.m. dedication. You will see Emmett's and Miriam's names. 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 Emmett and Miriam into this spiritual community and extend to their parents our love and support in the joys and challenges of caregiving. As these children grow, we will share with them our insights, our values and our dreams that they may enjoy the rich benefits of our religious heritage. And now I would like our children, those who are younger in age, to please stand. All of our kids. So my young friends, Miriam and Emmett, as you can see, are very young now, but they are already a part of this community. And in the future, you are going to have a chance, we hope, to get to know them better. And so we ask, will you befriend these children and do what you can to help them feel comfortable and welcome here at First Unitarian Society? If so, please say we will. Very good. Thank you. You may be seated. And also among us today are a number of people who bear a special close relationship to one or the other of these children. Would you please stand as I call out your name? Accompanying Miriam today are her grandparents, Cindy and Steve Venker, and Pam and Lee Erickson. And we have with us also Terry Venker. And Terry Jacobson could not be with us, but he is with us today in spirit. With Emmett, we have his grandparents, Larry and Rachel Langton. His other grandparents, Neil and Kelly Lowney. Not here? They are with us in spirit, I understand. Debbie and Joe Bossenberger. And they are with us in spirit as well. So my friends, you who are standing, do you take upon yourselves the privilege and responsibility to nurture, defend, and support the freedom and growing spirit of the child to whom you are related? Will you recognize this child's worth as a person and encourage them to speak truthfully and always from the heart? And will you share with them the best that is in you, the values and the dreams and the insights that have given your life meaning? And finally, will you help this youngster to understand not only his or her rights, but also the rights of others? If so, please say we will. Please be seated. And with Miriam, we have brother Elliot. And Elliot, will you try to be a good friend to your little sister so that you can help her to grow up safely? Oh, he's going to eat her foot. I think he's kissing the foot, so that's a good sign. And we have Milo with us, almost invisible. And Milo, you're Emmett's older brother, aren't you? So Milo, will you try to be a good friend to your little brother and do what you can to help him grow up safely? I take that as a yes. And so now to the parents who have brought their children before us, Greg, Courtney, David, Robin. It is your privilege and obligation to provide an environment both of security and of challenge for your child to grow up in. And so do you commit yourselves to promote your child's physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being? Will you respect as well as protect him or her and bestow your love as a free and unmerited gift? And do you also reaffirm your commitment to care for and to support one another as partners in life and in parenting? And if so, please say we will. So in the act of dedication, we use the symbolism of water as a sign of our common heritage. In our tradition, there is no suggestion of the washing away of inherited sin. We know that these children came into the world with all the limitations that are natural to our human species. But we also believe that they arrived here innocent. So water in this instance stands for vitality. We know it is the elixir of life and the source of all potential. And for purposes of today's celebration, a portion of this water has been saved from our annual water communion service that's held in late August, to which members of this community bring water from their travels across the continent and throughout the world. And so its use here today reminds us of our common bond with all-embracing, ever-sustaining nature. Name this child, Miriam Grace Fankl. We dedicate you in the name of truth, the promise of love, and in the fellowship of this community. Name this child, hey smiley, Emmy, Emmett Lowney Langton. We dedicate you in the name of truth, the promise of love, and in the fellowship of this community. May each of you be granted clarity of thought, integrity of speech, and above all, compassionate hearts. And as a token of their dedications, it is our practice to give each of these children a rosebud, a fragrant symbol of beauty, promise, and love. These roses have no thorns symbolizing the better world that we would give to our children if it were in our power. We know that the world is not altogether as lovely as these roses, but we hope that these children will learn to recognize the beauty and goodness that does exist, and that they will grow in wisdom and compassion and add their own beauty to the world. So as these rose unfolds in natural beauty, so may your lives unfold. We conclude our celebration with words from a former minister of First Unitarian Society, Kenneth Patton, after which we will bestow a little comfort item on our children. Kenneth Patton wrote, the child has come forth from the great womb of the earth. The child has come forth with stardust in his hair, with the rush of planets in his blood, with shining in his eyes like sunlight, with hands to help shape the world around him. When one baby is born, it is a symbol of all birth and all life, and therefore all must rejoice and all must smile, all must lose their hearts to the child. Blessed be and amen. And Dora would now like to present each of you with a comfort item that has been handmade by a member of our shawl ministry, and may you find comfort in it and remember our community as your children find warmth with these comfort items. And now as our families head back to their seats, I invite you to join me in singing together him number 338. Please be seated. We continue our service now with a personal observation by a man named Mark Jordan. He writes, the kidney donor lay half naked on the bed, covered to his waist by only a thin white sheet. He opened his eyes. He smiled groggily at me. Well, that's a pleasant surprise, I said. Hardly anyone smiles after coming out of surgery. All around us, nurses and surgical assistants counted needles and gleaming silver scalpels, and the surgeons monitored vital signs through glasses fitted with shining lights and magnifying lenses. I applied pads to the portable EKG, preparing the patient for transport to recovery. And as I did so, he continued smiling. It could have been the ketamine or the propofol in his system, and yet there seemed to be something genuinely tranquil about his expression. Aren't we the happy one, I said. Of course I am, he replied, I'm not sick. Well, that's true, I said. He was a firefighter. Had the slim, athletic frame of a man in his prime. The anesthesiologist gave me, you're just a nursing assistant, so get on with your job look. But I couldn't help continuing. I just have to ask, why did you do it? Some of the surgeons frowned disapprovingly, but I was only saying what was already on everybody's mind. Even the nurses stopped sorting instruments and paused to listen to his response. The patient's grin widened. Why did I do it? Oh. Faith, he said. Faith, faith in God, I asked. No, he said, in people. Faith in people, faith in all people. Before I could ask him to elaborate, the surgeons gave clearance for him to be wheeled into recovery. And in the hallway outside the operating room, I took off my mask and threw it in the trash, still thinking about the man's reply. And I asked myself, could I, who walk in the crowded city streets every day, could I, who are blind to everything but my destination, could I give the same answer that he gave? As I hold up in my studio apartment each night, eating ice cream and watching the news, do I have that kind of a connection with humanity? This man had seen a sick girl on the news who was asking for life, begging for life. And he'd responded by offering her one of his kidneys. He didn't even know this young woman. The exchange defied the basic laws of self-preservation. I walked down the hall and looked through the window of the operating room next door. On the table, the young girl was being prepped for surgery, orange swabs of sterile betadine were dripping down her skin, breathing tubes projected from her sleeping face. A nurse walked carefully past me, carrying a small container. And inside that container was the young girl's salvation. Friends, so good to have our talent share your gifts this morning. Students of European history pretty much agree that during the period stretching from the Renaissance to the Enlightenment, the age of faith was gradually eclipsed by the age of facts. As part of this process, Ptolemaic astronomy, a system that had reigned unchallenged for a thousand years collapsed under the weight of the solid evidence supplied by Galileo's telescope. The result was what Thomas Kuhn famously called a paradigm shift in our understanding of the universe and of our place in it. A similar transformation was taking place in the field of jurisprudence. How do we know whether a person is guilty or innocent? Well, for centuries, the strategy employed by authorities to determine guilt or innocent was called trial by ordeal. In effect, those accused of heresy or of crime were put to the test, placed in conditions that would cause them either to drown or to be seriously burned. Why? Because it was believed that God would intervene in such circumstances and preserve the innocent. If the person suffered death or grievous harm in the ordeal, well, it was because God had vouchsafed their guilt. Let God decide was the principle by which justice was served. But in time, trial by ordeal fell out of favor and a new methodology was adopted for determining guilt or innocence, first in England, then on the continent, hard evidence, the testimony of credible witnesses, for instance, that took the place of divine intervention. Trial by jury, well, that put God on the sidelines and placed judgment in the hands of men, Joe LePore writes, which was definitely an improvement, but still, it made a lot of people rather nervous. But even in the ancient world, there were those like the philosopher Lucretius who advocated a rational or fact-based understanding of the world. We must recognize and we must reject the lies preferred by priests and the dispensers of fables. We must strive to see the world as it really is, Lucretius said. Only by liberating ourselves from all these harmful illusions can we begin to lead truly happy lives because, Lucretius said, knowing the way that things really are awakens in us a sense of wonder. These days, however, a surprising number of people seem to be factually challenged, either unable or unwilling to come to terms with what the evidence clearly suggests. No, undocumented immigrants do not commit crimes at a higher rate than legal citizens. Anthropogenic climate change is not a Chinese hoax. The geological and biological evidence does not support the creation account that we find in Genesis. Donald Trump did not win the popular vote, nor was Sweden attacked by ISIS-inspired terrorists on February the 18th. So are we witnessing an end to the reign of fact? Well, there are, of course, reasons why some people simply cannot accept, as Lucretius said, the way things really are. They may do this because they know that certain facts might have the power to undermine their dearly held belief system. If reading the rocks contradicts Genesis, then biblical literalists want no part of earth science and its body of knowledge. For fundamentalists, divinely revealed scripture will always provide a truer picture of reality than anything that science can put on the table. Indeed, if the rocks contradict the biblical account, then why Lee Satan must have been messing with the rocks? For those whose confidence rests solely on this edifice, the edifice of the Bible, even the slightest inconsistency is impermissible because if there is one inconsistency, then there may be others and pretty soon the whole structure begins to totter. Tensions of this sort clashes between faith-based and fact-centered systems of knowing. That's nothing new. It's been going on for a long time. The 17th century Jewish philosopher Baroque Spinoza cast his lot with the latter, with fact-centered systems of knowing. And that caused him in the 17th century to be viewed as an atheist rather than as the empiricist that he really was. Spinoza wrote, philosophy has no end in view other than the truth. Faith, on the other hand, looks for nothing but obedience and piety. But the foregoing does not adequately describe what's going on today outside of the sphere of religion proper. Truthiness is the term Stephen Colbert coined to describe this phenomena, later updated by Kellyanne Conway when she referred to certain alternative facts that she had at her disposal. The Lord's infallible word isn't what is at stake here, defending the gospel against challenges by skeptics and disbelievers. But the polarization we see today is kind of similar. And once again, the pursuit of truth seems to have become something of a zero sum game. Either you have it or you don't. But the contest now is over the facts themselves. Which are true? Which are false? Who are the truth tellers? Who are the bald-faced liars? What accounts for this state of affairs in our scientific world? There are a couple of pieces to the puzzle that may help to explain. First, as Joe LePore tells us, there is simply data. Lots and lots of data. The place once held by facts, she writes, is being overtaken by data. And it's all available to us on the internet 24-7. So if we have a bone to pick, if we have a particular pet idea to defend, data to reinforce that position is just a couple of clicks away. Now a good bit of it is, of course, inaccurate or incomplete. Some of it is false. Some of it is malicious information planted by Russian hackers. But when we Google no LePore writes, we no longer take responsibility for the validity of our own beliefs. And we lack the capacity to see how all those bits of data fit into a larger whole. Essentially, we forfeit our reason. If the problem begins with this surfative data, it certainly doesn't end there. For we are all subject, all of us indiscriminately. We are all subject to certain mental habits that color our perception of the facts. According to Ohio State University's Gleb Sopersky, two psychological processes in particular compromise our ability to accurately assess evidence. First, he says there is the phenomenon called anchoring. Anchoring, by which we develop a belief based on our first impressions, our initial contact with an idea. And so once a belief is anchored, dislodging it is very, very difficult. The first exposure conditions all the content we receive moving forward, including any disconfirming evidence we may happen upon, Sopersky explains. And then there is what he calls the halo effect, which causes us to idealize certain individuals and to discount any information that might take them down a peg or two. Negative facts about that person, they're treated as lies or as slanders hatched by jealous or vindictive enemies. And so for those who believe in the president and are convinced that he shares their interests, nothing will cause them to waver. Not a history of sexual exploitation, a series of business bankruptcies or a string of broken promises. Come what may, President Trump will remain the white knight in shining armor, the halo firmly in place over his head. Now some of us may say, we don't treat our heroes like that, the people we admire. We're not guilty of this halo effect, but I suspect that we are all subject to this thing called anchoring. Because when we choose one source of information over another, Rachel Maddow over Sean Hannity, Nation Magazine over the weekly standard, well that affects our beliefs. Having been exposed early on to a particular point of view, we are likely to adopt it as our own and maintain it even when the evidence might point another way. So for instance, we were told for many, many years that consuming fatty foods was bad for us. And even after nutritional science concluded that some fatty foods have definite dietary value, a lot of people continue to eschew them. That's called anchoring. And then finally, there is the act of lying itself, playing false with the facts as it were. Writing in the Scientific American, Jeremy Adam Smith acquaints us with three different kinds of lies that we can tell each other. There are black lies. Black lies are purely selfish and they do serve to alienate other people. There are white lies. White lies are generally altruistic and they are told to spare somebody else pain or embarrassment. This much is obvious. We know what black lies are and what white lies are. But then Adam says, there are blue lies. Blue lies are kind of a hybrid variety that is altruistic and selfish at the same time. So when one utters a falsehood to further the interest of the group to which they belong, they are telling a blue lie. So if you belong to a sports team that cheats and you lie about the cheating, yes, it's unethical, but you are helping your team to win. Blue lies are altruistic in that they create stronger bonds of social solidarity, but only among those who belong to your group. Blue lies pull some people together and they drive others away, Smith writes. And thus they can become very potent weapons in intergroup conflict. And blue lies have become a commonplace in contemporary political culture where they are better known as alternative facts. So these then are some of the social and psychological forces that help to explain the current decline in the currency of fact. But the problem is actually more complex and it's deeper than this because ironically, when there ceases to be widespread agreement over what constitutes a valid fact, then people begin gradually to lose faith. And it can be very challenging to live in what is increasingly becoming a faithless world. To understand what we're up against, I need to talk just momentarily about the nature of faith and how it really does differ from belief or conviction. When Henry David Thoreau derided it, writing that there is no creed so false but faith can make it true, that he gave voice to a common misconception. Thoreau, like many of us, equated faith with exceptional credulity, with an intellectual stance that cannot withstand scrutiny and examination. But the biblical scholar Gunther Bornkamp points out that this is not the way that faith was understood by the apostle Paul, for instance, or by members of the early Christian community. The Greek term that they used was pistos, which literally meant in the Greek trustworthy or that which you can rely upon. It had nothing to do with general opinions and convictions, Borcombe argues. Truly understood, faith is this inner attitude, a disposition not of the mind, but of the soul. The progressive-minded Roman Catholic theologian, Hans Kung, put it this way. Faith is not an irrational, blind, daring leap. It is a trust that is responsible to the eyes of reason and grounded in reality itself. It does not deny the way things really are. Exactly, faith has more to do with trust than with belief, per se, and this is why today we are suffering from a crisis of faith as well as a crisis of fact. What do the opinion polls tell us about faith in America's major institutions? At almost every level, we find extraordinarily high degrees of mistrust and cynicism toward government, toward religious organizations, corporations, the major media, schools, teachers, and even today the scientific community. Just about the only entities that receive high approval ratings today are first responders and the military owing to the extraordinarily positive publicity that they routinely receive. Now, understandably, there are some valid reasons for the collapse of faith in our vital institutions. Where government is concerned, think Vietnam, think Watergate, think the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, think Congressional gridlock, the nation's banks. They engineered the subprime mortgage meltdown, child sexual abuse, sully the reputation of faith communities. But this steady drumbeat of negative reporting and commentary has also played a role causing many Americans to conclude that these institutions are incorrigible and such a belief is now anchored in many people's minds and it will be very hard to root it out. And this loss of faith in the institutions that serve us then creates a more generalized negativity in the public mind. We lose faith in each other. The faith that that young kidney donor still retained. We no longer trust that despite our differences we are all in this together. And the mutual disdain felt by America's urban and rural residents, that reflects this erosion of faith between and among the citizenry. Faith is, as I mentioned, it is an inner attitude. It is a way of being in the world. But with each new disappointment, with each fresh injury, it strength wanes the scope of our faithlessness expands. Now today we know that we are in the throes of a serious opioid epidemic. And we know that many Americans have come to rely on antidepressants and sedatives just to get through the day. And such developments reveal a basic insecurity about life itself and about the human prospect. Michael Ignatieff says that we are currently living through an extraordinary, if largely imperceptible, destruction of faith in the future. The list of what needs to be done he writes here and now. The list of what needs to be done to make modernity fulfill its emancipatory promise, that list is long and accomplishing any of it depends on the faith we have in the capacity of men and women to work together to secure their objectives. So what's the answer? How do we begin restoring people's faith in the American project? Well to begin with I think we can all try to become more aware of our own biases and the mechanisms that our minds use to create and to maintain those biases. This would allow us I believe to become more humble about our convictions and to adopt what the 20th century philosopher Karo Popper called an attitude of reasonableness. I may be wrong, you may be right and by any effort we may together get nearer to the truth. That's the attitude of reasonableness. Easier said than done of course. But as more and more of us are able to model such open-mindedness, others may in fact begin to emulate it. And there's another, a second kind of openness that we can begin to practice. One that the Jewish theologian Martin Buber recommends in the name of faith. And this particular quotation is printed on the front of your program. Real faith means holding ourselves open to the unconditional mystery which we encounter in every sphere of our life and which cannot be compressed into any formula. What he's saying here is that when it comes right down to it every human being is something of a mystery. And so to have faith in that person means to adopt an open receptive attitude toward that mystery. Because if we presume to know everything there is to know about a particular person or a particular class of persons, then we strip them of their mystery and in the process called into question their inherent worth and dignity. I know who you are. And so why should I listen to your story? Why should I entertain your ideas? In honoring another's mystery, we open ourselves to new possibilities and even to new life, which in Martin Buber's thinking is really a profound act of faith. And then finally, we must not allow ourselves to succumb to what the late forester church called the sin of sophisticated resignation. The sin of sophisticated resignation. As astute, well-informed people appalled by the state of the world, we may be tempted from time to time to throw up our hands and simply say, ain't it awful? Isn't it bad? The world's going to hell in a handbasket. And yes, there is a good deal out there that we might judge to be awful, but dwelling on that fact only contributes to a loss, a further loss of our collective faith. So let's make an effort to lift up some of the more positive contributions that the institutions we depend upon are making. Our schools, our businesses, our public servants, our faith communities, without which our lives would be so much poor. These gifts aren't that hard to find if we take the time to look for them. So let me conclude with a few words from the esteemed African-American minister, teacher and mentor to Martin Luther King, Howard Thurman. Thurman writes, during these turbulent times, we must remind ourselves repeatedly that life goes on. Because this, at times, we are apt to forget. The mass attack of disillusionment and despair distilled out of the collapse of hope that may leave us with this sense of futility. But that is a great deception. There is no need for us to fear evil, Thurman says. There is every need to understand what it does, how it operates in the world, what it draws upon to sustain itself. But the evil of the world must not be allowed to move from without to within. To drink in the beauty that is within our reach. To clothe one's life with simple deeds of kindness. This is always the ultimate answer to the great deception. Blessed be God, amen. You will note from your program that our offering in its entirety this weekend will be devoted to the Unitary Universal Service Committee, and you certainly can learn more about their work from the insert that was included in your program today. Please be generous. We gather each week as a community of memory and of hope, and we bring to this place our joys and sometimes our broken selves. We seek here a place where these experiences of ours might be celebrated and lifted up and shared. In our Cares of the Congregation book today, there were two entries. Marty Hollis offers thoughts and prayers on the 12th anniversary of her mother's death. So we join Marty in mourning that loss. And then thoughts and prayers for the family of our aunt, Mary Paul, who passed away on March 27th after a six year battle with cancer. Not sure who entered that particular one, but the family of Mary Paul, we celebrate them and care for them in this time of loss as well. And we also hold in our hearts any unexpressed joys or sorrows that might have occurred to you during the course of today's service. Let us now experience just a moment of silence and the spirit of empathy and of hope. By virtue of our brief time together today, may our burdens be lightened and our joys expanded. Please join me now in singing our closing hymn number 341. Please be seated for the benediction on the postlude. Sophia Lyon Fos was a notable educator in our tradition during the 20th century. These are her words. The religious way is the deep way. The way with a growing perspective and an expanding view. The religious way sees what physical eyes alone fail to see, the intangibles at the heart of every phenomenon. The religious way touches universal relationships and goes high and wide and deep. It expands our feelings of kinship with all that is. We have therefore gathered this morning as a company committed to this way, to the religious way. Blessed be and amen. How can we be so happy? Happy? Come let's make some r-