 We're never ready and I think we're on a long list. At least the last two is not all of them. This is why it doesn't last as far as two and a half. That was an excellent one. Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you... so we can all really get engaged here in the service. And now let's be musically present with the in-gathering hymn printed in your program. 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. Unitarian universalism supports the freedom of conscience of each individual. As together, we seek to be a force for good in the world. My name is Rob Savage. I'm president of the Board of Trustees here. And on behalf of the congregation, I would like to extend a special welcome to visitors. We are a welcoming congregation. So whoever you are and wherever you happen to be in your life journey, we celebrate your presence among us. Newcomers are encouraged to stay for our fellowship hour after the service and to visit the library, which is directly across from the center doors of this auditorium. Bring your drinks and your questions. Members of our staff and lay ministry will be on hand to help you. You may also look for persons holding teal, stoneware, coffee mugs. These are FUS members knowledgeable about our faith community. I would love to visit with you and chat. Experienced guides are generally available to give building tours after each service. So if you would like to learn more about this sustainably designed addition or our landmark meeting house, please meet near the large glass windows over here immediately after the service. We welcome children to stay for the duration of the service. But if a child needs to talk or move around, the child haven over in that back corner or the space out in the commons room are great places to walk and talk and still here and see them service. So it's also a good time to remember, which I've already forgotten to do, to silence these pesky electronic devices. I remember back in the day when the telephone sat in one place in the house and they could only talk to you when you were in that room. Those are good days, aren't they? I would like to acknowledge those individuals who help our services run smoothly. And again, I'll mention to you, if you haven't done so already, you might think about joining them. It's really not a hard job, but it's really important for our service. Sound operator, Alex Mandel, lay minister, Tom Boykoff, greeter, Corinne Perrin, ushers are Anne Ostrom, Lisa Monroe, and Dick Goldberg. Hospitality is Sandy Plisch and Rick DeVita. Flowers were offered by Sandra Plisch and the tour guide today will be John Powell. So we've got one announcement here too. Actually, I've got one that's not officially here. The one that's officially here is in honor to remind ourselves and others of the impact of continued racial violence in our society, we'll make and hang flags on our lawn this week. Each one with the name of a life lost. The equity ministry team has a list of names and all materials. We invite your help. After services today, there will be a table where you can take a moment to add a name. And remember that after the second service today, we have a parish meeting. Our famous food hollers will be helping feed those people who stay after the service to help us run our show. So welcome. I'm sure that today's service will inspire you and make you think some new thoughts. Thank you. We gather here this morning as individual people, young, old, male, female, temporarily able, disabled, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, and straight, theist, atheist, agnostic, Christian, Buddhist, humanist, Jew. We gather as a community of people, however, who are more than categories. We gather here, each ministering to the other, meeting one another's strengths, encouraging greater wholeness. And so we give thanks for this extraordinary blessing, this gathering together of separate, unique individuals as a whole, one company, one congregation, one spiritual body. Here may our minds be stretched, our hearts be opened, our souls rekindled, and here may we feel secure enough to acknowledge our brokenness and at the same time be stirred by love's endless possibilities. I invite you to rise in body and spirit for the lighting of our chalice. And if you will join your voices with mine in reading our words of affirmation. To be open to new truth, respectful of all opinion, patient with all people, this is our religion. To speak responsibly, to choose wisely, to act conscientiously, these are the marks of a mature faith. We come together seeking not only comfort and support, but the stimulus we need to become the best possible persons. And I'll please turn in the teal hymnals to hymn number 1031, filled with loving kindness. Spirit of loving kindness, please turn and extend to your neighbors a warm greeting. Relaxing back into your seats, I invite you to join me for a few moments of meditation. And quiet contemplation. We are now in the midst of autumn, a time of great beauty and of great busyness. Memories of mystery novels, swimming pools seem distant now, life's pace has quickened, its traffic has become more congested. The days are rushed forward as if they couldn't wait to get to winter. And yet it feels good to be engaged, to experience again the surge of autumn energy and step lively to the rhythms of labor and learning and commerce. Vibrant colors, the cold prickly dawn, the clamor of migrating flocks, air saturated with the dusty smell of fallen leaves. The scene is set, the signs auspicious for meaningful work and spirited play. In the midst of all of this hubbub, the soccer games and the clearance sales, the furnace maintenance and the full gutters, may we remember that for some, fall is a distressing time, a time when tight budgets are strained by higher heating bills and the need for heavier clothing, a time when holiday shopping is an unexercised luxury. Those of us who have been blessed with good jobs and golden opportunities, who arise each day in hope and expectancy, may we never become so consumed, so caught up in our own life issues and agendas that compassion, consideration is crowded out. May our busy beating hearts be opened this season to all that is lovely and all that still needs our love. Let us continue in a moment or two of silence. Blessed be and amen. You probably noticed that our children are not with us this morning. This is one of several times during the year when they have their own dedicated children's chapel over in the landmark auditorium. So there is no story or message for all ages and yet I do have a couple of stories I would like to share with you this morning. And the first one comes from the Quaker tradition. Daniel Gorman was preparing his horse and buggy one Sunday morning, hurrying as he and his wife would be late for the Quaker meeting if they weren't off soon. Their two boys had started on the 10 mile ride a half hour ago and little Hetty, she would stay home today. Hetty didn't mind being alone because the long drive always tired her out. She was only nine years old and it was too much to expect this of a child. And as Daniel had finished his preparations, a friend of his, John Perkins, appeared around the corner of the barn. Daniel was surprised. Although John was his nearest neighbor, six miles of Maine wilderness separated their two farms. Perkins should be on his way to the meeting by now instead of out here calling on a friend. John spoke quickly, Daniel, I don't think it's safe for you to go to meeting today. Well, what's wrong, John? The boys, they've already left. My wife and I were just preparing to leave as well. Hetty, she's going to be here alone. Oh, Hetty shouldn't be left here, John said. Listen, Daniel, you remember Tom Smith? Well, he and two of his men were seen in the woods near Crooked Fork and they know all about your silver tankard and silver plates and just the other day, Tom swore when I was drunk that he was going to take those silver things from you before the summer was out. You know what that means. Daniel knew only too well. Tom Smith and his gang were desperate men who lived by swooping down on one isolated farm after another, seizing by force. Whatever was valuable inside then disappearing beyond the reach of the law. And in this thinly settled country of two centuries ago, a police force that was completely unknown. And everyone in this part of Maine knew about the Gordon tankard and plates brought from England many years earlier. So Daniel stood there in deep thought. His religious faith was very simple and it was also profoundly deep. Here indeed was a severe test. The thieves might not come. Neighbor John might be mistaken. And yet the risk of leaving little nine-year-old Hetty alone, that was great. And yet he decided that that was exactly what he must do. His duty plainly was to go to the meeting. To take her with them would only teach her to be fearful. He would place Hetty in God's hands and trust. Hetty, said Daniel, as he kissed her perhaps a little more solemnly than usual and climbed into the buggy beside his wife. Hetty, if any strangers come to the door while we're gone, I want you to treat them well. We can spare our abundance to feed the poor. And what is gold and silver compared to God's words of love? And with that Hetty's parents left and she set about making the kitchen tidy. And then she sat down by the window with a book. But it was very quiet and she began to feel lonely. She looked out the window and was happy to see three men walking rapidly toward the house. Her father must have been expecting them, she thought, which was why she had talked about treating the stranger as well. And so she ran down the path to meet them, curtsied politely and cried eagerly, won't you please come in? Father will be sorry to have missed you but I will do everything that I can to serve you. Are you here alone? The youngest of the men asked. That was Tom Smith. Oh, yes, she said, I am quite alone. If mother were here, she would do more for you than me but I'll do all that I can. The three men stared at each other in silence and then they entered the neat comfortable kitchen. The silver tankard stood on a huge old sideboard and behind it a row of silver plates. The men hesitated for a moment and then the eldest of them stepped over to the sideboard. You're going to be seated, had he asked, allow me to prepare you a meal, are you not? She was in a panic lest her guests would not feel at home. Tom Smith dropped into a chair as though his knees had suddenly given way beneath him. Yes, we will sit, my child, yes indeed for we are all hungry. His companions turned and stared at him in amazement. And for several minutes then, had he flitted in and out while the men watched her in silence. She dragged forward the table that stood against the wall and Smith sprang up to help her. And while he was doing this, she asked him kindly, would you lift down the tankard and three of the silver plates? And then she bought cold cider from the cellar, filled the tankard to the brim, butter from the spring house, a huge loaf of fresh baked bread. And then she paused for a moment. Her forehead wrinkled in perplexity. Would you prefer some cold pork right now, or would you like to wait while I cook one of my mother's chickens? We can't wait, said one of the men. Give us what you have. His eyes were already fixed on the food. Well soon everything was laid out and with another gay little bow, Hedy invited her guests to the table. And as she watched them eat, she thought that never in her life had she seen such strange manners. They seized the meat with their fingers and gulped it down ravenously as if they had not tasted any food for days, which was in fact the case. First one and then the other took long drinks from the silver tankard until it was quite empty. Hedy hurried to fill it with cider again. And while all the while no word was spoken and the men seemed to avoid looking in Hedy's direction. Finally the table was almost bare and the men had shaken off her offers for more bread and meat. And then Tom Smith started up from his chair and said to his companions, come on, let's go. Hedy was surprised at his lack of politeness and more surprised when the older man replied, what, leave with empty hands with all this silver just sitting here and he seized the tankard. And for the first time young Hedy felt a chill of fear, oh please, she said, it's my father's. And Tom Smith leaned across the table and clutched the man by the arm, put that down. I'll shoot the first man that takes anything from this house. And Hedy at this point was quite afraid. She looked at one and then the other as they glared at each other across the table. Tom Smith turned and looked down into her trusting upturned face and a strange softness came into his eyes. And then grumbling, his companions headed for the door followed by Tom Smith and soon they were out of sight. When Daniel and his wife drove back in that evening, Hedy greeted them, your stranger's father, they came. And just as you said, I treated them well. But you know what, they forgot to thank me. The second story is of contemporary extraction and it is about the family of a woman named Cindy Debord. My husband, she writes, our four kids and I, we adored living in Casablanca, Morocco. And when it came time to leave after four years of residency, it was hard for us to go. Living in a third world country had taught us to reduce our belongings to a bare minimum. And as we were ready to leave, we decided to give pretty much everything away, all of our books, all of our furniture and take only a few clothes with us. But one thing that we could never leave behind back in Africa was our dog, Buddy. Now despite her boy's name, Buddy is a she, a short haired, tailless mutt that we had rescued from a local Moroccan shelter. And she had been our companion through many adventures and many hardships. Well, our flight out of Morocco was delayed, leaving us with a very tight layover in Frankfurt, Germany. And we were told that the airline had arranged this special shuttle to whisk us to our next flight. Run, run fast, the attendant said as we got off the plane. Well, Buddy, the dog was down in cargo with our luggage and as we were running through the Frankfurt airport, I silently prayed that somehow they would bring her to us. Let the gate, a tall, stoic German woman told us that we only had minutes to get on board. I asked her about our dog. Rolling her eyes, she made a quick check of our luggage and said, I'm afraid Buddy is not going to be on this flight. I asked what flight Buddy would be on. She said the earliest that he could depart would be the following day. So our beloved pet would have to spend the night alone and part of the next day in the Frankfurt airport. Well, our 12-year-old daughter let out a shriek. No way am I leaving Germany without my dog. And I asked whether we could all spend the night and then fly out together the following day. And the gate attendant said no, there were no open seats on the next day's flight. If we don't take this flight, we'd be stuck in Germany for two more days. At this point my husband was glaring at me. Everybody's waiting for us back home in Michigan. I glared back. Are you really asking me to leave Buddy all alone in Germany? The gate attendant asked again, what do you want to do? Our daughter squeezed my arm and said, I'm not leaving. My husband grabbed my other arm and started pulling me toward the gate. The woman held out our boarding passes and said, ma'am, you have to decide now, what are you going to do? So with my daughter wailing and my husband angry, all the emotions of the last several days surged forth and I began crying and I began swearing. And not just then, the desk phone rang and the woman's assistant answered, mm-hmm, okay, thanks. He hung up and he yelled, we got the dog and a cheer rose up, not just from us, but from the whole line of passengers who had been watching this small drama unfold. And you are you too, Buddy, who moved you, who moved you? I will lift your spirit high, Who moved you, The tear drops from your eyes, Who moved your voice and sing, Who moved your voice and sing your part, Who moved you, who moved you, The thoughts in your heart. Wonderful to have you back with us and we'll return to that theme a little later. Well, as you probably know, it's not really too bad on Sundays, but if you happen to be exiting the First Unitarian Society's parking lot on a weekday afternoon between four and six o'clock, it can take a while because employees of the UW Hospital are finishing their shifts and I have seen lines of cars stretching all the way from the stoplight at University Avenue all the way down to the Nielsen Tennis Facility. People are tired, they're anxious to get home or perhaps to the happy hour at their local watering hole. And so if you happen to be sitting at the entrance to our campus trying to make a turn on a U-bay drive, you certainly hope, you fervently hope, that some driver will take pity and extend to you just a small courtesy. Now, we've all been in comparable situations. We know what it's like to have drivers look directly at us and fail to yield. We feel misused and whatever cynicism we may harbor for the human race begins to rear its ugly head. And so no matter how positive our experience of the whole day before has been, now we probably feel disgruntled. Fortunately, the situation that I've just described doesn't happen to me all that often. In general, I have found that these good upper Midwestern folks traveling home on Highland Avenue and University Bay, they're pretty decent sorts. And after a moment or two, someone will pause long enough for me to come out and make my turn. And almost immediately, any exasperation that I might have felt, hey, it turns to gratitude, renewed by my faith in my fellow homo sapiens. Arthur Foote once wrote that good manners lubricate human relations. Thoughtfulness and consideration are ways by which we care for one another. Another former colleague of mine and a personal mentor, Jack Taylor, echoes that thought, saying that politeness is love in action. He continues, our days, they're often filled with stress, weighty issues pressed down upon us. And it's easy, therefore, to excuse our sharp words and our scrambling instances of impoliteness. But the fact remains that the second spent or not spent in some polite act, that reveals more about our belief in love than all of our high-flown rhetoric or our many declarations on appropriate alters. It is easy, he says, to believe in love. The rub comes in doing it. What we're talking about here are common courtesies. The small, easy-to-execute gestures that serve to instill a sense of social solidarity despite our differences in age, wealth, social standing, ethnicity, or religion. The 18th century British statesman and philosopher Edmund Burke believed that a society needs to promote good manners as much if not more than to pass good laws because, he said, the law touches us but here and there. But manners, they have a more or less continuous effect on us as we negotiate the social terrain. But have manners, politeness, courtesy, if you will, have they been falling out of favor in recent times? We are in the midst of a global cooling, says the Italian psychotherapist Pierro Ferrucci. Human relations are getting cooler. And the former Benedictine priorist Joan Chiddister agrees saying that the world has never been in greater need of hospitality. At times it does seem to be the case that rudeness and incivility have become the rule rather than the exception. The recent presidential and vice presidential debates featured constant interruptions and violations of decorum. Far from a mutually respectful disputation over important pressing issues, these recent rhetorical contests more closely resembled boxing matches full of punching and counter punching. But if common courtesy is not practiced as routinely as it once was, what's caused this shift? Well, when it comes to politics, we know that our electorate has become increasingly polarized. We stake out positions and take sides in what has become an unyielding zero sum game. Competitors for political office are increasingly seen not as honorable opponents but as implacable foes. And this seems to have led to a no holds barred approach to electioneering in which courtesy becomes irrelevant, if not downright counterproductive. And the problem here is that such open displays of rudeness by political rivals has had the effect of establishing an unwelcome behavioral standard. You know, according to research findings reported recently by the scientific American, discourteous words and acts exert a powerful influence over anyone that is exposed to them. Witnesses to this kind of conduct, the research suggests, are more likely to become perpetrators themselves. Like a virus, rudeness seems to be contagious. Without our knowledge, without our conscious ascent, it creates an impression which then subsequently influences our own deportment for the worse. So even if we consider ourselves to be a nice person, we will find ourselves emulating these unseemly behaviors that others have modeled for us. So that's one explanation. But there are other factors at work here as well. When people, any of us, are under pressure, when we feel stressed, as many Americans do these days, we become more self-absorbed and, as a result, less sensitive to other people's feelings. We're wrapped up in our own problems. And so we have difficulty responding to others in ways that are positive, that are affirming. In surveying employees at 18 different corporations and firms, Georgetown Business Professor Christine Porath asks her subjects, what causes you to act uncivially toward your coworkers? And over half of those who responded to this question said simply, I'm overloaded. And 40% said, I have no time to be nice. And then two. Some of us are simply skeptical of courtesy, viewing it perhaps as superficial, in sincere, even manipulative. Haven't you noticed it prevail in the world in general? The novelist Eudora Welty wrote, Beware the man with manners. Now, Americans, we like to think of ourselves as a rather informal people, suspicious of those who put on airs, as it were. The little social niceties in those old books of etiquette, the niceties that they recommended, they don't hold a lot of appeal to many of us. We prefer our simple unbarnished selves, and we expect others to accept us on our own terms. And thus, courtesy can be construed as a mask that others put on to hide their true feelings or their intentions, not as a manifestation of genuine fellow feeling. From the romantic poets to the transcendentalists to the summer of love hippies, K.J. Delantonio writes, We have rejected a supposed facade of good behavior in favor of being true to their inner nature. Good manners are merely mannerisms, the argument goes, which serve only to put barriers in the way of deeper and more honest connections. But if the currency of courtesy is worth less than perhaps it once was, we really can't afford to discount it any further, because we now live in a mass society. We rub shoulders with strangers and casual acquaintances on a daily basis. How shall we treat these anonymous or near-anonymous souls? If we opt for rudeness or even indifference, we only contribute to a further coarsening of our common life. And beyond that, there is some self-interested stake here, because inconsiderate and rude behavior has been shown to have a deleterious effect on a population's overall health and well-being. People who are regularly subjected to rudeness do suffer from hypertension and ulcers and insomnia at a higher rate than those who are spared such experiences. So if we are at all interested in creating a healthier, happier environment, we would do well to be a little disingenuous at times, acting graciously even when we don't particularly feel like it. People often ask me, the writer Aldous Huxley remarked in one of his last lectures, people often ask me, what is the most effective technique for transforming one's life? It is a little embarrassing, Huxley admitted, that after years and years of research and experimentation, the best answer I can give is just be a little kinder. Now, most of what I have been talking about thus far relates to what we call common courtesy, small, easily performed gestures that don't require a lot more than just a little bit of mindfulness. But then there's what we call uncommon courtesy, which is indeed more challenging, because that may require us to go out of our way to draw upon inner resources like courage. The two stories that I shared earlier highlight this species of courtesy. So back to the De Boer family. In spite of that family's meltdown in the Frankfurt Airport, it is clear that the airline that they were traveling on, it had no obligation to locate their dog and put him on their flight. Gate personnel, baggage handlers had no personal investment in these American strangers, and their job was to ensure a safe on-time departure of that plane. Nevertheless, some sensitive soul took it upon him or herself to retrieve that pet. That person dropped whatever work they were supposed to be doing and adjusted their priorities on the fly. And thanks to this act of uncommon courtesy, the story of it can't be done quickly changed to it has been done. You know, our family was once the beneficiary of similar solicitude. Trina and Kyle were flying here to Madison in the spring of 1988. They were going to be getting acquainted with what we hoped would be our new church and our new home. Well, the flight out of Binghamton, New York was delayed, and it got into O'Hare Airport very, very late. And so as the plane was nearing O'Hare, the flight attendant was informing passengers, including Trina, that they were likely to miss their connecting flight. And as it happened, Trina's connecting flight was the last one coming to Madison that evening. She was going to have to spend the night in O'Hare. This threw her into a complete panic. Kyle was a year and a half old. All of his extra diapers were in baggage. Her formula was running low. She begged the attendant to check with the people in the cockpit to see whether possibly the Madison shuttle could wait for her. And the stewardess rolled her eyes. I don't think so. But she went into the cockpit. And then when the plane in O'Hare was waiting to leave for Madison, and the plane was coming in from Binghamton, the pilot of the plane from Binghamton took the plane right up to the gate where the shuttle was waiting, and Trina disembarked and got on board, and they left. An hour later, she was here in Madison and was picked up. That's uncommon courtesy. And what this kind of courtesy requires, as Joan Chiddister observes, is a willingness to be interrupted, to be inconvenienced so that others can get on with their lives as well. But the lasting emotional impact on not only the receiver, but the giver can be considerable in instances like these. So let's turn to that story about the Quaker family and their encounter with robbers. Did that story strike any of you as problematic? It's hard to imagine, isn't it, leaving a nine-year-old child alone in an isolated cabin knowing that predators are on the loose and on the prowl? Now, their staunch belief in a benevolent deity notwithstanding, why would Hedi's parents take such a risk? Thou shalt not put the Lord your God to the test. That's what Jesus said to Satan when the latter dared him to jump off the top of the great temple in Jerusalem. But Hedi's father was subjecting his daughter to just such a test. Now, that aspect of the narrative aside, the story is really about Hedi herself and the practice of uncommon courtesy. And stories like this circulated among the early Quakers to encourage generous and even sacrificial giving. Now, Hedi was, of course, unaware of her guest's intentions as they entered the home. And in her naivete, and in her desire for some human company, she makes every effort to satisfy their needs. Hedi's innocence and her eagerness, they make a deep impression on this young Tom Smith, the leader of the gang. How can he possibly rob a household where he has been treated so well? How can he disabuse this little girl of her faith in humanity? Can courtesy be transformative? This particular story suggests that sometimes it can. There is something wonderful in the notion that courtesy can become as unexamined and as automatic as breathing Yifu-Tuan writes. When a mark of concern from an acquaintance or a stranger is touched by genuine warmth, he continues, it feels like a miracle. Courteous behavior, like what we've just described, was also a strategy employed by the leaders of the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s. Martin Luther King and his collaborators packaged their campaigns in ways designed to blunt the opposition to their enemies and to induce acceptance from the uncommitted. Harvard's Randall Kennedy says that this meant speaking well, dressing suitably, and minding one's manners. And as an example, Kennedy cites scenes that were pretty much familiar to us even today. Exemplary deportment displayed by African American college students who were seeking to desegregate southern lunch counters. And as these young people sat on their stools, quietly but firmly asking to be served, onlookers behind them shouted racial taunts and poured mustard and ketchup over their heads. The syndicated columnist James J. Kilpatrick was a die-hard segregationist in the 1960s. But even these scenes startled him. They put him back. And he wrote, here were these colored students in coats and white shirts and blouses wearing ties. And one of them was reading from Gerter. Another was taking notes from his biology texts. And here behind them were these gangs of white boys come to heckle, a rag tag rabble, a slack jawed black jacket at grinning fit to kill. Ugh, it gives one pause, he wrote. James J. Kilpatrick's views later softened. I should have had a better consciousness of the immorality, the absolute evil of segregation, he told a Virginia newspaper 30 years later. I suspect that the uncommon courtesy of those courageous black students had something to do with this former segregationist shift of attitude. Perhaps it had something to do with a lot of other white people's shift as well. Now that's not to say that courtesy always helps a situation, only that it very seldom hurts. If it is not assigned a very high value in our own culture, in other cultures, courtesy is thought to possess considerable merit. There is a term that is familiar to many people in China, a Confucian term, ran, R-A-N. And Adelaide Menya says that it's a complex word. It incorporates elements of acceptance, concession, and empathy. Ran literally means in Chinese to give way, to concede, to make way, which is often exactly what courtesy toward others requires from us, moving out of the way, moving from a me-first attitude to a you-first posture. And then there is a complimentary term out of the Bantu language, one that our Meeting House course celebrated in the anthem you heard just moments ago, Ubuntu. Ubuntu has much in common with Ran because both point to the connection between acts of courtesy and the creation of greater peace and harmony in our world. Now at Nelson Mandela's memorial service in 2013, President Obama invoked this word, Ubuntu. And he said, this particular word captures Mandela's greatest gift, his recognition that we are all bound together in ways that are invisible to the eye, but that indicates that there is a oneness to humanity and that we achieve ourselves by sharing ourselves with others and by caring for those around us, Ubuntu. You know, I could have benefited from some lessons in Ubuntu earlier in my own life. As was true for many of us who came of age in the raucous late 1960s, courtesy was not for me a very high priority. And as my wife Trina undoubtedly remembers, because we were high school classmates, as a teenager I was just a little too full of myself. And so maybe I still am, I don't know. In any case, my interactions with my high school teachers and other elders wasn't always respectful and it certainly wasn't solicitous. But then my parents became the proprietors of a resort hotel and restaurant and I was put to work serving our customers. And it did not take me too many months to discover that courtesy is the secret to customer satisfaction. Not always, because some patrons are determined to be displeased, but the axiom does hold in most cases. And I also discovered that when the people I was serving were satisfied, I felt satisfied. Because as Pieril Farucci says, the benefit here is reciprocal. We give warmth and we end up not feeling quite so cold ourselves. Do I slip up on occasion? Absolutely. I am not always my best or most attentive self. And that's why I have to remember that for courtesy to become love in action, we have to practice it, as I did for several years at the Holiday Inn of Naples, Florida. Because courtesy is not a natural attribute, it is a skill that we all have to master. And instilling a sense of its value is made all the more difficult when highly visible political and corporate leaders act in a less than courteous and even in an abusive way. We do need better role models and they are around if we take the time to notice. Pieril Farucci tells of a time when his own son Jonathan, then 12 years old, was out on a long hike with some companions. After a few miles, Jonathan began to get tired and gradually he fell behind the group. Well, one boy looked back and noticed that Jonathan was struggling to keep up and so he walked back to keep him company and offer some words of encouragement. Later on Farucci says, my son described it as warming help, attention, a kind word at a difficult moment. It is perhaps he says what each of us needs in our own life path as we try to take the next step forward. It is indeed. Blessed be and amen. And now I would invite you to participate in the giving and the receiving of this morning's offering. And as you can see, our offering will benefit a Grace Hospice Care's program to aid those who are in need of hospice care but who do not have the resources or the insurance to be able to cover those costs. Please be generous. Our Cares of the Congregation book lives right outside the center doors of the auditorium. It is generally there if you have a joy or a sorrow out of your own life that you would like to record and have shared with the larger congregation. There were new entries in it for the 9 o'clock hour but we do remind you that the book is available for that purpose. That being the case, we will turn directly now to our closing hymn. Please be seated for the closing words. Benediction. From the Latin, benedicere. It means literally to speak well. Much of ministry is benediction. A speaking well of each other and of the world. A speaking well of what we value. Honesty, love, forgiveness, trust. A speaking well of our efforts. A speaking well of our dreams. This is how we celebrate life. Benediction. Through speaking well of it. Living the benediction. And becoming, as a word, well spoken. Blessed be yet, amen. Please be seated. So, yeah, I hope you're still here with me. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi.