 Please join in a moment of centering silence so we can be fully present with each other this morning. And now let's get musically present with each other by turning to the words for our in-gathering hymn which you'll find inside your order of service. And with that I'll bid you all a good morning and welcome to 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 member of this congregation, and I would like to extend a special welcome to any newcomers, guests, and visitors. If this is your first time at First Unitarian Society, you'll find that it is a special place. And if you'd like to learn more about our special buildings, we offer a guided tour after most of our services, and if that interests you, please gather over by the windows after the service and we will take care of you. Speaking of taking care of you and speaking of the service, this would be a great time to silence all those pesky electronic devices that might interfere with your ability to enjoy this morning's service. So please take a moment and perform that simple but essential task right now. And if you are accompanied this morning by a youngster at the service and that young person would rather enjoy the service from a more private space, we have a couple options for you including a child haven in the back corner of the auditorium and some comfortable seating out in the lobby area that we call our commons right outside the doorway from which you and your youngster can still enjoy the service. Speaking of enjoying the service, the reason we are able to enjoy the service this morning is because we've got a dedicated team of volunteers who bring the service to us. They are shy people but they have consented to having their names read. And that way you can thank them later. Operating the sounds so that you can hear my voice and other voices this morning, Mike and Anya Linow, our lay minister is Ann Smiley. We had two greeters upstairs, Karen Hill and Joan Heitman and our ushers are Edward Zappala and Wally Brinkman. The hospitality is hosted with coffee and other goodies later on by Sharon Skratish and Jean Hills but don't enjoy the coffee yet, wait till the service is over. And the pulpit palms have been lovingly watered by Betty Evenson. Just a couple announcements before we get on with the service this morning. First in keeping with our theme, our earth oriented theme for today's service, please visit our earth fair guests in the commons right after the service is over. You can also check out the Water Justice Project which was created by our Water Sentinels team and our high school youth. And if you have a bicycle, you can get it repaired or not repaired but tuned up for free until one o'clock this afternoon as a result of the generosity of our friends from Budget Bicycle who are donating tune-ups for your bike until one o'clock this afternoon. And the last announcement, speaking of tune-ups, is a tune-up for Cabaret. In 12 days, on April 24th, that's 12 days from now, Friday evening, April 24th, this place will be transformed into an old fashioned cabaret, non-stop musical entertainment, non-stop food, some good food is planned for that event by the way, and a silent and live auction that will just knock your socks off some items that will make your heart flutter. We got handmade bowls, we got Badger and Packer tickets. We've got weak vacation spent at Northwood's Cabin and all kinds of other things that you'll find in the Cabaret catalog which is available at the Cabaret table after the service. I know you're anxious about this but you have to wait until the service is over to take a look at the catalog out in the commons at the Cabaret table and the piece of paper that I just dropped tells us that you can buy your tickets now at $25 per person if you want to save $5 and not pay the $30 that it will cost you after next week. So some good reason to take a look at the Cabaret information, not only the catalog but in your Red Flores Bulletin. And another good thing about Cabaret is that Cabaret is coming and it's really quite incredible. It's an auction, it's a party and the food is very edible. The talent is top notch and you'll be so impressed. You won't believe it's possible to have this much fun at FUS. Now that's only part of the song you get to hear the rest of it next week because instead of hearing the rest of the song we want you to hear the service today. So please sit back or lean forward to enjoy this morning's service. I know it will touch your heart, stir your spirit and trigger one or two new thoughts. We're very glad that you're with us today, glad you're here. For the beauty of the earth, this spinning blue-green ball, Gaia, mother of everything, we walk gently across your lands to come together again in this time, in this place. To remember how we can live, to remember who we are, to create how we will be. Gaia our home, our holder of wisdom and dreams, welcome us here. And if you will rise now in body or spirit to join together in the words of Chalice Lighting, we light this chalice as the sun lights the earth with warmth and a desire for growth. As the sun's light filters down to sustain us, so may our work spread its light to nourish others. May we each lend our breath to help it grow. And before we join in song, if you'll take a moment to turn and greet your neighbors, the precious moment in any congregation's life, the rite of dedication. This is a time when we who are gap have the privilege to welcome two young children into our family and religious community. Today it is our cherished assignment to welcome and pledge our care to Sebastian David Leal and Sonia Ellen Leal. Today all of us gathered here are more than casual witnesses to life's gifts and nature's marvelous creations. We're all being invited to share the joy which these parents take in their children and to enter more fully into their lives. I believe in my heart that I speak for all of us when I say that we are grateful for this privilege. This ceremony is a public declaration of our love and caring for the children of our community. It is a time when all of us here enter into a covenant with these children and with one another that we will take some part in the responsibility for their care, their learning and their development. For we recognize that every child is a symbol of the future to be received with loving arms and guided with understanding and care. And all young ones have a just claim upon their families and their larger community to be nurtured in the ways of sharing, love, hope and peaceful living. So I now invite our parents to bring their children forward as you all rise. Will everyone please join in the pledge of dedication found in your order of service 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 Sebastian and Sonia into the 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 while the adults sit down, will the kids stay standing or stand up if you haven't stood up already? Today we are welcoming these children into our first Unitarian family. As they grow, they will be studying and playing with you and learning from you too. I ask you to join us in welcoming them. Will you try to be true friends to Sebastian and Sonia? Will you speak to them with kindness, treat them fairly and help them to feel at home here? If so, please say we will. Thank you. Please sit down. And now to those who bring their children before us, Christa and Jacob Leal. As caregivers, it is your privilege and obligation to provide an environment both of security and challenge in which these young souls will grow. Do you commit yourselves to promote their physical, emotional and spiritual well-being? Will you respect as well as protect these children and bestow your love as a free and unmerited gift? And do you also reaffirm your commitment to support and care for each other as partners in life and in parenting? If so, please say we do. Several are among us today who bear a special relationship to Sonia and Sebastian. Will you please stand as your names are read? Here with Sonia is Godmother Melissa Mangan, and here with Sebastian is Godfather Michael Mangan. With both children are grandparents, aunts and uncles, will all of you please rise? To all of you, I now ask, do you take upon yourselves the privilege and responsibility to nurture, defend and support Sonia and Sebastian's inherent worth and dignity? Will you encourage them to grow in freedom and spirit and to always seek the truth? Finally, will you help them to grow in love for the larger human family and to love and respect the larger community of all life to which we all belong? If so, please make the sacred promise by responding we will. Thank you. Please be seated. In the act of dedication, we use the symbolism of water as a sign of our common heritage. There is no suggestion here of a washing away of inherited sin. These children came into the world with the limitations natural to our species, but they arrived innocent. Water here stands for vitality. It is the essence of life, the foundation of being. Its use here reminds us of our common bond with all-embracing, ever-sustaining nature. This is also the water of our community, the waters of the world, gathered at our annual Water Communion Service. Its use here reminds us of the ever-sustaining and embracing love of community. Krista and Jacob named this child, Sebastian David Leely. We dedicate you in the name of truth, the promise of love and the fellowship of this society. May you be granted clarity of thought, integrity of speech, and a compassionate heart. Name this child, Sonia Ellen Leely. We dedicate you in the name of truth, the promise of love, and the fellowship of this society. May you be granted clarity of thought, integrity of speech, and a compassionate heart. As a token of their dedication, we give to Sonia and Sebastian a rosebud, fragrant symbol of beauty, promise, and love. This rose has no thorns, symbolizing the better world we would give our children if it were in our power. While we know that the world is not altogether as lovely as this rosebud, we hope that Sebastian and Sonia will learn to recognize the beauty and goodness which does exist, and that they will grow in wisdom and compassion, adding their own beauty to the world. Sebastian and Sonia, as this flower unfolds in all its natural beauty, so may your life unfold. Also as a remembrance of their dedication, we give to each child a quilt, a gift from the members of our shawl ministry program. When you see these, may you be reminded of the warmth, the support, and the love of this community for you and your family. We close our service with these words from Sarah York. Give us the child who lives within, the child who trusts, the child who imagines, who sings, who receives without reservation and gives without judgment. Give us a child's eyes that we may receive the beauty and freshness of each day like a sunrise. Give us a child's ears that we may hear the music of ancient times. Give us a child's heart that we may be filled with wonder and delight. Give us a child's faith that we may be cured of our cynicism and free to work toward a world of peace and justice. Give us the spirit of the child who is always reaching out, always open to love. If you will join me in welcoming our children. And if you will please rise and body your spirit to join in our next hymn as our children and teachers leave for classes. First selection from Mary Oliver. I thought the earth remembered me. She took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the riverbed. Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars, but my thoughts. And they floated light as moths among the branches of the perfect trees. All night I heard the small kingdoms breathing around me, the insects and the birds who do their work in the darkness. All night I rose and fell as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times into something better. Our house I'm in charge of the compost. We have a big jar-like container that sits on the kitchen counter and we put things that we don't eat in there like apple cores, orange peels, coffee grounds and leftovers that have been in the fridge too long. Every few days I carry it outside and put the contents in a big box with a lid on it. The stuff stays in the box for a long time. Every once in a while I stir it up with the pitchfork and eventually it becomes rich material I can mix into the garden soil to help things grow, compost. Just before Easter I discovered something growing out of a hole at the bottom of the box. It was a beautiful flower, a hyacinth. Somehow the bulb of this hyacinth got into our compost box and lay there for a long time through two or three cold winters. Every few days I piled some more garbage on top of it. Then this April the little bulb somehow sensed that it was spring and that the sun was shining nearby and so out of this smelly compost it poked this beautiful blossom. This hyacinth is a messenger of hope. It says we may be small and in this life we may get a lot of unpleasant stuff dumped on us. But we can overcome that and dealing with that unpleasant stuff can even make us stronger and braver and wiser. And we can stand tall and proud in the sunshine and be beautiful. Thank you all for the beautiful music. It's such a joy when you sing. And thank you, Jennifer. In Barbara Kingsover's novel, Animal Dreams, the character of Cody returns to her hometown of Grace, Arizona to take care of her father. She begins teaching at the high school and resumes a relationship with Lloyd, a Native American man that she dated as a teenager. Cody's trying to determine what to do with her life. And she asks Lloyd about the meaning of the traditional corn dance. So you make this deal with the gods. You do these dances and they'll send rain and good crops and the whole works and nothing bad will ever happen again, right? After a minute he said, no, it's not like that. It's not making a deal. Bad things can still happen, but you want to try not to cause them to happen. It has to do with keeping things in balance. In balance. Really, it's like the spirits have made a deal with us. And what is the deal, I asked? We're on our own. The spirits have been good enough to let us live here and use the utilities. And we're saying we know how nice you're being. We appreciate the rain. We appreciate the sun. We appreciate the deer we took. Sorry if we messed up anything. You've gone to a lot of trouble and we'll try to be good guests. Like a note you would send somebody after you stayed at their house? Exactly like that. Thanks for letting me sleep on your couch. I took some beer out of the fridge and I broke a coffee cup. Sorry, I hope it wasn't your favorite. I laughed because I understood in balance I would have called it keeping the peace or maybe remembering your place, but I liked it. It's a good idea, I said. Really since we're still here sleeping on God's couch, we're permanent house guests. Yes, we are. So we better remember how to put everything back how we found it. I love the idea that we are permanent house guests sleeping on God's couch. But it feels to me that we have deeply forgotten how to put everything back the way we found it. And we are very far from a relationship with the earth that is in balance. Lately it feels like any mention of the earth is only in terms of more bad news. Whether it's the shrinking populations of penguins due to lack of food or the drowning polar bears who are searching for food and give way to exhaustion, the 84% of Antarctic glaciers that have retreated in the past 50 years, the drought in California or the rising ocean temperatures that depress coral growth, endangering our critical food webs, whatever it is, the news is not good. But I don't think it will be the facts or the figures, the warnings or the statistics or even the threats that will ultimately transform us and our society into who and what we need to be. I think it will be something else. I think it will come when we wake up to the realization that this is a political problem. Yes, a scientific problem, definitely. But it is also a spiritual problem. When we can learn to love the earth again, love it as a piece of our self, feel its deep connection to our own soul, then things can change. Some of us are responding to the signs with ideas and actions, trying to bring our collective attention to our unsustainable lifestyle and the way it is contributing to the crisis. But sadly, much of this response comes from the same mindset that has caused the imbalance, the belief that we are separate from the world, that it is something out there, a problem we need to solve. In some respects, the religious response so far to the ecological crisis has been rather underwhelming. Fred Small, minister at the First Parish in Cambridge, Massachusetts, tells this tale. Last spring, I received a news release from the Regional Communications Director of a Mainline Christian Denomination announcing the blessing of the Priuses at a downtown Boston church. These owners in the Boston area, it read, are invited to drive by so their vehicles can be blessed. The blessing celebration will be followed by the running of the Priuses, where SUV drivers will be encouraged to run on foot in front of the herd of just-blessed vehicles. Fifty-one minutes later, I received a second email with the subject line, cancel email regarding Prius. I'm afraid I was taken as part of an April Fool's joke the communications director confessed. The Prius story is a fake. My apologies. Ironically, it sounded like something we would do. Something we would do, Fred says. I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt. I'm assuming the communications director meant the blessing of the environmentally friendly cars rather than the running down of the SUV drivers. Yet, he says, in the face of threats to human survival and planetary survival unprecedented in human history, our communities need to step it up a bit to do more than issue utterances of concern and blessings. When we turn to our religious history, we find that we do have another way, a way that creates a spiritual foundation for this work, a way that helps us bring things back into balance. Bill Schultz, former president of the Unitarian Universalist Association and current director of the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee, says hundreds of years ago, St. Lawrence asked, whom shall I adore the creator or the creation? Most Western religions answered back, adore the creator and supplied an image to be adored. But our answer is far different. Whom shall we adore? The creation surely, for whatever there be of the creator will be made manifest in her handiwork. The divine for us, whatever that may be, is not confined to a transcendent realm. It's ramparts guarded by the scholarly elite. On the contrary, the holy is made manifest to every one of us in the transactions of the everyday. This is a fundamental departure from many religions' preoccupation with abstraction. It is not a distant, mysterious God to whom we make our appeal. The most precious and profound are available to us in the taste of honey and the touch of stone. And this is why we love the earth, honor the body, and bless the stars. Religion is not a matter of things unseen. For us, the holy is not hidden, but shows its face in the blush of the world's embrace. For hundreds of years, Unitarians and Universalists have realized our connection with the planet and have tried to call us to this realization that all life is interconnected and holy, that we are a part of the earth, not separate from it. And we ignore this at our peril. The world is not a problem to be solved. It is a living being to which we belong. The world is part of our own self, and we are a part of its suffering wholeness. Until we go to the root of our image of separateness, there can be no healing. And the deepest part of our separateness from creation lies in our forgetfulness of its sacred nature, which is also our sacred nature. When our Western monotheistic culture suppressed the gods and goddesses of creation, when we cut down the sacred groves and said no more to the forest sprites and the fairies, when we banished the holy to a heaven above, we began a cycle of separation that has left us with a world of brokenness. Our separation from the world has left us bereft of any instinctual connection to the soul of the world, knowing that we are all part of one living being. Some of our more famous ancestors tried to help us see this long ago. Thomas Starr King, the Unitarian minister and abolitionist once wrote a letter describing a talk that he had heard by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Emerson, he says, gave us last Monday evening the most brilliant lecture I ever listened to from any mortal. It was on the identity of the laws of the mind with the laws of nature. He proved conclusively that humanity is only a higher kind of corn, that we are a squirrel who has moved up to first class, that we are a liberated oyster fully educated, that we are a spiritualized pumpkin, a thinking squash, a graduated sunflower and an inspired turnip. Such imagery, such wit, such quaint things said in a toned solemn and sublime. I have the most profound respect henceforth for every melon vine as my ancestor. I look upon every turtle as my kin. Yet we live today in a world where some say climate change is a myth of the scientists and elaborate hopes to be ignored. We live in a state where our land board voted last Tuesday to prohibit its staff from engaging in global warming or climate change work. This, despite the recent report from the University of Wisconsin, which outlined the likely effects of climate change on our state, including drought, heat waves, severe storms, degradation of plant and animal life. Polls suggest more than 70% of Wisconsin residents understand that climate change is happening and 60% believe government should increase environmental regulations to prevent it. So politics, yes. Science, definitely. Spirit, absolutely. Tick-Not Han, the Buddhist monk and teacher, tells us that we need to once again fall in love with the earth, that we need to create an intimate relationship with the source of all life. At this very moment, he says, the earth is above you, below you, all around you, and even inside you. The earth is everywhere. We often forget that the planet we are living on has given us all the elements that make up our bodies. The water in our flesh, our bones, and all the microscopic cells inside our bodies all come from and are part of the earth. The earth is not just the environment we live in. We are always carrying her within us. Realizing this, we can see that the earth is alive. Knowing this, we can see ourselves as a living, breathing manifestation of this beautiful and generous planet. We can transform our relationship. We can walk differently, care differently. We will fall completely in love with the earth and see no separation between ourselves and this being we love. This is the relationship we must each have if the earth is to survive and if we are to survive as well. Self and natural world are linked in ever-expanding circles. Tick-knock Han calls it a religion of inter-being. Ecologist Joan Halifax sees it this way. When we plant a tree, we are planting ourselves. Releasing dolphins back to the wild, we are ourselves returning home. Composting leftovers, we are being reborn as irises and apples. We can know the activity of the world is not separate from who we are, but rather as what we are. Real change will happen when we fall in love with our planet, when we learn about the crisis, when we learn to care for the planet in responsible and respectful ways. Threats and warnings are not gonna do it. Only love can show us how to live in harmony with nature and with one another and save us from the devastating effects of destruction. When we recognize the amazing beauty and the generous gifts of this planet, when we feel these gifts in our very bones, we feel connected and love is born. There is action to be taken in the outer world. But it must be action that comes from a reconnection with the sacred. Otherwise, we will just be recreating the patterns that have created this imbalance in the first place. And there is work to be done in our hearts and our souls, replenishing the spiritual substance of creation, bringing the healing power of love and remembrance where it is most needed. The crisis we face is dire, but it is also an opportunity, an opportunity for us to reclaim our responsibility for the wonder and mystery of this living sacred world. A few years ago, I spent a week with Joanna Macy. At the end of the retreat, she invited each of us to join her in taking vows, commitments that would link us to one another as a community that would remind us of these deep commitments we were making to ourselves and the Earth. These vows offer us an anchor point, reminding us again and again of the purposes that we hold dear and the responsibilities that we have. These were and are my vows. I vow to myself and each of you to commit myself daily to the healing of our world and the welfare of all beings, to live on Earth more lightly and less violently in the food, products, and energy I consume, to draw strength and guidance from the living Earth, the ancestors, the future beings, and my brothers and sisters of all species, to support one another in our work for the world and to ask for help when it is needed, to pursue a daily practice that clarifies my mind, strengthens my heart, and supports me in observing my vows. I invite you to consider making a vow to the Earth today. Consider what you are willing to do to reconnect in sacred relationship to the life that we share. The problems we face are huge and we grow weary. We lose focus. We need to come together and renew our strength. Stop by the Earth Fair after the service and see what you can do. See what touches your heart. What stirs in your spirit. Every action big and small makes a difference. What are you willing to vow? So I'll leave you today with these words from Jan Richardson entitled, A Blessing When the World is Ending. Look, the world is always ending somewhere. Somewhere the sun has come crashing down. Somewhere it has gone completely dark. Somewhere it has ended with the gun, the knife, the fist. Somewhere it has ended with the slam door and the shattered hope. Somewhere it has ended with the utter quiet that follows the news from the phone, the television, the hospital room. Somewhere it has ended with a tenderness that will break your heart. But listen, this blessing means to be anything but morose. It has not come to cause despair. It is simply here because there is nothing, a blessing is better suited for than an ending. Nothing that cries out more for a blessing than when a world is falling apart. This blessing will not fix you, will not mend you, will not give you false comfort. It will not talk to you about one door opening when another one closes. It will simply sit beside you among the shards and gently turn your face toward the direction from which the light will come, gathering itself about you as the world begins again. And I now invite you into the giving and the receiving of today's offering, which you will see. Our offering today will be given to the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee. You can find out more about their work in your order of service, and we thank you for your generosity. If you will join me now in a moment of meditation. Spirit of life and hope. Rest in us now as we gather side by side in recognition of our common humanity and our care for one another. In our struggles and loss, may we find comfort and hope. In our times of celebration and moments of awareness, may we feel inspired and grateful. May wisdom be ours as we navigate the transitions and challenges of life. Breath of life bless us and all those we hold in our hearts. Today we celebrate with Lynn and Richard Scobey, who are celebrating the birth of their granddaughter, Madeline Rose Bing in California on March 28th. Congratulations grandpa. And we hold in our heart Steve Hoberman, husband of Amy Kell. Steve passed away on Friday evening after a long journey with Lewy Body Dementia. And we send our love and our support to Amy in the days and the weeks ahead. May we enlarge the reach of our compassion to embrace all those with us here, all those beyond these walls. May we have the courage to reach out in kindness and the courage to ask when we are the ones needing support. River of life move in our hearts. Flow through our souls and refresh us. Renew our sense of possibility. Connect us to our deep longings, our visions and commitments and our deep strength. Move in our hearts, move us into lives more abundant, more full of hope, wisdom, compassion and courage. Blessed be. And if you will rise now in body or spirit for our closing hymn number 1074. As the imagination of the earth that knew early the patience to harness the mind of time, waited for the seas to warm, ready to welcome the emergence of things dreaming of voyaging among the stillness of land and how light knew to nurse the growth until the face of the earth brightened beneath a vision of color. Let us thank the earth that offers ground for home and holds our feet firm in the infinite space. Let us remember within us the ancient clay, holding the memory of seasons, the passion of the wind, the fluency of the water, the warmth of fire, the quiver touch of the sun and the shadowed sureness of the moon. That we may awaken to live the dream of the earth who chose us to emerge and incarnate its hidden night in mind, spirit and light. Blessed be and go in peace.