 Welcome to 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. I am not Steve Goldberg, my much more energetic and engaging colleague. You may get to see him later. My name is Karen Rose Gretler, 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 are on your life's journey, we celebrate your presence among us. As we gather in this place and this time, let us remember we are all visitors in this life. We come together to find meaning and hope with all the other visitors in life. Let us join our hearts and minds together as we celebrate this life. Please silence your cell phones as I invite you to join me now in a few moments of silence for contemplation, meditation, prayer as we settle in and come fully into this time and place together. Please rise in body or spirit for our in-gathering hymn, number 354. We will be singing verses one and four this morning. Even life, we believe in the strength of love, and today we have found a way to be together, each from our separate paths, coming here to journey together. As Karen Rose lights our chalice this morning, we will recollectively from the order of service where together we say, we light this chalice in honor of first steps for beginning even when the path ahead is unclear, for the courage it takes to trust that the way will reveal itself, that light will come to clarify our vision, that friends will be by our side. I invite you to turn toward your neighbor for a friendly greeting. Are you ready for a story? The young and young at heart are welcome to come forward. Good morning, good morning, sunny, Sunday morning, good morning, happy St. Patrick's Day, everybody, have a book today to share with you about a journey, a very exciting, it's called I Had Trouble in Getting to Salah Saloo. Who is it by? Does anyone know? By Dr. Seuss, yes. Some people know this book I hear. There is, let's see what it says here. I was really happy and carefree and young and I lived in a place called the Valley of Vong and nothing, not anything ever went wrong until, well, one day I was walking along and I guess I got careless, I guess I got gawking at daisies and not looking where I was walking. It is so bright in here you can hardly see the screen, but I will tell you I need some help reading my book with the pictures. So what happens in this picture? He falls down, he trips on a rock, yes, he lands on his bum. And so then he says, now I never had ever had troubles before, so I said to myself I don't want anymore. If I watch out for rocks with my eyes straight ahead, I'll keep out of trouble forever, I said, and then he gets bit on the tail by a quail and there's rocks everywhere. So he decides he's going to look forwards and backwards at the same time. How easy is that to do? Not easy. Something might come from the side, well, we know something came from above and something came from below. So he got stung on the head and bit on the toe. And so just as he was, just as he was dealing with all these critters, there I was, all completely surrounded by trouble. When a chap rumbled up in a one-wheeler wobble, young fellow he said, what has happened to you, has happened to me and to other folks too. So I'll tell you what I have decided to do. I'm off to the city of Salah Salu on the banks of the beautiful river Wahoo, where they never have troubles, at least very few. It's not very far and my camel is strong. He'll get us there, he'll get us there fast, so hop on, come along. Well so they hop on and travel all through the dark, night over rocks and cliffs and trees, and then the camel ends up getting sick. So they have to pull the camel themselves up a very long and windy road. And what do you know what happens next? He has to pull both the camel and the camel driver. That does not seem fair. Well, next morning we located Dr. Sam Snell, who knew all about tonsils and camels as well. Our camel, he said, had a bad case of gleeks and should lie flat in his bed for at least 20 weeks. So he couldn't travel by camel anymore, so they told him go down the road and take a bus. Well, the bus stop was there and that part was just fine. But tacked on a stick was a very small sign saying, notice to passengers using our line. We are sorry to say that our driver, Butch Myers, ran over four nails and has punctured all tires. So until further notice, the 442 cannot possibly take you to Sala Saloo. So now he has to walk a really long path, way into the distance. A hundred miles later, my feet were so sore, then once you know it, it started to pour. But way in the distance, do you see that little house? He's going to go into that little house. But that house has holes in the roof. And there are birds and rain coming in. The owls and mice are trying to take shelter too. But he has a beautiful dream. Then I dreamed I was sleeping on billowy pillows of soft silk and satin marshmallow stuffed pillows. I dreamed I was sleeping in Sala Saloo on the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo, where they never have troubles, at least very few. But when he woke up, the house was being washed overboard. What's going to happen? You thought that might happen? Well, I floated twelve days without toothpaste or soap. I practically almost had given up hope. When someone up high shouted, here catch the rope, then I knew that my troubles had come to an end, and I climbed up the rope calling, thank you, my friend. But when he got up to the top of the rope, there was a soldier on horseback saying, we are in a war, and we need you to help. We are going to give you a weapon called a pea shooter, a pea shooter. He gave me a shooter and one little bean, which was not very much, if you see what I mean. Then he yelled, get that pooser, attack without fear. The glorious moment of victory is near, and the glorious general led the advance with a glorious swish of his sword and his lance and a glorious clank of his tin-plated pants. It looks kind of like the guy with the camel, but it's not. Well, the soldiers were so scared that they ran away, and the poosers were about to surround our little character. And look at all those poosers. Oh my gosh, and all he had was that little pea shooter and one little bean. I had trouble staying alive, and I saw an old pipe that said vent number five. I didn't have time to find out what that meant, but the vent had a hole, and the holes where I went. So he went into the vent and down into the ground, and there were all sorts of critters and creatures. Can you find him in the picture? Yeah, he's kind of up here running the wrong direction against everyone else. I see a fishbowl. I see someone saying vote for somebody. A tuba, some dishes piled high and an umbrella and a drum. Then just when I thought I could stand it no more, by chance I discovered a tiny trap door. I popped my head out. The great sky was sky blue, and I knew from the flowers I'd finally come through to the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo. I couldn't be far now from Sala Saloo. And there it is, Sala Saloo. Someone last night said, it looks like it's made of candy. Well, welcome, he said as he gave me his hand. Welcome my son to this beautiful land. We welcome to sweet, sunny Sala Saloo, where we never have troubles, at least very few. As a matter of fact, we have only just one. Imagine just one little trouble, my son, in this one little trouble. As you will now see, it is this one little trouble. I have with this key, he can't open the door. There's only one door into Sala Saloo and we have a key slapping slipper we do. This troublesome slipper moved into my door two weeks ago Tuesday at quarter to four. Since then I can't open this door anymore and I can't kill the slipper. It's very bad luck to kill any slipper and that's why we're stuck. And why no one gets in and the town's gone to pot. It's a terrible state of affairs, is it not? And so said the doorman of Sala Saloo, my job at the door here is finished. I'm through and I'll tell you what I have decided to do. I'm leaving, he said. I'm Sala Saloo on the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo, where we never have troubles, at least very few. And I'm off to the city of Bula Bubaal on the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo, where they never have troubles, no troubles at all. Where they come on along with me, he said, as he ran, and you'll never have any more troubles, young man. I'd have no more troubles, that's what the man said. So I started to go, but I didn't. Instead, I did some quick thinking inside of my head. Then I started back home to the valley of Vang. I know I'll have troubles, I'll maybe get stung. I'll always have troubles, I'll maybe get bit by the green headed quail on the place where I sit. But I bought a big bat, I'm ready, you see. Now my troubles are going to have trouble with me. And here's a picture of the maze that he went through in order to get to that decision to go back to the valley of Vang. He has to get through a big maze. And he had to really think and really listen close inside to his heart to hear what he should be doing. Should he stay or should he go? And speaking of listening, we get to listen to the choir today. It's a special treat. So before you go to classes, we're going to listen to what they have to say. Today's reading comes from Unitarian Universalist Minister Victoria. You know, we do it every day. Every morning we go out blinking into the glare of our freedom, into the wilderness of our work and the world. Making maps as we go. Looking for signs that were on the right path. And on some good days we walk right out into our oppressions, or right out of our oppressions. Sometimes the other way too. Those things that press us down from the outside or as often from the inside. We shake off the shackles of fear, prejudice, timidity, closed-mindedness, selfishness, self-righteousness, and claim our freedom outright. Terrifying as it is our freedom to be human and humane. Every morning, every day we leave our houses not knowing if it will be for the last time. And we decide that we'll take with us. We decide what we'll take with us. What we'll carry. How much integrity. How much truth telling. How much compassion in case somebody along the way needs some. How much arrogance. How much anger. How much humor. How much willingness to change or be changed. To grow. To be grown. How much faith and hope. How much love and gratitude. You pack these things with your lunch and your medications, your date book and your papers. Every day we gather what we think we'll need. Pick up what we love and all that we so far believe. Put on our history, shoulder our experience and memory. Take inventory of our blessings and we start walking toward morning. Please join in singing hymn number 391, voice still and small. I invite you to rise in body and or spirit. We will be singing this through twice. Voice still and small. As some of you know, I am currently studying to become a Unitarian Universalist Minister. It took a lot of listening, listening to that voice still and small to get to this place where I am with you today. In this month when the theme is journey and on this weekend when the topic is journey of lifelong learning, it seems only fitting for me to share some of my journey into the ministry with you. For those of you who had the chance to read my column in the March newsletter, you'll recall that I reflected a little bit on maps as they relate to our journeys. Maps are not only beautiful, but they can be very useful, especially when you know where you want to go. In my case, however, I have not always known where I have wanted to go. As the Reverend Victoria Safford described in our reading today, and much like the Dr. Seuss character traveling to Salah Saloo, I have been making maps as I go, looking for signs that I'm on the right path. Indeed, maps for me have been more about helping me to see where I have been. They have been a tool to help me reflect. And truth be told, reflecting is something I'm quite comfortable with. You see, even as a young child, I was encouraged to reflect on my life, to listen to that voice still and small. Perhaps it started at the age of three when my family moved into a cooperative living situation called the Religious House. It was in this setting that we were introduced to rituals and spiritual practices that would carry us through our lives, even after we moved out of the house the following year. One such ritual was the Bedtime Ritual. At the end of each day, my sisters and I would reflect on the highs and lows of the day. I have heard young people in our religious education classes call them brags and bummers, or hapies and crappies. Here in worship service, we tend to call them joys and sorrows. In my family of origin, we called them yeses and noes. So each night, when I was getting tucked into bed, one of the adults in my life would do the Bedtime Ritual for me. It would include asking me, what did you say yes to today? My response might include things like playing with my friends or enjoying a favorite TV show or getting to eat chocolate chip cookie dough. Then they would ask me, what did you say no to today? And I would mention the splinter that had gotten stuck in my foot or how one of my sisters had hurt my feelings. Then, in the comforting and repetitive nature of the ritual, my grown-up would ask three questions to which I would answer in the affirmative. The yeses and noes are all received, right? Right, I would say. The day is complete, right? Right. Tomorrow waits for you to create, right? Right. This ritual helped me to acknowledge all that had happened during the day so that I could restfully prepare for the day ahead. Yes, reflecting on our lives was the norm in my family of origin, not just at the end of each day, but after other events, too. For example, my family would reflect on movies after we watched them together or even pieces of artwork. We would ask each other, what did you see? What did you hear? And how did that make you feel? And how is our life different now because we have experienced this? So it wasn't just the what of our experiences that we reflected upon, the yeses and noes, but it was also the so-what that we explored. It seems to me that the so-what of life is similar to that voice still and small. In order to reflect on how our lives are different now, we have to, each of us, listen for that voice. What is it calling us to do? What is the so-what of our life? Voice still and small deep inside all I hear you call singing. As you can imagine, the decision to leave a successful and satisfying career for a path marked with uncertainty is not an easy decision to make. And yet moving towards ministry felt like an authentic next step for me. Part of the reason I finally started on the path towards ordained ministry is because I noticed patterns in my life. I listened to that voice still and small. In fact, there were actually many moments when I listened for that voice. I listened for my yeses, and I listened for my noes. I listened for the so-what of my life. And upon reflection, it turned out that most of the time I was listening in church. It was in 1995 or so when I first stepped into the James Reeve Unitarian Universalist congregation. I was still in my first graduate degree program at that time, and I was seeking a congregation where I could lay down the burdens of my academic life for at least an hour a week. Two or so years later, thanks to an adult religious education program there, I fell in love with the woman who would become my wife, Bev. I myself became a family woman, eager to raise Bev's daughter, in a spiritual community that accepted our family for who we were. As with all congregations, there were a lot of volunteer opportunities. Early on, I was asked to become a religious education teacher. So eventually, I co-facilitated the sexuality curriculum for seventh and ninth graders. I assisted with the preschoolers. I coordinated the coming-of-age program. Passionate about racial justice, I helped to host conferences and trainings and classes. Having grown up taking music lessons, I joined the choir. Eventually, I headed up the library committee, joined the hospitality crew, co-chaired the remodeling task force. Also, I served as president of the board and chaired the stewardship team and served as a worship leader. What a rich variety of experiences. Now, of course, I couldn't do all of these things at once. I was working full-time, after all. So each year, I would listen to that voice still and small to determine where I wanted to volunteer next. What was I really interested in? What was calling me? Was I starting to feel obligated and resentful? If so, I knew it was time for a change. Was I excited and invigorated to share my gifts in order to co-create a beloved community with fellow congregants also on the journey? Well, that's where I wanted to be. Voice still and small deep inside all I hear you call singing. Unitarian Universalist minister, the Reverend Eric Walker Wickstrom, wrote a book entitled, Serving with Grace, Lay Leadership as a Spiritual Practice. In his chapter called, Know is as Sacred as Yes, he underscores the importance of listening to that voice still and small when he writes the following. Where do you want to spend your time and energy? How can your talents best serve your congregation? These are questions that often go unasked because the needs of the congregations can seem so overwhelming that, to put it bluntly, it often seems that they just need a warm body and those of us willing to answer the call go where we are told we are needed. Questions such as, what do you want to do and where might I best be of use? Also are not considered because of the way our churches often ask for help. He continues, if our service to the church is to be a spiritual practice and not just a road to resentment, then it is worth taking the time to practice the ancient art of discernment. What if, he writes, during the membership orientation, you heard the idea that in this congregation, your know is as sacred as your yes. That here you are expected to say yes only when you could say it with an open heart and a clear conscience and that you are expected to say no as often as that felt like the right thing to say. Then he concludes the chapter with this. As Howard Thurman once said, don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and then do that thing because what the world needs is people who are more alive. The same goes for our congregations. And so for years, I was seeking to become more alive while listening closely to my call within the church. And then that call started to sound slightly different. It started asking me harder questions. What if my call is not just to this beloved community but to the unitarian, universalist faith as a whole? What if my desire for justice-making that is rooted in spiritual practice? What if my vision for connecting people with their passions? What if my love for living from a mindset of gratitude and abundance? What if all of these things needed a different context, a different environment in order to more fully bloom? Now for those of you who have tried such listening, you know that it can be challenging to listen for that voice still and small. Sometimes the sound is so faint. And sometimes life just seems too busy to slow down long enough to pay attention. And sometimes we may hear calls to places that we do not feel ready to go yet. It's not always an easy journey and yet it is our journey nonetheless. Voice still and small, deep inside all, I hear you call singing. We are in a unique moment, my friends. Yes, as individuals, each one of us has circumstances that we are facing. Sorrows or challenges, doors opening and ideas taking root. Every day brings us another opportunity to listen to our yeses and to our no's, to our so what's. We get to reflect on the maps of our lives to see where we have been and to listen to that voice still and small within. To learn where we might be headed next. Maybe that listening is happening within the congregational setting for you. Where are you excited to serve? Or maybe it's happening out in the wider world for there is no shortage of causes to which we can add our time and energy. And beyond our individual circumstances, we are in a unique moment as a congregation, as a community of people. Because we are in an interim period between two called ministries, we have an opportunity to listen to the yeses and no's, to the so what's of our shared life for folks committed to First Unitarian Society. We have the opportunity to reflect on the map of this congregation and to listen to what may be collectively calling us into the future. In the weeks and months ahead, I invite you to take some time to slow down long enough to listen deeply to your voice still and small. Make space in your schedule. Make space in your life. Maybe try journaling or drawing a map of where you have been. Do you see themes coming up? Do you see patterns that have something to tell you? And if you need, find a trusted friend or a small group to engage in this reflection with you. Telling our stories, sharing our maps, speaking our yeses and no's aloud, these can bring us more insights, help us make connections, and remind us of our fellow travelers. Wherever the journey calls us next, both as individuals and as a community, remember this, we travel with companions. Together, what seems daunting at first might actually turn into something delightful. I will close with this encouraging reminder from Unitarian Universalist minister, Wayne Arneson, who writes, Take courage, friends. The way is often hard. The path is never clear. And the stakes are very high. Take courage. For deep down, there is another truth. You are not alone. Blessed be an amen. The offering we take each week, we hope is not just a stale habit, but an opportunity to recommit to this place and to this people. Our offering is an affirmation, a yes. When we give, we say yes to something we value. With our gifts freely given, we say yes to the values of our faith. May our offering help us practice Unitarian Universalism within and beyond our congregation as tools to empower our mission. And the mission of this week's outreach offering partner, the Wisconsin Network for Peace, Justice and Sustainability, a coalition committed to a sustainable world free from violence and injustice. We thank you for your generosity so that we can all together say yes to the lights of hope, love and peace. Thank you for all the ways you give to this community. In addition to our many financial gifts, we want to express a special thanks to those who helped to make our services possible. Our greeters are Gail Bliss and Claire Box. Our sound operator is David Bryles. Our ushers are Brian Chanas, Bissnitschke, Marty Hollis. Hospitality, the coffee and lemon water is being prepared by Franz and Eleni Mossaret Varga and Eleanor. And I can tell you that Eleanor was helping them from her high chair and she is also a volunteer. Our lay ministers are Anne Smiley and Dennis Collins and our welcome and information table is being staffed by Dorit Bergen. And now the aforementioned much more engaging and energetic colleague, Steve Goldberg, will indeed address you. Thank you for holding your applause. So I'm excited to provide an update on our 2019 FUS stewardship campaign. And when you think about it, everything we've experienced this morning at this service is an example of what stewardship looks like. It looks like the music we hear every time from our staff as well as from, in this case, the teen choir. It looks like the story for all ages after which those youngsters went to their religious education and youth programming so that they can feel valued here. And stewardship looks like the fellowship hour that we're going to be enjoying in just a few moments right after the standing ovation. Stewardship looks like everything we experience on these weekends at First Unitarian Society and everything in between. And stewardship provides the so what at First Unitarian Society. So I'm excited to explain what stewardship looks like in terms of our campaign right now. Because of the generosity of 200 stewards so far in our campaign, with a goal of $1.5 million, we have received pledges and commitments totaling and exceeding $600,000. And of those 200 pledges, half represent an increase over last year's total and one fourth represent multi-year commitments from FUS members who have decided to become sustaining stewards by making year after year commitments not just one year at a time. So if you're one of those people who has made a multi-year commitment or increased your commitment above last year's level, I'd like you to stand so we can see what stewardship looks like. Please stand. Remain standing. Remain standing, please. Stand back up. Come on. And now join them standing if you are among the others who have made a commitment of any kind to our fellowship campaign, I mean our stewardship campaign. And this is what stewardship looks like. You may be seated. Thank you. So keep that in mind as you are wondering if it's time to stop procrastinating about the pledge card that you received and your opportunity to participate in showing what stewardship looks like at First Unitarian Society. The campaign will end in April 5, Friday evening when we have a big celebration here called our Because of You celebration. Because of you and because of your stewardship we are able to provide the so what that is so important to First Unitarian Society. But we are also celebrating every week not just April 5 and every week we recognize somebody who has participated in the stewardship campaign by providing them with a $25 gift card to food fight restaurants and wait for it, wait for it. This morning's winner is Marty Hollis. Now she has to go back and sort the money from the office because she was also an usher today. Thank you Marty. Thank you to all of you stewards. And to give us another line of sight into what stewardship looks like I'd like to call Roz Woodward to the front. So Roz as you're making your way forward let me just say that Roz has offered to provide some observations about why she has long been and certainly today is an FUS Steward. Roz? Steve wanted to fire questions at me and I don't do very well on my feet so I decided this was a better option. In 1972 my husband David and I bought land in Vernon County, Wisconsin. We'd both been bought up in England where there's a strong legacy of land stewardship. Now over 40 years later my understanding of stewardship has matured. It means looking at the big picture anticipating the future and doing the best I can with the means at my disposal to make things better than they were to leave it for the benefit of those who follow. When Doug Watkins, our interim minister heard our collective values he gathered them together as stars. I can check off every one of them. Some are inevitably linked. I don't know how you separate stars one and three music and deepening spirituality. David and I had always sung together in a choir so shortly after we found FUS in about 1998 we joined the society choir where I can give and receive the blessings of shared harmony. Add to that as a midwife with every birth I was confronted by the absence of the feminine God figure in Western theology. I have exposure and support here for deep exploration of other beliefs as we learn and sing together. And how does star number two, social justice not link with star number four small groups? Margaret Mead pointed out that a few committed people can change the world. We have those here. Because of that every year the peace polls spring up on Mother's Day. I had an idea that was able to be nurtured and fed here and still goes on and grows every year and you'll see them this year as we pass to participate. Because of that every year we support one another too. Most specifically I commit to lay ministry, lay worship which are different things and healing journeys, grief group. Star number five is the spirit of space and we only have to open our eyes and look around us to share the wonders of our new unique facility. This place feeds my soul. When I see something that needs doing I can make it happen here. Like my land its beauty and treasured memories are very special but unlike my land it's an excellent investment. Please join me in whatever way best suits your style so we can move into the future with the confidence we will leave this place better than we found it. Thank you, Ross. That's another example of what stewardship looks like, everybody. And if you're wondering how your pledge should look in this effort of stewardship do you have any questions about it? Two of our staff members who are working on this campaign tirelessly, Florence and Cheryl understanding at the back of the room they can hide no more and they'll be available in the commons during the fellowship hour to help you understand what stewardship might look like in terms of your pledge if you have been following the 11th commandment which says thou shalt procrastinate at every opportunity. So with that I'll say thank you for your stewardship so far and thanks to those of you who are contemplating the kind of stewardship you would like to show as we continue delivering on the so what here at First Unitarian Society. Thank you, Steve, and thank you, Ross. We gather together each week with hearts filled with gratitude for the gifts of our lives and with deep sorrow for life's losses and pain. This week we hold in our hearts the great joy of the Yancei family celebrating the end of Phoebe's cancer treatments and her very clean scan last Monday. We join our gratitude with theirs and we send our continued prayers for more clean scans in Phoebe's future. Our hearts are with Susan Malar and family as they mourn the passing of Terry last week. A memorial service is planned for next Sunday, March 24th at 3 p.m. with a visitation at 2 p.m. here in this room. We also send our love to Jerry Moser whose brother passed away recently and to co-Williams whose sister suffered a brain injury after falling on the ice and is being taken off life support. And we pray this day for the 49 members of the Linwood Mosque in Christchurch, New Zealand who lost their lives in a senseless act of violence and hatred. As the candles burn outside that holy place, we pray for strength for those who have lost their loved ones, those who have lost the sanctity of their religious community, those who wait and pray by the sides of the injured. So much sorrow, pain, and loss. So many tragic and violent acts, one following the next. We ask today that a spirit of life and of love helps us to hold hope as a flickering flame. Helps us to build solidarity, to witness, to grasp hands, to build courage, to do everything we can to bring forth the power of love in this world. Blessed be, and amen. And I invite you to rise in all the ways we do for our closing hymn. We're going to sing verses one, three, and five. Blessed is the path on which you travel. Blessed is the body that carries you upon it. Blessed is your heart that has heard the call. Blessed is your mind that discerns the way. Blessed is the gift that you will receive by going. Truly blessed is the gift that you will become on the journey. We extinguish our communal flame, but not the quest for truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. Those remain within each one of us until our journey brings us together again. I invite you to be seated for our final gift of music.