 Good morning. Welcome to our annual water communion service as we have done every summer. Today we join together and gather the waters of the world as we join together in community. Renewing our spirits and our commitment to one another and the waters of this glorious planet. This has not been a typical week in which to hold a water communion. Perhaps many of you would like to think about anything other than water today. Perhaps you have seen too much water this past week. Perhaps you know all too well the devastation that water can bring. Maybe you are holding in your hearts all those in the west dealing with the devastation of fire. Those who are praying for rain and water. Maybe you are thinking about those in the path of Hurricane Lane in Hawaii and praying for their safety. Whatever is on your heart today, we hold it with you. We gather holding the power of water in our minds and our care for one another in our hearts. Due to the recent devastation here in our own community, we are going to be participating in water communion in a different way this year. In a few moments, we will call you forward to place your water into one of these vessels. First, we will have a chance to share water that reminds us that while some have abundance, others struggle in scarcity. Second, we will share water that symbolizes travel, movement, change. Third, we will share water that reminds us of our life's storms, our concerns, worries, frustrations, losses. And finally, we will share water that brings us hope and reminds us of the wellsprings of our lives. So during our prelude and meditation this morning, think about the water you brought or the water you would have brought and think if this water is symbolic of the scarcity in our world, if it is about change or growth, if it represents a storm or a worry, or if it is water that brings you hope. And you'll have the opportunity when you come forward to let us know where the water is from and share a brief word about its meaning. Please don't worry about what time is the right one for your sharing. The great thing about symbols is that they are always open to many interpretations. For as long as humans can remember, water has been a symbol of the cleansing power of forgiveness and the faithful promise of healing love. May our service today bring healing to wounded hearts and bring us together in community once again. Good morning. Welcome to the First Unitarian Society of Madison. This is a community where curious seekers gather to explore spiritual, ethical and social issues in a nurturing and accepting 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'm Maureen Friend and on behalf of the congregation, I'd like to extend a special welcome to visitors. We are a welcoming community, so whoever you are and wherever you are on your journey, we celebrate your presence among us. So please join me now for the opening hymn, which is number 126. We're just going to sing the first verse. We come together as rivers seek the sea, bringing with us the waters of the earth. We begin as tiny springs in far off places, gathering strength as we plunge through rough ravines and flow through peaceful valleys. Always there are other living streams that join us, flow through us, sharing their strength. Then ultimately all of us flow into the great ocean of being. We are like the waters of the earth. We seek the peacefulness of a still glimmering lake. We search for the strength of the raging river. We long for the freshness of the mountain spring. And so from the springs and streams, lakes and oceans, we commingle these waters in a cup of beauty. We pour out the moments of our lives into a container that gives them shape and substance. Knowing we are part of the great ocean of being, we treasure those fragile drops that belong to us. Here and now we give thanks for the cup of beauty that is ours to create, ours to behold, ours to enjoy. And if you will join together now, in the words printed in your order of service as we light our chalice. And so we gather from the ebb and flow of our lives, thirsty for connection to ourselves, thirsty for connection to others, thirsty for connection to the larger life. As we light this chalice, may all who gather here be filled, filled with joy and hope, filled with compassion and love. Here may we be filled so that we may pour ourselves out into the world. And if you will take a moment now to turn and greet your neighbor, please be seated. Somewhere right now, someone is drinking water, scooped from the river, drawn from a well, caught as it drips from the roof. From fountains, from pumps, straight water, stored in the shade in cool clay pots in a pitcher of ice, in buckets, plastic jugs, caravan cans. A cool drink of water squeezed from a bottle, a burlap bag, sipped from a thin tin cup, shared in a family, shared with a friend, a cool drink of water, everyone, everywhere, a nice cool drink of water. Today we bring our waters, which have touched the west, the north, the south, and the east, which come from the sky, the surface of the earth, and from deep wells and springs within. We bring water that belong to lakes, streams, and reservoirs of fresh waters that quench our thirst. We bring water that is a part of the great oceans and the seas that circle the globe, teeming with life the source of all life. So we are going to begin by pouring water into these containers, reminding us of all who lack access to safe and affordable and clean water. We dedicate this first water to begin our water communion with the symbol of our solidarity with all those around the world who are calling for the human right to water. If you would like to share water representing an awareness of scarcity in our community or our lives, please come forward and pour your water into one of these common bowls. If you like, you can share a word or two about your water with Doug or Karen, and they will use their microphones to share your words with us all. If you didn't bring any water with you today, we invite you to come forward and pour some from one of our pitchers into the bowl, and you are always welcome to share silently. You do not need to speak to share. From New Orleans, Lake Superior, the Apostle Islands, Capitol Lakes Retirement Center. With concern for climate change and that more people will have access to fresh water. From Paris, France, and I've lived in this neighborhood for 40 years. Scoopham Chuck Rapids, north of Vancouver, British Columbia. From Lake Puto in northern Wisconsin. From Alaska, which is experiencing a drought. From Yellowstone National Park. A backyard pond. From my waterfall at home that overflowed for the first time in 25 years this last week. This water is from Clio's new adventure of senior living at Rosewood. From the Sioux River. From the Mississippi River. Here's some fake water. It looks real. From the basement. From Switzerland with hope for a more sustainably powered world. From the Rock River and Watertown, Wisconsin. Water with tears of joy and tears of sadness for her father here. From the Shorewood Pool from before the flooding in honor of those who lost their homes in this flood. We now invite you to share water that reminds you of the changes and transformations in your lives, your journeys, whether spiritual or physical. This water comes from my home congregation of James Reeve Unitarian Universalist Congregation. In this water from Ann Arbor, Michigan, and the Unitarian Universalist Congregation there. From my new apartment and representing a new stage of life. Caroga Lake where much joy was had with watching a grandson play in the sand. Lake Stechlein, Germany. From General Assembly in Kansas City all are called. From Richmond, Virginia where their son Michael is getting married this fall. And now the water symbolizing the storms in our lives, the concerns and sorrows, confusions and frustrations allow these vessels to be ones of receiving and healing as they absorb your storms. Postpartum anxiety knowing that all storms end. And as we conclude we invite you to bring any remaining water that reminds you of the wellsprings of your life. The water that sustains you when you are feeling empty. The joys that give you hope and lift you up. The serenity of four days I've in Bayfield on Lake Superior. From the rain barrel. From the great barrier reef which is repairing itself. Bless this water we are many bless this water we are one. Spirit of life and love ever flowing throughout our community and our world shape us move us guide us to find the courage and the wisdom to create a better way. Bless our hearts with love's welcoming embrace. Bless our minds with openness and curiosity. May compassion flow through us like water and find a love within resounding strong. May our gathering together this morning be a blessing for one and all. May it inspire us to a year of hope and love and courageous faith. And may we walk that year in the full awareness as often as possible of the blessed ties that bind each to all. Bless this water we are many bless this water we are one. This morning to symbolically create the sound of rain then we realize that bringing in more rain even symbolically might be the polar opposite of what you need this morning. So instead we will in this time gather in a moment of quiet a moment of community and one a prayer. I invite you to join me now in this time of that quiet and meditation together. Beginning by letting the very breath itself and our awareness invite us into this time and this place. Spirit of life and love. We gather today under cloudy skies aching from the onslaught of daily news. Our spirits weary and sore. Our nerves jangling and on edge. Our thoughts this morning are with all those who are grieving and filled with anxiety confusion or pain. Our hearts are with every person who is experiencing loss. Our minds with the unfolding effects of climate change and the path ahead of us. We pause here to center ourselves once again to transform our tension into tranquil readiness our fear into loving purpose. May we find in this time a moment of calm amidst the cloudy skies. May we find in this sanctuary the space to let down our guard and breathe together. May we find in this community reminders that we are enough and we are not alone. I invite you to breathe in the quiet with me for a moment to take the serenity of this being together and breathe out more love into this room. And so for a couple of moments I invite us to sit in silence and settle into the peace of this time together. Together we hold all that is our life thoughtfully and courageously. Amen and blessed be. May we rise in all the ways that we do and join our voices in number 1007. There's a river flowing in my soul. Please be seated. Our story today based on the childhood of Georgie Badielle. I am Princess Gigi my kingdom the African sky so wide and so close. I can almost touch the sharp edges of the stars. I can tame the wild dogs with my song. I can make the tall grass sway when I dance. I can make the wind play hide and seek. But I cannot make the water come closer. I cannot make the water run clearer no matter what I command. It is early morning still dark when mother wakes me. Gigi my princess it is time to get up. We must collect the water. Water come I demand. Do not make me wake before even the sun is out of bed. Come please I say. But the water won't listen and I know we will have to walk so far to the well. I am too sleepy to put on my crown. I think of the pot instead that will rest on my braids. The thirst comes quick dry lips dry throat. I squeeze my eyes shut. I see it clear. I dip my toes in it. Cool. I scoop it up and bring it to my lips. Slowly I open my eyes. Nothing. I kick the dust. I grab my empty pot and place it upon my head. My mother does the same and our journey begins full of song. My mom adds her melody. Our steps are light. We twirl and laugh together. The miles give us room to dance. Halfway there we stop for a moment at the giant tree long enough to grab a handful of sweet shea nuts for energy. We can keep the dance going just a little longer. Maman are we there yet? Finally I hear the water running from the well the giggles of my friends, the chatter of the women. Some have traveled farther than I only to return home when the sun has gone to bed. Maman hold our place while I play with friends and the dance continues. The water is flowing. Pots filling with dusty earth colored liquid. Gigi come she yells. It's my turn now. The dance home has slowed to careful steps. My thirst is so heavy like the full pot I carry. Our song is softer now. Our shoulders ache. Our feet cramp. I see home at last. Mom boils enough water for drinking and we wait. We wash our clothes. We prepare food for cooking. My father comes quickly from the fields to share in the drink and the meal. He scoops me up and says my princess you've done it again you've returned with the water. Drink Maman says. Finally every sip fills me with energy. I want to make it last but I can't I gulp it down. Clothes and body clean I sing to the dogs. I dance with the tall grass I hide from the wind. Maman brings one last cup she saved for me. Drink my princess. Sleep my princess. Tomorrow we journey again. Maman I say as I close my eyes why is the water so far? Why is the water not clear? Where is our water? Where is our water? Sleep she says. Dream she says. Someday you will find a way. Someday. I am princess Gigi my kingdom the African sky the dusty earth and someday the flowing cool crystal clear water someday. Now this story inspired by the childhood of Georgie Badiel who grew up in Burkina Fasa. These images are of the people who live in this land. With the help of the Georgie Badiel Foundation they were able to put a well into a primary school which allows the children to spend time in school instead of gathering water and allows them to bring water home to their families in the evening. Today we are launching a program to help do exactly this in the Gaza Strip. The Maya project is working to fund a water treatment system that will provide two schools 3,250 students with clean drinking water in the city of Rafa. Our offering today is dedicated in its entirety to the Maya project. You can find out more about the project and our partnership in it with congregation Shere Shemayim, the Madison Rafa sister city program and Jewish Voices for Peace at the table in the commons after the service today and we thank you for your generosity. Thank you Linda for the beautiful watery music this morning. Today is indeed a day of mixed blessings and we have one more to recognize today. Jean Sears our coordinator of member programs and engagement for the past nine years is retiring this week and we wanted to pause to thank her to celebrate her time among us to recognize how much we are going to miss her. If you have walked into our doors on a Saturday afternoon or a Sunday morning you have most likely seen Jean waiting at the door or the bottom of the steps to greet you. With her warm smile and engaging presence Jean has been a living embodiment of welcome and hospitality. It has been her personal mission to greet each person, to talk with those who needed more information or a listening ear to make sure everyone knew without a doubt that they are truly welcome here. Jean has made sure that we have had coffee and tea for our services, has coordinated countless new UU sessions, has sent hundreds of visitor letters and has done innumerable things around here that we don't even know. There's going to be a very large Jean shaped hole. So Jean if you'll come on up. Jean we thank you for all of the gifts you have brought to us. You have touched many lives opened many hearts and held our community up and held us together in so many ways. We have gifts to give to Jean as a small token of our thanks and we ask you to join us in thanking Jean today in two ways. First right outside the doors of the commons there's a gratitude book and we ask you to take a moment to write a message to Jean. Second stick around after our service and enjoy refreshments and spend a few moments thanking Jean for her many years of service here and all of the ways she has touched your life. So Jean we don't we don't want you to worry thanks to Dave Weber thanks Dave. She is taking a piece of us with her in one of our stone chalices. Now so Jean knew that she wouldn't be able to speak today so she invited two very special friends of hers to speak instead. As almost come to leave this place but before we go we would like to invite you to come forward and take some of our mingled waters home with you. Take these waters with you with the recognition that our planet flows like a soft blue sapphire in the darkness of space because of water. Take these waters knowing that they are made of our loves and dreams adventures and sorrows hopes for a better future and prayers for today. Also remember that due to the polluted state of our waters we must remind you not to drink this water or mingle it with our lakes rivers or streams. You can use it to water a favorite plant or in your garden. You can mingle it with water color paints and create a beautiful image. You can save it in a jar where you can see it and be reminded of these people in this place. We have containers here for you if you did not bring one with you today and I invite you to come forward now while we join together in our closing hymn 1064 Blue Boat it starts with a drop then a trickle a burble a rush of water bubbling towards its destination and finally the wide in the sea all rivers run to the sea today you brought water and poured it into a common bowl though our experiences have differed these waters mingle signifying our common humanity today you came and shared in this sacred community may you depart this sacred space hearts filled with hope for a new beginning a fresh start go forth but return to this community where rivers of tears may be shed where dry souls are watered where your joy bubbles where your life cup overflows where deep in your spirit you have found in this place a home for all rivers run to the sea we invite you to be seated for the postlude