The fulcrum of the Earth tilts toward goodness and I will ride along…

Since I was a kid, I have had a penchant and passion for my touch on my body. This was sometimes shameful, sometimes wonderful, and deeply private from fairly early on, as I received messages from family and neighbors that it wasn’t “right.” It has only been as an adult, as i have witnessed...

Do not be afraid of the darkness. Dark is the rich fertile earth that cradles the seed, nourishing growth. Dark is the soft night that cradles us to rest. Only in darkness can stars shine across the vastness of space. Only in darkness is the moon's dance so clear....

When some people think of Easter, they think of a bunny rabbit. Others would point to other fertility symbols and signs of Spring, springing forth out of the ordinary, the plain, the seemingly dead: butterflies, flowers, and the like. Christians might think of the empty cross, or of a cross with...

I heard the Second Brandenburg Concerto played in honor of Bach’s 300th birthday, and I was swept away. I remembered a story about the people who send messages into outer space. Someone suggested sending a piece by Bach. The reply was “But that would be bragging.” Some say we get what we...

My high school years were speckled with trust walks. In my ­Unitarian Universalist youth group at the First UU Congre­gation of Ann Arbor, each year, the incoming freshmen were given blindfolds and a partner. They were led out into the dark, with only hands on their shoulders to guide them. When...

Somos una gente del arco iris. We are a rainbow people. The rainbow is an arc of light brilliantly displaying all the colors of the visible spectrum, all the colors that combine to make the astounding beauty of our world, all the colors that combine to reflect the astounding diversity of human...

We come to this time and this place: To rediscover the wondrous gift of free religious community; To renew the faith in the holiness, goodness, and beauty of life; To reaffirm the way of the open mind and full heart; To rekindle the flame of memory and hope; and To rekindle the vision of an earth...

Speak, flowers, speak! Why do you say nothing? The flowers have the gift of language. In the meadow they speak of freedom, Creating patterns wild and free as no gardener could match. In the forest they nestle, snug carpets under the roof of Leaf and branch, making a rug of such softness....