… increasing religious plurality in our congregations has brought in perspectives and practices from earth-based religions of many kinds, amplifying an understanding of humankind as one part of a great interconnected web of all existence and deepening our humility and reverence for the web of life.

Today, we are charged to remember. To know that as we live together in community, we are also in community with the silently singing lives in the vast congregation of the earth as well... Let us remember, and then act.

Crows found ways to adapt to our concrete forests but we have not yet found ways to make sure we are in balance with the rest of creation.

The oldest stories tell us we came from the dust, and to dust we will return. But dirt? That’s different. Dust is fine, often even sterile. Dirt, on the other hand, is made up of messier stuff.

It takes courage to bring our trust forward and invite another person to meet us there. This sometimes sure, often shaky, surrender is an opportunity to discover something deeper than the confines of our individual experience.

We light this chalice, here in the darkness of winter as we wait.

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

Love this world, she whispers.

Spirit and Breath, create an openness that violence has constricted.

Is it not a marvel?

I am singing/of the wonder of how roots/so love the buds they bid them grow...

Self-compassion was one of the best gifts I gave myself.

The miracle of grace is available to us even when it has been left untended.

Remind me that life is magical and mysterious.

May we remember the belonging that is ours simply because we were born.

Beneath the crust of earth, seeds and bulbs lay in store.

One of the Goddess’s best friends was a cardinal—a bright red bird who loved to play with the Goddess and the Sun.

May your kindness abound like hydrogen, which fuels every star.

All that we are, together and individually, is part of the abundance of the universe.

Love is reaching through the generations with expectations that I live through challenging times.

We rekindle our connection to the sacred web of life.

As you go forth into this new phase of your life’s adventure...

Beneath the snow, life is bursting, preparing for the next season.

Growing connects me to ancestors who had their hands in the dirt because it was keeping them alive.

In a world of scarcity, interconnection and mutual aid become critical for survival.

Respect one another, support one another, bring your gift to the world and receive the gifts of others, and there will be enough for all.

May we reconnect to our life-giving, breath-freeing connection

Water sustains, gives, and yields to / Life.

The changes that take place in winter are a kind of alchemy, an enchantment performed by ordinary creatures to survive.

We are living today with time to do good for ourselves and for each other.

My inner compass reminds me of the power we’ve been given to create a new future.

Spirit of Life, spirit of earth, spirit of all that breathes and all that is: we love you.

Maybe hope is fleeting. It leaves and returns again; there’s beauty in its impermanence.

We all honor the Spirit of Life, the Spirit of Compassion, the Spirit of Justice, the Spirit of Love

The wilderness alongside every moment, sprawling in each direction, holds more than the silence that theologians imagine of God.

Like the sun moving toward the shortest day, each moment arises—and is gone before we know it.

Tip if you are video recording this story: you can have a clip of an adult stretching out their arm in one direction, then another clip of a different adult stretching out their arm in the other direction, so that when you edit it, it looks like they are stretching towards each other. It would be...

What once seemed certain is now unpredictable, even dangerous.

This solstice night [or day] In honor of ancient traditions that celebrate this time of longest night, we observe that the flaming chalice holds the elements of the four directions: Earth, air, fire, water....

Of course there are people behaving badly during this pandemic, using it as an excuse to practice prejudice, to hoard, to blame; using it to divide and weaken us, cashing in on surface tensions for their own terrible benefit. The news daily shows these heavy things....

A seed knows how to wait. Most seeds wait for several years before starting to grow; a cherry seed can wait for a hundred years with no problem. What exactly each seed is waiting for is known only to that seed. Some unique trigger-combination of temperature-moisture-light and many other things is...

This ritual begins by lighting a candle from the chalice, and placing it in position. A list of supplies is at the end of this resource. One: Fire. Source of warmth and life for our ancestors; and for humans still today....

In my chapel, redwing blackbird unravels her liquid song in the cattails.

As we move deeper into the season, There are some things we know. Fall brings a growing darkness That we cannot escape. The nights become cooler And take on winter’s chill. The leaves on the trees and blades of grass Try on new suits of yellow, orange, red and brown....

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....

The dictionary defines soil as: “the upper layer of earth in which plants grow, or a black or dark brown material typically consisting of a mixture of organic remains, clay, and rock particles.” But I like to think of soil as a community. There are three main mineral components of soil: clay,...

Blessed is the dark, in which our dreams stir and are revealed. Blessed is the dark of earth, where seeds come to life. Blessed are the depths of the ocean where no light shimmers: the womb of all earthly life. Blessed is the light into which we awake, the light that sparkles on the waters: that...

There is relief and remorse equally in my heart as the growing season comes to a close.

My four-year-old daughter has taught me this lesson: when a child wants to derail Business As Usual— to curb the hubris of adults who dare believe in schedules and plans and productivity— one fierce little body and one clear, piercing voice, strategically applied to the right pressure point,...

There are so many spiritual lessons from the natural world and—in a season filled with Ingatherings and Water Communions—this is one for me: oxbow lakes as a beautiful combination of resiliency, strength, and flexibility.