May we view each other as partners, comrades, friends on the journey

You have given us a day unique from any other.

We are mourning the dead and fighting for the living. We're singing for joy and striving for meaning.

May the invitation of prayer and meditation embrace this holy house and each precious person, moving each and all to connect with a sense of affirmation— sound, movement, or silence— in whatever way your body knows to be true. [chime] Spirit of Life and Love, our hearts are overflowing with...

We don’t always know what comes next, but that cannot dissuade us.

Spirit of Life, love which holds us, We gather in reverence and thanks for You. We are grateful for the gift of another breath, and for each moment of connection, beauty, and truth. Cry with us in our pain for our world. Remind us that we are loved, just as we are. Remind us that we are connected...

Your gifts—whatever you discover them to be— can be used to bless or curse the world. The mind's power, the strength of the hands, the reaches of the heart, the gift of speaking, listening, imagining, seeing, waiting Any of these can serve to feed the hungry, bind up wounds, welcome the...

When you heard that voice and knew finally it called for you and what it was saying—where were you? Were you in the shower, wet and soapy, or chopping cabbage late for dinner? Were you planting radish seeds or seeking one lost sock? Maybe wiping handprints off a window or coaxing words into a...

May each one among us have skin that longs to touch other skin: fingertips that long for other fingertips or whole hands and even arms; bodies that want to stand next to other bodies, not alone, while singing and bending, stirring soup. May ones whose skin doesn’t cry out for other skin wish it...

Blessed is this ground on which we stand. Holy is this place. Holy are the places of memory, the places which have formed us, where we store the icons of success and shattered dreams and gather threads and pieces of what we would become. . . Holy are the places of memory....

Prayer of Thanks for Hoes & Scythes & Spatulas & Toothbrushes & Binoculars & the Myriad Other Tools & Instruments That Fit Our Hands So Gracefully & Allow Us to Work with a Semblance of Deftitude Lovely little inventions, just right for the job at hand—a lawn edger, for example, or an arrow, or...

In the spirit of community and a sense of purpose in our ministry: Let us commence the discovery of our strengths, our concerns, our grief and our joy. Let this journey be one of love, authenticity and reverence....

O Thou unseen source of peace and holiness, we come into thy secret place to be filled with thy pure and solemn light. As we come to thee, we remember that we have been drawn aside from the straight and narrow way; that we have not walked lovingly with each other and humbly with thee; that we have...

Here we are: children at the Big Party, having our moment in the sun, our piece of the action, till our bodies give way and we are called home. We’re one big, not-always-happy family, given life and breath by an eternal parent we dearly long to know....

Ever since I graduated from college, I have had a recurring dream. My wife has had it, too, as well as a lot of other people I know. In my dream, it is time to take an exam and I am unprepared. I have not gone to classes all semester. I failed to do the reading....

I am frequently astonished by monarch butterflies. Delicate beyond belief, they fly thousands of miles each year from all parts of the continent to settle in the forests of South America. To my delight, their migratory route takes them along a bridge near my home. A few days ago, I was driving on...

Each moment of our living brings us closer to our dying. Young or old, the knowledge of life’s end is with us, growing more real, more familiar through the experiences of time and of loss. Yet what is to keep us from frittering away what time is left to us, Making it almost a matter of...

Our locks tell us a lot about our lives. Locks of all kinds hold my attention because of a dream I had when I was thirteen. In the dream a gray-haired woman in a white coat sat behind a desk. I knew she was me, far in the future. Behind her on the wall was a cross-stitched sampler with a motto. I...

All summer, workers have been building a brick wall along the road by my neighborhood. Against the brutal heat, they stretch a tarp overhead to get a little shade. I’ve watched them take bricks in their dusty brown hands one by one, butter them thickly with mortar, line them up, and tap them...

The first stop on U.S. soil after a deployment is the airport. From there, it’s all downhill until you get to see your family and loved ones again. But the airport is its own scene when you’re a soldier in uniform. On my trip home, I’m reminded of the last time I was in the airport—returning...