You are loved beyond your wildest imaginings by the spirit of creation.

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

[Written for two voices, here set for Worship Association (WA) and Minister (M)] WA: Perhaps some here have outgrown mystery. Maybe you have doubts about Santa, Or have forgotten the magic of a newborn child. M: One might easily lose touch with awe, In the struggle to do it all, Or simply to...

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...

Hate and betrayal do not and will not prevail, says the resurrection.

Oh Spirit that moves in ALL things, Great Mystery, Whose reach spans beyond the cold distant edges of our Universe, And yet is present within the vast subatomic emptiness, Coursing through every fiber and every breath of our being – And through Being itself! Help us to see the Miracle in the...

In my small-town congregation, our beloved dead seem to linger with us for a little while.

Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not, God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is...

The ancient Greek philosopher Pythagoras taught that the universe was composed entirely of numbers, and numbers corresponded to music. So the entire universe, all of reality, including us, was composed of numbers and music. The seven planets of the ancient world each resonated a frequency outward...

It’s been said that it’s easier to untangle a string of lights if you plug them in; it’s no different for people. Humans, just like strings of lights, are wired for connection.

The freedom to doubt, to question, to be content to live in Mystery is central to the liberal religious tradition. Like the process of evolution itself, the path that we follow—our practice—is not easy or simple. It isn’t without its dead ends or its disappointments. It doesn't guarantee that...

Spirit of Hope, settle into our bones on this Easter morning. Remind us once again that the dawn light is never a gamble; If there ever was a sure bet, it is the sunrise. Even stones crumble even grief changes and shifts and death is a mystery that is certain but not solid; But hope is like the...

This hymn text was written to accompany the tune St. Louis, commonly known as "O Little Town of Bethlehem" (#246 in Singing the Living Tradition). O Holy Darkness, loving Womb, who nurtures and creates, sustain us through the longest night with dreams of open gates....

From night into day, From chill into warmth, From sleep into awakening, We open our hearts to the wonder of life, Born again.

For the wonder and inspiration We seek from sun and stars And all the lights of the heavens We light this chalice.

O God of many names, the personal and mysterious, We have come to a quiet time, an interior place, a place for the deepening of spirit, the enrichment of soul. We seek to know ourselves by knowing you....

Chalice Lighting #434 in Singing the Living Tradition: May we be reminded here of our highest aspirations, and inspired to bring our gifts of love and service to the altar of humanity....

(adapted from the original) If, on a starlit night, with the moon brightly shimmering, We stay inside and do not venture out, the evening universe remains a part of life we shall not know....

Of course I want the truth, but here’s the rub: Truth doesn’t sit around still as a rock, it breathes and flows and turns inside out. Ever seen a lion in a cage? He paces and glowers. That must be how God feels locked in our little religions. Look how big the sky is, the deep distances between...

In all sacred literature, the hearts of the storytellers are revealed in the stories, their breath is felt in the words on the page, and we may be touched or moved or stirred by their ancient art. And maybe we can glimpse a truth that they saw, if we read closely and reflect on what we have read.