As we come together, let us pause to take stock of the year now concluding: its moments of happiness and hurt, its times of accomplishment and failure, and its occasions of inspiration and fear. We add these experiences to the tapestries of our years, and look bravely towards a new horizon.

Once upon a time, a baby was born. Even before that baby was born, there were people waiting and wishing and hoping for that baby. The people who were waiting and wishing and hoping for that baby didn’t know exactly what that baby would be like. And so, they wondered: Would the baby have a smile...

I’m not the same person who stood in that tattoo parlor eleven years ago. Still, I don’t for a minute regret being permanently marked with this snapshot in time, of my wounds and my hope.

Liking somebody, even loving somebody, is not enough to protect them from shade that you cannot even see, much less understand.

This service was written by Rev. Clyde Grubbs and Mary Jane Holden, and adapted by Erika Hewitt. It uses readers—as many as ten, plus the Worship Leader—to tell the story of the Civil Rights movement as it unfolded over the course of a decade. This story was designed to be read while photos were...

I put my faith in you. I put my faith in every one of you who woke up this morning with the weight of loss—manifesting as numbness, anger, fear, or an alienating, aching pain. I put my faith in you, and I pray you will put your faith in me. We need one another now, because we will not make it...

This message for all ages involves two people, one of whom will need to bring forward a broken mug, plate, or bowl. These two leaders might hold a private rehearsal so that, in worship, this feels natural and playful — and yet meaningful....

Come into this place, bringing all you hold with you. though your heart be heavily burdened, whether you be on the brink of tears or burn with unquenchable rage this community can hold you and your strongest emotions, yes, even the messy ones are welcome here. Come in if you sing just a bit too...

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.

Spirit of Compassion, help us draw strength from all that we are. Give us new language with which to claim our wholeness, a new litany of joy built out of words that wounded.

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...

The things to do have been done, well, for the most part. The people we need are in place, almost. We are ready, or as ready as we will be. Bless this most perfectly imperfect beginning. May we find the right people to do the right things as we go....

We were all children once, and we carry fragments of our childhood times with us. Today, let us honor those children who walked before us, who transformed into who we have become, who led us to this place, who have lessons for us still.

"How complicated it is to break silence: to open all of the secrets in all of our broken hearts. But silence does break; truth seeks the light. We're unraveling silence because we have determined that our power with one another is greater than the power someone once had over us."

As a child, growing up Catholic, my sense was that we should give away forgiveness like candy at Halloween: freely and readily, to anyone who comes asking. As an adult Unitarian Universalist, however, I have realized that forgiveness is a lot more complicated and challenging than that image would...

Someone whispered to me, “Can you pray?” I had no earthly clue what to say. It was a profound gut-level panic. It was the moment I learned to speak the truth as best I understand it, and to hold space for it to bloom.

“If I ask you a question, do you promise to tell me the truth?" For future reference, if a child asks you this question at Christmas time, EVADE.

We, the willing, follow the threads to one another; past rightness and quips and tweets. We will find one another and persist past sunrise.