…those of us who believe in human rights for everyone; who believe in fundamentals of fairness, of equality, of equity; who believe in recognizing injustices of past, of present, and being accountable for ending them…

A water communion liturgy that asks that we listen for God’s voice in the waters.

Give thanks for all the waters that be—for bays and gulfs and shining seas!

We honor all our beloved dead whose bodies have returned to the earth, the earth that is our home. We honor their lives which shaped our own. We honor their love, which is beyond death. We honor their teachings, which teach us still.

High up, the wild geese have pulled the rusty doorway of Autumn closed behind them, their sharp music a choir of deep acoustic truth.

The water of tears, the water of cleansing and renewal, the water of nourishment, and the water of change.

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.

UUA President Rev. Dr. Sofía Betancourt, who is trained as an environmental ethicist, invites all Unitarian Universalists to participate in the transformative conversation this September.

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.

Some geologists believe that gases from the earth caused the Delphic oracle’s fits of passion and her prophecies. But the scientific answer does not mean the Greeks were foolish to believe they had a relationship with Apollo; it does not erase the relationship they had with their gods.

Disturbance opens the terrain for transformative encounters… Humanists, not used to thinking with disturbance, connect the term with damage. But disturbance, as used by ecologists, is not always bad—and not always human.

All organisms make ecological living places, altering earth, air, and water... In the process, each organism changes everyone’s world.

I look up and experience her music as a Beatitude of Peace, a feathery sonnet that rings of grace and hope...

This is my favorite thing about seaweed: it feels so much like my neurodiverse brain.

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…

Gentle darkness, soft and still, bring your quiet to me.