Holy One, Emmanuel, You are with us and we with You, now on the eve of a birth like no other, and a birth exactly like all others. We ponder the dreams and foretelling—royalty, savior, the light of the world. Revolution and possibility wrapped in helplessness and vulnerability.…

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...

Remembering to breathe and to breathe deeply and then once more, to take the breath in and let the breath out, we pause, poised as we are, at a point of risking, at a possibility of courage: #metoo. Risking vulnerability Risking pain Risking being known Risking being not believed Risking being...

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.

I wanted so badly to break free and let loose—but I just couldn't. I was stuck in my own false ideas of the congregation's expectations of me. Luckily, there’s still time.

In our congregations, how often do we assume that preachers, music directors, and other worship leaders are there to fulfill our personal preferences?

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...

Holy One, on this day of remembrance we say aloud their names again: the names of those who died this year. Died — the word is jarring. So jarring that we hardly use the word, substituting euphemisms that are a bit more vague. Sometimes people say “lost” when what they mean is dead: “We lost...

My oldest child was confused: why would no one stop and help us? Even though people weren’t stopping to help us, my son said, he wanted to be more like me and stop to help someone anyway.

We have narratives that guide the way we experience and know one another—but the Rev. Dr. William Barber often reminds me that “you must always believe the redemption of your enemy is possible.”

The hours of day and night are in balance. In honor of Earth-centered traditions that celebrate this time of year, we observe that the flaming chalice holds the elements of the four directions: Earth, air, fire, water. The lamp oil for earth The air that feeds the flame The fire we light And the...

We remember the Magi, Observers of stars, Evidence-based seekers Who found their way to kneel before a baby. May we, too, kneel before life’s intricate mysteries Following the path of science-based searchers for truth We remember Mary, Birth-mother of a revolutionary prophet The fetus in her womb...

You can make a chalice snowflake, too! Just follow David Snedden's instructions (...and remember to be careful with those scissors).

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....

Spirit of Life and Love, we gather today under smoky skies, Aching from the onslaught of the daily news, Our spirits weary and sore, Our nerves jangling with every loss of power, every alert on our phones Our thoughts this morning are with the firefighters and all those whose bodies continue to b...

Hold fast to summer. Enjoy with heightened appreciation these still-warm September days. Create more memories, take more pictures. Enjoy a bit of denial. Suck all the summer sweetness out of your sun-warmed garden tomatoes. Smile at someone. Squeeze a hand. Put up some jam or pickles....

May my wisest self guide me through this day. May she remind me to look through eyes of wonder and see the abundant beauty of Here and Now. to live from my toes up, grounded on this precious earth and in this miraculous body....