Prelude: Simple Gifts, performed by Anna Kojovic-Frodl
We begin our service with lighting our chalice. The symbol of our Unitarian Universalist tradition. Our words by Rev. Leslie Takahashi
All that we have ever loved and all that we have ever been stands with us on the brink of all that we aspire to create, a deeper peace, a larger love, a more embracing hope, a greater generosity of the spirit, a deeper joy in this life that we share.
Hymn 128: For all that is our Life, First Unitarian Church of Baltimore
Message for All Ages
There are many ways we give to the life of this church and the monetary offering is just one of these ways. Each month we share the generosity of our collection with a local partner. This month’s partner is BeLEAF Survivors.
BeLEAF Survivors seeks to provide a safe and compassionate environment to promote hope and healing after sexual assault by lifting, empowering, advocating, and fighting for survivors and their allies and, therefore the community as a whole. While they have operated in the community as Sexual Assault Services since 1999, they recently achieved nonprofit status, and as of July 1, 2021, are operating independently as BeLEAF Survivors. Any funds received will support the financial stability of their new agency and allow them to continue to provide services (all free of charge), including a 24-hour crisis line, 24-hour hospital response, advocacy, therapy, and support groups.
Offertory: Scriabin Op 16 No 5, performed by Anna Kojovic-Frodl
Our reading this morning is actually three readings by three different authors each describing a feeling they experienced throughout the pandemic, Sorrow, fear, and hope.
I invite you to hear each of these readings and listen for which words, lines, feelings speak to you at this moment. Where do you find yourself? And maybe it’s somewhere else all together and that is okay too. For now, see what, where, if, and how one or more of these readings speak to you.
Sorrow by Linnea Nelson
My sorrow is unbound,
Streaming outward in all directions.
I want to curl up on the sofa, my head and body under a blanket,
to feel it all in the dark where no one can see me.
I’ll capture the sorrow and keep it close to me.
I need to feel unbound for a while.
Fear by Megan Lloyd Joiner
I would like to speak eloquently about fear
But I do not know what to say
Except that we are becoming accustomed to it.
Everyone- even those we love- is a threat a potential risk. A possible death sentence.
We cross the street.
We usher the children away
six feet is beginning to feel not far enough.
We are alone and afraid.
Hope by Daniel Kanter
Arriving on these shores of hope, abandon your cynicism, your despair, your short view of humanity, and look up
and see that we are not alone in our separateness.
We are not forsaken or forlorn; we can be each other’s dreams unrestrained by desperation.
We can see beyond the horizon of setbacks and defeat and know that others have journeys farther than we have.
They have been so much and not lost themselves to resignation.
Arriving on these shores of hope, embrace the here and now, the blessings and the presence of the holy matters. Here, now, we are together and stronger for it. Whether you are forlorn or uplifted, let us together enter worship as if it was a new matter, a new day, a new chance at life.
Sermon: Yours, Mine, and Ours, by Rev. Danielle Lindstrom
Moment of Quiet
Hymn 1015: I know I Can, OBUUC Choir
Benediction: by Wayne B Arnason
Take courage friends.
The way is often hard, the path is never clear, and the stakes are very high.
For deep down, there is another truth:
You are not alone.
Go forth with courage..
Go forth in love.
Our worship is over, our service begins, Go forth until we return again.
Postlude: Autumn Glow, performed by Anna Kojovic-Frodl