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This past Tuesday our Policy Board held its regular monthly meeting. As we began, Peggy Webbe, our president, invited us into a guided check-in. “Share a fond holiday memory.” When it was my turn I talk about my late father who was a person of great integrity, but also quite willing to lie to his children if it would add to their experience of holiday magic.             For years, every Christmas morning, before my brothers and I began opening our presents, my father would hand us each a small, white candle, the kind we used to light at the Christmas Eve service when the congregation sang “Silent Night.” He taught us that Unitarian Universalist children all over the world lit these special candles before opening their presents. Every Christmas morning we dutifully lit our candles and placed them on the mantel above the fire. There they would burn down to nubs as we gleefully opened our presents. The ritual added a spiritual dimension to the morning. We engaged with reverence. I remember a palpable feeling of connection to my UU peers around the planet. Every Christmas I looked forward to lighting that candle.             I must have been in junior high school when I mentioned the ritual to friend at church, as if they knew exactly what I was talking about. “You know, the Christmas candles.”             They didn’t know.             There was no such ritual practiced in Unitarian Universalist homes beyond ours.             I can’t remember how I felt when I finally understood the deception. I don’t think I was angry. I don’t think it was embarrassing. My father was a beloved youth group advisor. All the kids knew him and likely would have understood: “Yep, sounds like a John Pawelek thing.” I probably felt something akin to that. Of course dad would design a ritual and then make up a story to be sure we took it seriously.             My dad was a positive, optimistic, hopeful person, and he needed ways to express it. This time of year in particular—the darkest time of year when the northern hemisphere tilts infinitesimally back toward the sun and the days begin their slow lengthening—this time of year spoke to him. This time of year when so many traditions use lights to point toward some coming blessing, some better world, some new day—traditions often built atop the long-forgotten midwinter celebrations of ancient agricultural communities—this time of year spoke to him. This time of year when Christians celebrate the birth of the messiah, the king, the savior, the prophet, the great moral teacher, the light of the world, the Jewish peasant radical messenger of peace on earth and good will to all—this time of year spoke to him. There he was in his Christmas glory, playing the role of Kaspar in our congregation’s production of Gian Carlo Menotti’s “Amahl and the Night visitors”—Kaspar the king who carried a mysterious box filled with rare gems and licorice. The more I think about it, how could he not make up a story about kindling a flame on Christmas morning to increase his children’s sense of magic, wonder, awe and connection?             He was teaching us to be present to the light and all it might symbolize—peace, hope, love, joy.  Don’t just dive into your presents. Be present to the light. Don’t let the solstice moment pass without noticing. Be present to the light. Don’t get caught up in the commercialization of the season. Be present to the light. Let it in. Let it move you. Let it fill you.             view of a Hanover farm from Uncle Donald and Aunt Edna's window             For most of my childhood, it was our family’s custom to celebrate Christmas day at our home in Hamden, Connecticut. We would usually share a Christmas dinner with family friends. Then, on December 26th, the five of us would pack into our red and white Volkswagen van and drive south to visit our extended families. We would visit my father’s family—the Paweleks—in Baltimore for a few days. Then we’d visit my mother’s family—the Sterners and Gobrechts—in Hanover, Pennsylvania for a few days, a forty-five minute drive from Baltimore. (That’s the same Hanover famous for Snyders hard pretzels and Utz potato chips.)             I have a lot of fond memories from those trips. I’ve spoken about Hanover before from the pulpit, but it’s been a while. At the time, visiting Hanover felt like going back in time. It was still a farming community then, whereas today so many of the farms have been sold to developers to build middle class homes for people who commute to Baltimore for work. My grandparents owned W.L. Sterners, a hardware and farm implements store on Frederick Street a few over from downtown. Driving into Hanover at midwinter I was always struck by the vast, rolling, snow-covered fields, the not so subtle manure smells, the typical beige-yellow barns common to the region, the lonely silos dotting the horizon, and the clear night sky filled with stars, so much more vivid than where we lived in Connecticut. Downtown Hanover always reminded me of the fictional Bedford Falls in the classic Christmas movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life:” There were lights everywhere. People were out and about and generally friendly. Canned seasonal music played over loudspeakers. Plastic snowmen positioned around a big, gaudy Christmas tree. Sometimes snow fell gently on the scene.             Aunts, uncles and cousins gathered at my grandparents’ house a few doors down from the store on the evening of our arrival. All the children opened presents in the living room. Then came the desserts. Then someone would play a piece on the piano. We would sing carols. My grandfather might pick up his violin and play along. Some years they turned off all the lights in the room except the plug-in plastic candles on the window sills. Eventually my uncle Donald and two of my cousins, Brad and Brian, would break out their trombones and start playing along with the carols. “Joy to the World.” “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.” They blended so beautifully, perfectly in tune—that rich, mellow trombone tambre. When he was old enough, my younger brother Nate joined in with his French horn. “In the Bleak Midwinter.” “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” They always ended with “Silent Night.” I learned the first verses to most of the carols, but never learned the others, so either just repeated the first verse, or made up words as best I could. But it didn’t really matter. We were together at the holidays, celebrating, joining our voices, blending, harmonizing, there in the dim, electric candle light, evoking the light of the distant sun now returning, evoking feelings for the baby whose birth was a hopeful sign.             It’s been more than a quarter century since we Paweleks gathered together with the Sterners and Gobrechts in late December. Donald’s son Brad, the first of our generation of cousins, is deceased. Uncle Donald is in his 90s and lives with many health challenges. That gathering won’t happen again, not in that way. But I’ll also never forget it. I’ll never forget the sound which seemed to come so naturally, emerging from some deep well in our family’s spirituality. I’ll never forget the blending and the harmonizing. I’ll never forget those plug-in candles. We were being faithfully present to the light.     Again did the earth shift Again did the nights grow short, And the days long. And the people of the earth, [and all its creatures] were glad and celebrated each in their own ways. [1]               These words appear in our hymnal. They are by the writer and artist Diane Lee Moomey who lives in Half Moon Bay, California. (I added the line about the creatures.)             The earth did indeed shift yesterday—at 4:21 am to be precise—tilting its northern hemisphere back toward the sun. It shifted as it does every year, year after year, travelling its endless elliptical orbit around the sun. Of course, it orbits around the sun with the other planets in our solar system, which endlessly spirals around the center of the Milky Way galaxy which, if I understand correctly, also spirals around the center of mass of all our neighboring galaxies. That collection of galaxies is probably moving in some specific way at some great speed as well, but I haven’t looked into it. Point is, there’s a lot of movement, a lot of motion, a lot of circling and spiraling at speeds we can’t perceive. Unless we have the proper tools for measuring, we don’t notice the moment of the solstice. December 21st doesn’t feel any different than the surrounding days. The changes come slowly. As far as our perception goes, the changes are infinitesimal. We’ll notice the difference in a few weeks.             Even so, the shift matters. In its honor, I want to name three wishes—you could call them prayers—that I have for each of you individually, and all of us collectively.             As the earth shifts, as the days begin to grow longer, as the light returns, I wish for you joy. Even if you are struggling in some way, even if you are suffering in some way, even if events in the wider world are filling you with anxiety and fear, keeping you up through these long, dark nights, I wish for you joy in this season: the joy that comes from connecting with family and friends; the joy that comes from giving and receiving gifts; the joy that comes from serving, supporting, helping others in need; the joy that comes with taking a break from an otherwise busy life; the joy that comes from being present to the returning light.             As the earth shifts, as the days begin to grow longer, as the light returns, I wish for you festivity. Midwinter, after all, is a festival. And though a yearning for festivity as the light returns may not exist in our genetic code, it certainly exists in our cultural genome. For millennia people and cultures across the planet have paused at the time of the solstice to celebrate, to light fires, to give gifts, to reverse class distinctions, to dress up, to dress in costume, to eat and drink in the company of others, to sing and dance and frolic long into the night. I wish for you festivity—in whatever dose you can handle. In your festivity, may you be present to the light.             Finally, as the earth shifts, as the days begin to grow longer, as the light returns, I wish for you hope. Those of you who are feeling down for any reason, trudging through your blue Christmas, I wish for you hope. Those of you who are missing a loved one whether they are newly deceased or gone for many long years, I wish for you hope. Those of you who are living with illness, I wish for you hope. Those of you who are worried about the state of the nation, the state of the world—failing institutions, wars, environmental crises, authoritarianism, or even just the basic cost of goods and services—I wish for you hope.             I do not wish for you false hope, pie-in-the-sky hope, hope that has no basis in reality, or hope that will surely be dashed. I wish for you a tempered hope, a reasonable, realistic hope, an honest hope. But really what I wish for you is hope that sustains you as you confront whatever challenges you face—hope that holds you when life is hard. I wish for you, above all else, hope that gives you insight into what you can do with your body, with your own hands, with your heart, your will, your courage, your spirit, your soul to address life’s hardness. I wish for you a hope that enables you to do what is in your power to live, love, serve and create as best you can.             As the earth shifts, as the days begin to grow longer, as the light returns, I wish for you joy. I wish for you festivity. I wish for you hope.             As these wishes come to fruition, may we each be present to the light.             Amen and blessed be. [1]  Moomey, Diane Lee, “Solstice” in Singing the Living Tradition  (Boston: Beacon Press and the UUA, 1993) #542.

Greetings CYM Families & Friends! A family and fellowship filled Sunday is awaiting us all this Sunday!  Come and join the UUSE tradition of an annual service devoted to holiday music!  It’s a family favorite guaranteed to lift your spirits and your toes.  After service, you are invited to a potluck lunch on the Garden Level!   Here’s what’s happening in Children & Youth Ministry on Sunday, December 15, 2024 @11 AM: All Congregation Worship All children and youth are invited to join their families in the Sanctuary for the entire worship service this Sunday.  The nursery is open and available for children age 3 and younger. Sunday Service: “Dona Nobis Pacem” - All congregational Holiday Music service. Through music and song, story and homily, we celebrate the season and articulate our many-faceted prayer that peace may prevail. Join us! Coordinators: Mary Bopp, Emmy Galbraith, Rev. Josh Pawelek Nursery:  Childcare is available in our Nursery on the Garden Level at 11 AM for children 3 and under. Care is provided by two regular childcare staff including our Nursery Coordinator Molly, our Nursery Assistant Lilly-Rose.  Our nursery staff have grown up at UUSE, and are equipped with loads of experience, patience, and creativity to keep our youngest UUs safe and engaged.  Families are always welcome to tour and stay in the nursery at any time. High School Youth Group (Grades 9-12):  HSYG Holiday Party!   Please send your youth with a wrapped present (approx. $20 value) for a Yankee Gift Swap (financial support available, just reach out to Michelle.) CYM Potluck Lunch @ 12:30PM (Garden Level) open to all!  Folks without children in CYM are also welcome to attend! An excellent opportunity to share conversation across generations. This week we will host a discernment taskforce conversation over lunch.  RSVPs preferred but not required for this engagement opportunity. Junior Youth Group: Will meet after a quick bite at the CYM potluck lunch at 12:30PM.  The Junior Youth Group will then meet from 1PM-3PM on the Garden Level. Affirmation: UUSE’s ongoing intergenerational Affirmation class will meet from 1PM-2:30PM in the Sanctuary.  Please review the previously distributed information in Josh’s email to prepare for the meeting. End of Year Programming: Sun 12/22: Regular CYM Programming Pre-K through 8th grade @ 11AM Tues 12/24: Christmas Eve Service @ 7PM (Families welcome!) Sun 12/29: One service @ 10AM to reflect on the year’s end (Families welcome!) *NO CYM programming including NO nursery care available 12/29 Sun 1/5: Regular CYM Programming Pre-K through 12th grade @ 11AM UUSE Happenings: December Engagement Opportunities to discuss UUSE’s relationship with the UUA We invite YOU to participate!   We would like to encourage everyone to participate. All voices are important –including those of folks who don’t see themselves as having strong views on the issues and those who haven’t been involved thus far. When we all share our views and listen to the perspectives of others, we develop a richer understanding of who we are as a congregation.   Come share your perspectives on A2 and the UUA and deeply listen to the views of others so that we are able to find a way forward as a unified congregation. Thematic analysis of the notes capturing the major ideas shared in each session will be presented in a final report to the congregation recommending ways forward.   Three more Focus Groups Focus Group (3-hour commitment)  with an outside facilitator Highly participatory structured whole group conversation (8-10 participants) ·      Sunday, Dec. 15, 3-6 pm ·      Monday, Dec 16, 1-4 pm ·      Saturday, Dec. 21, 1-4 pm   One more Task Force Led Conversation Dec. 15 at the CYM Potluck after the 11 am service Folks without children in CYM are also welcome to attend! An excellent opportunity to share conversation across generations. RSVPs preferred but not required for this engagement opportunity.   If you need childcare for any of the above opportunities, please let us know when you sign up. Please sign up as soon as possible -- with a preferred choice and a back-up choice  by emailing  monica.vanbeusekom@gmail.com  OR  by texting or calling Sid Soderholm at 301-789-8638  OR  by signing up in person after services on Sundays And lastly, if you haven’t been to CYM yet this year, please join us this Sunday! Children in the Nursery through 12th grade need to be registered every year for the Children & Youth Ministry program, so please register here if you haven’t already. Thank you! With Love and Gratitude, Emmy Galbraith dcym@uuse.org Cell: (860)576-7889 CYM Committee Members: Desiree Holian-Borgnis, Chair Michelle Spadaccini Paula Baker Sudha Sevin Committee email: uusecym@uuse.org Angela Attardo, CYM Program Assistant CYMAsst@uuse.org

Gathering Music  (Mary Bopp) (begins at 6:55)   Welcome    Centering     Prelude "Christmas Time is Here" by Vince Guaraldi   Chalice Lighting and Opening Words  “A Christmas Prayer” by Rev. Josh Pawelek Inspired by and expanded from “A Christmas Prayer” by the Rev. Maureen Killoran   Opening Carol “Angels We Have Heard on High” French Carol, words by Earl Marlatt #231 in  Singing the Living Tradition David Klotz, hymn leader   Angels we have heard on high sweetly singing o’er the plains and the mountains in reply echoing their joyous strains.   (Chorus) Gloria, in excelsis Deo. Gloria, in excelsis Deo.   Shepherds, why this jubilee? Why these songs of happy cheer? What great brightness did you see? What glad tidings did you hear? (Chorus)   See him in a manger laid whom the angels praise above; Mary, Joseph, lend your aid, while we raise our hearts in love. (Chorus)   Reading Luke 2:1-14 Musical Interlude   Story "Lullaby for the King" by Nicki Grimes illustrations by Michelle Carlos shared by Emmy Galbraith             Carol #246 “O Little Town of Bethlehem” Words: Phillip Brooks Music: Lewis H. Redner   O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by; yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light; the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight. For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above, while mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wondering love. O morning stars, together proclaim the holy birth. Let praises ring: from God they bring goodwill to all on earth. How silently, how silently the wonder is made known, when God imparts to human hearts the gift that is our own. No ear may hear that coming, but in this worldly din, when souls are truly humble, then the dear babe rests within.   Offering   As is our custom, our Christmas Eve Offering is dedicated to UUSE’s Ministers Discretionary Fund. The fund’s primary purpose is to support UUSE members and friends, as well as friends in the wider community, who encounter economic hard times.   Offering Music “O Holy Night” based on a poem by Placide Cappeau music by Adolphe Adam   Homily  (Rev. Josh Pawelek)      Carols   “The First Noel” English carol Music: William Sandys’s  Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern   The First Noel, the angels did say Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay In fields where they lay keeping their sheep On a cold winter's night that was so deep Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel Born is the King of Israel!   They looked up and saw a star Shining in the East beyond them far And to the earth it gave great light And so it continued both day and night Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel Born is the King of Israel!   And by the light of that same star Three wise men came from country far; To seek a king was their intent, And to follow the star wherever it went. Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel Born is the King of Israel!   "In the Bleak Midwinter" Words ad. by John Andrew Storey from Georgina Rosetti Music by Gustav Theodore Holst In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago. Christ a homeless stranger, So the gospels say, Cradle in a manger And a bed of hay In the bleak midwinter Stable-place sufficed, Mary and her baby, Jesus Christ. Once more mother and child Weave their magic spell, Touching hearts with wonder Words can never tell. In the bleak midwinter, In this world of pain, Where our hearts are open Love is born again.   “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” Words by Edmund Hamilton Sears Music by Richard Storrs Willis    It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earth To touch their harps of gold! Peace on the earth, good will to men, From heaven's all gracious King! The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the angels sing. Still through the cloven skies they come With peaceful wings unfurled And still their heavenly music floats O'er all the weary world; Above its sad and lowly plains They bend on hovering wing. And ever o'er its Babel sounds The blessed angels sing. Yet with the woes of sin and strife The world hath suffered long; Beneath the angel-strain have rolled Two thousand years of wrong; And man, at war with man, hears not The love song which they bring: O hush the noise, ye men of strife, And hear the angels sing. For lo! the days are hastening on, By prophet bards foretold, When, with the ever-circling years, Shall come the Age of Gold; When peace shall over all the earth Its ancient splendors fling, And all the world give back the song Which now the angels sing.    "Silent Night, Holy Night" Words by Joseph Mohr Music by Franz Xaver Gruber   Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright. Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child. Holy infant so tender and mild, Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace. Silent night, holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight. Glories stream from heaven afar Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia, Christ the Savior is born! Christ the Savior is born. Silent night, holy night! Son of God love's pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face With dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus Lord, at Thy birth Jesus Lord, at Thy birth.   Extinguishing the Chalice   Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Calling the Elements A Pantheistic Winter Solstice Ritual to Honor the Sun by roseladenmagdalene ad. by Rev. Josh Pawelek Prelude "Darkness Into Light" by Mary Bopp Chalice Lighting and Unison Opening Words #542 "Solstice" by Diane Lee Moomey ad. by Rev. Josh Pawelek Again did the earth shift Again did the nights grow short, And the days long. And the people of the earth, and all its creatures were glad and celebrated each in their own ways. Opening Hymn #1063 "Winter Solstice Chant" words and music by Phillip Palmer led by Rev. Josh (9:00) and Sandy Johnson (11:00) Children of the Earth, we have come to sing to each other, Sister to Brother, songs of our Mother Earth. Children of the Earth, Autumn soon will breathe her last breath and quick will her death bear witness to Winter's Birth. Children of the Earth, can you feel the air getting cold as darkness takes hold and sleep covers Mother Earth? Children of the Earth, we have come to sit in the darkness, breathe in the silence, think of our Mother Earth. Time for All Ages Musical Interlude Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering "We do not gather our gifts only for ourselves, but to share with the larger community." Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of December will go to three area shelters: McKinney Men's Shelter (Hartford), East Hartford Community Shelter, Cornerstone Shelter (Rockville). Offering Music "Fantasia on Greensleeves" Ralph Vaughan Williams Anhared Stowe, violin Mary Bopp, piano Sermon "On Being Present as the Sun Returns" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #226 "People Look East" Words by Eleanor Farjeon Music: traditional French carol led by Sandy Johnson People, look east. The time is near of the crowning of the year. Make your house fair as you are able, trim the hearth and set the table. People, look east and sing today: Love the Guest, is on the way. Furrows be glad. Though earth is bare, one more seed is planted there. Give up your strength the seed to nourish, that in course and flower may flourish. People, look east and sing today: Love, the Rose, is on the way. Stars, keep the watch. When night is dim, one more light the bowl shall brim, shining beyond the frosty weather, bright as sun and moon together. People, look east and sing today: Love, the Star, is on the way. Extinguishing the Chalice and Dismissing the Elements Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Summer Hours - One Service only at 10:00 AM starting on May 29th through Labor Day.

The 2024-25 season CYM classes are starting. Be sure to register here . Programs are listed here

Over the past three weeks the Discernment Task Force has been meeting with members of the congregation to discuss what, in their view, a good discernment process would look like. Members of the Task Force have met with members of the Policy Board, the minister, and the director of Children and Youth Ministries (CYM). We also reached out to folks who were active in raising concerns about the new Article 2 and the UUA. In addition, we met with folks who reached out to us, following our E-Blast (August 29) seeking input on what a good process would be. In addition, we identified additional folks to ensure different demographics were represented, for example a range of generations, people with children, people without children. We engaged with 35 people, of whom 33 agreed to share their views. NEXT STEPS Sept 23 The Task Force will meet to identify themes that emerged from our conversations with stakeholders. The congregation can expect a brief report – via a dedicated eblast, via the CYM weekly email, on UUSE’s Facebook page, and as an insert in the Sunday order of service -- regarding the main themes that emerged. Oct 6 The Task Force will have a four-hour meeting to design a process of congregational engagement based on the input received. The congregation can expect an overall description and timeline of opportunities for congregational engagement soon after this meeting -- via a dedicated eblast, via the CYM weekly email, on UUSE’s Facebook page, and as an insert in the Sunday order of service. Second half of Oct and November: likely time frame for congregational engagement events. Late December/Early January: Report to the Policy Board Discernment Task Force Members: Trisha Corey-Lisle, chair; Desiree Holian-Borgnis; David Lacoss; Sage Nitzan; Sylvia Ounpuu; Sid Soderholm; Monica van Beusekom; Lynn Dove, Policy Board Liaison Summary of mission of UUA Discernment Task Force: The UUA Discernment Task Force will design and implement a process by which UUSE members and friends can: 1) listen to each other’s concerns about the UUA and Unitarian Universalism; 2) determine together the institutional relationship we wish to have with the UUA; and 3) determine what changes to the UUSE constitution, if any, will enable us to formalize that relationship. #specialEBlast-9-20-24

For decades we’ve been singing “Dona Nobis Pacem” at the end of this annual midwinter holiday music service. I suspect we will continue this tradition for years to come. Dona nobis pacem  is Latin for ‘grant us peace.’ It’s a very simple prayer set to very simple, very beautiful music.             I note that in 1936 the British composer Ralph Vaughan Williams wrote a cantata entitled “Dona Nobis Pacem” for orchestra, chorus and soprano and baritone soloists. He wrote it as a plea for peace in response to rising fascism in Europe. [1]  It’s not the piece we sing here, but the sentiment—a plea for peace in response to fascism—I believe resonates with our own yearnings today in response to new authoritarian leaders and governments with fascist impulses, language and policies emerging in various places around the world and certainly within the United States. This prayer, dona nobis pacem, grant us peace, feels as necessary and resonant today as ever.             Spirit of Life, precious and loving God, ancient Goddess, great mystery, source of our coming into and going out from our lives, grant us peace. Bring us peace. Bestow upon us peace. Let us live in peace. Most importantly: help us, guide us, support us in using our bodies, our spirits, our time, our energy, our love, our compassion in the service of peace. May we create peace. May we live in peace. May there be peace in our hearts. In the darkness of this late autumn, in the darkness of the coming winter, as we take rest, as we take time for contemplation, as we turn inward for nurture and sustenance, as we sit comfortably in a favorite spot, perhaps beneath the light of a favorite lamp, with a book, or cup of tea or hot chocolate, maybe a beloved pet nearby or in our lap, may we find peace within. May we drink from our deepest wells and find peace within. May we pull back from all the worries and concerns we carry through our days; may we pull back even from the good things, the joys, the future plans about which we are excited, and find peace within. May we sit quietly with the peace within. May we center and ground ourselves in the peace within. And may that peace be a blessing in our lives. May there be peace in the lives of our loved-ones, our family and friends, our neighbors, those closest to us, including those members and friends of our UUSE community—those present, those far away. In the darkness of this late autumn, in the darkness of the coming winter, may they have moments of rest and time for contemplation. May they have time for the inward turn, the inward gaze in search of nurture and sustenance. May they have opportunities to drink from their deepest wells and find peace within. May they have moments in which to pull back from all their worries and concerns, and from the good things too, to find peace within, to sit quietly with the peace within, to center ground themselves in the peace within. And may that peace be a blessing in their lives, and in our lives too. May there be peace in the lives of those in our wider community whom we don’t know—the mail carrier, the fire fighter, the Emergency Medical Technician, the grocery store bagger, the bank teller, the receptionist at the doctor’s office, not to mention the nurse, the doctor, the home health aide and the CNA, the call-center person on the phone who is trying to help, the police officer, the social worker, the teachers, the snow plow driver, the landscaper, the homeless person on the corner, the addict seeking treatment or still lost in the throes of addiction, all those suffering in some quiet, private way, all those who are vulnerable in their lives in some way, and those who aren’t—may there be peace in their lives. In the darkness of this late autumn, in the darkness of the coming winter, may they have moments of rest and time for contemplation. May they have time for the inward turn, the inward search for nurture and sustenance. May they have opportunities to drink from their deepest wells and find peace within. May they have moments in which to pull back from all their worries and concerns, and even from the good things too, to find peace within, to sit quietly with the peace within, to center and ground themselves in the peace within. And may that peace be a blessing in their lives and our larger collective life too. And, with the coming of the light in this dark season, may that peace within ripple out, radiate out, emanate out, extend out beyond us, beyond our loved-ones beyond our communities to our whole nation. Yes, Spirit of Life, precious and loving God, ancient Goddess, great mystery, source of our coming into and going out from our lives: may there be peace in our nation. Where there is discord, disagreement and polarization, may we strive to find common ground; may we strive to remember together all the founding promises of life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, the pursuit of tranquility. Where there are the stirrings of political or ideological violence, or actual political or ideological violence, may our instincts for dialogue, listening and understanding prevail and bring peace. Where there is hatred, anger and fear of the unknown, of difference, of the ‘other’ whoever that may be in our collective life, may our instincts toward fairness, toward compassion, toward justice, toward healing, toward atonement, toward love prevail and bring peace. Despite our differences, despite seemingly intractable problems, may we live in peace in our nation. And may that peace ripple out, radiate out, emanate out, extend out beyond our borders, carrying on the wind our unceasing prayer: May there be peace in the world. Where there is war, may there be peace. In Sudan, may there be peace. In Myanmar, may there be peace. In Ukraine, may there be peace. In Syria, may there be peace. In Israel, may there be peace. In Gaza, may there be peace. In Lebanon, may there be peace. Wherever there is armed conflict, wherever there are civilian casualties, wherever people are forced to flee their homes and communities to escape violence and war, to leave behind everything they’ve ever known, to become refugees, may there be peace. In the darkness of this late autumn, in the darkness of the coming winter, we know the earth will continue to turn. We know the light will return. We know the days will begin to grow longer. With the coming light, balancing the beautiful darkness, may there be peace. May we live in peace. May we create peace. Amen and blessed be. [1]  You can experience a recent performance of Vaughan Williams’ “Dona Nobis Pacem” at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HxfwmrV_D5s .

Gathering Music Holiday Favorites Margeaux, Simone and Ryan Ford, musicians Welcome (Emmy Galbraith) Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "Sun Arise" by Helen Yeomans UUSE Choir Chalice Lighting and Opening Words "A Joyful Noise" by Rev. Josh Pawelek Opening Hymn #235 "Deck the Hall With Boughs of Holly" words: traditional Welsh music: old Welsh carol Deck the hall with boughs of holly, fa la la la la, la la la la "Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la la la Don we now our gay apparel, fa la la la la la, la la la Troll the ancient Yuletide carol, fa la la la la, la la la la. See the blazing Yule before us, fa la la la la, la la la la. Strike the harp and join the chorus, fa la la la la, la la la la. Follow me in merry measure, fa la la la la la, la la la While I tell of Yuletide treasure, fa la la la la, la la la la. Fast away the old year passes, fa la la la la, la la la la. Hail the new, ye lads and lasses, fa la la la la, la la la la. Sing we joyous all together, fa la la la la la, la la la. Heedless of the wind and weather, fa la la la la, la la la la. Time for All Ages "Winter Candle" by Jeron Ashford Music "The Christmas Wish" by Danny Akken Wheetman Performed by Pat Eaton-Robb and Jenn Richard (9:00 a.m.) UUSE Children's Choir (11:00 a.m.) "Jingle Bells" UUSE Children's Choir (11:00 a.m. only) Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering "We do not gather our gifts for ourselves, but to share with the larger community." Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of December will go to three area shelters: McKinney Men's Shelter (Hartford), East Hartford Community Shelter and Cornerstone Shelter (Rockville). Offering Music "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" by Pyotr Tchaikovsky Dorothy Bognar and Mary Bopp, pianos Music "Carol of the Bells" by Mykola Leontovich Arr. by Peter Wilhousky and Dan Thompson "Rise Up, Shepherd and Follow" Trad. Spiritual, arr. by Greg Gilpin UUSE Choir with Dorothy Bognar, piano Homily "Live in Peace" Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn #388 "Dona Nobis Pacem" words: traditional Latin music: traditional canon Dona nobis pacem, pacem; dona nobis pacem. Postlude "Live in Peace" by Helen Yeomans UUSE Choir Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of Earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

First Reflection Finding a Balance: Dark and Light                         At our Thanksgiving Sunday service two weeks ago, Emmy Galbraith (our Director of Children and Youth Ministry) spoke beautifully about holding in our hearts two strongly divergent feelings. We were sharing a newly published version of the story of the first Thanksgiving . Keepunumk: Weeȃchumun’s Thanksgiving Story [1]  tells the story from a Wampanoag perspective, incorporating Wampanoag spirituality and values. As beautiful as the book is, as compelling and meaningful as the Wampanoag spirituality and values are, it doesn’t erase the catastrophic impact of British colonization on the lives of indigenous people. It’s important for all of us to fully feel the heaviness, the sadness, the pain of that impact and its ongoing legacies. At the same time, it’s also essential to our ongoing spiritual health, individually and collectively, to contemplate and name outwardly the blessings in our lives for which we are grateful, to take time with family and friends to practice rituals of thanksgiving and to gather strength and resilience from such rituals. We can feel both feelings. We can hold both realities. One doesn’t have to erase the other.             For me, this holiday season, this Advent time, this midwinter time, this darkness awaiting the solstice light time, this feasting and frivolity time, causes us to feel divergent—sometimes strongly divergent—feelings; causes us to move in spiritual directions that seem—and are—contradictory.             Here in the upper-middle latitudes of the northern hemisphere, it’s a dark season. There’s so much spiritual sustenance we can encounter in the nurturing, blanketing darkness, the mysterious, magical darkness, the still, quiet darkness. In darkness we have the opportunity to settle, to center down, to turn inward, to face squarely our contradictions, our growing edges, to heal and strengthen ourselves, to nurse those parts of ourselves that feel raw and tender. In darkness, if we’re patient, we can come back to our sources of resilience and courage. We need this dark time in the cycles of our living. And, at the same time, we instinctually yearn for the light in the midst of the darkness. The return of the sun at the solstice, the guiding star illuminating the Bethlehem manger, the menorah, the kinara—all symbols of reliability in a strange and impersonal universe; symbols of hope in moments of despair; symbols of love to counter hatred, greed and violence; symbols that invite people into community, into celebration, into joy.             We need both. We need spirituality and spiritual practices that draw us into the darkness so we can receive its blessings. We need spirituality and spiritual practices that draw us toward the light so we can receive its blessings. And, always, my concern in this  season is that culturally and religiously we put too much emphasis on light, and we miss the spiritual opportunities the darkness holds or us. Let’s face it, lights are everywhere. Beautiful, yes, but so omnipresent, so pervasive they banish all shadow, draw our attention outward, orient us to the myths and narratives of light overcoming darkness. We don’t need to overcome darkness. We need balance. Our ministry theme for December is presence. My claim this morning is that in this season we tend to be present to the light. We’re insufficiently present to darkness. We need to learn how to be present to darkness.             I’ll close this first reflection with a poem by the late Unitarian Universalist minister, the Rev. Francis Anderson, that attempts to rectify this imbalance. He says:             Christmas has no right / to burst upon us / Suddenly / And loudly / From afar / Lighting up / Right where we are / With nylon trees / And a long-life / Plastic / Star…. / It is a lonely / Road / To Bethlehem / That must be walked / Slowly / And untalked .... / Where no bright  / Light / Or angel song / Intrudes / Ahead of cue / to wrongly claim / Arrival of the dawn / Before the night / Is walked / By each of us / On through.   Second Reflection Blue Christmas               With the light comes joy, celebration, singing, feasting, good tidings, good cheer. Some of you—more of you than you might imagine—confess privately that you can’t always get there, not every year. Try as you might, you don’t feel joy. Try as you might, you can’t muster the energy and enthusiasm to celebrate. The good tidings don’t resonate with you. Yes, you spend time with others, you genuinely enjoy the company, you seem cheerful enough, but you know (even if we don’t) that you’re just going through the holiday motions. You add your voice to the caroling chorus, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing, Glory to the Newborn King,” but the words catch in your throat, and even if nobody else notices, you know your voice isn’t as strong as it has been in other years. And you don’t even have the inner resolve to remind yourself that even though you love singing the song, you don’t agree with the theology. It just doesn’t seem to matter this year.             There could be any number of reasons for your malaise. Perhaps this is the year your spouse died. We’ve had six deaths in our congregational family since July. Maybe you lost a sibling or a close friend. This is your first holiday season without them. You are sad. And people are tip-toeing around you, not sure what to say when all you really want is for them to be themselves. Or maybe it’s your tenth holiday season without your loved-one, and you really miss them this year, more than you have in recent years. Perhaps the holidays were never pleasant for you as a child. Challenges in your family of origin made the holidays more of an ordeal than a celebration. You thought you’d put it all behind you, but those long ago days are poking through this year. Perhaps this year you, or someone close to you, is living with a debilitating illness. The treatment is overwhelming—and not just the treatment, but the trips to the doctor’s office, the poking and prodding, long hold-times on the phone with the insurance company, and having to explain over and over again what you’re going through to well-meaning people who ask how you’re doing.             Or perhaps you’re down because every day your wide-open heart reaches out to the world and bears witness to some new problem, some hard news, some ominous rumbling on the horizon, some new violence, some frightening new climate data. The emotional energy it takes to process it just so you can get through your days leaves you with little to no capacity for joy and good cheer. Sometimes we call this Blue Christmas.             It’s OK. It’s OK to be blue at this time of year. There’s no rule that you have to feel joy when the larger culture says it’s time to feel joy. And so much of the joy is contrived anyways. But it’s also true that we typically don’t make sufficient room for these harder, more difficult feelings during the holiday season. We’re conditioned to be present to joy, but not present to this particular species of darkness. Again, we’re out of balance. I’m not urging you to impose your blues on someone else’s holiday party. That’s not the path to balance. I am suggesting it is healthy to make room in which to experience and name what is hard for us in this season. Not as a “bah humbug” to other peoples’ joy, but as a full statement of who we are right now. I say we owe it to ourselves and to our loved-ones to make room for our blue feelings, precisely because they’re real, precisely because it’s unhealthy to silence them. And I’ve noticed over the years, when we intentionally make that room, when we have the opportunity to name what is hard for us, when we can be present to it, and when those around us can be present to it, that presence creates balance. And, sometimes, not always but sometimes, in the midst of our outwardly-stated blueness, joy and good cheer come upon us unexpectedly. So I say, bring your whole self to this holiday season. Bring every blessed piece of you. Strive or balance. There is room or all of you. There is room for the whole you.   Third Reflection I Will Be Present Tomorrow               In planning this service, Mary (Bopp) and I talked a lot about music that evokes multiple, often contradictory feelings at the same time. She kept referencing a scene from the early 2000s remake of science fiction television holiday classic, Battlestar Galactica (I know, not a holiday show). The scene features the fighter pilot, Starbuck, reminiscing about her childhood when her father would play music that made her feel happy and sad at the same time. Mary said she’s always looking for music that has the effect on her. The music she’s offering today is such music. Human beings are capable of experiencing the light and the dark, the joy and the sadness at the same time. Music can do that too.             Every year when we come to these first Sundays in December, when we come to Advent, when we begin that period of waiting and anticipation for Christmas, for the solstice, for the beautiful lights; and when it is also dark, also time to turn inward, we sing “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” It’s a Christian Advent hymn, one of the most famous. For me, the words are important, but the music is what really resonates. The music orients me toward mystery, toward silence and stillness, toward darkness. Yet it’s also a hymn of rejoicing, full of anticipatory joy. “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Love to dwell.” For me joy is finely woven into the hymn’s darkness. There’s a wonderful balance. Multiple feelings simultaneously.             I’ve been making the claim that it’s important for the quality and health of our spiritual lives to be present in this holiday season to the full range of our emotions, to the full spectrum of light and dark. Given that, I can’t resist showing you a message hidden in the original Latin version of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” Apologies if this is a tad nerdy.             I’m basing this sharing on a 2013 article by C. Michael Hawn , a former professor of Church Music at Southern Methodist University’s Perkins School of Theology. “O Come, O Come Emmanuel,” in the form we sing it today, was composed in Latin likely between the 9th and 12th centuries, though it is made up of more ancient components known as antiphons. If I understand correctly, an antiphon is a sung response to a Bible reading in a worship service. In this hymn, those more ancient antiphons are various references to Jesus, preceded by “O.” O Emmanuel. O Splendor. O Dayspring. O Wisdom. Historically there are eight antiphons: wisdom, Adonai, root of Jesse (who is the father of King David), key of David, Dayspring, King of the Gentiles, and Emmanuel. Take the first letter of each name (in Latin) and you get the word SARCORE. As far as I know, this is gibberish. However, read it backwards ! You get Ero Cras, which in Latin means, “I will be present tomorrow.” [2] (My wife, the Latin scholar, says that’s one way to translate it. It could just be “I will be tomorrow” or “I will exist tomorrow.”)             Regardless of what it means or what the original composers had in mind, I like that there’s a hidden message that can be interpreted as “I will be present tomorrow.” I like it as a call to us to be present in this season, present to the dark as well as the light, present to the sorrow as well as the joy, present to the full range of who we are and all we can hold. Rejoice, indeed.             Amen and blessed be. [1]  Learn more about this book at: https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/669852/keepunumuk-by-danielle-greendeer-author-anthony-perry-author-alexis-bunten-author-gar-ry-meeches-sr-illustrator/ . [2] Hawn, C. Michael, “History of Hymns: ‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’” Discipleship Ministries: United Methodist Church (May 20, 2013). See: https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-o-come-o-come-emmanuel

Gathering Music (Mary Bopp) Welcome and Announcements (Rev. Josh Pawelek) Centering Prelude "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" Mary Bopp, piano Chalice Lighting and Opening Words excerpt from "You Darkness, of Whom I am Born" By Rainer Maria Rilke, tr. Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy Opening Hymn #89 "Come, My Way, My Truth, My Life" Words by George Herbert Music by Ralph Vaughan Williams Come, my way, my truth, my life: such a way as gives us breath, such a truth as ends all strife, such a life that killeth death. Come, my light, my feast, my strength: such a light as shows a feast, such a feast as mends in length, such a strength as makes a guest. Come, my joy, my love, my heart: such a joy as none can move, such a love as none can part, such a heart as joys in love. Welcoming New Members Introductions (Membership Committee co-chairs) The Charge (Minister) As you take up membership in the Unitarian Universalist Society East, I charge you to share with us who you are. Share your creativity, your experiences, your questions, your doubts, your beliefs, and all your discoveries of life's meaning. I charge you to shake us up with your ideas, to stir us up with your conscience, to inspire us with your actions, and to stimulate our hopes with your dreams of what life can be. Congregational Welcome (Congregation) We welcome you as companions in the search for truth and meaning. We invite you to share in our mission of caring for one another, encouraging each other in spiritual growth, working for justice and peace in the wider community, and living in harmony with the earth. We join our gifts with yours, trusting in the power of community to bring freedom, healing and love. New Member Affirmation (New members) We join the Unitarian Universalist Society East out of a desire and willingness to participate in a liberal religious congregation. We pledge to share our time, energy and gifts; to diligently seek our spiritual truths; and to strengthen the bonds of community. Music #1059 "May Your Life Be as a Song" Words: Jim Scott Music: Yuri Zaritsky May your life be as a song, Resounding with the dawn to sing awake the light. And softly serenade the stars, Ever dancing circles in the night. Joys and Concerns Musical Interlude Offering "We do not gather our gifts for ourselves, but to share with the larger community" Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of December will go to three area shelters: McKinney Men's Shelter (Hartford), East Hartford Community Shelter and Cornerstone Shelter (Rockville). Offering Music "Largo" from Harpsichord Concerto in f minor By J.S. Bach Mary Bopp, piano Sermon Being Present in the Dark Season Rev. Josh Pawelek Closing Hymn "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" Words, Latin c. 9th century, trans. composite base on John Mason Neale Music adapt. by Thomas Helmore O come, O come Emmanuel, and with your captive children dwell. Give comfort to all exiles here, and to the aching heart bid cheer. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Love to dwell. O come, you Splendor very bright, as joy that never yields to might. O come, and turn all hearts to peace, that greed and war at last shall cease. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Truth to dwell. O come, you Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by your presence here. And dawn in every broken soul as vision that can see the whole. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanual shall come within as Light to dwell. O come, you Wisdom from on high, from depths that hide within a sigh, to temper knowledge with our care, to render every act a prayer. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Hope to dwell. Extinguishing the Chalice Closing Circle May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of Earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.

Gathering Music  (Chris Crossgrove)                                      Welcome and Announcements (Anne Vogel)                                             Centering  (Stacey Musulin)                                                                                          Mini Body-Scan Meditation             By Lore Stevens   Prelude                                                                                   Introduction to the Service                                                Chalice Lighting                                                                    Look to This Day By Kalidasa   Look to this day: For it is life, the very life of life. In its brief course Lie all the verities and realities of your existence. The bliss of growth, The glory of action, The splendor of achievement Are but experiences of time.   For yesterday is but a dream And tomorrow is only a vision; And today well-lived, makes Yesterday a dream of happiness And every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well therefore to this day; Such is the salutation to the ever-new dawn!    Opening Hymn                                                                      #16 "‘Tis a Gift to Be Simple"                                         Words: Joseph Bracket Music: American Shaker tune  Chris Crossgrove, piano with Sandy Johnson, vocals (11:00 A.M.) ‘Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free, ‘tis a gift to come down where we ought to be, And when we find ourselves in the place just right, ‘twill be in the valley of love and delight.    When true simplicity is gained,  To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed.  To turn, turn will be our delight  ‘til by turning, turning we come ‘round right.     Time for All Ages / Reading 1                                                                                                Excerpts from All Creation Waits  (Children’s Edition) (Wood Frog, Painted Turtle, Striped Skunk) By Gayle Boss Illustrated by Sharon Spitz                                                                   Welcoming Visitors and Joys & Concerns                Musical Response                                                                              Reading 2                                                                               Excerpts from All Creation Waits   (Wood Frog, Painted Turtle, Striped Skunk) By Gayle Boss Illustrated by David G. Klein   Offering   The charitable giving offering for the month of December will be shared between three area shelters: McKinney Men's Shelter in Hartford, the East Hartford Shelter, and the Cornerstone Shelter in Rockville.                                                                                  Offering Music                                                           Sermon: "Reflections on the Present of Presence" (Anne Vogel)                                 Closing Hymn                                                                           Winds Be Still, #83                                                                  Words: Richard S. Kimball Music: Samuel Sebastian Wesley Chris Crossgrove, piano; Sandy Johnson, vocals (11:00 A.M.) Winds be still. Storm clouds pass and silence come. Peace grace this time with harmony. Fly, bird of hope, and shine, light of love, and in calm let all find tranquility.   Bird fly high. Lift our gaze toward distant view. Help us to sense life’s mystery. Fly high and far, and lead us each to see how we move through the winds of eternity.   Light shine in. Luminate our inward view. Help us to see with clarity. Shine bright and true so we may join our songs in new sounds that become full symphony.   Extinguishing the Chalice  (Quote from Pico Iyer)                                                          In an age of speed, I began to think, nothing could be more invigorating than going slow. In an age of distraction, nothing can feel more luxurious than paying attention. And in an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still.   Closing Circle      May faith in the spirit of life And hope for the community of Earth And love of the light in each other Be ours now, and in all the days to come.