I need to celebrate our human family, whose power and potential shimmer against the backdrop of deep time, because we aren’t at our best right now.

Our chalice reminds us that the fire within ourselves is the same fire that illuminates the Universe. It is our reminder that all is connected even though the space of the void is vast, and our experience here is but a blip in the cosmic timeline....

People move places for jobs, relations, opportunities, escape, hindering our ability to put down new roots. And yet, we carry a constancy: the still, quiet voice within.

The ancient Greek philosopher Pythagoras taught that the universe was composed entirely of numbers, and numbers corresponded to music. So the entire universe, all of reality, including us, was composed of numbers and music. The seven planets of the ancient world each resonated a frequency outward...

It would be a quieter holiday, no fireworks or loud parades, no speeches, no salutes to any flag, a day of staying home instead of crowding away, a day we celebrate nothing gained in war but what we’re given — how the sun’s warmth is democratic, touching everyone, and the rain is democratic...

I invite you to enter a period of quiet for a guided meditation. You may wish to adjust your position so that your spine is straight, your body relaxed, your hands resting gently in your lap. You will probably want to close your eyes and shut out all the distractions of the light....

Let us hold a quiet moment now as we light our Chalice. Henry David Thoreau wrote in his journal on February 2nd, 1841: "A child asked his father what became of the old moon, and he said it was cut up into stars." Consider the light. Light out of darkness. Light begets light....

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...

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.

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....

“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.

Life is full of seesaws: it offers us moments of extreme wonder and moments of fear. Sometimes you have to live through the fear for the wonder to arrive.

I do not wish to breathe another breath if it is not shared with others. The breath of life is not mine alone. I brought myself to be with you, hoping that by inhaling the compassion, the courage, the hope found here, I can exhale the fear, the selfishness, the separateness I keep so close to my...

Those of us who call ourselves religious Humanists have a strong reverence for life. Many of us experience a deep sense of awe before the mystery of life and death, those powers greater than ourselves. We share a respect for science and reason, and we are willing to live with ambiguity to live...

Our light is the light of the sun, keeper of all we love; our light is the light of the earth, provider of sustenance; our light is the light of all living things, life precious like our own....

The Solstices teach us that darkness comes, that darkness goes. The Solstices teach us that light comes, that light goes. The Solstices teach us, calmly, silently, to be calm, silent. Learning. The Solstices teach us as we circle the sun that everything flies....

What is the history of any thing? This apple, let's say, that my grandson just picked as he sits on my shoulders, feet dangling like parentheses around my heart?...