As we kindle this the flame, we honor and remember Those who have passed into the mystery. Their brightness lives on in our vision; their courage lives on in our commitments; and their love continues to bless the world through us.

Think of where you feel safe and at peace. What’s the signal that tells you it’s okay to be at peace? (Ask for answers.) For people in the United States military, there’s a special signal that says “you’re okay, and you’re at peace.” It's a melody called "Taps," and it's only 24 notes...

We light this chalice in honor of Life’s sacred dance of living and dying. May its flame remind us of those who have passed to us fragments of holiness. May it remind us that we too are participants in the dance. inspired by Wendell Berry and Sara Moores Campbell...

I saw the parade pass by with the last soldier marching. I saw politicians stand by not in pride, but in shame as they recited the names of the dead and admitted their failure. I saw the marching band step in time to silence, no more hymns of glory could they play. I saw mothers and fathers say,...

On this green bank, by this soft stream, We place with joy a votive stone, That memory may their deeds redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone. —Ralph Waldo Emerson A green heron stands motionless on the bank of Emerson’s soft stream. In its beak it holds a fish, just the right size for...

The first time I ever played “Taps” was at summer camp when I was ten years old. That was the year I started playing trumpet, so I can only imagine how it sounded. I know there was no way that I could have hit the high note near the end. The first time I played Taps in honor of those who died...

"I am absurdly fearful, and various omens have combined to give me a dark feeling. I am become indeed a miserable coward, for the sake of Angelino. I fear heat and cold, fear the voyage, fear biting poverty....

"The ship struck at ten minutes after four A.M., and all hands, being mostly in their nightclothes, made haste to the forecastle, the water coming in at once. There they remained; the passengers in the forecastle, the crew above it, doing what they could. Every wave lifted the forecastle roof and...

“Her specter haunted all who knew her, and many who did not. Henry James, born in New York in 1843, stood beside his father on a Hudson River excursion boat and heard Washington Irving tell that Margaret Fuller had been drowned the day before. Even at the age of seven this small boy was resolved...

As we light the chalice and fully embrace the sacred space created here this morning, please hold in your hearts the Unitarian Universalist principle which calls upon us to respect the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part....