*Sunday, June 7, 2026 "Materials and Architects, Both" - Rev. Kelly Asprooth-Jackson

[music] [applause] >> Good morning and welcome to the First Unitarian Society of Madison. Welcome back to many of you. It is so good to see your faces in this space. Welcome back to the landmark meeting house on a Sunday morning in the summer. Did we forget how good this feels? I know there's folks who are joining us. I want to point out maybe it's the obvious in congregations. There are empty seats right up here in the front row. Please uh, feel free to come up here and join us. My name is Kelly Crocker and I'm one of the ministers here. Today, I'm joined by my colleague, the Reverend Kelly Aspers Jackson, by the worship team of Linda Orange, and Collins and Daniel Carnes. Special thanks to Brian Rainey and the members of the FUS Chime Choir for being with us on this special morning. >> [clears throat] >> And many thanks to all those who are volunteering. Our greeters are Aunt Smiley and Elizabeth Barrett. Ushers are March Schweizer and Cherry Langford. Coffee is being made by Genie Hills and Jen Gaber. Our lay minister is Lois Evenson. Thank you all. There There's still seats here in the very front row. And over here. At First Unitarian Society, we question boldly, listen humbly, grow spiritually, act courageously, and love unapologetically. If you're visiting us today, welcome. We're so very glad that you are with us. If you'd like more information about the congregation, please speak with one of us here in coffee hour. Speaking of coffee hour, today's will be held to your left in the Loja. So, please join us there. And it is the first Sunday of the month. So, members of our Board of Trustees will be in the Commons after service to answer any questions that you may have about the board and their work. Next Friday, June 12th at 5:00 p.m., there will be another family movie night. This time showing the film My Neighbor Totoro and including a potluck There is more information and the link for to RSVP are available on the flyer at the RE check-in table, which it is out in the lobby. And tickets are now available for Sweet Justice, our immigration justice fundraiser, which will be held on the evening of Friday, June 26th. Please see the Red Floors on the FUS website for more information and to get tickets. We can't say that it slows down here in the summer. It does not. And now, I invite you to join together in a moment of silence as we center ourselves and bring ourselves fully into this time, joining together once again in community. Here in this place of connection, may we find life-giving community. >> The central task of the religious community is to unveil the bonds that bind each to all, a relationship discovered amid the particulars of our own lives and the lives of others. >> Here in this place of rest, let the unrest of our hearts turn us toward justice. >> It is the church that assures us that we are not struggling for justice on our own, but as members of a larger community. >> Here in this place made sacred by memories of connection, let us each feel ourselves part of the new that grows from the old in the spiraling unity of years. >> The religious community is essential, for alone our vision is too narrow to see all that must be seen, and our strength too limited to do all that must be done. Together our vision widens and our strength is renewed. >> Here in this place of peace, may we find hope. And we invite you now to rise in all the ways we do. Joining in the words of affirmation printed on your order of service. >> We kindle this flame as a reminder of the covenant between our congregation and all other Unitarian Universalist communities to dismantle racism and all forms of systemic oppression. Let us work to build and be diverse, multicultural, beloved communities where all thrive. >> And before we join together in song, we invite you to take a moment to turn and greet those around you. >> All right, how are you? All right. Yeah, awesome. >> Good morning. Let's remain standing as we sing our opening hymn in the gray hymnnal number 354, 354. We laugh, we cry. >> [music] >> We laugh, we cry. >> [music] >> We live, we die. We dance and sing our song. We need to feel that something >> [music] >> here to which we belong. We need to feel the freedom, >> [music] [singing] >> trust to last a while. >> [music] >> Our lives are all we need to share. We can >> [music and singing] >> grow our love. And we believe >> [music] >> in >> [singing] >> life and we have found >> [music] >> a need >> [singing] >> We have our hearts to >> [music] >> give. We have our hearts to >> [music and singing] >> receive. And we believe that sharing is the answer. >> [music] >> When a child is born of >> [music] >> love's own we feel a special bond. We >> [music] >> see our endless strength as we watch them grow. >> [music and singing] >> We thrill to hear imagination >> [music] >> free. We >> [music] >> dedicate our minds to the spirit of And we believe >> [music] >> that we have the [music] And we have found >> [music] >> to be together. >> [music] >> And with the >> [singing] >> we share the wonder >> [music] >> And we believe >> [music] >> that growing is an answer. Our lives >> [music] >> are full Our time >> [music] >> No matter what our fills us >> [music] >> and free. But as >> [singing] >> we live so shall we >> [music] >> And when our lives No matter >> [music] >> what we with friends we believe >> [music] >> And we believe in >> [music] >> And in the light And we have found >> [music and singing] >> a place to be together. >> [singing] >> We have >> [music] >> the right to grow. We have the gift to believe. And we >> [music] >> believe that living is an answer. >> [music] [music] [singing] [music] [singing] [music] [singing] [music] [singing] [music] >> Friends, I have a story for you today. The name of this book is Wilfred Gordon McDonald Partridge. It is written by Mem Fox and illustrated by Julie Vivas. I will do my best to move about and give you some access to the pictures, but owing to the fact that there are a lot of us in this room right now. Uh you may not be able to see all of them that well, but if you see me after the service, I'll be happy to let you to through the book. So, here we go. There was once a small boy named Wilfrid Gordon MacDonald Partridge, and what's more, he wasn't very old, either. His house was next door to an old people's home, and he knew all the people who lived there. There he is showing off his belt. He liked Mrs. Jordan, who played the organ. He listened to Mr. Hosking, who told him scary stories. He played with Mr. Tippett, who was crazy about cricket. He ran errands for Miss Mitchell, who walked with a wooden stick, and he admired Mr. Drysdale, who had a voice like a giant. But his favorite person of all was Miss Nancy Allison Delacourt. Because she had four Wait a second. Nancy Allison Delacourt Cooper. There we go. Because she had four names, just as he did. He called her Miss Nancy, and he told her all of his secrets. And here he is spending time with Miss Nancy. One day, Wilfrid Gordon heard his mother and father talking about Miss Nancy. "Poor old thing," said his mother. "Why is she a poor old thing?" asked Wilfrid Gordon. "Because she's lost her memory," said his father. "It isn't surprising," said his mother. "After all, she is 96." "What's a memory?" asked Wilfrid Gordon. He was always asking questions. "It is something that you remember," said his father. But Wilfrid Gordon wanted to know more, so he called on Mrs. Jordan, who played the organ. "What's a memory?" he asked. Something warm, my child. Something warm. He called on Mr. Hosking, who told him scary stories. What's a memory, he asked. Something from long ago, my lad. Something from long ago. He called on Mr. Tibbit, who was crazy about cricket, you remember the rhyme. What's a memory, he asked. Something that makes you cry, my darling. Something that makes you cry. He called on Miss Mitchell, who walked with a wooden stick. What's a memory, he asked. Something that makes you laugh, my darling. Something that makes you laugh. He called on Mr. Drysdale, with a voice like a giant. What's a memory, he asked. Something as precious as gold, young man. Something as precious as gold. So, Wilfred Gordon went home again to look for memories for Miss Nancy, because she had lost her own. He looked for the shoe box of shells that he found long ago last summer and put them gently in a basket. He found a puppet on springs, which always made everyone laugh, and he put that in the basket, too. He remembered with sadness the medal which his grandfather had given him, and he placed it gently next to the shells. Next, he found his football, which was as precious as gold. And last of all, on his way to Miss Nancy's, he went into the hen house and he took a fresh, warm egg from under a hen. When Wilfred Gordon called on Miss Nancy and gave her each thing one by one. What a dear, strange child to bring me all these wonderful things." thought Miss Nancy. And then, she started to remember. She held the worn egg and told Wilfred Gordon about the tiny speckled blue eggs that she had once found in a bird's nest in her aunt's garden. She put the shell to her ear, remembered going to the beach by tram long ago, and how hot she had felt in her button-up boots. Here we see Miss Nancy in days gone by. She touched the metal and she talked sadly of the big brother that she had loved who had gone to the war and had never returned. She smiled at the puppet on the strings and remembered the one that she had shown to her sister and how she had laughed with a mouthful of porridge. She bounced the football to Wilfred Gordon and remembered the day that she had met him and all of the secrets that they had told and the two of them smiled and smiled because Miss Nancy's memory had been found again by a small boy who wasn't very old either. Thank you for listening to my story. >> Let's remain seated since these benches are kind of hard to get out of. Just sing our next hymn. These are Frank Lloyd Wright-sized benches. He had no problem getting out of them like that. >> I'm just going to >> Okay. >> My apologies. I should have said, "And now it's time for the children who are going to summer fun to go to summer fun." Sorry. >> Karen is right back there waving. You can meet up with her and she will take you where you need to go. >> Uh Linda, would you play this entire thing one time through since it's been exactly 364 days since we've sung this one? Number 65, Sweet June Days. >> [music] [music] [singing] [music] >> Our inspiration today from the poet Naomi Shihab Nye. The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds watching him from the birdhouse. The tear is famous briefly to the cheek. The idea you carry close to your bosom is famous to your bosom. The boot is famous to the earth. More famous than the dress shoe, which is famous only to floors. The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it and not at all famous to the one who is pictured. I want to be famous to shuffling men who smile while crossing streets. Sticky children in grocery lines. Famous as the one who smiled back. I want to be famous in the way of pulley is famous or a buttonhole. Not because it did anything spectacular, but because it never forgot what it could do. >> This is the second of two sermons memorializing the 75th anniversary of this building. And this weekend is our heritage week featuring a number of special events and tours. My deep thanks to the friends of the Meeting House, their board and guides for all of their efforts in organizing this and other activities to celebrate the 75 years that this structure has been our spiritual home. After today's service, there will be a special lecture right here by Charlie Foulke, who has been such a help to our congregation over many years consulting with us on the complex issues of preserving this building. He is going to speak to the specific work that it has taken to maintain this structure over the years. At a much, much deeper level than I could ever hope to. Instead, I want to take up a theme that I hope will resonate with his and celebrate and appreciate the people who, by their contributions and collective effort, made it possible for this building and its congregation to reach this current season. Because of our 75th anniversary, as well as the upcoming sesquicentennial of the Declaration of Independence, I have spent more time in our archives in the last 6 months than I did in the first 4 and 1/2 years after my arrival as one of your ministers. I've been looking for notes on the past from the past that might have some relevance to our present. And that is how I came across a transcript of a radio address that Max Gatler gave in 1976 on the subject of rootedness. He explained that word as meaning the recovery of the past, of the past not simply as an object to be looked at and studied, but as a possession that is truly ours. Rootedness must rest upon an awareness of the past as the source of one's own present being. He went on to say that this is precisely the meaning of religious community. It is a community which, in Simone Weil's words, preserves in living shape certain particular treasures of the past and certain particular expectations of the future. Those treasures include the remembered heroisms of the saints and martyrs, the moving words of forefathers spoken at moments of crisis or triumph, and the ritual acts which commemorate those deeds and those words. The particular expectations of the future include patterns of response to danger, to ethical challenge, to the great moments of birth and death. To belong to such a community is to have ready at hand models of human conduct to inspire and guide one. It is to know in one's heart how one ought to meet danger, what one's responsibility to one's neighbor mean. In short, it is the function of religious community to link its members with the deep and sustaining continuities of human hope and idealism and devotion. My hope this morning is to help to link us with those continuities of hope and idealism and devotion. But, not by leaning heavily on the great names in our history that most of you probably already know. Instead, by honoring the work which is quieter and less grandiose and without which neither we nor this edifice would be. >> [clears throat] >> Most of you probably know that there used to be a curtain that hung along that line there towards the back of the room where the low ceiling of the heart room meets the vault of the sanctuary. Set on runners, it allowed for the division of one room into two. Made the space more flexible and more accommodating for smaller meetings. The story is that it was made by women of the church, most or all of whom did not know how to weave at the beginning of the project. They had to take lessons and there were two looms borrowed from Taliesin, I am told. They were volunteers, amateurs, figuring out what they had to do to accomplish a task that simply needed doing. They created something beautiful and functional. We still have much of their handiwork today in sections. One of them is on display in that hallway there. But, it no longer hangs in its original position and no longer gets put to the use for which it was made. The congregation grew and found that it had less and less reason to divide this room into two. Many hands and many hours and an unknown amount of worry and wonder went into that curtain. But that was all to make something that was changeable, not eternal, not permanent because it is a part of something alive. Its very contribution helped that something, that community, our community, to live. Catherine Jacobs appears to have been their ringleader, but I do not have all of the names of all of the weavers for you this morning. I have only one segment of their work to point to, close in its clear case. Yet, their labor is a part of what has been passed to us. Their service to this building and to this community was to make something beautiful and useful and changeable. Each of those three qualities being profoundly important. And there is this only one in an infinity of examples of the necessary work from which our congregation has continuously remained itself. The Buddhist, anti-war activist and teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh, once used a piece of white paper as an illustration of a critical concept that he called interbeing. There is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain. Without rain, the trees cannot grow. And without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here, either. If we continue to look at the sheet of paper, we can see the sunshine in it. If the sunshine is not there, the forest cannot grow. Without the sunshine, nothing can grow, not even us. Looking more deeply, we can see the logger who cut the tree and brought it to the mill to be transformed into paper. We see also the wheat. We know that the logger cannot exist without his daily bread, so the wheat that became his bread is also the sheet of paper. Looking even more deeply, we can see also in the paper everything. Time, space, the earth, the rain, the minerals in the soil, the sunshine, the cloud, the river, the heat, even consciousness is in that sheet of paper. Everything coexists with it. To be is to interbe. To interbe is to be with, because of, and in cause of each and every other thing. And while Thich Nhat Hanh was describing a universal principle to be observed in every dimension of life, our religious community illustrates this principle particularly well, I think. A church is is simply a box in which someone stands up and says something profound for approximately 20 minutes each week. Nor is it just a venue for high-quality music of classical and occasionally other varieties. It is a vast network of lives living in relationship to each other and to other lives now past and to yet more lives which have yet to begin. And by this creating something with a life of its own. Because of this, every contribution, every act of service matters. The people who give the money to build the buildings and pay the employees, the people who convince them to give that money, the people who bake the cupcakes for dessert at the dinner where the second group of people talks to the first. Each of these is necessary. Each of these is a vital part of the larger whole. Ubuntu, a word and concept in both the Zulu and the Xhosa language of South Africa figures prominently in the social ethics of that country and other parts of Africa influenced by it. The Archbishop Desmond Tutu describing Ubuntu said "We believe that a person is a person through other persons. That my humanity is caught up, bound up inextricably with yours. When I dehumanize you, I inexorably dehumanize myself. The solitary human being is a contradiction in terms. Therefore, you seek to work for the common good because your humanity comes into its own in community, in belonging. We come into our humanity in community, and this is one of the places where we have the opportunity to do just that. So, I would be remiss if I did not highlight at least one major opportunity for you to do so. Now is the time of year when our annual efforts to recruit teachers for our children's religious exploration program are in full swing. I'm told that there is still room on teaching teams for a variety of ages and at a variety of service times. Please note that that opportunity to be a part of our faith formation work for and with children and youth is not restricted to parents. You do not have to have school-age children in your household currently. You don't even have to have any particular experience with children at all. Like the women who made that curtain, neither deep confidence nor extensive experience are required. But the important work of helping our young people to discover themselves morally and spiritually is available to you if you are willing to practice kindness and curiosity as a part of a teaching team. If you are interested to know more, I know that Karen Polnitz, our director of religious exploration, would love to talk with you after this service. Although the timing of this weekend's events and observances were set in part because it's his birthday tomorrow. I did not want to linger long on the memory of Frank Lloyd Wright in this service. But I did find a few lines that I thought were relevant for us today. From one of his favorite poets and mine. Walt Whitman in his Song of the Rolling Earth pronounces "Say on, sayers. Sing on, singers. Delve, mold, pile the words of the Earth. Work on, age after age. Nothing is to be lost. It may have to wait long, but it will certainly come in use. When the materials are all prepared and ready, the architects shall appear." We who are part of a community of faith like this one are materials and architects both. We envision what it is to be a congregation, what it means, how it ought to manifest in the world. But we are also the stuff of which that congregation is made. It takes a great many of us to continuously reconstitute this religious society, just as it took a great many more before us to carry it through from its beginning until now. As to build this building and to hand it on to us in good order. Now, not exactly a story here, but a small illustration. In Eritrea, in Eastern Africa, much of the countryside is very, very dry. The animals that are native to that climate have had to work out ways to find water to live on without the benefit of many rivers or lakes or streams. The elephants that live there, even though they are some of the largest animals on Earth and need a lot of water to survive, actually have a special advantage. They have these big, powerful trunks and working together, they are able to dig down into the soil and to find ground water, essentially making their own wells. Now, elephants are an endangered species and their population in Eritrea is particularly small. Hunting Hunting by humans and threats from other animal predators are a serious danger. But people have observed that some of the largest and most successful elephant groups do not live alone. Sometimes families of elephants and families of baboons share the same territory. The elephants have the water holes that they have dug and the baboons get to drink from them. The baboons have very good eyesight and a habit of climbing trees and when they see some danger approaching, they are very, very loud. So, the whole group benefits from having members who are different rather than all being the same. And that is also how it is with us. Our community is made stronger, healthier, more effective, and just more alive by the differences that we share and by our coming together to share them. Each one of us has some insight, some talent, some gift that no one else here has. And it is only by working together that we are able to draw up a longer of life and to share it with one another. Being different together sustains us. The farmer poet Wendell Berry keen observer of the land voice of lament for its desolation and champion for persistence amidst life's painful struggles wrote that Because we have not made our lives to fit our places the forests are ruined the fields eroded, the streams polluted, the mountains overturned. Hope then to belong to your place by your own knowledge of what it is that no other place is. And by your caring for it as you care for no other place. This place that you belong to though it is not yours for it was from the beginning and will be to the end. This place to which we belong is not ours. It passed into our care only because of the many before us who tended to it, who made themselves belong to it even though it was not theirs either. In time, we too shall pass it on to the next. And though this place will not even be theirs, we will be. We will be their ancestors as they will be our descendants. May we fulfill that calling of ancestorship well and appreciate how each of us contributes to it in our own particular and necessary way. >> [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] >> Thank you. I think that is its own particular kind of magic. How do you make that happen? We invite you now into a time of giving and receiving where we give freely and generously to this offering which supports the ongoing work of our community. There's multiple ways to share your gifts. You'll see on the order of service that you can donate directly from our website, and you will see the text to give information there as well, and baskets will now be passed here in the room. We thank you for your generosity and your faith in this life we create together. >> Yes. >> [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] [music] >> Yes. >> [music] [music] [bell] [music] [bell] >> Each week we gather together bringing with us the joys and the losses of our days. We share them here knowing they are held in love. Ann asked us to light a candle of gratitude saying, "Thank you all, the FUS community, for being my family. You affirm and enrich me with opportunities to embrace life." And we light a candle for all that lives in our hearts, the joys and the celebrations mingled with the sorrows and the loss. May we know we are held in love. If you'll join together now in a moment of prayer and contemplation with these words from Tess Bolinger, What will they say of us? That we lived upon this earth or that we lived with this earth? That we earned solely for ourselves or that we worked for the well-being of all? That we wasted precious life on vanities and empty diversions, or that we each day claimed a meaningful existence. That we shut ourselves into rigid individualism, or that we nestled in the love of our friends, families, and the whole interweave of humanity. What will they say of us? What would you have them say? Let us make each day not a beginning, not an exorcism from the past, cutting off the threads, but rather let us take any frayed edges and weave in new strengths, continuous but discernable, mending the harmed fabric, making it whole once more, creating the integral tapestry of life. May we rest in the silence for a moment together. Blessed be, and amen. >> [music] [music] >> Our closing hymn today is in the teal hymn book, known as number 154. It has a special history for us. A hymn was written for the opening of this building and this room and by the minister at the time, Kenneth Patton. Uh one of our UU bards, Jim Scott, rewrote the hymn, updated it, and this is it. Let this be a house of peace. I'll sing the first verse and invite you to join me after that. Please rise in body and or in spirit so we can sing together, "Let this be a house of peace." >> [music] [music] >> Let this be a house of peace. >> [music] >> Of nature and humanity, >> [singing] >> of sorrow and elation. [music] Let this be our house, a haven [music] [singing] for the healing >> [music] >> and a open room for prayer and >> [music] >> our inspiration. >> [music] >> Let this be a >> [singing] >> house of peace. >> [music] >> Let this be a house of peace. >> [singing] >> Let this be a house of peace. >> [music] >> Provided we >> [music] >> are silent. Let this be our >> [music] >> house, a platform for our free voice, where >> [music] >> all we shall not Let this be our house of peace. >> [music] >> Let this be our house >> [music] >> where all our dreams are >> [music] >> Let science and find a >> [music] >> Let this be our house of our >> [music] >> Let this be >> [music] >> answer the great >> [music] >> Let this be >> [music] >> Let this be house of >> [music] >> Let this house of peace. A vision for our We are >> [music] >> Let this be >> [singing] >> house of >> [music] [music] >> vision and and free >> [music] >> Let this be Let this be >> [music] >> Let this be Let this be >> [music] >> Let this be Let this be >> [music] >> Let this >> [music] >> Our time in this place may have ended, but our connection to each other in this community remains. Together may we walk the path of justice, speak words of love, live the selfless deed, trot gently upon the earth, and fill the world with compassion until we meet again. Blessed be. Go in peace, and please be seated for the postlude. >> [music] [music] >> Woo! >> [applause] [applause] >> Woo! Woo! >> Mhm.