You say you want a revolution

March 3, 2026 by tom Posted in Audio available, Chris Jimmerson, Sermons

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
March 1, 2026
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

As the song says, “Well, you know, we all want to change the world.” The thing is, we can’t romanticize the revolution. Revolutions can be hard and messy, and last beyond singular lifetimes. The world resists change mightily, at times with the starving of souls and the spilling of blood. How do we sustain ourselves through the long revolution? Perhaps, in the words of author and justice activist Dorothy Roberts, “We have to start with ourselves, and our most intimate relationships…”. Perhaps we start by building what have been called “Islands of Sanity” together.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

CLEARING
by Martha Postlethwaite

Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create
a clearing
in the dense forest
of your life
and wait there
patiently,
until the song
that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know
how to give yourself
to this world
so worthy of rescue.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

From RESTORING SANITY
by Margaret J. Wheatley
At this time when lives and possibilities are destroyed by casual destructive decisions, l aspire for us to be sane leaders devoted to restoring and awakening the finest qualities of being human – our generosity, creativity, and kindness. We may not change the world, but we can create Islands of Sanity where our human spirits come alive and we contribute in ways that make more possible.

Sermon

THE LAYERS
by Rosemary Wahtola Trommer

Furrowed and runnelled and rough,
the gnarled bark of this old cottonwood.
The dead thickness protects living tissue from cold,
from wind, from flames.

I, too, am older,
but somehow survival shows up for me the opposite.
Any shields I would build up as barriers –
life keeps peeling them away.
What thickens around me now
are layers of dynamic compassion –
vital, vulnerable,ever-growing.

They do not protect against wounds.
Instead, they seem to say,
“Be with what aches, my dear.
Trusting discomfort is the only way.”

So, I’ve been out on sabbatical for two months, leaving me way too much time to think.

Overthink. That cherished Unitarian Universalist pastime and spiritual practice.

And I’ve been reading and watching and grieving and even feeling traumatized by what is happening in our communities, our nation, our world.

A racist President posting racist memes on social media.

A continuing cover up by our Department of Supposed Justice of the sexual abuse and trafficking of children by some of the most powerful people in this country, including, potentially, people within our current administration going all the way up to the President himself.

Not so veiled threats to voting and democracy.

Continuing attempts at the erasure of BIPOC folks, LGBTQI+ folks, and so many more at the Smithsonian, the Stonewall National Monument and on and on.

Illegal military actions, wag-the-dog war, like the one just started.

The invasion and occupation of U.S. cities and states by our own national government, the latest and perhaps most egregious in Minneapolis Minnesota.

I am so proud of and so grateful to our Rev. Carrie for answering the call for faith leaders to go to Minneapolis to bear witness and engage in resistance to the state inflicted terror, violence, and murder being committed by our federal government on the streets of that city.

Well, I could go on and on, as I know could all of you, about the many desecrations of love, justice, compassion, democracy, equity – the very foundations of the way so many of us construct our moral, ethical worldview, not to mention the very foundations of our faith and that of so many world religions – the values to which this country of ours has always claimed to aspire but never lived out.

So, my beloveds, I have been thinking bout a revolution.

And this morning, as our song earlier said, we are gonna be talkin’ bout a revolution.

Don’t give this over-thinker too much sabbatical time, apparently.

I started with that poem earlier because I have been thinking that if we truly want a revolution, truly want to change the world, we are going to have to learn to think about the revolution in news ways.

We are going to have to realize that what the revolution we really want, the one that ultimately creates the Beloved Community, what that revolution is up against is a political ideology that has turn racism, white supremacy, patriarchy, white nationalism, other faith xenophobia and multiple other forms of bigotry and oppression into a religion – a religion it quite often fraudulently claims as Christianity.

And this ideology, this idolatry, is not new.

Indeed, while we are a nation founded in those aspirational values I mentioned earlier, yes, but also founded in slavery, racism, patriarchy, classism and casteism and more.

So this revolution is also not new. This revolution is ongoing. It is a continuation of the revolution BIPOC folks and feminists and womanists and LGBTQI+ folks and so many more have been waging for centuries now.

It is a continuing revolution that will not be short. A revolution that will never easy. A revolution that will too often continue to be opposed with the destruction of lives and the spilling of blood, as we’ve just witnessed in Minnesota and elsewhere.

And so, to sustain the kind of systemic, institutional, cultural change that such an ongoing, long-term revolution will require, will require US to shed our gnarled bark, our barriers of privilege, be vulnerable, get comfortable with the inevitable aches and discomforts of real change – these are the only way to wrap ourselves and others in those layers of dynamic compassion about which the poet writes.

To create the world we dream about at the end of the revolution, which will likely be beyond our lifetimes, we have to live our lives with the vulnerability, kindness, sense of justice, and love of each other as equals that we wish to see in our larger world.

We have to create this in our daily lives, our families, our relationships, our communities, right here within these church walls and then carry it beyond them .

And the lovely thing is, doing so is what will provide us with the resilience to sustain that larger revolution.

I’m currently reading the book, The Mixed Marriage Project; A Memoir of Love, Race, and Family, by award winning researcher and author on racism, class, and gender, Dorothy Roberts.

l’ve also listened to interviews with Roberts about it, in which she grapples with her white father’s (and later her black mother’s) research through interviews with interracial couples over several decades.

Had her mother been a part of her father’s research? How had she herself fit into his project? Could she resolve the disagreement she had held with her father over whether interracial intimacy could be a part of dismantling racial hierarchies in our country as opposed to the structural changes on which she had been concentrating in her own research?

I want to let you hear her describe what she came to:

Video

Throughout my career, I have shied away from the issue of interracial intimacy and interracial marriage. I never really tackled that. And I’ve always thought that it wasn’t as important a topic as the ones I was working on. And I think part of it also was this debate I had with my father about whether interracial intimacy could overcome racism.

And because I felt so strongly that it could not, I think I shied away from grappling with that question in my own research. But as I read the interviews stretching from the 1930s to the 1960s, and he actually went on to interview couples into the 1980s, I started to change my view of that because it was so clear to me that the regulation of race and family and interracial intimacy, interracial marriage has been such an important way that the government has reinforced a racial hierarchy.

And so if I was to be concerned about a racial hierarchy and I want to dismantle it. I think that this topic is one that I should wrestle with. I think it’s really important to grapple with the question of how do we love each other in a racist society? How can we cross the huge chasm of race that’s been created and reinforced historically in America to be able to love each other as equal human beings? And I began to see that that actually is the question I’ve been asking throughout my career. And my father’s papers and working on the memoir and really wrestling more with it was a transformative experience for me.

Elsewhere, she also talks of how she came to reconcile her father’s passion for his research, which began before he met her mother, with his deep love and commitment to his family.

I wonder if before we can fully work for abstract notions of equality in our world, we must engage in the lived experience of loving equally in our own lives.

Now of course, that could be friendships and other types of relationships, but I do think we have to be in equitable relationship across our differences if we ever hope to create change together in solidarity.

Maybe part of the revolution then, is learning not just to love across difference, but to love difference itself.

This creating relationships in which we love our multiple, beautiful ways of being human, love each other as equal human beings in our daily lives and in our communities, is a vital part of how we might sustain the long revolution through what researcher, author and poet Margaret J Wheatley calls “Islands of Sanity.”

Here is how she describes this:

“An Island of Sanity is a gift of possibility and refuge created by people’s commitment to form healthy community to do meaningful work. It requires … unshakable faith in people’s innate generosity, creativity, and kindness.

It sets itself apart as an island to protect itself from the life-destroying dynamics, policies, and behaviors that oppress and deny the human spirit.

No matter what is happening around us, we can discover practices that enliven our human spirits and produce meaningful contributions for this time.”

Sounds a lot like what we aspire to in this religious community, doesn’t it?

And I think folks in the communities throughout Minneapolis and surrounding areas have created their own beautiful version of this,

forming networks of support,
providing one another mutual aide,
setting up rapid response communications systems to warn each other of danger when the federal invasion was drawing close to their communities and to expose the violence being perpetrated upon their communities.

They set up loving communities of mutuality, love, and support – regular folks defending and taking taking care of each other that model the world of which we dream – the Beloved Community for which we strive.

And from there, the revolution spreads.

Not far away from us, in San Antonio, a young woman named Ashley Fairbanks was horrified as she watched the news pour out of her home town of Minneapolis.

She used her social media and website design skills to launch a site called “Stand with Minnesota” to provide direct assistance to families under siege. The site has received over 2.5 million hits and resulted over 20 million dollars in aide being sent to Minnesotans put at risk by the actions of ICE and other federal agents.

This is not a charitable organization – it simply helps neighbors connect with neighbors, people connect with people from across the country to provide aide for folks who have been unable to pay rent, afford transportation costs, shop, obtain food, or tend to the many basic necessities of life for fear of being endangered by federal agents – or because parents have been separated from children – or when folks have been removed from their homes and taken to detention centers halfway across the country.

What started as just one person’s project has created Islands of Sanity in a sea of ideologically driven, intentionally created chaos.

AND, I think, creating these Islands of Sanity will also involve doing what Rev. Carrie and so many other religious professionals did in answering the call to go to Minnesota. They not only joined folks in those communities in solidarity, witness, and support, they leveraged whatever status and privilege may come from being a faith leader and any other social locations they might hold to amplify that witness and support, AND, AND, they were willing to put that privilege, indeed their own bodies and physical wellbeing at risk to be in solidarity.

Sustaining the long revolution will require that more and more of us be willing to do the same in order to create those relationships of love as equals, the Islands of Sanity we will need to survive the seas of chaos that will continue to be thrown our way.

Now, I want to hasten to add that movement organizing, vigils, marches, voting, political activism – the types of social/political justice work in which our social action council and our Texas UU Justice Ministry engage, aimed at creating change at the structural level – these are vital and necessary too.

These activities and the the Islands of Sanity we have been talking about go hand-in-hand.

Living life and creating communities with the vulnerability, kindness, sense of justice, and love of each other as equals that we wish to see in our world, will help give us the resilience we need to sustain our structural/political activism.

And, the Islands of Sanity can provide the beginning of a model, an infrastructure that could be built upon on our way toward that revolutionary end – the Beloved Community.

MY Beloveds, this revolution will not end quickly. It will at times be difficult and heartbreaking. We may not know how it ends within our lifetimes.

Centered in a fierce love though, may we soften our hearts, learn to be with what aches, my dears, trust the discomfort, so that what thickens around us are layers of dynamic compassion – vital, vulnerable, ever-growing.

This is the powerful spiritual strength that will carry us through the long revolution.

Amen.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

from IMPOSSIBLE GENEROSITY
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

I want to give you what I could not give you,
a world where there is no hurt or grief.
a world where you don’t know
ravaged and sleepless nights,
don’t know mornings too quiet
or the color of dirt in the cemetery.

Because I cannot give you this,
I want to give you the certainty
that you can live fully in a world
where there is hurt and grief,
that you can meet what is most painful
and at the same time
turn toward what is beautiful.

I want to give you a love so safe
that you grow into yourself
certain that there is nothing
you can do or not do
that could keep me from loving you.
I have been loved like this, too,
and did not know the enormity of the gift
until I longed to give it to you.

I want you to take it for granted
that love is so vast, so unshakeable,
so true. I want to give you the belief
in your resilience, want you to know yourself
as a flower that grows more vigorously
after it’s been cut back.

I would keep the hands from cutting you,
but since I can’t do that,
I want to be the soil, the rain, the sun.

I want to give you what cannot be given,
want to give you what you have given me –
the astonishment of living with you
in a time of hurt and grief
and the miracle of watching you grow.

May the congregation say “amen”, and “blessed be”. I love you fiercely.

Go in peace.

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Unveiling the Mother behind God

February 25, 2026 by tom Posted in Audio available, Guest Speakers, Sermons

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Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Dr. Leona Stucky-Abbott
February 22, 2026
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Infants begin to develop their brains in the context of a mothering matrix, which involves the important relationships of their early years. Internalized relational patterns gradually establish expectations and structures for how babies think. Their novice experiences also distort who mother is and why she exists. These distortions mirror the ways humans construct their relationships with the Divine.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

Black History Moment: Elandria Williams

This morning we are called into worship by taking a moment for Black History by lifting up Elandria Williams. According to the Country Queer podcast Elandria Williams identified as a Black, southern Appalachian, disabled, gender-queer, pansexual, Unitarian Universalist.

They was one of the co-founders of Black Lives of Unitarian Universalism or BLUU They were a leader co-founding many different organizations and movements all with the goal of liberation. Before their death in 2020, Elandria served as a UUA co-Moderator following the Hiring Controversy.

Elandria led a short but powerful life in which their heart, activism, and tireless commitment to ant-racism and anti-oppression has profoundly changed Unitanan Universalist for the better. Here is their poem:

WE ARE WORTHY

We are worthy
Not because of what we produce
But because of who we are
We are divine bodies of light and darkness
You are not worthy because of what you offer
not because of what is in your mind,
not for the support you give others.
not for what you give at all
We are worthy and are whole just because
In this great turning, in this great pandemic,
in this radical readjustment and alignment
We are not disposable, we are needed
we are the very people that have withstood everything that has been thrown at us as a people
and as Maya Angelou would say
Still I Rise
We arise from the pain
We rise from the grief
We arise from the limits people place on us and
the limits we place on ourselves
We rise to be the children and the ancestors
We rise to be our true selves
Our true selves in relationship to our families
and communities
Recognizing our liberating and whole selves
Honoring them and others as we strive for
abundant communities, abundant lives, abundant
relationships, and abundant
values and
cultural manifestations
We are worthiness personified
I, you, and we are worthy and deserve a life
where we are not always fighting for our existence
Imagine what we could create if we were not always in the struggle
Imagine what we could envision if we could just be let to just go there
So tired of always having to resist, to fight, demanding, pushing
To everyone that has the courage, the power, the
ability to co-create what we want and need
while rooting in what we can’t lose and who we are
You are the visionary
You are the hope
You are our ancestors’ dreams
No, you might not ever end up on some list somewhere
But you are on a list in someone’s heart and mind
And if it’s in how you move in the world so people can see by example

You are the embodiment of what we need
Thanks to all that are the embodiment
The embodiment not of productivity but
the embodiment of radical love, care and sanctuary
It’s time
Embodiment time
Embodiment
Living ones values out loud
Let me everyday live my values out loud
Let us everyday live our values out loud
Embodying our values
Not the productivity quotient
Beyond productivity
Past productivity
True embodiment
Life
By Elandria Williams

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

Psalms 139

O Lord, thou hast searched me and known me. Thou Knowest when I sit down and when I rise up; Thou discernest my thoughts from afar. Thou searchest out my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether. Thou dost beset me behind and before, and layest thy hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain it.

Whither shall I go from thy Spirit! Or whither shall I flee from thy presence! If I ascend to heaven, thou art there! If I make my bed in Sheol, thou art there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there thy hand shall lead me and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Let only darkness cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to thee, the night is bright as the day; for darkness is as light with thee.

For it was you who formed my inward parts; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you for l am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works, that I know very well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed. How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! I try to count them – they are more than the sand. I awake in the end – I am still with you.

Sermon

UNVEILING THE MOTHER BEHIND GOD

Thank you for letting me share with you again. I really appreciate the privilege.

It may be difficult for some of you to hear about the mothering matrix. As a therapist, I know how tender the mix of pain and love can be with our very human mothers. And yet, the crucible of healing is often found where hurt and hope meet. So take a deep breath and protect yourself if you need.

Talking about mothering does not mean that fathering is less important or less difficult. Historically, fathers were often cast as the expendable ones, sent into danger and away from daily care, Human history, for all genders, holds both joy and suffering-and plenty of it.

Focus on healing – there is no shortage of mother love or loving mothers and we treasure mothering relationships. They often are our best and most meaningful connections, Profound wisdom lives inside those years of loving each other.

GIVING GOD RELATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS

It was probably the Greeks, three or four hundred years before Christ, who can be “blamed” for hooking us into gendered dualism. They wanted to rank characteristics. Somehow the meme got started, and our early Christian fathers picked it right up. We already had Christ as the head of the Church and man as the head of woman. They also dictated that because woman was weaker, she should obey. Likely the Church Fathers didn’t appreciate women’s ways of thinking, so rational vs. emotional got thrown in. Above and below, namer and named, creator and creation, and all the rest of the valued opposites came along.

The intent was to show that, just as Christ is of higher value than the Church, man was then of higher value than those who obey him. And thus gendered dualism became a meme with serious staying power. After 2000 years you can find it, in various forms, in the newly released Heritage document. Remember the people who wrote Project 2025? They produced a new document, Building a Stronger America, with a segment on family.

So now we “know” who God is. He is the one on the esteemed side with Man, and Woman is on the demeaned side. It’s clear, right?

Today, a curve ball is headed right at the gendered dualism list.

Let’s ride that curve for a minute by asking where the Greeks found that idea – Where did people actually experience that dualism list in their daily lives? Did they? To really understand it, we need to become babies and experience life as it came to us from the time we were born.

D. W. Winnicott, a celebrated child psychiatrist and theorist, says that we first learned that reality could relate positively to human beings through feeding. As infants we felt hungry, and mother’s breast or a bottle came to us, helping us transform from a negative feeling state, hunger, to a positive one. Warm milk tasted good and sustained us. Of course, we did not have religious words like “transformation” but we gradually internalized a pattern of experience that became a hope and expectation: when we need something, with the right kind of seemingly magical help, we can get it. You know, the Rolling Stones –

“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try real hard, you might find, you get what you need.”

That’s the spirit we learned from day one.

We cry or fuss, and sure enough, somebody picks us up, brings our cheeks to her lips, rocks us, hugs and holds us, bounces us on her knee, changes our diaper, sings to us, distracts our attention to some better focus – someone figures it out for us and we feel better. And somewhere along the way we begin to understand that this magical reality-shapeshifter person is big while we are little; she is strong while we are weak; she seems rational while we feel emotional; she has wondrous knowledge while we know almost nothing; she is creator and we are creation; she seems to be everywhere at once, like she has our whole world in her hands; and we feel best of all when we are one with her.

In other words, mothers, fathers, and the significant others who assist-the mothering matrix – is our first God. (sometimes also our last God.) But her relationship to us lays the foundation for the falsely gendered opposites that have meemed their way into our conception of who God is and who we are.

Dr. Ahna Maria Rizzuto, who wrote The Psychological Birth of the Living God, claims that by age two and a half, toddlers who live in a Christian culture, even if their parents are atheists, will have a basic internal sense of God. These toddlers think of God as the one who lives in that big house on the street corner. And they know their God-character is really special. Toddlers’ internal God image is typically made up of aspects of their internalized significant others – like mom and dad.

So now we, as young’uns have an internal magical God with whom we can relate, who has some special powers put at our disposal if He likes us. Pretty cool.

In our “Owning Your Religious Past” class a few weeks ago, I remembered an old image of myself, age four, standing in the dark stairwell at night. Before I climbed the stairs I started praying out loud. I wanted that monster in the closet at the top of the stairs to hear that I had God with me. If Mommy or Daddy were with me – little fear. But alone, I only had God, and though I was still afraid with my God at my side, that was much better than no protection. And guess what: my prayers were answered. That monster did not show his face as I ran past the closet and took a flying leap into the bed.

The human imagination of who God might be is deeply embedded in the functions of the mothering matrix. That’s not surprising because the mothering matrix is our first experience of relationship, and a highly dependent, hard-to-describe relationship.

Psalm 139 illustrates quite well how an infant might feel in relationship to mother, but Psalm 139 gives those traits to God. That dearly treasured psalm feels potent to the four-year-old inside us. Plus it has a theological message with wide appeal. First, God is personally involved in the in-utero creation and development of all human beings. Secondly, God loved us personally, before we knew how to love. Therefore every life is sacred. No matter what circumstance we are born into, according to this theology, we have a starting point with God’s love.

Psalm 139’s theology seems quite beautiful in several ways – but falls short in others.

WHERE MOTHER DISAPPEARS

Mommies are not acknowledged for what mommies do. Mommies know when we sit down or rise up. Mommies have magical eyes behind their heads. Before a word is on our tiny tongues, mommies know it. Their knowledge is too wonderful for us, so high that we cannot attain it. Wherever we might try to go, there is mother and therefore we are safe. For it was mothers who formed our inward parts and “knit” them together in their wombs. How weighty for us are mothers’ thoughts. How vast the sum of them.

The credit for this wonderful saving relationship goes straight to God and, via God, is mirrored back to humanity as manly traits. Mother is wiped out of the picture. Her treasured traits seem to belong not I to her but to a male God. Though we consciously know better, we have a tendency to remove her.

Intrapsychically, a similar experience deprives us of full awareness of how mother is there for us day in and day out. Her most intensive caregiving, in our first few years, happens before we have memories. It is surprisingly difficult for us to fill those unremembered years with appreciation. And almost no one publicizes the incredible work of those years.

Perhaps because we don’t consciously remember those years, we don’t have a strong sense of mother being there for us. Our faith pictures of Deity fail to mirror back the reality of her existence and her deeds. She is disempowered by our God images, and – until the feminist movement in the 1970s – also disempowered in our wider world images. When images of women became more ubiquitous, the dissing of Mother began to shift. These tendencies to discredit mother’s work and blame mother for not being there still hold tremendous power in our unconscious minds, even when corrected in our conscious knowing.

With this faith traditions, believers and even nonbelievers have a difficult time finding clarity. What is real or not real in our beliefs about Mother and God? For a number of years, now, that question divides us. If God is the one who creates new life and “knits” together our pieces in mother’s womb, why should mother have any say about it? Her body is God’s tool.

On the other hand, those who comprehend what a woman goes through – when her body and chemistry and psyche make massive changes to create and nurture united cells into human form, and to birth a baby that is huge compared to what her body can reasonably deliver, and then to take on the challenge of caring for and loving, with a mother’s love, which usually involves significant sacrifice all through the growing years from infant into adulthood, and to love this new creation for the rest of her whole life – anyone who understands and lets go of the confusion about who does the creation work, a woman or God, would surely support a woman’s right to choose everything about her circumstances, including when she will nurture and birth a child.

GOD, MOTHER, AND FINAL HOPES

Another place where God and Mother twist into confusing roles is where the faithful count on God to do what mother has done for us in our infancy. We hope against hope that God will have the magical power that once, likely long ago, belonged to mother. On our deathbed, we want God’s mothering – Good enough mothering – that when, like an infant, we must again experience the primary dependence of helplessness-unto-death, we will be saved by a Mothering God who will create us anew, provide for our needs in an alternate home, mirror an identity to us, and love us enough to make life good.

That is who we want: a God who is a good-enough mother, but with supernatural powers that a mother could not have. What we want, and what we get? Who knows?

Our mothers were destined to become human beings in our eyes. Likely not all at once, but her ignorance, her willfulness against ours, her missteps, her exhaustion, her meanness, selfishness, inabilities, laziness, busyness – these were all heavy blasts against our illusion of her greatness as a need-satisfying person.

Gradually, we had to accept that she was just a human with as many imperfections as any other human, and maybe more, because historically she had to make herself real and powerful when much of her world was against her. No one would covet that role. All of her failures registered profoundly with us because she was our savior, the one who got us through, somehow.

Many times it wasn’t pretty. Many times she didn’t have a clue how to be helpful – or she didn’t care. All of that hurts because we weren’t big enough to know what to do. When we got into jams that she couldn’t transform, it really hurt. Much of the time, we experienced our troubles as her failure. Our pain is disproportionately experienced in relation to mother. Often as Mother’s fault.

GRADUATE STORY

I’ll give you a quick illustration and then close. We’re almost done.

In 1988 several friends and I were graduating with our doctoral degrees. Standing in line on this glorious day, waiting to process in, John (not his real name) said he “could just feel his mother sitting out there in the crowd, bearing with pride. She’s soaking up all the credit for everything I did to achieve this degree.” He said.

Marilyn said, “My mother isn’t even here. As is typical for us, there’s always something more important in her life than celebrating me. She is now on a cruise to Europe with her friend. She tried to excuse it, saying the tickets were a much better price for these particular dates.”

And I added that my mom died many years ago. “I’m feeling a kind of emptiness.” I said. “If my mom were here, I’d feel twice as good about graduating. I can’t get the feeling she is sharing this with me. It all seems pretty empty.”

I don’t know. With doctoral graduates like that – what’s a mother to do?

I’m not dismissing our issues with our very human mothers. I know all too well the kind of hurt we carry in relation to them, and when we experience too much injury with our mothers, we are truly broken. And the other way around – when we feel too much injury with our children, we are broken. It takes a long time to heal, and we often need a helpful process for that to happen. These are tender concerns, often impacting our theologies.

Profound love and delight shared with mothers.

CLOSING: FREUDIAN SIPS

Usually we start with show and tell at the beginning, but I’m ending with it. My son gave me this coffee cup a number of years ago. We laughed together because, somehow, who knows how, it was so real for both of us. The front of the cup has a picture of Freud saying, “When you say one thing, but mean your mother.” On the back of the cup it says, “Freudian Sips.”

Needless to say, it’s my favorite coffee cup.

The last thought I’m offering, may be a few Freudian slips combined: Likely our historical Judeo-Christian God – or most any God – wouldn’t mean much without Mother, way out ahead, paving the way for Him.

And the people said, Amen.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

May we expand the generational love we bring to one another and to our world.

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

Blue Hats, Pink Hearts, and the Power of Love

February 16, 2026 by tom Posted in Audio available, Guest Speakers, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Bis Thorton
February 15, 2026
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Our world is full of so much greed, violence, and hatred. Many of us have begun to wonder: “Is love really enough?” Recently, the Texas UU Justice Ministry (TXUUJM) joined 30 partner organizations in a procession to the ICE family detention center outside of Dilley, Texas. Join TXUUJM Intern Minister Bis Thornton for a journey through the events of that day. Together we will explore what it means to hold love at the center of all things.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

We are recognizing Black History Month, by learning about and lifting up the amazing Frances Ellen Watkins Harper. Harper was a black woman born in 1825 to free parents. She used her life and her talents to work for the abolition of slavery, civil rights, education, and suffrage. She held dual affiliations with both Unitarians and the African Methodist Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. At a time when Christianity was being used to sanction slavery, Harper challenged Unitarians and other Christians to embody the libertarian message of Jesus.

She participated in the Underground Railroad, corresponded with John Brown, lectured across the United States and Canada about the evils of slavery. She wrote both poetry and fiction to help bring about those realities to the reader, as well as a message of liberation. After the abolition of slavery, she put her energy into suffrage, into universal education, and to civil rights.

Speaking to the National Women’s Rights Convention in New York, she said, we are all bound up together in one great bundle of humanity, and society cannot trample on the weakest and feeblest of its members without receiving the curse in its own soul. Harper is such a beautiful example of a person who used her talents and her value to work for liberation.

She not only spoke out against injustice, but she also painted a beautiful picture of the world we could have. Her poetry and fiction and short stories were both prolific and widely read, and she may have been the most read author, African-American author of the 19th century. But because she was both black and a woman, white supremacy and patriarchy did its best to bury her name after her death in 1911.

That’s until a few decades ago when her work was rediscovered. Her message has been found to be just as empowering today as it was in her time. Professor Melba Joyce Boyd said, Harper’s insight developed during an era rife with violent enforcement of racism, sexism, and classism constitutes a viable ideological framework for contemporary radical thought. She is an amazing Unitarian.

And you can learn more about her on your order of service. Here is a link to learn more about her. ///////////////////////////////

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

From Terrence Dixon’s 1971 documentary titled, MEETING THE MAN, JAMES BALDWIN IN PARIS

“Love has never been a popular movement, and no one’s ever really wanted to be free. The world is held together, really it is held together, by the love and the passion of a very few people. Otherwise, of course, you can despair. Walk down the street of any city any afternoon, and look around you. What you’ve got to remember is what you’re looking at is also you. Everyone you’re looking at is also you. You could be that person. You could be that monster. You could be that cop. And you have to decide in yourself not to be.”
– James Baldwin

Sermon

NOTE: This is an edited ai generated transcript.
Please forgive any omissions or errors.

It’s Tuesday night, and I am setting out my clothes for the next day. Tomorrow, I will get on a bus with many other people and travel to Dilly, Texas. Those detained inside have been demanding their release, shouting libertad, freedom.

We are coming to demand the same from the outside. I prepare my clothes. My shirt with the minister’s collar, a sweater, blazer, slacks, wool socks for my boots. We are planning to wear blue in solidarity with Liam Ramos, the little boy taken from Minnesota to Texas who was photographed wearing a blue rabbit hat. And every time I look at that now famous photo of him, I cry. He reminds me of my little brother, who sometimes goes by Mr. Cat.

He reminds me of the Palestinian children in photos who are lost or crying or scared, but who have signs of their joy nearby, a toy, a blanket, a shirt given to them by someone who wanted them to be safe. He reminds me of the children taken to Indian schools and the children who were born in internment camps, and he reminds me of the adults that those children grow into. I don’t own any blue clothing. I remember that my spouse Evan has a baby blue keffiyeh with a rainbow olive branches on it. I ask if I can wear it, and of course Evan says yes. I hang it up next to my outfit for tomorrow.

It’s Wednesday morning. It’s not yet dawn. I am greeting people as they arrive at the church to board the bus to Dilley. I ask everyone as they come up to me, are you coming on the bus with us today? People either say yes, or they say no, actually I’m going to carpool.

One woman says, no, but can you help me? I tell her I’m not sure, but she can come inside and have some breakfast and sit with us while we figure it out together.

A tiny fox trots around the church. I see people pointing at it and taking photos and smiling. People are excited for breakfast. A young man holding an iced coffee shakes my hand and we laugh about how cold his hands are.

I have a plastic rosary in my pocket. I call it my emergency rosary because I take it with me when I want a rosary that I’m not going to worry about because it’s not going to break.

The bus is late, but eventually it arrives. I say my morning prayers on the bus. I’m sitting at the front with Texas UUJM Minister Reverend Erin Walter because we are both wearing those minister’s collars. It’s important for visible religious leadership to be at the front of the bus because it often helps decrease harassment from law enforcement.

My morning prayers include words from the Gospel of Luke. I recite the words of the priest Zechariah to his son who will grow up to become John the Baptist, and I am saying them to the entire bus, to all the travelers, and to all the people inside of the detention center. You, my child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High, for you shall go before the Lord to prepare his way.

In my mind, there is love following behind us all, and we are making it possible for love to arrive. John the Baptist lived a strange and beautiful life, and he died a violent death at the hands of the state. I don’t want anyone to die.

We arrive at a place called Watermelon Park to hold a vigil and to hear stories. A man from the Carrizo Camacudo tribe addresses us. He says that this nation has broken treaties with indigenous people. and that it is breaking treaties with all of us now.

He charges us to change the narrative about this country, that no one is illegal on stolen land except those who are stealing it. He tells us about the world that this used to be, a world with clean water and clean air, a world with land that was beloved by all who walked upon it. I look around while he’s talking.

There are many people here who love each other and who love the land, or who are trying to learn how to love each other and to love the land. I love this flat, dry, scrubby Texas earth. I love the mesquite trees and the dusty ground and the yellow grass and the unbelievably enormous sky. I wonder what it will take to love it better.

I wonder what will make us remember this place as a place that grows watermelons instead of a place where the government holds people in cages.

A 13-year-old girl named Kendi speaks, and she is so small. When I was 13, I didn’t know how small I was. Now, whenever I see 13-year-olds, it’s all I can think about. Kendi was detained with her mother when she was just three years old.

She tells us how scared she is of dogs now. She believes that when she sees a dog, it should give her a feeling of joy, but instead she is incredibly frightened. Our relationship with dogs is so ancient. Humans and dogs have been friends for so long. I don’t want her to be scared of them either.

I look at the land and the sky and I think about dogs and I see so much breaking. Families are being broken apart and everyone is being broken away from who we are and what we are connected to. We are being broken away from other people and from the land and from the animals. We begin our walk from the park to the detention center. We pass by a prison on our way there. I feel my heart sink. My body is heavy.

The land and the people are being forced to hold all of these buildings that do nothing but house and cause and perpetuate violence. I wonder how many jobs there are in this area and how many of them are at the prison and the detention center. I wonder what it sounds like to some of the people in this town that we are begging for these places to be shut down.

I feel overwhelmed at the thought of what it will take to extricate everyone in this town from the violence they are being forced into, and I feel overwhelmed at the thought of what it will take to extricate everyone in this whole country from all of the violence we are all being forced into.

Many of us are trying to say no to the violence and do something else. I know it’s true here in Dili, too. Someone in front of me is carrying a huge white paper-mache sculpture of a bird. They’re holding the bird up on a stick like a sign.

I wish everyone were free. I wish the land were free. We walk for two miles, maybe three, and the whole way there I am praying that the cops and the ICE agents and everyone who operates these places will quit their jobs. I am praying that their hearts open up and they stop doing what they’re doing. I am praying so desperately that by the end of our walk, I am saying over and over again, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please.

When we reach the detention center, and I see the ICE and DPS agents standing outside of it, I am swept up in despair. Perhaps some part of me really wanted to find monsters, but what I see are human beings, which is worse.

I see precious children of the vast and loving universe who are choosing to do harm. I see people who had once been very small 13-year-olds too, and now they are this.

I feel I am seeing an active rejection of humanity so enormous that my heart and mind and spirit can hardly withstand it. I think of all the families trapped inside of the buildings behind them, and I wonder what these agents see.

In my mind, I see Kendi, who spoke at our vigil. In my mind, I see the photo of Liam Ramos in his blue hat, and I feel we are all so broken. There’s more to tell. If you read the news, You’ve heard the rest.

We came in peace and we were met with violence. I can tell you more about that sometime if you want. But I wanted to bring you along through time into our vigil and our procession because I don’t want those pieces to get lost.

Are you having a hard time lately? Me too. I’m not usually one to feel overwhelmed by the news, but lately I feel like I’ve got a huge heavy stone on top of me.

It’s one thing to know that our world is full of violence. And it’s one thing to step into the systems of that violence and try to stop it so that healing can come. And it is something else entirely to be bombarded with details of that violence in ways that push you into a state of fear and despair.

This feels like an awful Valentine’s Day sermon. Right? It’s the day after Valentine’s Day, and I wanted to come up here and tell you the good news about a love that overcomes obstacles and heals the impossible and reconfigures the world into a more beautiful place.

In a world like this one, trying to talk about love sometimes feels hopeless. It feels like I’m standing in front of the devil, and all I have to protect me is a little pink heart cut out of construction paper. I feel foolish. I feel small. But that is where love lives.

As Unitarian Universalists, we affirm that love is at the center of all things. At the center of all things is something so precious and so powerful and so ephemeral as a little pink heart cut out of construction paper or a little blue bunny hat. The gifts given to us by those who love us and want us to be safe.

The signs that tenderness exists even in suffering that is incomprehensible. There were moments that day where the world felt like it was broken. But I thought back to the words of the Comecrudo tribe speaker. I felt the audacious hope in his words for the people and land to be healed.

He painted a portrait of a beautiful world, and I wanted to live in it so badly that I believed in it. I believed we could love the world back to health. I believed we could love each other so deeply that we could come back together again. In my deep grief, I was also gripped by a kind of sacred foolishness, a belief in something impossible. I believed that love is enough because it is everything.

Before me, I saw human beings who had shaped themselves into tools of violence. When they deployed chemical weapons against peaceful demonstrators, I feared what this chemical would do to the people, and I feared what this chemical would do to the air and to the land as it sunk down into the earth.

But love was there too. I saw it in the defiance of the demonstrators. I saw it in the healers and medics who jumped into action to protect others.

I saw it in the way we gathered people into our bus to protect them and help flush their eyes. I saw it in the nurse on our bus who took charge of this task. I saw it in the way she touched frightened people with gentle calm and helped them breathe through their panic as the water flowed over their faces. When she asked for a towel and no one had one, I gave her the blue keffiyeh that my spouse had given me the night before.

As I watched the scarf catch the flowing chemical water and comfort an injured, frightened person, I felt I was watching this keffiyeh become one with all the others in Palestine and across the world who had protected, healed, and comforted someone in the fight for true liberation.

I felt connected. Beyond all hope or reason, surrounded by violence and panic and fear, I felt connected.

One day, we will all remember who we are. One day, the agents of violence will take off their helmets and lay down their guns, and they will run to unlock the cages they guard, and they will hang their heads in humility as all the prisoners run free. And there will be no more starvation, no more tear gas, no more typhus inside of concentration camps or measles inside of detention centers. There will be no more cages, no more broken treaties, no more children being taken and tortured. I believe it. Against all odds, I believe it.

Against all reason, I believe in pink construction, paper valentines, and blue bunny hats. I believe it is in our sacred nature to love one another. I believe that one day we will all finally remember it.

Please, God. May it be so.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

May we love the land and one another. May we remember who we are. May we hold love at the center of all things, and in doing so, free the world. May it be so.

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

Fear…What is it good for?

February 10, 2026 by tom Posted in Audio available, Carrie Holley-Hurt, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Carrie Holley-Hurt
February 8, 2026
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Fear is the reason we are here. It is a tool for survival but it can also get in the way of living into our values and meeting the moment. Join Rev. Carrie as she explores how we might honor our humanity, listen to our body, and live in alignment with our values.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

HERE WE ARE
by Austin Channing Brown

I wish i had something profound to tell you today. Something that could erase the sense of dread you feel right now. I wish I had the words that could carry as a shield around your heart and not feel the daggers of bitterness and disappointment. I wish my sentences were strong enough to carry your frustration. I wish you didn’t have to log off to preserve your mental and emotional health. I wish I could save you from feeling. Except I don’t want to save you from feeling because those feeling make you human, and we are going to need to hold tight to our humanity.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

From HOW SALVATION COMES
by Rev. Anna Blaedel

When our prayer is, “What the actual [heck]!” The answer to prayer is: Whatever sphere of influence you have, use it. Witness and name what others seek to ignore or normalize. Refuse capitulation, fear, threat. Resist dehumanization, a vicious cycle which trades life for lives, and will always fail to honor the sacredness of each life, each life a demand for protection, nourishment, survival. Which is to say: Practice love. Tend Lifeforce. Enflesh care, fierce and tender. Cultivate courage. Root in collective movement. Find your people, organize, and access the power that comes only by coming together. This is what prayer looks like. This is how God moves. This is how salvation comes.

May it be so. Or, as Octavia Butler wrote, “So be it! See to it!”

Sermon

It’s 6:00ish AM in the morning. A most unholy hour. I’m blurry-eyed, making breakfast for my youngest when she comes out of her room and says “Mama there’s a bird in the house.”

Just then I see that my cats are laser-focused on…a bird in my house.

Grab the kid and the cats, put them in a room and start closing doors. I open up the back door.

All the while fear is building.

Because after I get everything in place I have to face this bird.

Turns out, which I hadn’t know until then, I am terrified of birds in my house.

Gentle Broom, lots of flapping, and lots of me covering my face But I think, it flew out!

Great!

I start to let my cats out, and just as one is walking out, I see from the corner of my eye something flying.

She has not flown out, but rather is huddled at the end of the hall on the floor.

The same floor my very excited cat is on.

So now its my cat where I can’t get her, scared me, and tiny terrified bird. I hate this.

This fear is real. This fear is physically manifesting in my body.

Every time I go near the bird its like a hook has me around the middle and pulls me back.

Every.
Single.
Time.
I get to the same spot
Just a few feet away
And everything in my body
Said “NOPE”
And I scurry down the hall.

I cannot push past this fear.

I finally swallow my pride and call Russell, ask him to come home from the gym.

The cat, the bird and me continue our stand off. When I think he should be home I call him and say “ETA” to which he relies “I’m walking out of the gym now.” Expletive! (hand sign: slams phone down)

He eventually gets home, the bird is out of the house within a minute, I’m relieved. This knot of fear has left my gut, and then ..of course… I go on to do many brave things that day…

Fear
Fear is real and it is visceral

My brain,
My reason that could have said, “You are 100 times bigger than that sweet little bird”… went completely offline.

Some deep primal instinct completely took over, and made sure that I wasn’t getting anywhere near that bird.

it’s really quite impressive how quickly and powerfully our bodies reacted to danger.

And thank goodness it does. We would not be here if it wasn’t for fear. Fear that told our ancestors. “Run from the growly thing with sharp teeth. Get shelter before dark. Pay attention to those weird dark clouds.”

Fear is a visceral thing, that has kept us going as a species for at least 300,000 years.

But If fear can show up that strongly in a situation that is nowhere approaching dangerous, what do we do when it shows up because something is actually dangerous. AND we need to respond.

When there is no Russell to call.

There is only us. We are the only ones coming to save us.

Right now, that fear is showing up as we read or watch news of the the brutality of ICE and the complete disregard for humanity, the murders at the hands of ICE and Border Patrol of people like Keith Porter, Luis Gustavo Nunez Caceres, Heber Sanchez Dominguez, Renee Good, Alexi Pretti, and so many others.

The imprisonment of adults and CHILDREN and BABIES.
The occupation of American cities,
The complete disregard for any human and civil rights from the highest office in the land.

The ways in which these actions are happening as if the constitution was never written.

This fear is valid.
Is rational.
And can be used a tactic to keep us quiet and pre-complying.
Its a powerful tactic.

And IT’S ONE THAT WE CANNOT SUCCUMB TO.

On January 15, I answered the call for faith leaders to go to Minneapolis. To stand in solidarity with our colleagues and with the good people of Minneapolis and St. Paul.

Y’all, I was terrified. I was so terrified.

I signed several things saying that I accepted the risk.
I attended an info session where they told us that since the murder of Renee Good, ICE agents had started routinely pulling out their guns and pointing them at people’s heads.

It’s a powerful tactic.

I made sure my affairs were in order.
I wrote my memorial instructions…. because I still have opinions even when I’m dead.
And I got on a plane.

Now you may ask how can a woman who couldn’t get a bird out of her house do something that was actually dangerous.

Its because of my values and my hopes and dreams for us, and for my kids and all the kids.

I believe with my whole heart in liberation… collective liberation. I believe in our humanity. I believe in justice. I believe in a world where people get to live their one precious life unimpeded by racism, sexism, ableism and all systems of supremacy.

I believe in a more loving and kind world for everyone. And I believe that I have a moral obligation to use my one precious life well.

So with my values strongly in hand,
What becomes more terrifying than standing up to ICE agents and Border Patrol,
is what it would mean for our future if we did nothing,
If we did not speak up,
If we did not stand up.
If we allowed this cruelty and violence to become normal.

That is more terrifying than anything I was preparing to face.

I want my kids to live in a world where all of this, all that is being unveiled – all the cruelty, the harm, the gross violations of humanity, are just a bad bit of history they talk about, rather than their lived reality.

I want so much for this to end with accountability, justice.
That it ends in a way that leads us to build something much much better than what we have.
Because none of this came out of nowhere.

The roots of what we are experiencing go back deep into the colonization of this land.

The genocide and the continued oppression of indigenous folks.
Salvery, the slave catchers that manifest today
in the police murders of black people
To the Texas Rangers, taking land and lynching Mexicans and Tejanos.
Internment camps for Japanese Americans in the 2nd world war.

None of this is new.

And so when the fear became overwhelming and started to grab me around my middle… tried to physically take over, I reminded myself of the world I want. I got grounded in my values.

And when I didn’t have that in me, I borrowed. I borrowed it from my family, my neighbors, and friends, from my roomie in Minneapolis and dear Friend, Michelle Venegas Matula.
and I borrowed it from you.
I took all y’all to Minneapolis. (Shows her stole signed by the congregation)

Fear breeds in isolation.
Community is the antidote.

When I joined with the other hundreds of spiritual leaders from all over America – Christians ministers and pastors, buddhist monks, rabbis, Sikhs, and a whole lot of Unitarian Universalists – I felt peace.

I was surrounded by people, showing up in their values. Which was a beautiful reminder that we are many and they are few.

And we are seeing this same bravery coming from the grassroots, hyper local, leaderful organizing that is happening on the ground in Minneapolis.

Every day people coming together armed only with a whistle and love their neighbor trying everything they can to protect one another.

There is so much work to do, and it’s only going to work in community,

And its only going to work if we also allow our community to hold us.

Carolyn Grimminger reminded me a few weeks ago that Rev. Meg used to say

“Social Justice work is not a Sprint, but a Relay…. when you get tired, you don’t quit, you hand the baton on to someone else, and you rest, and join up again in the work after.”

Finally, fear grows with inaction. To do nothing but watch the horrors unfold is to let fear dictate how we will live. To let fear dictate how this story will unfold.

We have to act.

But we do not all need to act in the same way,
All of us going to Minneapolis doesn’t make sense.
All of us doing just one of anything doesn’t make any sense.

If we are going to pull apart the tapestry that is this “filthy rotten system¹” then we are going to have to do what is ours to do. We are going to have to look at the skills and talents we have and bring them to one another.

The people engaged in the resistance to this occupation In Minneapolis are doing all kinds of things.

Some are alerting their neighbors to the presence of ICE.
Some are showing up and blowing whistles and honking horns to try to get ICE to leave.
Some are putting their bodies on the line.
And some are raising money for rent assistance and food.
Others are drive kids to and from school.
Others are picking up and doing their neighbors’ laundry so they don’t have to make themselves vulnerable at the laundromat.
Some are packing and delivering food.
Some are donating breast milk to the babies whose mom’s are taken.

There is so much work to do – all of it valuable – and every single one of us has something we can offer. Something we can do.

Some of us are called to stand at the front line, to stand in between harm and our neighbor.
And others of us are called to organize those people, the food delivery, the whatever.

Some of us are called to provide care.
To sit unflinchingly with someone in their pain.
Community care is foundational to the work of liberation. I am beyond grateful for our caring companions.

Some of us are called to lead songs.
Listen, If you want to take care of your nervous system: Sing.

If you want to feel brave, sing in a group. We need song leaders.

We figure out what we are good at. What it is that we are called to do and we do it.
“Because that is our sphere of influence” as Rev. Blaedel said in our reading.

Bringing your beautiful and precious life into the service of community.
Into the service of your values makes us Brave
It empowers us. And gives us hope.

I don’t know what is coming. I know what is happening in Minneapolis is terrifying

What is happening here is terrifying. To say it’s unjust is an understatement.

It’s awful and scary.

And it just is that bad as what we are seeing and probably worse.

I wish there was a way around it.

But we are a people of reason and logic and so to tell you anything different is to insult your intelligence.

But I do know we can do it.

We can face our fears.
We can hold our values close,
We can rely on one another – for comfort, for encouragement, for safety to take the baton when needed.
and we can do the work that is in our sphere to do.

We can take action.
We got this. No matter what comes our way, we got this!

And as long as the birds stay out of our houses, we will be okay”

1. Quote by Dorothy Day

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

As we go back to our normal lives, as we leave this sacred space, may you hold your values close, may you lean on community, and may you sing through your fear.

Go in peace.

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

2026 Animal Blessing

February 2, 2026 by tom Posted in Audio available, Carrie Holley-Hurt, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Carrie Holley-Hurt
February 1, 2026
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

To paraphrase Parker Woodland, “The world’s on fire, and we are still going to find joy.” Joy that nourishes us and joy that sustains us. In that spirit, please join us to bless the beloved animal companions in our lives. In these challenging times let us honor our animal companions who are such a vital source of our joy and resilience.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

THE STATE OF BLISS
excerpted from Blessings of the Animals: Celebrating Our Kinship With All Creation
– by Reverend Gary Kowalski

Don’t animals teach us about blessing, about joy! They remind us to be satisfied with what we have. Not one of them is worried about the stock market. Not one of them wants to run for Congress or govern the animal kingdom. None brags that their religion is better than their neighbor’s. Each is satisfied with just a little: fresh water, healthy food, and enough room to nest or den. None needs a passport or travel documents or immigration papers, because they don’t live in a state like Arizona or Texas that cares about such things. They live in a state of bliss.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

– by Henry Beston

We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creatures through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion.

We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, we greatly err. For the animals shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear.

They are not brethren, they are not underlings, They are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth.

Prayer

– by Albert Schweitzer

Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends the animals, especially for animals who are suffering, for any that are hunted or lost, or deserted or frightened or hungry; for all that must be put to death. We entreat for them all thy mercy and pity and for those who deal with them we ask a heart of compassion and gentle hands and kindly words. Make us, ourselves, to be true friends to animals and so to share the blessings of the merciful.

Sermon

For the last six or so months, when someone asks me what my theological argument is for say…trans people, queer relationships, a world in which no one is exploited, really anything that that person is struggling to understand because it was outside their own narrow context.

I simply say Platypuses. – Y’all, we live on a planet with platypuses,
Echidnas
Superb Bird of Paradise, So beautiful some one called them Superb!
Star nosed mole
Octopusi – they can squeeze their body in the tiniest spots.
Manatee,- Will hug you
Elephants – gather apples in a pile so they can go back and have a party when they ferment
Tardigrade, also known as water bears
and don’t even get me started on the animals that lived before us….

The creatures on this planet are proof that life is beautiful, interesting, weird, and diverse.

But for some reason, our species, us mammals, we Homo sapiens, want to make things boring And of course #notallhuman – But so many want to – Narrowing down what its supposed to mean to be our kind of animals. Refusing to see the beauty and creativity of creation, of which we are a part.

And so while today is a blessing of the animals, I want us to remember that we are also animals and because of that, let us learn from these precious members of creation.

Our dog friends who when we stare into their eyes both of our bodies flood with oxytocin – Teaching us that we are meant to be connected.

Our cat friends – often distributed to our homes by the universe’s cat distribution system – confidently and gracefully making your home theirs. Teaching us about taking up space and being true to ourselves.

And I know its not just cat and dog friends – We have so many animal companions, and I bet you could tell me about the blessing they are to you. About what they teach you.

Maybe you would tell me of the ways they bring joy into your life. Maybe they teach you about love, care, and how to have fun.

Animals invite us to see the beauty and diversity of this planet we all depend on, They teach us what it means to be present, to listen to our bodies, to love or, if they are anything like my cats, to communicate how they want to be loved.

They are a blessing and so for all they do. For all they are we bless them.

But first we gawk. Now is the time for the animal parade.

ANIMAL BLESSING
by Rev. LoraKim Joyner

May Blessings Flow…..
From our hearts and minds into our hands,
May blessings flow.

Around and around this circle of friends
May blessings flow.

For all you do and all your teach us
May blessings flow.

Around and around our beloved earth
May blessings flow.

For all beings,
may blessings flow.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

For all the animals in this room and online, with fur, or feather, or scale, or just us, the relatively less hairy humans, may we all find joy today, joy and companionship. And may we all be present today to that companionship, but also to the beauty and the mystery that is all around us. And most importantly, may we all be held by love.

Go in peace.

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

Not Just a Matter of Words

January 12, 2026 by tom Posted in Audio available, Guest Speakers, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Leona Stucky-Abbott
January 11, 2026
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

This sermon fosters understanding of erroneous Biblical expectations regarding God’s actions, of the human longing that informs people’s faith, of differences between polar perspectives and where they might coalesce, and of how UU principles may prompt action rather than remain just words. It tells stories that provoke, explore, and suggest.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

First Thessalonians 4:16-18

“For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first; then we who are alive, who are left, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words.”

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

From AS I LAY DYING
by William Faulkner

Addie, reflecting on her differences with her neighbor Cora, says: “One day I was talking to Cora. She prayed for me because she believed i was blind to sin, wanting me to kneel and pray too, because people to whom sin is just a matter of words, to them salvation is just words too.”

Sermon

Rev. Dr. Leona Stucky-Abbott is a Unitarian Universalist community minister and a member of our congregation. A mother and grandmother, she often says that lived experience has been her greatest teacher, shaping her theological and psychological insights. The Fog of Faith: Surviving My Impotent God is her memoir chronicling her first 23 years as a Mennonite – a compelling story of how life can irrevocably alter a faith journey.

Welcome. I’m so glad to be here speaking with you, as one of you. What a privilege. Thank you for sharing this time. Hopefully as an old and wise woman.

I’m a plain speaker. I tend to put things right out on the table, and that can unsettle some people. I don’t intend to be provocative for its own sake. While I’m a UU minister, I also carry 18 years of rural Kansas redneck in me and about 500 years of Mennonite coursing in my blood. That’s not an easy combo. Some sermons don’t require much self-care, but this one might. I trust you’ll be wise on your own behalf.

Preaching begins as a one-way conversation. The second half comes from you. I want to learn from you. I’ll be toasting your responses in Howson Hall with a cup of coffee after the service. Please share your thoughts and feelings. And if you’re watching online, feel free to respond digitally.

NOT JUST A MATTER OF WORDS

A couple of days before the Women’s March in January of 2017, I found myself protesting with thousands of others at Freedom Plaza in Washington, DC. Afterward – chilled to the bone – I ducked into a bar, ostensibly to warm up. Wine was elegantly priced. Beer would have to do.

The place filled quickly, and a young man – maybe in his early forties – took the seat beside me. We exchanged the usual small talk. I asked what brought him to DC.

He said he had pieced together a couple of extra days off and scraped the funds to attend the inauguration. He had to be there, he said. He had prayed for this day. He wasn’t going to miss the victory he believed would finally set things right. It was too important.

Perhaps my face betrayed my surprise, because he began to explain. He told me about his work back in Connecticut – how he picks up the bloody pieces after tragedy, how he must explain the inexplicable to families, how he must catch the culprits who rarely stay in custody long. The courts do little. The crimes go on and on. The cruelty continues.

He hears horrors every day – stories of what has happened and fears of what will – often from the very people who treat him as the enemy. “What the hell can I do?” he asked, shoulders sinking, voice wavering. He was sick of it all. I tried to take in, not just his words, but the whole of his experience.

He spoke of gruesome cases. He spoke of rage – rage at the “high and mighty liberals” who looked down on him. His body trembled when he described their children taunting him. But when he spoke of the promise of an authoritarian leader – someone who would uphold the law and demand obedience – his face lit up. For him, this was not rhetoric. Not slogans. This was real leadership.

Eventually, silence settled between us. We looked at each other, then down. I nodded in recognition of his predicaments. We both knew that in forty minutes, we had crossed a profound chasm. We shook hands, a gesture too small for the tenderness of that goodbye.

Later, I wondered if I had been too passive. Should I have said, “Let me tell you why I came to DC?”. But no. It was wiser to take in and hold. To let him touch my heart. I have often imagined his spirits soaring during the inauguration. And I still hope our meeting meant something to him. It did to me.

The Apostle Paul came to mind. You can guess I was once a seminary student (who else thinks of Paul at a bar?)

Paul, too, spoke of something that was not just words. He believed that Jesus’ resurrection was the final evidence that God’s power would radically transform life on earth. He proclaimed news that humble, hurting people longed to hear: that God would soon overturn the powers of the world and reveal ultimate justice. There would be care for ordinary human beings in this world after all.

Paul’s apocalyptic vision imagined God returning soon, within their lifetime, with unfathomable glory. The faithful rising to meet God in the sky. The dead lifted from their graves. Every cruel ruler destroyed. Every oppressive system dismantled. The world transformed.

Imagine it: despots gone. Oligarchs stripped of power. Bye-Bye! Every person long trapped in poverty suddenly free to live in peace. Life where love abounds. Death with no sting. However you picture it, Paul’s vision was astonishing. And for him, being a bit rambunctious and over-the-top, the way a Kansas Redneck might be, it was not metaphor. Not poetry. Not just words.

Of course, later interpreters tried to soften Paul’s claims – spiritualizing them, postponing them. But the longing behind Paul’s vision has not disappeared.

After World War I, soldiers returned home traumatized by trenches filled with rotting bodies – human and horses alike. They had been forced to shoot at people who looked and believed like they did. They came home saying, “This world is full of evil. God will not let this stand. The end must be near.” Perhaps that was easier than saying, “God, if he is there, let this happen.”

Biblical scholar, Walter Brueggemann, teaches that apocalyptic thought arises from people who have lived through too much hell on earth. It is the cry of those who long for decisive help. And he reminds us: if we have not yet experienced that kind of hell, we are no better than those who have.

William Faulkner’s character Addie Bundren, in As I Lay Dying, understood the need for visceral and real spiritual happenings. Addie, lying on her deathbed, reflects on her neighbor Cora’s desire to save her. Addie says: “One day I was talking to Cora. She prayed for me because she believed I was blind to sin, wanting me to kneel and pray too, because people to whom sin is just a matter of words, to them salvation is just words too.”

I have been reflecting on Addie’s thought for fifty years. I resisted it. I forgot it. It returned again and again. But now – at this moment in our history – I finally understand.

If we treat authoritarianism as just a matter of words…

If we treat money flowing to billionaires as just a matter of words…

If we treat a media unwilling to ask hard questions as just a matter of words…

If we treat bribery twisting foreign policy as just a matter of words…

If we treat the tackling, imprisoning, and renditioning of immigrants as just a matter of words…

If we treat corruption of the justice system as just a matter of words…

If we treat missiles fired into fishing boats and government agents shooting innocent victims as just a matter of words…

If we treat sending bombs and other resources that will be used to destroy a people and their homeland as just a matter of words…

If we treat breaking international law by violating the territory and resources of smaller nations, like Putin does against Ukraine, as just a matter of words…

Then we should not be surprised if our salvation turns out to be just words too.

Our Unitarian Universalist tradition rejected the idea that sin is inherited like a genetic trait. We became allergic to words like sin and salvation. But today, sin and salvation need not be abstractions because they are no longer just words.

Without democracy, oligarchy fills the vacuum. These are not just words. Those with power write laws that protect their power. Wealth concentrates. The poor, the unfree, the unheard multiply. The transfer of wealth accelerates – until the governed are governed no more, but ruled.

This now established sin, in our country, has been significantly aided by conservative Supreme Court decisions over the last fifteen years – decisions, like Citizens United, that opened the floodgates for money to buy legislation, later decisions removed caps on political spending, and finally in 2024 the conservative Supreme Court made bribery nearly impossible to prosecute unless a specific quid pro quo is spelled out in advance. Bribery is essentially legal now, another tool that escorts money and power to a select few.

These consequences are real. They are measurable. They devastate our democracy.

If I am wrong in what I have described, and you believe me, then – as Paul said of himself and his own followers – If we are wrong, we are, of all people, most to be pitied. So think hard about what you believe. It is dangerous to assume we know God. Dangerous even to assume God exists. Dangerous to think as Paul did, that God’s actions would save us. Dangerous to trust easy answers that remain just words.

But principles – principles are not doctrines. They are not screeds or creeds. They are not inherited. They are chosen. They are lived.

And our values – our Unitarian Universalist values – are not just a matter of words. They shape us. They guide us. They act in our actions, every day, when we are true to them.

We believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every person.
Justice, equity, and compassion in human relations.
Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth.
A free and responsible search for truth and meaning.
The right of conscience and the democratic process.
The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all.
We respect the interdependent web of all existence.

Bribery is not in our lexicon. Cruelty is not in our lexicon. Authoritarianism is not in our lexicon. Our values make us capable of effective loving relationships – even when we fall short. They shape how we show up in the world. They are, quite simply, the way we roll.

They are not just words, if we live them.

Still, like humans everywhere, we live in the murky muddy miasma of daily choices and energy limitations. We can only do and understand so much. And sometimes we are surprised by the effect other people have on us and we on them.

I am surprised to hear myself sounding more and more like my policeman friend these days.

What happened to the law? I keep saying. Why don’t the courts do something that matters? How can we clean up crimes and cruelty when it seems to flow out in so many directions at once? Why do we become the enemy of the people we are trying to support? I can appreciate my policeman’s frustrations and his self-defeating mantras that seem to reflect reality. I feel them too.

Perhaps we are trapped in Paul’s predicament, where we simply misunderstand. Do we have a God? If so, what does that God do? Paul thought he knew, and for Paul, what he knew was not just a matter of words. We’ve waited 2000 years, and we wonder, what did Paul really know?

I admire Paul’s get-up-and-go spirit, his restlessness, and his way of putting out there what he thought was salvation for his whole world. His self-awareness made him openly admit that he couldn’t do the good he wanted but often did the opposite. He wasn’t one to fool himself. He didn’t want to be the one ‘most to be pitied.’ He was trying to track reality, a spirituality that would be reality. He didn’t want just a matter of words.

His assessment of his world is not that different from our own. We know our oligarchs will not create the world we need. We know we have the fight of our lives on our plate right now. Wouldn’t ultimate assistance be great? But we might have learned the lesson that Paul represents, not the lesson he tried to preach.

We know the struggle and the pace. We have many ways to approach it, and we can invent many more. One suggestion that comes to my mind is simply to gather all the phone numbers of our senators and representatives, our school board members, our state leaders, our city council members, mayors, and our national and international leaders.

Get those numbers and add them to your phone’s favorites list. Calling is said to be the most effective way to contact political leaders. It doesn’t matter what party they belong to or whether you resonate with their vision. Simply call and make yourself known. Not just your words, but make them deal with your whole self, the yearnings of your heart, your unswerving principles that must be honored. You can do that.

And one more thing. Try extending yourself to some people who are not saying the same things you say. Listen until you hear the true yearning of their hearts, and try a little tenderness. Listen until you hear more than just their words. Try it. You can do that too.

And another thing. Seek out the group support that is readily available here and beyond.

Sometimes it helps to do everything we know to do and something we have not yet dared to try. Think about it and do something that fits you. You likely already do.

So now we come back to Addie. She is lying there in that old trailer, longing to get back to her kinfolk, her home. To be buried in the ground she trod upon as a child. Her rough and tumble family don’t know how to make happen what they know should happen. They try, and they are trying, but every effort is weighed down, distress, dysfunction, and the general depravity of the human endeavor coalesce against Addie’s soul’s yearning. She is spent. She doesn’t have words, but her mind veers toward her neighbor Cora, who so wants to save her, to get her to pray, to relieve herself of her burdens and turn them over to God. Surely then happiness would follow her beyond the grave into the arms of God.

But Addie knows herself the way Paul knew himself when he said the Good that I would do, I do not do. Sin is not just words to her. Real life tore her from her ideals over and over again. She lived the anguish of the murky, muddy everyday. No longer in possession of the hopes that might have animated her younger self, she knows she is lost and is dying. Words cannot save her. What she needs from God now, is more than just words. A lot more. Perhaps she could be lifted up to the heavens, as Paul thought, or healed on the spot – not just words.

Perhaps for her, like for Paul, God won’t do what must be done. What then? What then? Perhaps that experience of ineptitude, abandonment and death does not shock her the way it shocked Mark’s Jesus when he cried out on the cross, “My God, My God Why have you forsaken me?”. Perhaps Addie knew it all along. Salvation must not be just a matter of words, or death is an ultimate sting, is the final victor. As she lay dying, salvation needed to be More. In the teeth of death, Addie had the little life that was left to her, and she knew that something needed to be more than just words. A spiritual journey is life’s journey and that is a dangerous thing. It was for Paul, for Mark’s Jesus, and for Addie. Is it for us? Does the knowing kill the yearning inside us?

We live in tension. The knowing that often hits through news cycles wants to quell yearning. The yearning hits solidly against any truthful knowing that opposes it. It hits and it bounces off. What a dilemma – this being human.

The yearning in Addie’s heart, as she lay dying, that yearning for more than just words, may live, recognized or not, in our own hearts. The yearning and the knowing. May we hold in our hearts, Addie’s yearning and knowing, and our own yearning and knowing, and try a little tenderness.

Thank you so very much.

And the people say. Amen. Blessed Be.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

May we go forth from this place with these people and try a little tenderness with ourselves and others who have different answers but live in the same predicament.

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

2026 Burning Bowl

January 6, 2026 by tom Posted in Audio available, Carrie Holley-Hurt, Sermons, Uncategorized

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Carrie Holley-Hurt
January 4, 2026
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Annual Burning Bowl Service – As we enter a new year, we enter a liminal space. A time in which we are between the known and the unknown. All the joys and sorrows that we faced in 2025 have changed us. Sometimes those changes have been good or enriching, and sometimes they have not. During our burning bowl service, we contemplate what we would like to let go of so that we may more easily find our center as we move into the new year.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth that we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

My friend talked to me today about liminal spaces. She told me they are the in-between stages, when one era of your life is over, but the next hasn’t yet begun.

It’s a place of change, of uncertainty, of questions, of waiting. I thought of God for some reason. Maybe the absence of God is actually the presence of them.

Maybe it’s the spaces between words that matter the most. Maybe it’s the way the piano sounds when it’s not being played. Maybe truth only makes itself known in the absence of answers.

After all, plants do grow in sidewalk cracks.

– from a poet that goes by NB.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

NEW YEAR’S DAY
by Kathleen McTigue

The first of January is another day dawning, the sun rising as the sun always rises, the earth moving in its rhythms. With or without our calendars, to name a certain day as the day of new beginning, separating the old from the new.

So, it is, everything is the same, bound into its history as we ourselves are bound. Yet also, we stand at a threshold. The new year is something truly new, still unformed, leaving a stunning power in our hands.

What shall we do with this great gift of time this year? Let us begin by remembering that whatever justice, whatever peace and wholeness might bloom in our world this year, we are the hearts and minds, the hands and feet, the embodiment of all the best visions of our people. The new year can be new ground for the seeds of our dreams.

Let us take the step forward together onto new ground, planting our dreams well, faithfully, and in joy.

Sermon

NOTE: This is an edited ai generated transcript.
Please forgive any omissions or errors.

Today is our annual Burning Bull service. It’s a ritual of contemplation, of intention, of release. And if you are doing this from home with your piece of paper, you can use fire. If you’d like to, I’d like to encourage you to do that with safety. You can also dissolve your water in water or you can bury it. The point is to let the elements take from us what no longer serves us.

This ritual feels particularly important this year, because 2025, what a year. Am I right? Started out pretty awful.

And then, but like any old year, there were probably a mix of joys, personal joys too. It might have even been a pretty good year for you personally. That’s how I experienced it. I had some amazing experiences.

I get to be y’all’s minister. That was an amazing experience.

And I had challenging experiences. I had to learn how to live with long COVID. And I bet just like you, it came in the good and the bad.

But whatever we were experiencing it, our personal life could not be divorced from what we were experiencing out there in the world. We were doing all of that with the backdrop of some of the most awful atrocities. It’s been a lot.

I saw a bumper sticker the other day and it captured exactly how I was feeling. It says, “It is what it is. And it ain’t great.”

It ain’t great. It wasn’t great. I feel like I slid into 2026 all bruised up with a real raw heart.

And now we’re entering another year. And one that’s already started out pretty bumpy. If you’re feeling hesitation, if you are feeling trepidation, me too.

We are in a liminal space. We are right in the doorway of what was and what we do not know yet – and what we cannot predict. Liminal spaces are uncomfortable for that very reason.

We don’t know what will happen. Sometimes it’s easier to just start predicting what might happen, to project into the future by dragging along the past. But the truth is that not a word of the future has been written.

We write it. All of us, billions and billions of all of us on this planet, for better or worse, we’re co-creating the future. And that co-creation can be beautiful and it can be powerful.

I’ve seen that here. I’ve seen beautiful, powerful co-creation here in this community, especially with the last legislative session. But the thing about co-creation is that it reminds us that we actually don’t have that much control.

In fact, the control we have is pretty minuscule in the big scheme of things.

And so here we are, in a new unwritten chapter, stuck in what might feel like a lifetime group project. And who likes group projects? But here we are.

It is what it is. And our control is limited. But it’s not nothing.

We are limited to the actions we take, to how we spend our energy, to where we put our focus. It’s limited to how we want to show up in the world, in spite of the chaos and the storms around us. We get to choose how we will show up.

And we can choose to show up grounded. We can choose to slow down to the speed of our wisdom. That’s the control we have.

And so many things can get in the way and make us feel like we don’t have control to even do that. Making it so that instead of coming from a centered place, we move at the pace of our stress and our fear. Feeling pulled around from stressful situation to stressful situation, or from one awful headline to the next.

So as we enter this Burning Bowl Ritual, I want to take some time to think about what gets in our way. What makes it hard for you to choose to move through the world the way you like” What are those things that you have control over?

The habits or the thoughts that prevent you from showing up as you want to show up? What do you want to make a break from?What no longer serves you? What would be good to ritually release?

Maybe it’s old resentments or old hurts. Maybe it’s a pattern of self-sabotage, old stories that get in our way. Maybe it’s people who have hurt us over and over again without any hope of forgiveness or accountability.

Maybe it’s chronic and constant worry, outdated beliefs, lack of self-care. Maybe it’s something else entirely. Whatever it is, let’s take some deep breaths together and contemplate that.

You may wish to hold your flash paper to your heart, or you may whisper into it if you feel comfortable doing so.

In a moment, I will light the burning bowl, and I’ll invite you to please come down one line. This is my first year in Parish ministry, please don’t make me have a memorable burning bowl. And then if you will, please exit to your left.

And now, with deep breaths, with the ground underneath us, with the air above us. Let’s move with intention, as we whisper with what we no longer want into our paper, so that we can release it to the fire.

That was so beautiful. So liminal space. The time between what was and what we don’t know yet.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable because we don’t know what we’re headed for. But that’s every day, not just when the calendar tells us that 365 days have gone by.

Every day we face the unknown.

The only thing that we have is how we show up. I hope that what you released has made you feel lighter. I hope that it’s made you feel more grounded and more prepared for whatever it is that will come.

As we wind down our service today, I want us to pull to our mind that image or word or memory from our time in meditation, the one that made us feel strong or connected or grounded. Let’s take just two deep breaths together to fix that in our mind.

But what strengthens you may light a flame in the center of you, a flame to hold you, a flame to motivate you, and a flame to bring you to your deeper and higher self, even in the storm.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

As we leave this sacred time, as what is no longer yours has been transformed by the fire, as what strength in you is held in your heart, may you feel lighter and more grounded, and most importantly, may you feel held by this community and by love.

Go in peace.

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

The Power of a Good Story

December 31, 2025 by tom Posted in Audio available, Carrie Holley-Hurt, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Carrie Holley-Hurt
December 28, 2025
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Storytelling is a powerful way to connect with one another, to understand ourselves and the world around us, and it just feels really good. Rev. Carrie explores the power of a good story.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth that we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

A story communicates fear, hope, and anxiety, and because we can feel it, we get the moral not just as a concept, but as a teaching of our hearts. That’s the power of story. That’s why most of our faith traditions interpret themselves as stories, because they are teaching our hearts how to live as choiceful human beings capable of embracing hope over fear, self-worth and self-love over self-doubt, and love over isolation and alienation.

– Marshall Ganz

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

Matthew 2:1-12

Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East, and have come to worship him.” When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him; and assembling all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. They told him, “in Bethlehem of Judea; for so it is written by the prophet: And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who will govern my people Israel.”

Then Herod summoned the wise men secretly and ascertained from them what time the star appeared; and he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him bring me word, that I too may come and worship him.” When they had heard the king they went their way; and lo, the star which they had seen in the East went before them, till it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy; and going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh. And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.

Sermon

I love a good story, don’t you? Stories are fun and entertaining. And because they are fun and entertaining, they can be used as powerful tools.

Tools to help us connect to other people, other cultures, and other ways of understanding the world Because they help us to understand things from a different perspective And can help us to strengthen or even develop our values.

That is because stories engage our brains in a completely different way. When we hear stories, our thinking shifts from the amygdala to the prefrontal cortex.

Meaning stories make it possible for us to move out of the part of our brain that is mostly concerned about our survival, which tends to shrink our world into a part of our brain that is open and creative and empathetic.

From this place, when we hear or read about another being’s experience, our brains are flooded with feel-good hormones like oxytocin and dopamine. Leading us to connect to them, even if they are fictional.

Does anyone have a favorite fiction character? Me too.

Storytelling is such a powerful tool because it expands our understanding of what it can look like to be a person on this planet. Which is why some people find them dangerous Dangerous enough to try to ban them.

Stories are just that powerful!

One person who saw the power of storytelling to connect us and develop life-changing empathy was the Unitarian writer Rod Sterling. Rod Sterling had seen and experienced a lot of horrible things during World War 2. When he left the military, he turned to writing to help him process his anger and all he was feeling. That got him into writing for television. When Emmitt Till, a black boy, was killed by white supremacists, he wanted to write TV scripts about racism and the atrocity of what happened to Emmitt Till.

The TV producers and censors did not like that.

So eventually he figured out that the way to do what he wanted, write TV shows that would tell a powerful story and make people think about big issues in our society, was to make it science fiction.

This is how he created the TV show The Twilight Zone, a popular, powerful, and often still relevant TV show. The beauty of the Twilight Zone is that both the oppressed and oppressors liked to watch it even though there were important messages about oppression. Because it was a story, it helped people enter a creative, empathetic space to examine larger issues, like prejudice. Even if they didn’t realize that was what was happening.

Stories are also way to communicate many important messages in an entertaining way. It’s often easier to grasp a big ideas through a story than through a list of facts because a story can squish in a bunch of concepts while you are in an open space.

For instance, the story that Margaret just read for us about the Magi is a pretty good one It’s a little weird.

Maybe it left you wanting to hear more or just left you confused. Maybe it was so familiar that you kind of tuned it out.

What if I told you that that story would have been way more powerful to you if you were a Jewish person who lived 2000 years ago?

The story of the Magi, sometimes called the three kings or the three Wise Men, was in a book in the Bible called Matthew. This book was about Jesus, and it was probably written about 50ish years after Jesus died.

The primary purpose of the book was to share Jesus teaching and to make an argument that Jesus was the rightful king, the Son of God, and that his death meant something.

The audience for this book were the Jewish people who were following the path of Jesus or who might come to follow it.

When this book was written, these people had been run out of their homeland by Rome, the empire who had been oppressing them for a long time had destroyed their temple and all of Jerusalem, and enslaved many people and other horrible things.

So if you are a Jewish person in the first century and you heard or read Matthew’s account of the Magi it would have probably been very exciting.

First of all, you would have grown up knowing about the Parthian Empire, and the religion Zoroastrianism. And you would have known that the Parthian empire was bigger and more powerful than Rome at the time.

So when the story says that the Magi come from the east, those early readers or hearers would have understood that Matthew was trying to say that an empire even more powerful than the Roman Empire saw the importance of Jesus.

And not only that, they would have understood that the magi were Zoroastrian priest, which meant they knew the truth, because their religion was about receiving the truth. The truth, they told Herod, that the King of the Jews had been born.

These important details mean that for these ancient readers and now us, these aren’t just men who seem vaguely important coming to give strange gifts to a baby.

Rather, they are symbols that say this baby is as important as Matthew says he is and he is bigger than Rome, and really any empire.

This would have been a powerful message to people who had endured the pain of living under an empire. And is still powerful for many people living under empire today.

Secondly, in the story we learn that the Magi are coming because of a star. If you were living in the 1st century you would have known that these men were coming from a part of the world that had the best astronomers. – People who watched and tracked the night sky and could interpret what they saw – and they could do it better than anyone… even the Romans. Having the star be a part of the story would have probably said to them two things.

First, it would have made you think of the story of the prophecy of Balaam, In that story it is said that the star would signal that the Messiah or Christ had come.

The Messiah is the person many Jewish people had been and still are waiting to come and bring salvation and liberation. And Matthew believed and wanted others to believe that Jesus was that Messiah.

But not only that, Matthew wanted people to believe that Jesus is the Son of God. Which was a title that the Roman Emperor Augusta had claimed for himself after seeing a comet. Augusta had a comet, but Jesus had a star, A star so powerful and steady that it could lead a group of important priest to his home….

And of course there are those weird gifts. I mean who brings myrrh to a baby. What is myrrh anyways?

If you lived in the ancient world those gifts would have signaled to you the whole of what Matthew was arguing.

Those ancient people would have associated Gold with Kingship Frankincense Gods and Goddess because that is what was burned in the temples.

And finally myrrh was to remind people of Jesus death. Myrrh is a very strong smelling oil that was used throughout that area on a body after someone had died.

There are tons and tons of thing that those early readers and hearers would have caught that we don’t catch, but when we give stories, especially stories that aren’t from our time or our culture the respect they deserve, we can get a greater insight than if we just insist on viewing things through our own lens. Because stories can expand our world.

When I try to look at this story through the lens of the people it was intended for I have a deeper understanding of the story and I understand why the story was told the way it was told. I don’t have to believe it as fact, but I do develop empathy for that ancient audience.

But we know that not all stories are meant for our good. For example, we know that the bible, where this story came from, has been used to do all sorts of harm.

The story of Noah in the Hebrew Bible was used my many Christian ministers to justify slavery in this country. It was used to justify colonization, misogyny, segregation, homophobia, and so much more.

Those things could be justified because there were already stories out there that said men were better than women, that Europeans were better than others, that Christians were better than others, that able-bodied people are better than disabled people and on and on.

These stories are old and have done so much damage and they are still around.

So what do we do when stories are such powerful tools AND can be used to do harm?

Well, I think we have to be wise when we listen to stories. For me this looks like holding my values close. Like the Equity value that we have in Unitarian Universalism, that says:

“every person has the right to flourish with inherent dignity and worthiness.”

So if I hear a story that pits one group against another, I can step back, apply my values to it, and see how it holds up.

Stories are such powerful tools that we need to make sure we use our wisdom when we hear them, and if something sits wrong with us, it’s a sign to investigate that.

It might be that you are picking up a lesson from a story that is harmful…. or it could be that you are having to evaluate your own values and beliefs.

Unlike those ancient people reading Matthew, we have access to so many stories… every single day. Often told in less than a minute.

We have to make sure that what we let in, helps us grow and live more deeply into our values.

Storytelling can expand our world by helping us to see outside our limited experience and understanding.

Stories allows us to literally let out brains relax making it easier for us to step into another person’s shoes, to experience things that we ourselves haven’t and might never will. It makes us more empathetic and more connected.

And when we listen with wisdom, it can help us to understand ourselves and our values in a deeper way. So this is your call to action:

Tell your stories
And ask each other for stories
Fill your world with stories from other people, other times, and other places So that you might be more connected
More empathetic
And have a more expansive life.

And make sure that whoever’s story you are listening to… even if they are the ones you tell yourself, that they are stories that are seeking the truth and beauty and wisdom of what it means to be a human on this planet.

Because storytelling is a powerful tool.

May we listen well.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

As we leave this sacred time of community,
of fun,
of comfy cozy togetherness,
May you feel inspired to tell your story,
May you feel eager to hear others,
with wisdom,
and may the telling and the hearing connect us.

Go with a good story!

SERMON INDEX

Most sermons during the past 25 years are available online through this website. Click on the index link above to find tables of all sermons for each year listed by date (newest to oldest) with topic and speaker. Click on a topic to go to that sermon.

PODCASTS

2025 Christmas Pageant

December 22, 2025 by tom Posted in Audio available, Carrie Holley-Hurt, Chris Jimmerson, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Chris Jimmerson & Rev. Carrie Holley-Hurt
December 21, 2025
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

We join together for this annual tradition of song and holiday merriment.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth that we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

WHAT ARE YOU HERE FOR?
by Quinn G. Caldwell

If you came to this place expecting a tame story, you came to the wrong place.

If you came for a story that does not threaten you, you came for a different story than the one we tell.

If you came to hear of the coming of a God who only showed up so that you could have a nice day with your loved ones, then you came for a God whom we do not worship here.

For even a regular baby is not a tame thing. And goodness that cannot threaten complacency and evil is not much good at all, and a God who would choose to give up power and invincibility to become an infant for you, certainly didn’t do it just you could have dinner.

But.

If you came because you think that unwed teenage mothers are some of the strongest people in the world.

If you came because you think that the kind of people who work third shift doing stuff you’d rather not do might attract an angel’s attention before you, snoring comfortably in your bed, would.

If you came because you think there are wise men and women to be found among undocumented travelers from far lands and that they might be able to show you God.

If you came to hear a story of tyrants trembling while heaven comes to peasants.

If you came because you believe that God loves the animals as much as the people and so made them the first witnesses to the saving of the world.

If you came for a story of reversals that might end up reversing you.

If you came for a tale of adventure and bravery, where strong and gentle people win, and the powerful and violent go down to dust, where the rich lose their money but find their lives and the poor are raised up like kings.

If you came to be reminded that God loves you too much to leave you unchanged.

If you came to follow the light even if it blinds you.

If you came for salvation and not safety, then: ah, my friends, you are in the right place.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

THE INNKEEPER
by Anne Dilenschneider

The innkeeper isn’t part of most Nativity sets. No one sings carols about innkeepers. There don’t seem to be any paintings that include them. But we can imagine the scene:

Bethlehem is crowded with people coming home for the census. It’s late at night when the innkeeper responds to a knock on the door and finds a young couple standing there. The woman is very pregnant. She and her spouse look exhausted.They’ve walked a hundred miles over rough, rocky terrain to get here from Nazareth.

The innkeeper is confronted with a dilemma. The inn is full; there just isn’t any more room. At the same time, the innkeeper knows that offering hospitality is part of being God’s people, because they had been sojourners and strangers in Egypt. That’s why the innkeeper has always made sure there’s an empty chair for an unexpected guest at the annual seder meal celebrating Passover.

What to do?

As a child, the innkeeper had learned the story of Abraham and Sarah welcoming three strangers into their home. After they made the strangers a lavish feast, the couple discovered their guests were messengers (“angels”) sent to bring great news: as laughable as it seemed, the elderly Sarah was going to have a baby. So, the innkeeper knows the tradition of entertaining strangers; the innkeeper knows strangers are messengers (“angels”) from God. Tonight there is a bedraggled and weary couple on this very doorstep. What to do?

The innkeeper pulls the door to a bit, hastily assessing the situation. Is there any space, anywhere? The beds are all taken. There are even people sleeping on the floor. What to do? Is there any possible solution?

In a moment of inspiration, the innkeeper remembers the stable out behind the inn. It’s not much, but it’s some protection from the wind. No matter how bitter the weather may become, the heat from the animals will keep these guests warm.

The innkeeper flings open the door and welcomes the couple with a broad smile. There’s not much, but there’s a possibility. A stable. Will it suffice?

It does.

And the innkeeper saves the day.

Our Annual No Rehearsal Christmas Pageant

OPENING WORDS

The season of the winter solstice has been celebrated in one form or another for thousands of years.

A hundred different cultures have told stories about how the birth of their gods took place at this time of year.

In the Northern Hemisphere, we tell stories about how light, hope and life are returning to the world.

Darkness is good for rest and for root growth, but we also need light for growth and setting a direction, so, while we revere darkness, we humans also celebrate light.

Today we will present the Christian faith story, as Christianity is one of the sources of our UU faith.

It is the story of a special baby, a child of God as all babies are, a child called Jesus who became one of humanity’s great teachers.

As UUs, we know that we do not have to believe that the stories of our sacred texts are literally true to embrace the metaphorical wisdom that may be found within them.

In this way, we are able to reclaim such stories and retell them in ways that reflect our living tradition, for which revelation is not sealed.

Today this story is wrapped not only in swaddling clothes, but also in wonderful carols, which also contain some Earth-based Solstice elements.

THE CHRISTMAS STORY

Here is the Christmas story. It happened a very long time ago in a land far away. A couple named Joseph and Mary had to make a journey to the city of Bethlehem, because there was a new law that said everyone had to return to the city of their birth in order to pay their taxes.

Joseph was worried about Mary taking this trip as she was going to have a baby very soon, but Mary wanted to be with her husband for the birth of their first child. It was a long trip to Bethlehem, three full days of walking. Mary was glad when they could see the rooftops of Bethlehem in the distance.

“Joseph,” she said, “Let’s stay at the first inn we come to. I think our baby is almost ready to be born.”

But when they got to Bethlehem, they found the little town crowded with people. They stopped at the first inn they came to and knocked on the door. But the innkeeper told them, “I’m sorry, there is no more room here.” At the next inn the innkeeper said, “We’re full. Try the place three streets over. It’s bigger.” Joseph tried another place and another place, but everywhere it was the same story: “Sorry, no room for you here.”

Finally, when it was almost night, they saw a house at the edge of town with a light in the window. Joseph knocked at the door, and told the innkeeper, “Please help us. We need a place for the night. My wife is going to have a baby soon and I don’t think she can travel any farther.”

And the innkeeper said, “There’s no room in the inn, but don’t worry, we’ll find someplace for you.” The innkeeper showed Mary and Joseph to a quiet little barn where the animals were. It was clean and warm and smelled like sweet hay.

And on that very night in that barn in Bethlehem, their little baby was born. They named him Jesus. Mary and Joseph wrapped him in the soft swaddling cloth and made a little bed for him in the hay. That night, like every night, there were shepherds in the fields outside Bethlehem, watching the flocks of sheep. The shepherds were surprised and amazed by a very bright light in the sky and a strange song coming from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. It was angels and they were glorious!

After sharing the joyous news, the angels went to see the baby born in a stable in the city of Bethlehem to tell him hello. What a beautiful baby!

After the angels had gone away, the shepherds remembered what they had said, that a wonderful baby had been born and that they could find him by following the brightest star in the sky. So the shepherds all said to each other, “Let’s go look for that baby.” They had no trouble finding the stable, because of the bright star, and sure enough, there inside were Mary and Joseph, watching over their little baby, Jesus. And the shepherds saw that Jesus was just stunning. “Oh! What a beautiful baby!” Then the shepherds went away and told everyone what they had seen.

On this same night, three wise ones saw the bright star and said to each other, “Look at the amazing star! It must be shining for something very special!” The wise ones loaded up their camels with treasures and traveling supplies and followed the star all the way to Bethlehem. Jesus was very young when the wise ones found him, but they knew he was special. “What a wonderful child. This child will be our teacher.” And they gave their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, and other gifts useful for babies.

Mary and Joseph wondered for a long time about all of these things that happened when their child was born. “lt’s astonishing that all these people would come to see our baby and give us presents for him. They don’t even know him.”

When Jesus grew up, he was a courageous teacher, just like the wise ones said. And one of the most important things he tried to teach people was to love each other and to treat all people, even strangers, with kindness and care. And people who have tried to follow his best teachings have become better people, and have spread light through their world, which is what we are here to do.

Tonight we shared the Christmas Story about one special baby. But this baby isn’t the only special one. Every child is a treasure, a wonder and a miracle. And as they grow up, they are always and forever a treasure, a wonder and a miracle.

READING

“EACH NIGHT A CHILD IS BORN”
by Sophia Lyon Fahs, Excerpted and adapted

For so the children come
and so they have been coming.
Always in the same way they came-
Born of the seed of man and woman.

No angels herald their beginnings.
No prophets predict their future courses.
no wise man see a star to show where to find
The babe that will save humankind.
Yet each night a child is born is a holy night.
Fathers and mothers
Sitting beside their children’s cribs-
Feel glory in the sight of a new beginning.
They ask “Where and how will this new life end?
Or will it ever end?”

Each night a child is born is a holy night
A time for singing-
A time for wondering
A time for worshipping.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

As we leave this sacred time of holding
in this season of the most, may we remember that
We can choose joy
We can make hope a discipline
And we can find our peace
And we can practice faith
In one another
And in ourselves
And may we remember that we have this community and
love to hold us through it all.

Go in peace.

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

Peace in the Chaos

December 16, 2025 by tom Posted in Audio available, Carrie Holley-Hurt, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Carrie Holley-Hurt
December 14, 2025
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

It’s the season of peace or so they say. What does peace mean when there is so little of it in the world? Where do we find our peace? Rev. Carrie explores peace and how we might think about it in times of chaos.

Prelude

“Cantata 140: Wenn Kommst Du, Mein Heil & Zion Hort Die Wachter Singen” (J.S. Bach) – Jihee Han (soprano), Robert Harlan (bass & Beth Blackerby (violin); The First UU Adult Vocal Ensemble & Orchestra; Brent Baldwin, conductor

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth that we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

RIVER CALL
by Rev. Manish K. Mishra-Marzetti

Between rocking the boat
and sitting down;
between stirring things up,
and peaceably going along, We find ourselves here,
in community.

Each called
from many different journeys,
Many different life paths,
onto this river road.

Some are here because the rocking of the boat has been too much: too much tumult,
too much uncertainty,
too much pain.

Some are here with questions about where the boat is going;
how best to steer it;
where this journey ends.
Others are here,
as lovers of the journey, lovers of life itself.

Here in front
beside,
Behind each a passenger;
each a captain;
doing the best we can.

“Rest here, in your boat,
with me,” the river calls;
“Listen to how I flow,
the sound of life coursing all around you.” Let the current hold you,
let the current guide you;
the river that gently flows through your soul,
Whispers:

“Come, let us worship.”

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Music

“Cantata 140: Mein Freund ist Mein” (J.S. Bach) – Jihee Han (soprano), Kelan Latimer (bass) & Julianne Webner (oboe)

Reading

THIS HOLIDAY SEASON
by Rev. Addae A. Kraba

Let this holiday season be a time for engaging heart to heart.
For those who, like the innkeeper, turned us away;
For holidays that didn’t live up to our expectations.
For ghosts of Christmas past that haunt us;
For those who gave us gifts, but never their presence.
For gifts we yearned for, but did not receive;
For things we received, but never wanted.
For those who offered us cheer when we needed comfort;
For those who offered us love that we could not accept.
For those we rejected, offering no room in our homes or hearts;
For ourselves, who could not give through fear.
For the times we saw a star in the East. but failed to follow it;
For times we followed the star, but it did not lead where we hoped.
For miracles gone unnoticed,
For wise men and women, whose gifts we rejected.
All these we remember, we forgive, we love.
In doing so, may we be granted an abiding peace.

Meditation Music

“Sunrise on the Hills” (Brent Baldwin) – The First UU Orchestra & Brent Baldwin (pedal steel)

Sermon

Peace, peace; when there is no peace. We are in the season of advent, which invites us to spend time thinking about hope, faith. joy, and PEACE.

Which is why back in September I picked peace to preach on today. Honestly, at the time it seemed like an easy lift.

“But, NO!” the universe said.

You see every time I’ve thought about this sermon my brain went right to this scripture from the Hebrew Bible:

“Peace, peace; when there is no peace.”

This is from the book of Jeremiah. You see Poor Jeremiah has the misfortune of being the prophet who has to tell Judah “Change your ways, or the Babylonians are coming for ya”…Which does end up happening.. For 70 years there is an exile, The temple is destroyed.

Of course because Jeremiah is a prophet no one is listening to him which makes him cranky. Or maybe he is cranky so no one is listening to him. I love prophets but they do have a reputation.

But, of course, we can’t really blame him for his crankiness. A prophet is just someone who is standing around observing the world, Putting two and two together and speaking the uncomfortable truths.

So I totally get cranky.

I think a lot of us are watching Project 2025 roll out when they said it never would… are feeling pretty cranky. So, here I am cranky and having to preach about peace!

My cranky is heightened by the holiday, because of the whiplash of the season. One minute I’m reading and seeing images of violence and destruction, of people being stolen off our streets by the government and the next moment Mariah Carey is crooning her Christmas list at me.

She wants you, by the way.

There is tinsel and holiday ads and the state is kidnapping people and separating families, at such a rate that they have had to create three “tender age” detention centers in South Texas alone. Those are detention centers for babies and children under 13.

Peace, peace; when there is no peace.

Now I do have a part of me that has gladly taken on my annual, seasonal, part-time job of creating Christmas magic for my children. The same part that is getting giddy about our no-reversal christmas pageant next week.

And There is a part of me that wants to have a full on melt down and scream back at Mariah “stop gaslighting me.”

“All is not holy and jolly, in fact.”

It’s the disconnect between the reality of what is happening to people and the yearly pressure to perform the trappings of the holidays.

It is whiplash and it makes me cranky.

And maybe I think that must nave been now Henry Wadsworth Longfellow felt when he wrote this poem we sang- “I heard the belis on Christmas day.” He wrote that poem on Christmas day 1863. He was grieving his wife who died horribly. He was worried about his son who had been horribly wounded in battle. And he was living in a country that was two years into a brutal and bloody civil war.

And so when he heard those bells, ringing like they always rang before he had his own melt down. “There is no peace on earth, hate is strong and mocks the notion of peace.” He calls it out. He was lamenting. He is pointing out that things are not okay and pretending otherwise is wild.

Yes, Longfellow and I am with you! I feel that lament. I feel the urge to call it all out. And am thankful my faith and my religion supports me in that.

One of the most beautiful and humanizing aspect of Unitarian Universalism is our ability to be human and the encouragement to do so with eyes wide open. Our religion encourages us, to look past the illusion and delusion of the times we live in look past our own limited experience of the world so that we can understand what is happening. So that we can fully embody what it means to be interdependent. So that we can embody transformative justice. So that we can lament the pain, the violence, and the hurt. And by doing that we might build our hope on the vision of the world we are working towards. Not the one we are being sold.

i love that about us. I can’t imagine being more aligned to stay awake to all the world, to have empathy for those suffering, and then to allow our values to flow into action in response.

But lets be honest, that’s hard.

To open ourselves up to the pain of the world. To open ourselves up to caring about others. It’s hard.

And in a society so tailored to individualism it can be isolating.

For some of us, we feel attacked by pop stars.

But I think it is in this struggle, this struggle to stay aware that inevitably leads to lament, which allows us to move more deeply into our own spirituality, and to the peace it brings.

In Longfellow’s poem, we see a condensed version of this moving from lament to peace. First, he allows himself the lament. To say, “No, christmas you will not gaslight me I know things are bad. The world is on fire and your bells are ringing.”

But then, as the 19th Century Unitarian that he was, he finds peace in his faith. He asserts his belief that the “wrong shall fail, the right prevail. That peace will come.” For him this hope is that God is acting in this world.

Some of you might really resonate with that sentiment. Its the perfect time of year for it.

When I put my UU translator on, I resonate with it.

Part of the connective tissue that ties our pluralist community together, is that there is something. And that something holds us, guides us and is a source of our peace.

For Christians this peace in the salvation that Jesus brings. For me it is the message that is told over and over again and contained in this story of Jesus that gives me this peace. That love cannot be killed, and that when we act out of love, that when we are in solidarity, we can move mountains.

It is the peace that the beloved community is something that we work, because it is the way forward and when we work for it we bring it into the lives of each other in the here and the now.

Maybe that’s orchestrated by a God or Goddess, The Universe Spirit Or maybe it just us. Maybe its the assurance that comes because of the prayers we make with our own hands and our own feet. The prayers we make with our action.

The beautiful and sometimes baffling thing about our religion is that we don’t have to agree on the force behind it, but it is a part of our DNA to believe that there is something. And that something will enable us to bend that arch towards justice. Something that tells us that evil will not long endure. It is something that gives us this knowing and that is what helps to bring us peace. A peace that can and does exist, even in the chaos, even when “there is no peace.” It is the peace in the center of us. So deep that the storms can’t touch it. But close enough to our heart to guide us and move us to action. To make us brave enough to keep our eyes open to the suffering.

What is that something for you? And how does it hold you to both be awaken to the world And have the peaceful assurance, the hope that we do not work or hold our values in vain? What gives you peace, even when “there is no peace”?

For me there is peace in living in alignment with my values. There is peace in staying aware of what is happening. There is even peace in the lament because it means I am connected. And my peace comes from an assurance that the arch will bend. And It will bend towards justice.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

– Rev. Abhi Jamamanchi:

May all beings be safe and free from harm.
May all live in peace and in wholeness of body, mind, and spirit.
May courage arise where there is fear,
and compassion where there is pain,
May those behind walls know they are not forgotten,
and may the work of justice be guided by love.
Peace within, peace among us, peace for all,
Peace within, peace among us, peace for all,

Go in peace

Postlude

“Cantata 140: Gloria sei dir Gesungen” (J.S. Bach) – The First UU Adult Vocal Ensemble & Orchestra; Brent Baldwin, conductor; Orchestra: Julianne Webner, oboe; Suzanne Segredo, oboe; Jennifer Bernard, English Horn; Beth Blackerby, violin; Christabel Lin, violin; Ames Asbell. viola: Anna Park, cello: Andrew Potter, bass: Valeria Diaz. organ & harpsichord

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

Hopeful Heretics

December 9, 2025 by tom Posted in Audio available, Chris Jimmerson, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
December 7. 2025
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Transcendence and Transformation are two of our religious values at First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin. We’ll explore how our experiences of transcendence can lead to personal growth and transformation, and paradoxically, how working to transform ourselves and our world can lead us into transcendence.

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth that we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

From PERSPECTIVES AND POSSIBILITIES
by Psychologist and Author Rick Bellingham

Transcendence can be described as elevating perspective, while transformation is a process of integrating new awareness back into everyday life. Practices like meditation, yoga, or spiritual experiences can lead to a feeling of connectedness to something greater which can facilitate transformation.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

THAT WHICH HOLDS ALL
by Nancy Shaffer

Because she wanted everyone to feel included in her prayer,
she said right at the beginning
several names for the Holy:
Spirit, she said, Holy One, Mystery, God

but then thinking these weren’t enough ways of addressing
that which cannot be fully addressed,
she added particularities, saying,
Spirit of Life, Spirit of Love,
Ancient Holy One,
Mystery We Will Not Ever Fully Know,
Gracious God
and also Spirit of This Earth,
God of Sarah, Gaia, Thou

and then, tongue loosened, she fell to naming superlatives as well:
Most Creative One, Greatest Source, Closest Hope-
even though superlatives for the Sacred seemed to her probably redundant, but then she couldn’t stop:
One Who Made the Stars, she said,
although she knew technically a number of those present
didn’t believe the stars had been made by anyone or thing
but just luckily happened.

One Who Is an Entire Ocean of Compassion, she said,
and no one laughed.

That Which Has Been Present Since Before the Beginning, she said,
and the room was silent.

Then, although she hadn’t imagined it this way, others began to offer names:

Peace, said one.
One My Mother Knew, said another.
Ancestor, said a third.
Wind.
Rain.
Breath, said one near the back.
Refuge.
That Which Holds All.
A child said, Water.
Someone said, Kuan Yin.
Then: Womb.
Witness.
Great Kindness.
Great Eagle.
Eternal Stillness.

And then, there wasn’t any need to say the things
she’d thought would be important to say,
and everyone sat hushed, until someone said

Amen.

Meditation

We shift now into a meditation on the experience of transcendence.

I invite you now, whether you are here in person at the church, joining us online or over public access television, to settle into as comfortable a position as you can.

Feel the ground underneath you, holding you up, supporting you.

And as you find that place of as much comfort as possible, join me in taking a few deep breaths, pausing briefly at the end of each inhale and exhale.

Now, I invite you to reflect on a time when you have experienced a connection with something larger than yourself.

An experience that moved you beyond yourself. When you felt your heart and consciousness expand.

Perhaps you experienced awe and wonder that brought you outside of your ordinary mind and beyond ordinary, everyday experience.

Maybe you had a sense of timelessness and interconnection with all of creation. Maybe even a boundless love.

An experience that moved your heart and spirit in profound ways that might be difficult to express in words – a stillness and a soaring at the same time.

Let’s take a few more breaths together as we hold in our minds and hearts such experiences.

If you haven’t been able to recall such an experience, that’s OK, please feel free to continue with deep, meditative breathing. In fact, meditating on, contemplating transcendence has been shown to actually make us more likely to experience it!

If you have brought a transcendent experience to mind, dwell for a moment in how it felt.

What does remembering it feel like in your body? Where were you? When was it?

Who else, if anyone, was there?

What happened?

What made the experience beyond the ordinary for you?

Where there ways in which you felt you were different afterward?

Now, let’s share a couple of more deep breaths.

Sermon

FIRST UU VALUES

TRANSCENDENCE – To connect with wonder and awe of the unity of life

COMMUNITY – To connect with joy, sorrow, and service with those whose lives we touch

COMPASSION – To treat ourselves and others with love

COURAGE – To live lives of honesty, vulnerability, and beauty

TRANSFORMATION – To pursue the growth that changes our lives and heals our world

This morning, we are exploring two of our religious values here at First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin, the first of which is transcendence.

We describe transcendence as “To connect with wonder and awe of the unity of life”.

Studies show that most of us have had some version of these transcendent experiences, and that they can effect us in ways that can lead to transformation, the second of our religious values we will reflect on today.

Now, over the past weeks, we have explored what I call our “C Values” that you can see on the slide here – Community, Courage, and Compassion.

So today, we’ll switch to our “T Values” – Transcendence and Transformation.

Wow. Transcendence. Transformation. We sound just like a church, don’t we?

Our experiences of transcendence are understood in a variety of ways. Some call them experiences of the holy; some use the term flow experiences, humanist psychologist Abraham Maslow called them peak experiences.

They can be brought on by spiritual practices such as prayer and meditation, communal religious practices like worship or rituals – also though, music, art, nature…psychedelic drugs and more.

Maslow described these experiences like this,

“feelings of limitless horizons opening up to the vision, the feeling of being simultaneously more powerful and also more helpless than one ever was before, the feeling of great ecstasy and wonder and awe, the loss of placing in time and space with, finally, the conviction that something extremely important and valuable had happened, so that the subject is to some extent transformed and strengthened…”

It turns out that Maslow’s description was largely correct.

Science is finding that while the exact nature and intensity of individual personal experiences of them vary, these transcendent or Peak experiences do share common characteristics:

- A sense of belonging and connectedness with others and with all of creation

- Closely related to this, a sense of both dissolution of self and a flowing or expansion outward toward a sense of unity with all that is

- Being an an infinitesimal yet intrinsic part of something much greater than one’s self

- An altering of one’s normal sense of space and time

Acceptance of paradox; a sense of finding a stillness even as one’s spirit is set in flight.

Perhaps even more importantly, our transcendent experiences have been found to often lead to an altered perspective that can give us a greater sense of purpose, self-contentment and a drive toward more prosocial, compassionate, loving behavior.

The sense of interconnectedness, unity, and being a part of something larger can become how an omnipresent, universal, fierce love finds us within these experiences,

or maybe it is the other way around – maybe our experience of transcendence is how we find our way to fierce love and then bring it back into our world.

Abrahan Maslow thought Peak experiences as he call them could lead us toward becoming our fullest, most creative self as an individual (what he called self-actualization).

He also believed though that they could move us even beyond that, toward living our lives for something greater, which he called self-transcendence.

Here is a brief summary of these terms.

(Video)

So, you may have heard of Maslow’s Heirarchy of Needs. Maslow views self-actualization as the capacity to really come into your full potential, express who you were meant to be. But he also saw that as a Right of Passage that allows us to go beyond the single self into what he referred to as self-transcendence. So self-actualization is about fulfilling our potential. Self-transcendence is about furthering a cause beyond the self and maybe we sense it as this profound desire to protect the welfare of all people or to give back to our community.

So, our experiences of transcendence can transform us.

Neuroscientists have even discovered that during transcendent experiences changes occur in our brainwave patterns and our neurochemistry and that this can begin to permanently change our cognitive processing and thus our perspectives and behavior.

Transcendence creates transformation, not merely metaphorically, but physiologically – psychologically – spiritually.

Now, that raises the question though of what we mean by “transformation”.

I think in the context of religion and church, and as it relates to this sense of transcendence, we are talking about spiritual transformation.

Abraham Maslow thought Peak experiences as he called them could lead The kind of change that Maslow talked about that moves us to self-actualization, but then that leads us toward self-transcendence – toward manifesting a fierce love that does justice in our world and strives to build a better and better world.

At First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin, we define this type of transformation like this: “To pursue the growth that changes our lives and heals our world.”

Self-actualization and self-transcendence.

Spiritual transformation.

Now here’s an interesting thing, almost a paradox about spiritual transformation – while experiences of transcendence can move us toward spiritual transformation, it is also true that living out this kind of metamorphosis in our lives and our world can lift us in to a state of transcendence.

It becomes a self-reinforcing cycle – transcendent experience creates transformation begets further transcendence and so on and so on.

When I was in seminary, I did my internship in a church where I witnessed transformation catalyze transcendence like this, which then lead to the potential for further transformation.

Early in my time with them, the church discovered that their much-loved prior lead minister who had only recently left, had committed sexual misconduct within the church.

It was heartbreaking to witness how harmful and extraordinarily painful this was for a religious community.

I can’t really adequately express the pain that had been caused.

By the way, I am not breaking any confidentiality by sharing this story. Both our Unitarian Universalist Association and the church made these circumstances public.

Transparency about such misconduct is a vital part of how a church heals and helps to make such misconduct less likely to happen again.

As the church dealt with the painful aftermath of the misconduct, they brought in an outside minister who has extensively studied and written about it and helped many churches work to heal from such circumstances.

One Sunday afternoon after the worship service, we gathered in the fellowship hall with this minister they had brought in. Almost the entire church membership was there.

She had brought slides and prepared an agenda that would help educate the church about ministerial misconduct, what to expect in its wake, and next steps the church might take.

As she began the discussion though, individual church members began sharing their perceptions and feelings about what had happened.

The differences in their perspectives where sometimes stark.

Yet, the hurt and the vulnerability each of them shared was powerful.

And this minister, this “expert”, laid her plans aside, put away her agenda and let healing begin to emerge.

She transformed what had begun as an educational workshop into a healing circle.

And from that change, this sense of transcendence settled over the room, as one by one folks began sharing their truths, their pain, their love for their church and religious community that now seemed threatened.

I have rarely been so moved.

I don’t have any other way to adequately express what happened that Sunday afternoon than to say that it felt like God had entered that room.

And from that transformative change she made, a communal, transcendent experience emerged on that Sunday afternoon in the fellowship hall of the church, through which transformational healing became possible.

This is the power of living our values.

Just as that guest minister they had invited lived out our Unitarian Universalist faith values of community and covenantal relationship by setting aside her own agenda, living our values here at First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin has the power to actualize our highest potential selves and to channel our self-aspirations toward building the Beloved Community.

Our values are the ground from which our purpose arises, as a church community the source of our shared mission.

Our religious values are why First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin exists – they are the reason we do church.

Transcendence. Community. Compassion. Courage. Transformation.

Transcendence is where we encounter the holy.

And out of that sacred stillness, our spirits take flight, compassion and courage arise in us, calling us to build the Beloved Community, thereby creating more holiness in our world.

Transformation is what doing so makes possible.

May this church be the center of our quest for transcendence together.

May transformation then be our work in the world.

Amen. Blessed be.

Extinguishing the Chalice

We extinguish this flame, but not the light of truth, the warmth of community, or the fire of commitment. These we hold in our hearts until we are together again.

Benediction

FOR A NEW BEGINNING
John O’Donohue

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge…

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;

Soon you will home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

I send you much love, Go in peace.

SERMON INDEX

PODCASTS

Transcendence ans Transformation

December 5, 2025 by tom Posted in Audio available, Chris Jimmerson, Sermons

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Listen to the sermon by clicking the play button above.

Rev. Chris Jimmerson
November 30 2025
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Chalice Lighting

This is the flame we hold in our hearts as we strive for justice for everyone. This is the light we shine upon systems of oppression until they are no more. This is the warmth that we share with one another as our struggle becomes our salvation.

Call to Worship

From PERSPECTIVES AND POSSIBILITIES
by Psychologist and Author Rick Bellingham

Transcendence can be described as elevating perspective, while transformation is a process of integrating new awareness back into everyday life. Practices like meditation, yoga, or spiritual experiences can lead to a feeling of connectedness to something greater which can facilitate transformation.

Affirming Our Mission

Together we nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice to build the Beloved Community.

Reading

THAT WHICH HOLDS ALL
by Nancy Shaffer

Because she wanted everyone to feel included in her prayer,
she said right at the beginning
several names for the Holy:
Spirit, she said, Holy One, Mystery, God

but then thinking these weren’t enough ways of addressing
that which cannot be fully addressed,
she added particularities, saying,
Spirit of Life, Spirit of Love,
Ancient Holy One,
Mystery We Will Not Ever Fully Know,
Gracious God
and also Spirit of This Earth,
God of Sarah, Gaia, Thou

and then, tongue loosened, she fell to naming superlatives as well:
Most Creative One, Greatest Source, Closest Hope-
even though superlatives for the Sacred seemed to her probably redundant, but then she couldn’t stop:
One Who Made the Stars, she said,
although she knew technically a number of those present
didn’t believe the stars had been made by anyone or thing
but just luckily happened.

One Who Is an Entire Ocean of Compassion, she said,
and no one laughed.

That Which Has Been Present Since Before the Beginning, she said,
and the room was silent.

Then, although she hadn’t imagined it this way, others began to offer names:

Peace, said one.
One My Mother Knew, said another.
Ancestor, said a third.
Wind.
Rain.
Breath, said one near the back.
Refuge.
That Which Holds All.
A child said, Water.
Someone said, Kuan Yin.
Then: Womb.
Witness.
Great Kindness.
Great Eagle.
Eternal Stillness.

And then, there wasn’t any need to say the things
she’d thought would be important to say,
and everyone sat hushed, until someone said

Amen.

Meditation

We shift now into a meditation on the experience of transcendence.

I invite you now, whether you are here in person at the church, joining us online or over public access television, to settle into as comfortable a position as you can.

Feel the ground underneath you, holding you up, supporting you.

And as you find that place of as much comfort as possible, join me in taking a few deep breaths, pausing briefly at the end of each inhale and exhale.

Now, I invite you to reflect on a time when you have experienced a connection with something larger than yourself.

An experience that moved you beyond yourself. When you felt your heart and consciousness expand.

Perhaps you experienced awe and wonder that brought you outside of your ordinary mind and beyond ordinary, everyday experience.

Maybe you had a sense of timelessness and interconnection with all of creation. Maybe even a boundless love.

An experience that moved your heart and spirit in profound ways that might be difficult to express in words – a stillness and a soaring at the same time.

Let’s take a few more breaths together as we hold in our minds and hearts such experiences.

If you haven’t been able to recall such an experience, that’s OK, please feel free to continue with deep, meditative breathing. In fact, meditating on, contemplating transcendence has been shown to actually make us more likely to experience it!

If you have brought a transcendent experience to mind, dwell for a moment in how it felt.

What does remembering it feel like in your body? Where were you? When was it?

Who else, if anyone, was there?

What happened?

What made the experience beyond the ordinary for you?

Where there ways in which you felt you were different afterward?

Now, let’s share a couple of more deep breaths.

Sermon

FIRST UU VALUES

TRANSCENDENCE – To connect with wonder and awe of the unity of life

COMMUNITY – To connect with joy, sorrow, and service with those whose lives we touch

COMPASSION – To treat ourselves and others with love

COURAGE – To live lives of honesty, vulnerability, and beauty

TRANSFORMATION – To pursue the growth that changes our lives and heals our world

This morning, we are exploring two of our religious values here at First Unitarian Universalist Church of Austin, the first of which is transcendence.

We describe transcendence as “To connect with wonder and awe of the unity of life”.

Now, over the past weeks, we have explored what I call our “C Values” that you can see on the slide here – Community, Courage, and Compassion.

So today, we’ll switch to our “T Values” – Transcendence and Transformation.

Wow. Transcendence. Transformation. We sound just like a church, don’t we?

They can be brought on by spiritual practices such as prayer and meditation, communal religious practices like worship or rituals – also though, music, art, nature…psychedelic drugs and more.

Maslow described these experiences like this,

“feelings of limitless horizons opening up to the vision, the feeling of being simultaneously more powerful and also more helpless than one ever was before, the feeling of great ecstasy and wonder and awe, the loss of placing in time and space with, finally, the conviction that something extremely important and valuable had happened, so that the subject is to some extent transformed and strengthened…”

It turns out that Maslow’s description was largely correct.

Science is finding that while the exact nature and intensity of individual personal experiences of them vary, these transcendent or Peak experiences do share common characteristics:

- A sense of belonging and connectedness with others and with all of creation

- Closely related to this, a sense of both dissolution of self and a flowing or expansion outward toward a sense of unity with all that is

- Being an an infinitesimal yet intrinsic part of something much greater than one’s self

- An altering of one’s normal sense of space and time

Acceptance of paradox; a sense of finding a stillness even as one’s spirit is set in flight.