Divinity within and without

Before saying anything about my philosophy of worship, I must say this:  I love worship. Worship is the soul of my call to ministry. I loved it when I was a 10-year-old Roman Catholic. I loved it when I was attending Quaker Meeting and Reform Jewish synagogue. I loved it when I created and led ceremony for 350 people under the stars and for 6 people in a friend’s living room. I love it in my UU congregations, as different as they have been from one another.

Collaborative worship planning, solitary sermon writing, and  celebrating together in a worship service — I have loved this work as long as I can remember.

We are multigenerational learning communities seeking awe and wonder.  We form our faith in worship. We teach and learn and delight in song. We teach and learn and delight in readings and sermons. We teach and learn and delight in other arts of worship — drama, visual art, personal testimony, movement, and a host of other possibilities.

Traditional forms of liturgy bring us to ever greater comfort and depth. When we take the risk of changing those forms, we travel previously unexplored spiritual ground. Together, familiar structure and occasional innovative risk make for excellent celebrations of the spirit.