Thank you.

Thank you for the honor you have given me today.

A flood of memories washes over me now: images, persons, places. Those who came before to receive this award: I marvel at their achievements. William Brooks Rice, a mentor and Chair of the Merger Commission bringing together our two faith strands giving voice to the perpetual need for vibrant liberal religious presence for faith and life; John Haynes Holmes, advocate for racial justice, pacifist, friend of Gandhi urging us to be continually vigilant for equality and peace; Connie Burgess, Director of the Women's Alliance, who taught me skills for leadership and infused our organizations with vision and hope. Giants they were!

Humbled to now stand in their company!

To three special persons with me today I must state my thanks and recognition:

No one works alone. I am profoundly indebted to my companion and wife of 47 years who has been ever present in her support, encouragement, evaluations, and vision for justice, her extroversion a caring balance to my introversion.  Dorothy.

Our children, understanding of the idiosyncracies of my life, returned them with love, are represented here today by our daughter Sheridan (also a member of the Board of Trustees of the East Shore Unitarian Church). Sheridan.

And our grandchildren now following represented today by grandson Nathan Hopper, participant in the Youth Caucus and delegate from the Edmonds UU Congregation (remembering my beginnings with the youth movement). Nathan.

Two encounters, early in life (in preparation for ministry), have served as models and metaphors for my engagement and ministry.

The first took place in Boston almost 50 years ago on the second floor of 25 Beacon Street.

It was July, and I was working in the youth office as the volunteer Field Secretary for the American Unitarian Youth (predecessor to the LRY, predecessor to the YRUU). The day was as hot and muggy as only a July day in Boston without air conditioning could be. The Beacon Press had published some works of Albert Schweitzer and on that day Schweitzer had been invited to visit "25." A call came to the youth office to announce that there would be a reception for Dr. Schweitzer, and we were invited to attend.

The AUY Director, Paul Henniges, and I put on our jackets (and ties too) and proceeded to the second floor where others were milling about, curious and eager.

The elevator door opened and Dr. Schweitzer emerged—his shock of wild gray hair akimbo, a somewhat shaggy mustache, blue eyes, string tie—and the heaviest black wool suit I could ever imagine! For a moment Dr. Schweitzer seemed bewildered and dazed from too much travel.

Dr. Eliot (Frederick May Eliot, AUA President) gracious in his greeting, proceeded to try to escort Dr. Schweitzer to the corner of the room in order that a reception line could be formed and everyone flow by giving the great man our respects.

Much to Dr. Eliot's dismay, Dr. Schweitzer would have nothing to do with a receiving line. Instead, with grace and dignity of character, fully oriented, he proceeded to go about the room, without escort or pomp, extending his hand, greeting everyone there.

It was a singularly profound gesture. He moved about the room as if to say "you do not need to come to me—I will reach out to you. We shall meet, engage."

The introvert in me needed then (and continually needs) the reminder of that great gesture of simply reaching out, going forth, engagement. We are not in a "receiving line" of life. We grow (I learned) from reaching out across lands, across barriers of ethnicity, race, culture, and language to others.

A few years later, James Luther Adams (a recipient of the DSA) gave me an additional image to inform my work. Jim laced his lectures with his experiences with the German Resistance Church in Nazi Germany, The Independent Voters of Illinois, labor strife, struggles for racial equality, and the critical necessity in a free society for voluntary associations—organizations engaged for social change and improvement. Jim suggested that the biblical text "By their fruits ye shall know them" (Matthew 7:20) be transformed to become "By their groups you shall know them."

Individual voices, prophetic calls for justice, provide provocative prods to conscience, but do not, alone, do the work for change.

The work of change comes from the exercise and work of groups, organizations, associations laboring day after day, month after month. When we look upon and light our chalice, symbol of our free faith, our tendency is to focus attention upon the brightness of the flame and its symbol of warmth, vision, truth, and hope, often neglecting to recognize the vessel (the chalice itself), which holds, protects, sustains the flame.  The light is the vision, the call, the chalice is the church, the organization which holds and carries forth the vision. The vision may be singular; the chalice is collective.

The vision, message, principles imbedded at the heart of our Unitarian Universalist faith—human dignity of all, call for justice, reason, equality, wholeness, peace—are needed in our world as they have always been needed.

It has been my privilege to have been able to serve Unitarian Universalist principles and values with my life, work, action, and presence.

The dominant themes received early in life becoming entwined, supporting, guided me along my way.

Reach out, engage, stretch your hand to another.

And

By their groups you will know them.

Albert Schweitzer wrote:

"At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within."

Thank you for being the vessel that has held the flame of my vision for more than half a century.

Information: info@uua.org