The following are the words of Chief Luther Standing Bear, a Sioux Indian, describing the Lakotas' beliefs in creation. He tells about the time before Lakota way of life was destroyed by Westward expansion and white settlers:

From Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit, there came a great unifying force that flowed in and through all things - the flower of the plains, blowing winds, rocks, trees, birds, animals - and was the same force that had been breathed into the first man. Thus all things were kindred, and were brought together by the same Great Mystery.

Kinship with all creatures of the earth, sky, and water was a real and active principle. In the animal and bird world there existed a brotherly feeling that kept the Lakota safe among them. And so close did some of the Lakotas come to their feathered and furred friends that in true brotherhood they spoke a common tongue.

The animals had rights - the right of man's protection, the right to live, the right to multiply, the right to freedom, and the right to man's indebtedness-and in recognition of these rights the Lakota never enslave an animal, and spared all life that was not needed for food and clothing.

This concept of life and its relations was humanizing, and gave to the Lakota an abiding love. It filled his being with the joy and mystery of living; it gave him reverence for all life; it made a place for all things in the scheme of existence with equal importance to all.

The Lakota could despise no creature, for all were of one blood, made by the same hand, and filled with the essence of the Great Mystery. In spirit, the Lakota were humble and meek. "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth" - this was true for the Lakota, and from the earth they inherited secrets long since forgotten. Their religion was sane, natural, and human.

Sermon: (Adapted a "Celebrate the Web of Life" a homily for Earth Sunday from the UU Ministry for Earth, Spring 2006)

Religions all over the world have creation myths, which are more than mere stories. They are also moral lessons about how we should value and treat the earth. Earlier we heard a Kabbalah creation story ... from that Jewish mystical tradition... during the Moment with the Children. Its lesson was that, although the world is broken, everything in it is sacred and we can repair the world together.

The Lakota tribe of the Sioux nation also had a creation story. In this story, all things have within them a great unifying force which comes from the Great Spirit. In it all living creatures are equal and are brothers. Therefore, the Lakota people learn to respect the earth and love all the creatures which walk upon it. If the people listen to the earth in humility, valuable secrets are given to them. "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth" takes on a new meaning here.

Springtime - the season of rebirth - is the perfect time to Celebrate Earth Sunday as humans have celebrated the bounty of Earth since ancient times. Everything we need for life comes from this Earth. There is no other source. So on this special occasion, let us "celebrate the web of life . . . seeing the divinity in every living thing" as did the Lakota people.

All humanity must attend to our relationship with Earth. All of us must be responsible for its care in this crucial time... for Earth suffers under the burden of careless human activities. And in gratitude for the beauty and bounty of this precious planet, let us also commit ourselves to protect the lives of all our fellow creatures.

Where do you go to feed your spirit? When asked this question, almost everyone responds they go outdoors, into nature. Our spirit is nourished by an intimate connection with nature. This relationship can nurture and sweeten the journey of life.

When we reflect deeply on what our spirit received from nature, few of us think first of our backyard or our neighborhood park. Many of us imagine the solitude and beauty of wilderness. According to Terry Tempest Williams, a writer and naturalist in the American Southwest, wilderness is a metaphor for "unlimited possibility." "What do we wish for?" she asks. "To be whole. To be complete. Wildness reminds us what it means to be human, what we are connected to rather than what we are separate from . . ."

Williams encourages us to go into the wilderness . . . to watch and listen, and absorb the wisdom of the Earth that is imbedded in nature's cycles. But most of us don't even need to go to the wilderness to find that wisdom. We are most familiar with the cycles of the seasons that we observe at home, right outside our front doors.

The changing seasons are more than a change in temperature and color. Spring is a time of new life and growth - the planting season when hopes for the future are made real by hard work. Summer is a time of taking care, of weeding and watching, working and watering. It's also a time of playing outdoors, exploring the abundance of nature all around. And anticipating the harvest to come. Fall is a time of harvest, of reaping what has been sown; of storing away the bounty of the earth for the coming of winter. And winter is a time of rest, of decay and recycling, of gathering strength. A time of waiting quietly for the dawn, for the new birth that will come in the spring. It is the time of transition. This pattern, this cycle of the seasons, gives us comfort and reassurance. We learn to truth the pattern, knowing that spring always follows winter, eventually.

Earth shares much wisdom with us if we just pay attention. One of the gifts nature writers like Williams give us is access to that wisdom. Much like the story tellers in ancient oral traditions, nature writers are the translators. Images from nature illustrate fundamental truths about the world and our place in it. From watching natural processes we can learn about the complexities of life. We can learn about the inter-relationships between species and their environments. We can even learn about the collaboration among various species in ways that enhance life for each one in that process called symbiosis. We must understand that whatever we do that affects those other life forms will ultimately affect us as well. Nature's metaphors impart a wisdom that we ignore at our peril.

In this excerpt, Gary Gunderson draws wisdom from the image and the reality of the forest to teach us about right relations with the earth. He uses the metaphor of a tree to describe our roles and relationships in a healthy community in his book Deeply Woven Roots.

"It is hard not to look up in awe into the high reaches of a deep and healthy forest. But the true story is in the dirt, the roots. And what is forest loam but fallen trees? Everywhere you look in a natural forest you see trees on their way to loam, and soil on its way to the sky. I think of a congregation and its surrounding community as a forest, an image that leads us into the future in two ways. First, we can see ourselves as one of the trees, taking comfort in the complex richness of our enduring connections. Second, we can see ourselves as foresters, with the humble patience of stewards who measure their contribution in terms of decades, nurturing and defending a living process.

"Although a forest may span miles, any one tree has to grow where it happened to sprout, hoping to bear the fruit it can. Storms and fires sweep aside the weak. Some are more resilient than other; some keep growing even after they are knocked down. But the big difference is whom they grow next to, whose roots tangle with their won. A forest's resilience reflects its diversity. Any one tree relies not just on its own roots, but on an interwoven fabric of roots. And while it is a good thing to put down roots, grow into the wind, and rise high into the sky, it is also good to know that, even in our falling, even as our individual memories slip behind, we will continue to be a part of the whole."

Walk humbly on the earth, be silent for a while, listen and learn its lessons.

The wisdom the Earth share with us requires getting to know a place, a location, a particular spot of ground. It requires developing a relationship with it. A sense of place that comes from a personal connection grows out of our direct experience with that place. It is a deeper connection that allows us to view the land as something more than just an object to be utilized to get the most out of it. It becomes possible to know the land as a sacred inheritance. With that comes a responsibility to take care of it, to express gratitude for its gifts, and to pass it on to future generations without diminishing its conditions.

A very concrete example of this is the activities which take place in Taunton and surrounding communities around Earth Day. I read in The Taunton Gazette yesterday about the 16th annual Citywide Clean Up next Saturday, sponsored by the Taunton Ecology Awareness Movement or TEAM. (It will be held next Saturday, a week later than Earth Day, because of school vacation week.) TEAM was formed in 1991. And in addition to the Earth Day cleanup, it holds an ecology fair, river clean ups and workshops through the year. By participating in these events, we are honoring the earth and its sacredness.

In the early Hebrew Scriptures, land is the central theme of the biblical faith. You wouldn't know that from most of the interpretations today. But as the Hebrew tribes formed the kingdom of Israel, the land where they lived was seen as a gift from God, given to the Chosen People. With that gift came rules for its use and responsibilities for its care. It was from this belief that the people of Israel developed the practice of leaving the land fallow to replenish itself every seventh year. It was from this belief that the notion of Jubilee, in which land that had been sold or traded to settle a debt, was supposed to be returned to its original owner and the debt forgiven every 49th year.

Walk humbly on the Earth, be silent, listen . . . and learn its lessons.

If we pay attention, the Earth will teach us gratitude instead of grasping, simple joy instead of compulsive consumption, openness to life instead of a driven (and fruitless) attempt to control everything. Thoughtlessness needs to give way to awareness, arrogance to compassion, addiction to balanced calm. A deep and abiding connection with nature can be that antidote to the compulsiveness and stresses of a life spent chasing the materialism of our American Dream.

As Unitarian Universalists, we say we believe in the interdependent web - the unity of all existence. And we acknowledge that we are a part of it. Not outside of it. Not separate from it. And not subject to a different set of rules or consequences. The evidence for its Truth is found in science, and also art and spirituality. We feel the interdependence in our relationships with each other. And in our relationship with non-human creatures . . . our brothers and sisters, our kin, according to the Lakota. And in our relationship with specific places. Our consciousness of these connections has to influence the way we live. How can we allow ourselves to use more of the Earth's gifts than we need, knowing that our grandchildren and future generations will not have what they need for survival? How can we let our greed get in the way of our relationships?

Joanna Macy's expression of gratitude is beautifully poetic: "To be alive (she says) in this beautiful, self-organizing universe - to participate in the dance of life with senses to perceive it, lungs that breath it, organs that draw nourishment from it - is a wonder beyond words. Gratitude for the gift of life is the primary wellspring of all religions, the hallmark of the mystic, the source of all true art. Furthermore, it is a privilege to be alive in this time when we can choose to take part in the self-healing of the world."

To love the Earth is to live humbly in the web. To love the Earth is to participate in the circles of life with respect and compassion. It is to live, work, and play in communities ... communities that celebrate our interconnectedness and strengthen our ties... with one another, with the land, and with all of nature. We must deepen our sense of place, and take time to watch, and listen, and absorb the wisdom of the Earth.

Our longing for a healthy future for all beings may seem too good to be true when everything in our world conspires against our efforts to reach that vision. But hope assumes that, in the end, all will be well. That all must be well! Hope is not based on facts. Hope is a choice built on the faith that we have the imagination and creativity to build such a future. And that we are, in fact, building it. Hope lies in the recognition that there is more happening to heal and enrich our lives than we are aware of, even if the corporate media choose not to report it.

Around the globe, people are creating new solutions, motivating each other, coming together in community, celebrating abundance of the earth. Frances Moore Lappe and her daughter Anna Lappe recognize this in the Epilogue to their book Hope's Edge. It describes hopeful stories from all over the world, proving that we can create the world we want for our children and grandchildren, and for all the beings of Earth. Listen to this:

" . . . Hope does not come from convincing ourselves the good news is winning out over the bad. Nor does it come from assessing what's possible and going for that. Since its not possible to know what's possible . . . we find new energy in this very truth. In the awareness of possibility itself - always unknowable - we are free to focus on creating the world we want. Hope, we're learning, comes from a place deep within. Hope is not what we find in evidence. It is what we become in action. We become hope because we are alive. We become hope because our planet needs us to. And our hope can spur us on - to take our own stand, to choose."

What a beautiful vision! The principle of the interconnected web reminds us that we are connected to each other as well as to the Earth and all its creatures. And we must spread this message - a message that challenges us to heal the Earth - Tikkun Olam - for our children and for all the beings on this planet. We must all envision and work towards a future that will be healthy for all beings as if our lives depended on it. Because, in fact, it does.

May we be among those bringing forth that vision.

And may that vision come to be our reality. Amen. And Blessed Be!