Romance and partnerships are what immediately come to mind when hearing “love” in February, but this compact little word is so much more complex and holds a multitude of meanings. You can love your significant other, your family of origin, your family of creation, your chosen family, your friends, and your dog. You can also love your neighborhood, your community, and those you teach or help. And, you can feel love for a little boy in a blue bunny hat who you’ve only seen on television, or for two strangers who are grieving the murder of their child, a healer whose last words to were to ask if someone was okay. Love can be romantic, platonic, hopeful or painful; it can be joyfully exuberant, or quietly steadfast. Today’s piano selections offered a glimpse of some of the ways love can appear in our lives: a promise, ardor, care, compassion, the sacred, healing, and affirming.

Make You Feel My Love is surprisingly simple in its presentation. There is no flowery language, dramatic imagery, or big musical/emotional climax; instead, the song is a quiet vow of steady, enduring love. Bob Dylan wrote this contemporary standard, but rather than hoarding the recording rights, he shared advance copies of the music with other artists, and the world was first introduced to Make You Feel My Love by Billy Joel. Bob Dylan eventually released his own performance, and as the song became a hit, countless other musicians covered this song, drawn to its tenderness and statement of unconditional love.

To Love You More sharply contrasts Dylan’s song about peaceful and plainspoken love with its sweeping, romantic intensity. Originally written as the theme song for a Japanese TV drama, it skyrocketed to the top of the charts around the world and is now one of the signature power ballads that Celine Dion is known for. With its theatrical dynamics, virtuosic vocal writing, and impassioned lyrics, To Love You More is a declamation of passion being shouted from the rooftops. Its energy and momentum are perpetual, and the fervor of both the text and music propel the song to its end, never relaxing.

Burt Bacharach’s What the World Needs Now Is Love asks us to think of love as a necessity; not just a personal emotion but a universally shared good that the world cannot function without. Its easy-going melody, conversational feel and repetition throughout the song send the message home that yes, “what the world needs now is love, sweet love. No, not just for some but for everyone.”

Elaine Hagenberg’s stunning O Love is probably the least known of all the music offered today but in the choral world it is considered a contemporary masterpiece and has been sung by choirs around the world. Its reverent text and luminous setting invite reflection and even played as a piano solo without lyrics, the harmonic dissonances and their resolutions evoke sighs that always transform into hope. The lyrics are based upon text by 19th-century Scottish minister George Matheson. Matheson’s words were originally sacred in nature, but can hold meaning for anyone whose heartache has been healed by love.

The smooth groove of the Bee Gees’ How Deep Is Your Love reframes the age-old query: I love you…do you love me? This question really is many questions wrap into one, as it is also asking: Do I matter to you as much as you matter to me? Can I trust you? Am I safe with you? Will you leave me? Does my happiness – or sorrow – mean anything to you? Feeling loved isn’t just something that gives people a warm fuzzy feeling; it provides security, strength, and hope. Feeling loved is more important than ever in the world we live in today. In addition to make sure that the people we care about know that we love them, performing acts of love – to those in our lives, to strangers, to whole communities – is a way to deal with our frustration, our fear, our insecurity. We may not be able to solve homelessness, erase racism, or provide justice for all who have been wronged…but any difference we can make, no matter how small, is putting love into action. Whether in personal relationships, in community, or in the pursuit of social justice, let’s answer the question “How deep is your love?” with both words and deeds.

Today’s MLK Jr. service reflects on how the spiritual autobiography of our nation will be written, emphasizing how we listen, how we care for the next generation, how we respond to organized and normalized evil, and the importance of being open so we may serve a greater good. The piano selections for today’s service reflect these themes, naming pain, modeling courage, and inviting both reflection and action.

I began the prelude with a piano rendition of B.E. Boykin’s Stardust. While the music alone is gripping and powerful, it is the text and intention behind the music that is the most meaningful. In Stardust, the singers call for the following:

• “a home where we can run” in memory of Ahmaud Arbery, the young black man murdered in a 2020 hate crime.
• “a home where we can pray” in memory of the victims of the Mother Emanuel Church shooting
• “a home where we can breathe” in memory of George Floyd
• and a home “to sleep and dream without fear” in memory of Breonna Taylor.

Marcus J. Jauregui – conductor of the Pershing Middle School Treble Chorale Houston ISD and who commissioned this work – shared “When we sing, we pray twice [once with our voices, and again with our hearts], and it is my prayer that this piece stirs all who hear it to call for justice for people of color taken from this world before their time and without concern for their humanity.”

The prelude ended with the theme from To Kill a Mockingbird, a bittersweet piece that I’ve always felt conveys curiosity, lost innocence, and hope despite the ugliness in the world. The story of one good man, Atticus Finch, standing against the entrenched racism in his community, is so special to many of us, and is one of the rare instances of the film measuring up to the original book, as Gregory Peck and Mary Badham’s portrayal of the Atticus and Scout Finch pull at the heartstrings and are hard to forget. Though surrounded by fear and prejudice, Finch listens, teaches, and acts according to conscience, modeling moral courage in the face of hatred and injustice. This theme underscores the responsibility adults bear to model courage, empathy, and justice for those who come after us. By opening ourselves to see the world clearly and to respond to wrong, we honor those who have suffered and provide guidance for the next generation, showing how openness and moral action are inseparable.

Blowin’ in the Wind is a song that represents the sixties but has also been described as an anthem of the civil rights movement. R&B singer and civil rights activist Mavis Staples recalled in Martin Scorsese’s documentary No Direction Home that she was couldn’t believe how a young white man could capture the frustration and aspirations of Black people so powerfully. Soul singer and songwriter Sam Cooke was similarly impressed, making it a regular part of his repertoire soon after its release, and also shared that it inspired him to write his own civil rights anthem, A Change Is Gonna Come. The song asks us to listen deeply, be open to what we are asked to hear, and take responsibility to serve a greater good by refusing to ignore racism, honoring both the movement and the individuals whose lives have been affected by racial violence.

While Precious Lord, Take My Hand is included in the UU hymnal Singing the Living Tradition, it hasn’t been sung in Sunday services often. However, this felt like the perfect postlude for today’s service, as it was Martin Luther King Jr.’s favorite hymn. Its topics of exhaustion, grief, and fear – but also of courage! – was both comforting and inspiring for MLK, and he often asked Mahalia Jackson to sing the hymn at civil rights rallies. After his assassination, Jackson sang the song at his funeral, and in turn, Aretha Franklin sang it at Jackson’s own funeral. Originally composed after the death’s of composer Thomas Doersey’s* family, the song is a reflection on faith tested under pressure, reminding us that confronting entrenched inequality and hatred is difficult and wearying…but that we can still work toward a greater good and try to sustain justice, mercy, and care in the world. And because this was our postlude and meant to send folks off into the world, starting a new week, I made sure to play a more upbeat, blues-inspired arrangement of the song, because members of the UUFC love to dance their way out of the service!

*Not to be confused with bandleader Tommy Dorsey

Leadership often begins with a call and not a plan; we feel a nudge – or push! – inside of us to step forward. The stories from our Council Chairs provided much food for thought on what fuels our own willingness to contribute and get involved in this community. Today’s piano music all led back to what it means to say yes and pitch in, as we each considered how we are being called to participate.

There was a touch of the traditional Scottish song Auld Lang Syne to acknowledge the new year, but the heart of this morning’s prelude was Carole King’s You’ve Got a Friend. The lyrics (“When you’re down and troubled, and you need a helping hand…you just call out my name”) remind us of the power of showing up for others and offering steady support. In the same spirit, contributing time, lending a hand, and joining a committee are ways to be a friend to the Fellowship, helping where it’s needed so the community can thrive.

I played We’ll Build a Land (121 in Singing the Living Tradition) for the offertory…I originally had a different song in mind, but as I listened to Nick, Carl, Scott, and Kathy speak, We’ll Build a Land kept popping in my head instead. This hymn’s message of hope and justice created by shared effort, and its dream of how together we can “build a land where all can dwell in peace” and “make a world of love and truth” were all reflected in the stories we heard. The care, support, and participation from today’s speakers and from every volunteer and congregational leader help shape this “land”, the Fellowship.

The decision to use Heroes by David Bowie for today’s postlude may have been influenced by its inclusion in the finale of Netflix’s sci-fi/coming-of-age series Stranger Things, but that doesn’t make it any less meaningful when it comes to the theme of the day. Heroism doesn’t always have to be grandiose or on a large scale – heroes can be people who step forward and give their time, energy, and passion. Even if it simply appears to be everyday participation in congregational life, volunteering, trying something new, and being an active member of this church makes for a better, richer Fellowship for us all.

This morning Reverend Alex invited us to reflect on desire as a spiritual quality. How can we learn to recognize and trust the spiritual desires within ourselves? When we learn to notice how our spiritual longings take shape as well as to honor the spiritual desires of others, our lives and the lives of those around us will become richer with meaning and purpose.

Massenet’s famous Méditation from Thaïs has been played at weddings, funerals, and all manner of occasions that call for a moment of beauty, emotional depth, and reflection. The opera Thaïs is centered upon Thaïs, a hedonistic courtesan whose life is filled with shallow pleasures and transactional relationships. Thaïs is jaded and nihilistic, living for luxury and the moment, without any substantial meaning to her existance. The monk Athanaël – whose motives aren’t entirely altruistic – warns Thaïs that only focusing on the good life and other superficial indulgences is ultimately empty and destructive. Thaïs is resistant to Athanaël’s urging, but while the intention behind his words isn’t pure, his message forces her to take a look at herself and as the Méditation is performed, Thaïs comes to the realization that she wants something deeper and real. After this revelation, Thaïs abandons her old life and her soul feels fulfilled when she dies at the opera’s conclusion.

Carolyn McDade’s beloved UU hymn “Spirit of Life” carries an astonishing amount within its six brief lines and can be sung in connection with compassion, justice, community, freedom, nature, and the mystery of being. Today, it served as an expression of desire in the form of openness and receptivity, especially in light of Alex’s explanation that desire sometimes comes in a form that we don’t recognize. The original hymn is beautiful as written, but for this service I used slightly altered chords to evoke a stronger sense of yearning, along with an open-ended cadence that suggests hope and continuation rather than a neat and tidy conclusion.

Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” is such a wonderful example of really good song-writing. The melody is lovely and actually goes somewhere (rather than a repetitive phrase that depends on the lyrics or artist’s voice to make it enjoyable), the text is honest and vulnerable, the beautiful harmonic progressions underline the meaning of the lyrics, and the stark transparency of the accompaniment lets the well-crafted melody, words, and harmonies shine, rather than gilding the lily. I can think of no song that better expresses desires that are wistful and deeply human with this level of emotion and simplicity.

Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky” served as today’s postlude and while fast and fun, it still highlights a different facet of spiritual desire: a bright, declamatory longing for connection with something larger than ourselves. Greenbaum wrote this song after being inspired by a gospel music performance; he didn’t share the theology behind the music, but was profoundly moved by the joy and conviction he experienced. “Spirit in the Sky” captures a particular sort of desire so wonderfully – an energetic pull toward meaning, invigoration, and clarity – not to mention a wildly catchy guitar riff! May this postlude serve as a reminder to move toward hope, toward transformation, and toward whatever “sky” or horizon holds meaning for you.