More and more churches are offering a “Blue Christmas” service for people struggling during the holiday season. The holidays aren’t the easiest time for everyone, and there are many possible reasons why people might be feeling “blue” during the holidays. Grief is a big one.
My Unitarian Universalist church offered a Blue Christmas service on Tuesday. It was offered both in-person and on Zoom, which is so nice for our elderly and/or homebound members.
I’m not feeling particularly blue this year, so I didn’t go, but it’s good to know that these mixed feelings about the holidays are acknowledged and supported by my community. I’m sure some year I will want to go. The blues come for everyone.
My thoughts are with one particular friend who is missing her late, loving husband so terribly this season. 💙
I was at church ALL day yesterday. I got there at 9 for choir rehearsal. Then we had the service and coffee hour. After that, I attended a four-hour retreat for the Executive Team of the church. (I agreed to fill a one-year position on the Standing Committee. Typically these are three-year positions, but someone got sick and couldn’t fulfill their term.)
I’m finding that this leadership role feels a lot like work, except I’m not getting paid. If I’m going to be doing stuff that feels like work, I think I’d rather be getting paid. In my new post-election “Circle the Wagons” mentality, volunteerism should be limited to fun things that I truly enjoy, like singing in the choir and sacred circle dances. Anything else I do should directly benefit my own family. Therefore, it would be better for me to get a paid part-time job than continue to do volunteer work that feels like real work.
Pretty selfish, huh? Well that’s what the election hath wrought in this previously civic-minded, privileged white lady. Fuck it. I’m all about me and my own family now.
In addition to being politically liberal and drinking a lot of coffee, Unitarian Universalists (UUs) are known for talking endlessly. Our congregations are self-governed, democratically, without much control by the national organization. The minister is paid (obviously) but has no real authority over the congregation, other than her moral and intellectual leadership. The power of persuasion is her main tool.
Here are some classic jokes about UUs:
Why did the UU cross the road?
• To support the chicken in its search for its own path.
What’s a UU’s idea of a great sermon?
• A strong opening, a thoughtful middle, and no definite conclusion.
I encountered a lot of naked despair, grief and anger at church today. I belong to a liberal Unitarian Universalist church outside of Boston. Many people were absolutely wrecked over the election results, including the minister.
We have many older members (I guess that includes me now at nearly 60) who have been fighting for all types of causes for decades, from the climate crisis to abortion. My church helped lead the marriage equality movement in Massachusetts. (We were the very first state in the country to legalize gay marriage in 2004–twenty years ago!) During the fight, our then minister refused to perform weddings in our beautiful historic church until same-sex marriage was legal. He really took a stand and it helped move things forward. Shortly after the law was passed, he married two longtime beloved church members—two women—in front of of the entire congregation. It was euphoric.
Anyway, I was doing OK at church, holding up pretty well, until the music director played John Lennon’s Imagine during the offertory. Oh man, hearing that just broke me (and a bunch of other people too). She was playing it beautifully on the grand piano (with no vocalist) but of course everyone in our congregation knows the words and was quietly singing along.
And the stakes seem absolutely monumental. Not just for the United States, but for the whole world.
The best advice I’ve seen is from my former UU minister, the Reverend Fred Small. He says, “If you’re feeling anxious (or worse) about the presidential election, I recommend deep breaths, meditation, and this video released last night by the Harris campaign.”
He was right. The video makes me feel better. We’ve got some extremely competent and professional women— like Jen O’Malley Dillon and Dana Remus—running the Harris Campaign. They know what they’re doing.
As part of my duties as a member of my church’s Executive Team, I briefly occupied the pulpit this morning. First time!
I’m pleased to report that despite my current state of mind, I was extremely pleasant. No F-bombs were dropped. I did not make any verbal references (veiled or otherwise) to the upcoming election, although I did wear my Chuck Taylor sneakers and some pearls. And also a brat-green t-shirt.
I received a couple of knowing compliments on my sneakers and feedback that I was a “natural” up there. I consider this a win (although I did forget to say a couple of things I had planned). Next time I’m going to write my remarks in large print on an index card, instead of looking at the tiny typeface on my phone.
It’s now been a whole year since the Hamas-led terrorist attacks on Israel in which 1,200 men, women and thirty-six children were horrifically killed and 250 abducted. Since then, over 40,000 Palestinian civilians have been killed and countless thousands have been injured and displaced, including mothers, children and infants.
Mothers, children, and infants, like my precious granddaughter…
My minister shared this poem on Sunday and it really struck a chord with our Unitarian Universalist congregation.
“If God Would Go On a Sick Leave: A Poem of Peace”
by Rabbi Zoë Klein
Nowhere is there more prayer. The Nuns at the Holy Sepulchre. The faithful at Al Aqsa Mosque. The worshippers at the Wall. The call to prayer at dawn and dusk Warbling from the citadels. The church bells, The Persian trills, The passion spilled over texts From every major/minor religious sect. Nowhere is there more prayer than Jerusalem, Thanks be to God, Hamdilala, Baruch Hashem. And yet, I’m starting to think that it’s You and not them, God, what’s the point of prayer? If there’s nowhere where There’s more prayer, And terror reigns Then, Who’s to blame? If suddenly, without a whisper goodbye, Jesus, Allah, Adonai, The three men they admire most All took the last train for the coast, And the Moslems got up from their knees And the Christians put down their rosaries And the Jews stayed their hands from kissing Their mezuzahs, And everyone looked up, And realized something’s missing… God is missing. Stop the praying! No One’s there, They’d arrange a party to search everywhere. They’d look for God But there’d be no Presence In Holy Books or stars and crescents Or steeples and crosses. People’d be at a loss, Is He ever coming back? They’d be so distraught, Their searching for naught, There’d be nothing on high So they’d turn to on low, There’d be nothing above So they’d turn to below, And they’d finally see there, In the face of the other, A semblance of sister, The eyes of a brother, They’d turn and they’d lean Upon one another. You see, every group can’t believe that they’re the ones chosen, Every group can’t believe that the Holy Land’s owed them, Sometimes faith in You, God, Builds insurmountable walls, And everyone falls. Everyone falls. How wise are the secularists for whom the dead aren’t martyred But, quite plainly, murdered… This might sound like an absurd, ungodly thing to say, A truly heretical supplication to pray, (I say this only out of the deepest respect) But if for a few days, God, You’d just give it a rest, If You’d take a sick leave and just go away And let Israel work this out without You in the way, God, for that kind of peace, You’re a small price to pay.
As I’ve mentioned many times (including yesterday), I was raised Catholic, but left that church as a young adult.
I found my way to a Unitarian Universalist (UU) church for my wedding, and years later joined a different UU church, due primarily to a wonderful young minister who gave fantastic sermons. He left, but I joined the choir and that kept me involved. I found it to be a warm and welcoming community for me and my daughter. My husband, also an ex-Catholic, wasn’t interested in going to church on Sundays, so we went without him.
Later, when we moved to a different town, I checked out several UU churches in my new area. I ended up joining the one with the best choir and the most beautiful sanctuary. I’ve been a member of that church for nearly 20 years now. I’m still singing in the choir and will be joining the Standing Committee (leadership team) for the coming year.
One of the things I like about my church is the large handmade quilt that hangs in the front, behind the pulpit.
Italicized text excerpted from Reverend Fred Small’s dedication sermon, October 22, 2006:
As a non-creedal faith, Unitarian Universalism honors and draws upon all of the world’s wisdom traditions. The FCU Sanctuary Quilt, “Many Paths, One Congregation,” includes symbols of world religions and philosophies – and one blank.Unitarian Universalism descends from protestant Christianity, but today is multi-faith.Unitarian Universalists believe that we can learn something from every religion. As individuals, we may favor Buddhism or Christianity or Paganism or Humanism, but as a religious movement we draw upon all of these and more.
The Quilt Squares
First Row
In the upper left, representing Humanism, is the symbol of the American Humanist Association: a stylized human figure in the form of a capital H. According to the Humanist Manifesto III: “Humanism is a progressive philosophy of life that, without supernaturalism, affirms our ability and responsibility to lead ethical lives of personal fulfillment that aspire to the greater good of humanity.”
In the top center is a symbol of the Unitarian Universalist Association: a flaming chalice within two overlapping circles, which represent the consolidated movements of Unitarianism and Universalism.
Last but by no means least: an empty space. It acknowledges the quilt’s incompleteness and our own, affirms humility in the face of mystery, and celebrates our continuing journey toward understanding.
Second Row
Next are three religions rooted in Asia: Taoism, Hinduism, and Buddhism.
The yin and yang symbol shows opposites intertwined, in eternal Equilibrium, representing Taoism.
The Hindu symbol is the word “Om” in Sanskrit, evoking the infinite Brahman and the entire Universe. Revered as the primal sound, “Om” is the first word of most Hindu mantras.
The Buddhist symbol is the wheel of dharma. “Dharma” means law or teaching. The wheel’s turning represents spiritual progress through the Buddha’s Eightfold Path, symbolized by the eight spokes of the wheel.
Third Row
In the next row are the familiar symbols of the three Abrahamic faiths in chronological order left to right: the Jewish Star of David, the Cross of Christianity, and Islam’s Crescent and Star.
Muslims call all three religions “people of the book” because all deem holy the Hebrew Scriptures, with Christians adding their New Testament and Muslims the Qur’an as well.
Fourth Row
The bottom row bears the symbols of Native American, Earth-centered, and Goddess-centered religions. These ancient and indigenous traditions undergird and inform the scriptural religions that followed them and absorbed many of their images, stories, and practices.
The turtle represents the Nipmuc people, who lived in this region before the coming of Europeans. The Nipmuc call our world Turtle Island because it sits on the turtle’s back. The thirteen shells represent the lunar months.
The tree of life, branches reaching into the sky, roots sunk deep in the earth, linking the three worlds: heaven, earth, and underworld. Skeletal and deathlike in winter, green and lush in summer, the tree represents immortality, rebirth, and wisdom in many cultures.
The triple moon, symbolizing the goddess, the feminine face of the divine. The three lunar phases—waxing, full, and waning—represent the three stages of women’s power: Maiden, Mother, and Crone.
Wait a sec! I just noticed that last bit about the three phases of women’s power. I’m not so sure I like being called a “crone.” I’ll have to give that some thought and report back.
That’s one thing about being UU, there’s always room for discussion.
As one of the oldest GenXers, I’ve had the internet for just about half of my life, so I remember pre-internet life quite well.
The turning point was around the time I got married—in 1993. I planned the entire wedding and honeymoon without the internet. Imagine that. I had books, a work friend who loved weddings, Bride magazine, a landline, and my mother as my main resources.
As a courtesy to my mother, I called my childhood Catholic church to inquire about getting married there. At that time, my future husband and I were already living together, which is considered to be “the sin of adultery” in the Catholic Church. The fact that we were cohabitating was clear from the greeting on our answering machine.
Well, the very sound of the priest’s condescending voice on my answering machine when he returned my call sent me straight to the Unitarian church down the street. And that’s where we ended up getting married.
Before the internet, the human voice and all its various inflections, mattered more than they do now. There were no emojis, only “your tone” — and I did not like Father Sheehan’s tone.
#1) ME! I pay attention to my instincts and tend to value my own wisdom. I’ve got 58 years worth of life experience. Sometimes great revelations hit me late at night, frequently after smoking marijuana. Weed and writing both help me gain clarity.
I was recently honored to be nominated for my church’s Standing Committee. It’s the 6-member executive team that is responsible for all of the organization’s business affairs, including the annual budget and managing the staff. It’s validating, because it shows that other people respect my wisdom and judgment too.
#2) MY HUSBAND. He’s smart and he doesn’t panic. He’s very good at giving advice on medical concerns (i.e. it’s fine; you’ll be fine; I’ve had that; it’s nothing, etc) and occasionally gives good input on fashion (i.e. I like the red one better). It took him awhile to learn this, but he usually knows when the best advice is just to listen and not give any advice. IF I wanted advice on how to get physically stronger, I would ask him, because he knows a lot about it, but I’m way too lazy for lifting weights. He’s also a reader. In my opinion, people who read books tend to give good advice.
Some years ago, I would’ve put my parents on this list, but I don’t typically seek their advice these days.
My kids are getting better at advice-giving as they get older, especially my daughter who is basically a professional advice-giver through her astrology business.
My son is good for one-off tech tips like “try turning it off and on.”
The Standing Committee is also responsible for managing our beautiful, historic church building, erected in 1841.
Inside is an absolutely stunning, classic New England sanctuary in the Greek Revival architectural style. Services are online every Sunday at 10am (EST) here. Check us out, especially if you’re not “religious” and think traditional church is not for you. Atheists welcomed. We are a member congregation of the UUA. 🌈 ☮️ 💓 🌎 🎶
I am a church-goer, but not a Christian. For many years I have attended Unitarian Universalist (UU) churches in Massachusetts. Nearly every town has one. My #1 reason for going to church is to sing in the choir. My #2 reason is to hear a good sermon. I’ve been lucky to have some very smart ministers who consistently deliver thoughtful, interesting sermons.
My current minister opened the church year last Sunday (UU churches take summers off) talking about how she likes learning foreign words that have no real English equivalent. “Esperanza,” she said means both hope and waiting in Spanish. She said “expectancy” was the closest English equivalent.
That got me thinking about other words like that. In Italy, they say “prego” all the time. Sometimes they say it twice in a row – or even three times. It can mean anything from please, to what, to “after you.” On a trip to Italy in 2009, my family got a quadruple prego, which meant “hurry up and get on this bus NOW.”
There are a couple of German words that have made their way into English that I really like. One is “schadenfreude.” So fun to say. And I mean, let’s face it, Facebook basically required the adoption of “schadenfreude” into English. (Show me 67 pictures of your perfect family Thanksgiving and you’re setting yourself up for some schadenfreude. Sorry!) But the one I really love is ZEITGEIST. It’s SO fun to say and to think about. Something in the zeitgeist helped make Barbie the top-grossing movie of 2023. I wonder which new streaming shows will truly capture the zeitgeist of the 1980s?
My husband knows I like “zeitgeist” and texted me at work to let me know that Dana Bash had just used it on CNN. About what? Hunter Biden.
My family in Rome where we got a quadruple “prego”
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