Esse Quam Videri: Faith, Doubt, & Becoming

There are apparently two kinds of people in America right now.  The first group is talking about  The Odyssey . They're debating cinematography, quoting Homer, arguing about whether Christopher Nolan's version captures the themes of homecoming, perseverance, and the human condition. Their social media feeds are full of words like "masterpiece" and "visceral." Then there's me. I spent my afternoon watching Toy Story 5 . But I experienced an emotional journey, too. There was friendship. There was sacrifice. There was existential dread over being replaced by newer, shinier TECH. Honestly, that's not that far from Greek mythology if you think about it and stretch a bit. While Odysseus was battling monsters and resisting sirens, I was watching animated toys wrestle with the terrifying possibility that kids eventually grow up and put aside their playthings — or forget how to play altogether. Different ships. Same emotional damage. Maybe I should've com...

All throughout school, I excelled when it came to English. Anything beyond long division makes me break out in a cold sweat, but composition? Grammar? Advanced placement classes were cakewalks for me. I am a well-rounded and avid reader, and I can write. One assignment, though, still haunts me to this day, and that is when I had to give an in-depth analysis of Robert Frost's Mending Wall . More than 25 years have passed, and I still clearly remember Mrs. Brown's red ink below the final paragraph: "What happened? You missed the point." I think I've got it now. Possibly. And I think it came into focus during a random conversation in a bank parking lot.  Here is the poem. It's helpful to refresh: Something there is that doesn’t love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun; And makes gaps even two can pass abreast. The work of hunters is another thing: I have come after them and made repair Where they have left...

It’s easy to say, “Everyone is welcome.” Most churches say it, right? Most of us genuinely mean it. I wonder, though, if there's a deeper question beneath those words. When we say, “all are welcome,” what are we really inviting people into? Are we inviting them to belong? Or are we inviting them to become like us? Those are not the same thing. Unitarian Universalists have wrestled for decades with why there aren’t more Black people in their congregations. I've heard the question posed at my own church several times in the past couple of years. The short answer is that there isn't one reason, and it’s highly inaccurate to say Black people don't come to UU churches. Many do, and there are Black UU congregations, ministers, and leaders. But it is true that UUism remains disproportionately white. It’s about culture, not just theology. A congregation can sincerely say that everyone is welcome while still feeling extremely white in its norms —  what music is sung...

I want to talk about a thing. I want to talk about the First Principle of Unitarian Universalism: the inherent worth and dignity of every person. And I want to talk about what happens to that principle when the name Donald Trump enters the room. [Yep, folks….I’m really going there!] Because for many of us, perhaps for most of us, that's where the principle begins to strain. Some of us have said it out loud. Others have only thought it. But the thought is the same: Surely there must be an exception. Surely this is the person who forfeited it. If that thought has crossed your mind, you are not shallow, immoral, or un UU. You are human. You are reacting. You are responding to fear, grief, anger, exhaustion, and sometimes trauma. But the question isn’t whether those feelings are understandable. Of course they are. The question is whether the First Principle survives them.   Let’s slow down and look more carefully at the word we rush past. Inherent. The word comes from the Latin inhaere...

I know people — personally — who insist that racism isn't real. Such a ridiculous notion, in my mind, is like insisting the world is flat.  I don't know if reading the news today about one-year Kohen Wiley was a wise decision, but I do know it hasn't left my mind. And if you aren't familiar yet with this baby's name or the horrific circumstances of his death, please look it up. I'm tired, and I don't want to summarize it for you. Kohen is worthy of a few seconds of your screen time and effort. After watching news footage of the protesting at the Senatobia, MS, Walmart, I can assure everyone that racism is alive and well and has bells on. Here are some ~~~definitely unracist~~~ comments left on that footage: "I can smell this video."  "Who opened the cages?"  "Must be the EBT line!"  "Start passing out job applications and the crowd will disperse immediately."  "They're chimping out like never before these day...

I saw something earlier today on Facebook that bothered me. Just a little bit. It felt off. "If you're going to overthink, then overthink the positives. Overthink the best outcome. Overthink how good this life could be. Overthink how peaceful it would feel if things slowly and quietly worked out." I suppose there are people out there who find statements like this comforting or affirming. To me it reeks of spiritual (or emotional? Idk — something!) bypass. I don't think the statement was made with anything but the best intentions, but for many  people out there overthinking isn't something one can simply...redirect.  For the person "overthinking" about how to keep their kids fed or their water turned on or how to pay for a desperately needed pair of shoes, it sounds a hell of a lot like: "Just think about better things." "Don't worry so much about the hard stuff. Focus on the positive." Can we just say that the hard things are real...