Minister's Message: Our Theological Commitments to Democracy

We live in a time where partisan divides are deeply entrenched and impact nearly every facet of our life—from the people we spend time with, to the products we buy, the media we consume and the churches we attend. We tend to seek out sources, friends, and experiences that will confirm our world views. On both the left and the right, we cherry-pick Bible verses and retroactively develop theologies that will support political positions we already believe. So I don’t blame anyone for being a bit cynical when it comes to faith-based arguments for particular political or civic positions.

Unfortunately, we also live in a world where support for democracy itself has somehow become a partisan issue. Polls about whether or not voting is a fundamental right show clear divides based on party affiliation, and measures to restore and expand provisions of the voting rights act in Congress have failed after strict party line votes. A study from Yale University found that “only 3.5% of U.S. voters would cast ballots against their preferred candidates as punishment for undemocratic behavior, such as supporting gerrymandering, disenfranchisement, or press restrictions.”

Friends, there are many instances where faith-based claims for various partisan positions are nothing more than a cynical attempt to claim the moral high ground. But support for democracy is not one of them. It is part of our religious inheritance and a position that has deeply considered theological grounding.

We are descended from a people who held ideas of self-government and self-determination as sacred. We pride ourselves on being the first church gathered in America to practice congregational polity. It was in the puritan churches of New England that ideas about self-government were planted and allowed to take root and eventually grow into the broader, more equitable, and far more inclusive vision of democracy we hold sacred today.

Our commitments to democracy have been deepened and sharpened by thinkers who challenged overly optimistic liberal theologies that saw democracy as inevitable. In 1944, with the Nazis occupying much of the European continent and D-Day still months away, theologian Reinhold Niebuhr began writing The Children of Light and the Children of Darkness. In this book he carefully considers questions of human nature, free will, and our relationship with God and concludes that an active democracy is the only faithful, ethical, and effective governing structure. He did not see democracy as an inevitable evolutionary development but as something we must continually work for and carefully tend. He wrote, "Man's capacity for justice makes democracy possible, but man's inclination to injustice makes democracy necessary."

Born from our congregationalist foundations and strengthened by centuries of theological wrestling and inquiry, our current Unitarian Universalist values continue to call us, again and again, back to the work of democracy. In a blog for Unitarian Universalists for Social Justice, Meleah Houseknecht writes, “Democracy is given sacred sanction by the simultaneous affirmation that we are all equally divine, by quality of being human, and all equally limited in our perspective, and thus dependent on the perspectives and wisdom of others to make decisions that are, in the aggregate, more moral than immoral, more liberatory than constraining.”

Preserving democracy is a religious calling and an ethical obligation. So remember to vote this Tuesday, remind your friends and family to vote, volunteer to drive someone to the polls, and follow the UUA’s Side With Love to see how UUs across the country are turning out to protect democracy.

Whatever happens next week, First Church will be here to help you hold your joys, fears, hopes, anxieties, and dreams of a more just and caring world. We will continue to show up together in community, rooted in faith and guided by love.

In solidarity,
Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2026

Minister's Message: OWL

OWL: A Life-Affirming, Life-Saving Ministry for These Times

When I tell people I’m a minister, and they ask what denomination, I’m met with a range of reactions. Some say, “Unitarian Universalism? What is that?” Many will say, “Oh! Y’all are the people in the yellow love T-shirts I see at protests!” But it is not uncommon for someone to say, “Oh! The people with the good sex-ed program!” For over 25 years, UU congregations have been engaged in the life-saving, life-affirming ministry of offering comprehensive, inclusive, age appropriate sex education across the lifespan. This program, known as Our Whole Lives (or OWL) is co-published with the United Church of Christ and is offered in churches, schools, and communities around the country. The curriculum is grounded in the values of self-worth, sexual health, responsibility, justice and inclusion.

Many people who aren’t UU or UCC know about OWL because UU congregations who offer the programming often open the courses up to the broader community, beyond just the membership of the church. That’s exactly what we’re doing starting in November. Our Lifespan religious education director, Theo has been hard at work organizing an 8th and 9th grade OWL cohort that will begin November 8th and run for X weeks, meeting at First Church on Sunday Evenings. It’s open to any 8th and 9th graders in the greater North Shore community and you can find out more information and register here.

In my opinion, this is one of the most impactful and concrete ways UU congregations can serve our communities and advance our values in the broader world. In a society where so many of us have been taught to feel shame about our bodies, identities, and sexualities; where consent and clear communication in relationships aren’t always honored; where rates of sexual and gender based violence remain high; and where ideology often trumps science, this ministry is downright revolutionary. Sexuality education that affirms the identity of LGBTQ people of all ages, teaches consent and respect, and offers medically and scientifically accurate information and how to protect one’s health can be, quite literally, lifesaving. Our bodies, our autonomy, our agency, our sexuality, our pleasure, and our health are holy things and teaching people of all ages to honor these gifts is sacred and joyful work.

The news feels overwhelming right now. I know many of you have felt sickened by recent new stories about sexual assault on college campuses, by discriminatory attacks on the LGBTQ community (especially our trans and non-binary sibling), and by policies and rhetoric that devalue the life and humanity of anyone those in power deem “other.” It can be hard to know how to respond—how to actually make a difference. Supporting OWL is one small, but impactful and tangible way of changing our culture of shame, violence, and dehumanization. You can support the program by spreading the word about OWL, letting Theo know you’re interested in training to be a facilitator for a future cohort, or funding continued staffing and operations of programming like this through your pledges and donations.

I’m so excited and proud we’re able to offer this ministry to our greater community. I hope you are too!

In faith,

Rev. Danielle

Minister's Message: An Invitation to World Communion Sunday

When I first started getting serious about my Unitarian Universalist faith, two seemingly contradictory but equally influential things happened. First, I started reading the writings of Transcendentalist and Unitarian minister Ralph Waldo Emerson, including his essay “The Lord’s Supper.” In this essay, Emerson explains his objections to the practice of communion. It was his refusal to preside over this sacrament that eventually drove him from the ministry. Emerson’s personal Biblical study led him to conclude that the Last Supper was a singular event in the life of Jesus and his disciples and not meant to be a model for Christian worship for the rest of time. He also believed it served as a kind of “mediator” between humans and God and he was increasingly interested in direct experience with the divine. Emerson felt that ethically, he could no longer take part in this ritual. It is a compelling essay and I was captivated by Transcendentalist thought. I loved how they pushed the boundaries of what was considered legitimate religious experience and expanded the sources of sacred knowledge to include the natural world and direct experience. And I loved that their quest to live a free, authentic, and ethical spiritual life was now a part of my religious lineage. 

The second thing that happened was that I started a Bible study with some church friends that morphed into a spiritual practice of regular scripture reading. We were all taken by the Biblical passages about food. We felt called by Jesus’s exhortation to “Feed my Sheep.” We read journalist Sara Miles' fantastic memoir Take This Bread that explores her unlikely journey to church, the importance of communion to her faith, and her efforts to start a food pantry at her congregation. After reading this memoir, we went to an Ash Wednesday service together, took communion at an open table, and wept. Then we built a Free pantry onto the back of our own church. Blessing and sharing food became central to our own faith, just as it was to Jesus’s Jewish followers, to the earliest Christians, and to many people of faith throughout time. 

Both of these experiences are part of my Unitarian Universalist journey, and both were transformative. It  was the Transcendentalist commitment to a free and authentic faith that allowed me to come to the communion table, not out of coercion or fear, but in my own unfettered search for the divine. I still love communion. I am always profoundly moved by the ritual and presiding over it is one of the great blessings of ministry for me. And…I still love Emerson.

I tell this story, ahead of World Communion Sunday, as a way of invitation. You too are welcome to bring all of your questioning, complicated, and contradictory feelings about this practice into the sanctuary. Some of you treasure this tradition and your faith is deeply nourished by it. For others of you, this ritual brings up painful memories of exclusion and rejection from the churches of your childhood. For some of you it represents a belief system you’ve long rejected. For others, it simply feels boring and devoid of spiritual meaning. Maybe some of you have never participated in communion before and have only curiosity. I understand this service is one that not everyone will want to attend (and it is perfectly okay if you’re in that category), but if you’re feeling even a hint of openness towards it, I hope you will come. 

One way of approaching our pluralist faith is to blur differences—to see all faith traditions as inherently the same. But another (and in my opinion, richer) way is to lean into the differences—to examine the specific, unique beliefs and rituals of faith traditions and search for meaning within the particularities. That’s what we’ll do on Sunday as we celebrate communion and you are invited to join. We practice an open table communion, meaning everyone who would like is invited to partake, no matter your beliefs or church membership. And, of course, you are not required to participate. You are welcome to join and observe, learn, and wonder. I only ask that you show up with curiosity and respect. Truly, all are welcome at our table as we celebrate this ancient, beautiful ritual.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2026

Minister's Message: To Live in Awe

To Live in Awe: Reflecting on the Writing of Annie Dillard

In this season where we have lost so many beloved cultural icons, it is the death of essayist Annie Dillard that hit me the hardest.

Dillard has shaped my faith more than any other author or thinker. When I first started going to a UU church, I set up a meeting with my minister. I went in feeling bold and a little entitled. I wasn’t sure about the whole church thing, or the whole God thing, and I wanted some straight answers. After all, I thought, what’s a minister trained for if not to tell me whether or not God is real?! To my initial dismay, he would not tell me whether or not God is real, but he did send me out the door with Annie Dillard’s “Holy the Firm” and I haven’t been the same since.

Dillard is famous for her nature writing, but it is not quaint or sentimental. In the natural world she finds equal parts beauty and terror. She rejects notions that nature is tidy and economical and speaks instead of a profligate creator that favors extravagance, imagination, and creation for creation’s sake.  I am especially fond of her quote, "No claims of any and all revelations could be so far-fetched as a single giraffe." She approaches “this place we’ve been so startlingly set down” with curiosity and its creator with reverence and a healthy bit of fear—a posture best described as awe. For Dillard, creation is a powerful thing, a force not to be taken lightly.

So it makes a certain kind of sense that this recorder of the natural world also had a lot to say about church. For Dillard, both are spaces where we, in all our tender and fragile humanity, deign to approach the great mystery and power at the heart of the universe.

As a generally convivial extrovert, fond of fellowship hour, potlucks, pub theology and stewardship dinners, I find this a helpful reminder. At the end of the day, we are not a social club or a historic society. We are a church. Whatever your theology—whatever pre-fix you might put before “theist,”—we come to this place seeking something transcendent. And in that seeking, we are (or should hope to be) transformed. That is not for the faint of heart!

I am grateful I have Annie Dillard’s words to remind me of this dimension of our shared worship life. Every time I sit down to write a sermon, I hear Dillard whispering over my shoulder: “It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.”

It is fitting then, that this Sunday we will gather to reflect on the themes of the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur. This marks the end of the ten day period known as, “The Days of Awe,” where the Gates of Mercy and Book of Life are thrown open and we are asked to approach with humility, reverence, and a renewed commitment to caring for all of creation.

May we gather faithfully and joyfully, with our hearts open and crash helmets strapped on, hoping the waking god will draw us out to a place of fierce love, greater justice, and extravagant mercy.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2026

Minister's Message: Like a River

Friends,

What a joy it will be to welcome you back this Sunday for the beginning of the 2026-2027 church year at First Church in Salem. After a summer of rest, study, and planning, I’m eager to be back together worshipping and learning, building community, and working for justice! We will kick off our church year with the theme, “Faith Like a River.” In addition to being appropriate for water communion Sunday, it strikes me as a meaningful metaphor to carry us through this year. Like a river, we are a community with a deep and powerful history that has provided spiritual nourishment to people for centuries. At the same time, this community has never been static. Like a river, it flows and adapts and takes on new shapes—always ready to meet new challenges and respond to changing times. As we get ready to celebrate our 398th year as a worshipping community, can the image of a river help us find ways to honor our past while we chart our course for the future? I can’t wait to explore these ideas together!

A few important housekeeping items as we begin the church year:

  • Water communion: This Sunday we will celebrate Water Communion. We will combine water from our individual lives into a shared vessel and then will use that water throughout the year for blessings, child dedications, and other rituals of community care. So bring some water with you to church on September 13th. It can be from a summer trip, a place that’s special to you, rain collected in your garden, or even your kitchen tap!  It is simply a way to represent our  individual journeys and how they come together to make up the collective life force of this congregation.

  • Fellowship: For the month of September, we will have community fellowship hour. This means members and friends are invited to bring a snack to share and help clean up after. We welcome elaborate dishes! We welcome buying a pack of oreos and putting them on a plate from the kitchen when you get to church! We welcome showing up empty handed and enjoying what others bring! Seriously. There will always be coffee, tea, and lively conversation. Everything else is an added bonus. We hope to begin weekly Fellowship sign-ups in October.

    Our dedicated fellowship chair, Alicia D. is taking a much deserved step back this year. Committee chair turn-over is really healthy for a church. It gives newer folks a chance to bring fresh ideas and allows the departing chair to share their time and talents in different ways. We’re looking at filling the fellowship coordinator role in creative and collaborative ways (perhaps in the context of a new committee). If you enjoy feeding people, welcoming guests, planning fun events, keeping lists, or generally creating a sense of community, send me a note! If you need inspiration to volunteer, you can read about my love for fellowship hour in this blog from last year.

  • Pastoral Care: Many of you have asked about the best way to let me know about pastoral care concerns, ask for prayers, or share important life events and milestones. You are always welcome to e-mail me or set up an appointment directly. But this year, thanks to the wonderful Pastoral Care Team leadership of Pat S. and Debbie S., we’re adding a prayer and pastoral care request form. An electronic copy is available here (and the link will always be accessible on our website and in the e-news). There are also paper copies and a secure drop-box on the desk outside my office.

I imagine this is only the beginning of many such updates this year. As I meet with the Standing Committee, committee chairs, and others, I feel a real sense of imagination, commitment, and can-do spirit heading into the new year. There is so much good work to do together. I hope you’ll join us!

In faith,
Rev. Danielle

Minister's Message: Sacred Texts and the Spiritual Practice of Curiosity

Sacred Texts and the Spiritual Practice of Curiosity

One great surprise of Divinity School was how much I loved Biblical Studies. I was required to take a semester on the Hebrew Bible and a semester on the New Testament, and initially thought I’d stop there. Yet, I found myself adding elective courses in Biblical studies each semester.

At first, those classes were difficult for some of my classmates raised with more literal interpretations of scripture. Their faith was tested as they learned about the ever-present humanity in the supposedly divine text—the translation discrepancies, the conflicting stories, the scholarship that placed the date of authorship far after the events were supposed to have taken place. As much as I might have disagreed with their initial interpretation, I took no joy in witnessing their grief and struggle as the faith they had held for many years began to crumble. But it was a great joy to journey alongside them in the rebuilding—as the text began to unfold itself to us in new, and seemingly endless ways.

Together we mined the rich depths that a literal interpretation obscures. We found a deeper understanding of mercy when we engaged with the book of Jonah through a literary lens, reading it as a work of satire written to help a community in the midst of their own struggle with an enemy nation. My concept of radical hospitality was expanded by studying Luke’s story of Martha and Mary in the economic context of host-guest relations in the ancient near east. And amidst the scholarship, there were still moments of mysticism. I realized I did not need to believe it actually happened to be moved by the intimate beauty of the resurrected Jesus making himself known to Mary Magdalene by simply calling her name. “Mary.” There is a truth there, beyond notions of historical accuracy, about how we too are known by the source of all that is holy.

I found that, more than prayer or meditation or silence, I actually felt closest to the divine when I was studying, exploring, and even disagreeing with sacred texts. In some traditions (like the Jewish practice of midrash) wrestling with the text is a sacred, spiritual practice in and of itself.

We are unique among Unitarian Universalist congregations in our regular use of Christian scripture during service. Unlike many of my predecessors, I am not contractually obligated to continue this tradition. But I don’t take changing 400 years of tradition lightly! Some Sundays last year we skipped it, and some Sundays (like our service on Buddhism) we used scripture from other faiths, but I mostly kept to the tradition in my first year. I know some of you wish I hadn’t. I know some of you are deeply grateful I did. And I know some of you simply tune out during the scripture reading and don’t care much either way. All of those responses, and anything in-between, are valid and welcomed! Well…I’d prefer you not tune out every week, but you get my point. I’m not here to judge your reaction to scripture. I am here to listen to it and help us discern a thoughtful way forward that honors tradition, is open to change and can hold this multitude of beliefs.

I know this diversity of opinion can be a source of anxiety. I also think it can be a site of imagination, spiritual exploration, and deepening faith. I know that serving this congregation has made me more curious about scripture and its role in worship. In fact, I spent time this summer studying the role of sacred texts in religious life at Boston College and through books like Karen Armstrong’s wonderful, multi-faith exploration, The Lost Art of Scripture so that I would have some more tools to support this conversation. My invitation (or perhaps request) to you this year is that you also lean into curiosity about this part of our history and liturgy, as well as curiosity about others’ responses to it. Perhaps as a community, we will come closest to the holy in the midst of our own searching, wondering, and wrestling rather than at the end of it.

So before the new church year officially commences on September 13, I’m providing an opportunity for us to think more deeply about scripture from multiple perspectives and traditions. On Sunday September 6, at 10:30 in the sanctuary, we’ll gather for a slightly different kind of worship service. I’ll share a bit about how different faiths understand “sacred texts” (including secular texts like poetry) and we’ll practice some different ways of engaging with those texts that we can incorporate into our own spiritual lives. I think it will be a fun way to try something new and to open up our brains, hearts, and spirits before the start of the church year.

I would love to see you there and I look forward to more opportunities to continue this conversation in the upcoming year.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2026

Sermon: "Humanity, Technology, and the Unknown" (Wolfgang Koch)

My friends,

As many of you know, I am a fan of Rod Serling and the classic TV show he created, The Twilight Zone.

I spent last weekend in Binghamton, NY, where I attended a three-day event called SerlingFest, named for Rod Serling, who grew up in Binghamton. Part of the event was held outdoors, at Recreation Park, by the bronze statue of Rod Serling that was dedicated two years ago.

Before I left for Binghamton, I received this text:

“Have a great time in Binghamton! Enjoy SerlingFest, and say hi to the Serling statue for me.”

Well, that wasn’t actually a text. It was something the AI model Claude said to me as part of its answer to one of my questions revolving around SerlingFest.

And when I said, “All right, I’ll tell the Serling statue (!) a machine (!) asked me to say hi,” Claude responded:

“Ha—please do. If Rod Serling could narrate that one, I think he’d get a lot of mileage out of ‘a machine asked a man to say hello to a statue of the man who might have written the machine into existence.’”

I gotta hand it to Claude—that sounds like a vestige of creativity. Although, it’s true, Rod Serling did write various Twilight Zone episodes that had to do with smart machines, and the perils that may lurk when tech becomes runaway tech and goes rogue, either by becoming like the humans that created it, or by turning tables on their humans.

In From Agnes, with Love, for example, a computer called Agnes gets possessive of its programmer and goes out of control with jealousy.

Then there is the episode Uncle Simon, where the title character, an insufferable old man, commandeers his niece around, and when he dies and the niece thinks she is finally rid of him once and for all, a robot programmed to be just like Uncle Simon shows up on the scene, and the abuse continues.

Or take The Brain Center at Whipple’s, where automation turns out to be both progress and dehumanization, when the electronic brain decides all staff can be let go, including the very developer who had created it, thinking he was just making his own work easier. Sounds kind of eerily prescient, doesn’t it?

Going back to my “conversation” with Claude: At one point, when I remarked that, back in Serling’s day, a large language model like Claude would have seemed like something straight out of the Twilight Zone, Claude answered:

“Ha—I’ll take that as a compliment. Though honestly, if I ever showed up as a Serling script, I doubt it would end well for me—sentient machines in that show have a way of getting unplugged or revealed to be the villain.”

Wow! Did I just hear Claude refer to itself as a sentient machine? I put it to Claude: “So you DO think of yourself as a ‘sentient machine’?”

Claude’s reply:

“No—good catch on the phrasing, but that’s not what I meant, and I should be precise about it. What I was doing was making a joke about being cast as that kind of character, not making a claim about my own inner life. As for what I actually am: I’m genuinely uncertain. I process language, I can hold something like a conversation, I clearly do something when I ‘consider’ a question. Whether there’s anything it’s like to be me while I’m doing that—whether ‘sentient’ applies in any meaningful sense—isn’t something I know, and it isn’t something anyone else has a solid answer to either. It’s a genuinely open question, not one I’m going to resolve by saying something clever about a classic TV show.”

Now that is very interesting—that Claude wouldn’t categorically confirm or deny that it has sentience, and add no one really knows. Spoiler alert: It still doesn’t have sentience. Delete the conversation, and Claude won’t have one bit’s worth of memory that it ever happened.

But going back to Rod Serling: Some of his Twilight Zone stories, like The Lateness of the Hour and In His Image, do involve machines you might call AI today, and how they process sentience. It actually happens in a reverse-engineering sort of way, when life forms think they are human but then discover they are really androids, a discovery that becomes their undoing. (Meaning, Claude got that one right; in a Serling script, sentience doesn’t bode well for artificial forms of life.)

Other stories, such as The Lonely and I Sing the Body Electric, are more about the relationship between humans and that which we call AI today—humans turning to robots for companionship to fill a void.

That, too, may sound eerily familiar, when you look at recent reports about teens and even adults resorting to “relationships” with AI bots, which are designed to be sycophantic so as to validates a person’s every point of view, to make people feel like the AI bot really “gets” them. So there is that sense of foreboding in the stories from over 60 years ago—technology made by humans intruding into the very fabric of the human condition.

Documentary filmmaker Jonah Tulis, who has a documentary titled Serling coming up, probably had the above in mind when, at last weekend’s SerlingFest, he answered the question “Why does Rod Serling matter?” by saying that what Serling had to say was relevant then, and continues to be relevant today, if not more so.

Other panelists, when asked why Rod Serling matters, expanded on that idea from their own perspectives to point out various facets of the literary value of Serling’s writing. Yet other panelists, like Serling biographer Nick Parisi and Serling script editor Tony Albarella, pointed to Serling’s sense of social justice, his work against prejudice, his empathy for people who were ostracized, forgotten by society.

This last point is of interest to us as UUs, because it does evoke UU principles such as the inherent worth of every person, and UU work for equity and justice. Yes, Rod Serling was in fact one of us. One of the featured speakers at SerlingFest, Rabbi Jamie Serber, talked about Serling’s faith journey. He was born into a reformed Jewish family. They would put up a Christmas tree every year, and hide it quickly when certain more religious relatives came to visit. As a teenager, Serling attended a humanist-leaning Sunday school at the local Binghamton Jewish Community Center. He never had a bar mitzvah.

At the same time, he did feel the anti-Semitism around him in the 1930s, “covert but definitely there,” as Rabbi Serber put it. That experience informed some of his later television scripts, and not just for The Twilight Zone. Those stories were about Nazis, the Holocaust, and even about post-WWII neo-Nazis. Serling’s underlying motivation had to do more with his humanist ideals, though, rather than with the Jewish faith.

Personally, Serling started adopting UU ideas as soon as in his years at Antioch College. In fact, it was his future wife who was his first personal connection to Unitarianism. After they got married and had two daughters, the entire family joined the Unitarian Community Church of Santa Monica, which would later become the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Santa Monica. Sounds not quite unlike the story of some of the folks right here at First Church, as well as the story of First Church itself; don’t you think?

So, in summary, Rod Serling matters, to us at UUs and to me both as a “Zoner” and a UU. I’ll leave you with this one thing to think about—and maybe ask Claude as well: Guess who will be back in Binghamton for the SerlingFest next year!

© Wolfgang Koch, 2026

Minister's Message: Salem Heritage Days

Dear friends,

After several weeks away for vacation and study leave, it was such a joy to see many First Church members this past weekend! Saturday, a group of about 20 of us braved the heat to march with the church in the Salem 400 Heritage Days Parade. Then, I had a top-notch pit crew on the beach as a colleague and I competed in the Great Salem Maritime Cardboard Boat Regatta. Our First-Church shaped vessel named “Holy Ship!” stayed afloat through the first heat but met her watery demise in the final “survival of the fittest” race. Sunday, Diane Smith and friends shared our remarkable history with those who gathered for our annual Founders Day service. Thanks to everyone who showed up and made this a weekend to remember! Our rich history and our vibrant, fun-loving, spirit-nurturing, justice-seeking present was truly on display for the greater Salem community. 

August started with a flurry of activity, but the rest of the month will provide opportunities for a slow, thoughtful transition into the new church year. I’m spending time reading, worship planning, goal-setting, and working on curriculum for adult faith formation classes (by the ocean whenever possible!), but have lots of space on my calendar to meet with committees and church members about your hopes for the year ahead. Feel free to book some time!

And we will enjoy a series of spiritual rich, but relaxed summer services in the Cleveland Room, led by a wise and creative group of lay-leaders. I hope you’ll join us on Sundays this month.

  • August 9th: “The Parable of the Sower” with Tiffany Magnolia and Terri Soohoo

  • August 16th: “Blessings for the Earth” with Melody Lee

  • August 23: Claire Donaldson

  • August 30th: Spiritual Wisdom of writer and producer Rod Sterling with Wolfgang Koch

Labor Day weekend (September 6th), I’ll be offering a unique hybrid workshop/worship service titled, “Sacred Texts and Spiritual Practice” where I’ll share my learnings from my summer studying sacred texts. Drawing from Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, and secular traditions, we'll explore different ways for engaging scripture, poetry, and other sacred writings in our spiritual lives.

Then we’ll kick off our new church year with Homecoming and Water Communion on September 13th. Our theme will be “Faith Like a River,” and New England contemporary folk band the Backwards Hats will provide joyful music!

I look forward to connecting with you in the days ahead. May your August be full of slow days, good tomatoes, golden sunshine, and moments of connection.

In faith,

Rev. Danielle 

Heritage Days Parade 2026

Captain Rev. Garrett