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

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

Minister's Message: Everything is Holy Now

When I lead a pilgrimage trip, as I did earlier this month with the congregation from the Unitarian church in Annapolis, MD, there is an arc to our spiritual journey. On our first day of walking, as we enter the liminal space of the pilgrim, I invite participants to pick up a small stone to carry with them. Mid-week, I invite them to lay the stone down as a representation of something they want to let go of on the trip. Then, I ask them not to rush to fill the space. Rather, I invite them to enjoy walking the rest of this road a little lighter, with more space in their hearts and spirits to receive the gifts and lessons that are theirs to carry homeward. Then, on our last evening together, we share those gifts and lessons.

Rev. John Crestwell, the senior minister of Annapolis church who was journeying with his congregation, shared his answer in song. He played Peter Meyer’s “Holy Now” for the group. The lyrics include:

This morning outside I stood
I saw a little red-winged bird
Shining like a burning bush
And singing like a scripture verse

It made me want to bow my head
I remember when church let out
How things have changed since then
Everything is holy now

It used to be a world half there
Heaven's second rate hand-me-down
But I walk it with a reverent air
'Cause everything is holy now

When I talk to people who have left behind the religious traditions of their childhood, there is often a sense of relief and freedom, but also often deep grief. There is a sense of loss for the miracles and visions of heaven that had once been a comfort. But one of the great gifts of our UU faith is how, over time, it can help us see the miracles that are all around us in this present moment. Our expansive theology, appreciation for curiosity, and reverence for the earth and all who inhabit it, help us to see how everything is holy. Unitarian ancestor Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “Heaven walks among us ordinarily muffled in such triple or tenfold disguises that the wisest are deceived and no one suspects the days to be gods.”

After that last pilgrim gathering, I took time by myself to walk around the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, listening to the Peter Meyer song. It felt magical. Everything I saw—the sparrows, seals, and roe deer, the sunset peaking through the rain clouds, the receding tide, the fellow pilgrims walking with reverence—felt imbued with the holy.

That feeling lasted as I made my way back to Edinburgh to fly home. I peaked inside an Episcopal church while I was there to see the stained glass, and felt myself moved by the children’s corner in the back of the sanctuary. The books and crafts and advertisement for midweek children’s worship told me on Sundays this was a place that welcomed families and that viewed people of all ages as sacred.

That is what I’m bringing home with me from my pilgrimage: a renewed vision of the holy all around me, not least of all, here at church. I am noticing the holy in the creative artistry of our stained class, the playfulness and precociousness of our children, the love and care in a homemade treat placed on the fellowship table on a Sunday morning, the care when a member of community is in need, the tender prayer requests, the eager Sunday morning announcements, and even the curiosity of tourists poking their heads through our front doors.

Our community is so full of ordinary miracles when we make space to notice them. That’s the spirit with which I’m approaching the end of this church year. I hope to see you Sunday for RE Sunday and our End of Year Picnic. What a blessing to be able to journey through this beautiful bewildering world together.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle

Minister's Message: Sign Up to Be a Tour Volunteer!

Recently, a local colleague stopped by church to pick up something from me and say a quick hello. Theo and I were chatting in my office when she got here with her toddler son in tow and we were happy to welcome them in and show them around. As a preacher’s kid, the three year old is no stranger to sanctuaries, but ours had a few things going for it that afternoon: 1. A facade that looks like, “a big castle,” 2. A fun RE director with no other kids around competing for her attention, and most importantly, 3. Stray, candy-filled Easter Eggs that remained leftover from our rained-out indoor egg hunt. Needless to say, First Church quickly became a favorite Salem landmark. 

I know that the storied history of this beloved congregation played no part in the toddler’s delight at being able to run around an empty sanctuary looking for candy. But I still left that day feeling full of warmth, joy, and pride after getting to show the place off a bit. It was special to welcome in people that I care about, share a little history with my friend and colleague, and get to experience the building as a central gathering place for our Salem community in a different way than I do on Sunday mornings. 

I don’t think I’ll ever tire of welcoming in new people, watching their faces as they take in the beauty of the stained glass, and inviting them to feel the powerful stories that live in the bones of this place. It always feels like a great gift to share our space with others.

That’s one reason why I’ve signed up for some First Church tour volunteer shifts this summer and fall. Of course I’m happy to support this important fundraising effort for the church, but I wouldn’t do it if money was the only motivating factor. It is truly great FUN and spiritually meaningful to meet new people, share our history with visitors, and learn from and laugh with the other First Church volunteers. Volunteering a few times last summer helped me feel a real sense of community and grounding in my new home here in Salem. If you’re looking for a way to feel a deeper sense of connection to this place, I can’t recommend it enough. 

All you really need to be qualified to volunteer is time and willingness (although an open-heart and sense of humor doesn’t hurt), but I know so many of you have even more gifts to offer; a welcoming presence, a love of history, a knack for hospitality, a deep well of knowledge about Salem and First Church, good conversational skills, curiosity about people you meet, fabulous costumes you don’t get to wear often enough, or undiscovered carnival barker skills. The tours are already wonderful, but think of how much more wonderful they could be if you brought all of those gifts to the table!

So are you convinced? Good! Then go sign up here!  Tours are weekends in August, September, and October. No experience or training is necessary. Contact Alicia Diozzi with questions. Thanks to everyone who has already signed up and the dedicated volunteers working hard to ensure we have another successful tour year.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle 

First Church Tours - Webpage (public-facing)

First Church Tours - Volunteer Sign-up Genius

Minister's Message: Happy May Day!

Happy May Day everyone!

This Sunday, we will gather together to mark Beltane, a holiday rooted in ancient Gaelic and Celtic traditions that celebrate renewal, abundance, and the coming of summer. It is one of the eight festivals on the Wheel of The Year, observed by modern Pagans who look to the earth’s seasons and cycles for meaning and ritual. Sunday will be a joyful celebration of community—full of music, flowers, reflections, poetry and dancing.

May 1st is also International Workers Day, another day rooted in the solidarity of community and the hope for an abundant life for all. It is a day that honors the efforts of the labor movement and celebrates workers around the world. May 1st was chosen to commemorate the beginning of the 1886 general strike for an eight-hour work day (which led to the pivotal Haymarket affair in Chicago).

We don’t talk about work in church very often. Many of us see Sunday as a day for rest, community, and contemplation where we can leave our work concerns behind at the office. In reality though, our understanding of labor is deeply tied to our religious values. The very existence of a day for rest is tied to both religious practices and the advocacy of the labor movement! Just as there are well-developed theologies of rest (as I explained last week), there are also theologies of labor. Our faith tradition calls us to engage with matters of economic justice and fair labor practices.

As Unitarian Universalists, we hold a set of shared values, including equity, generosity, and interdependence. The language associated with equity reads, “we declare that every person is inherently worthy and has the right to flourish with dignity, love, and compassion.” This calls us to work for economic policies where all labor is dignified and paid fairly, and where all people have a chance to flourish. We also proclaim respect for the interdependent web of all existence. This value calls us to name the ways that greed and love-of-profit lead to working conditions that harm both our fellow humans and the planet we inhabit. These are just a few of the reasons why the Unitarian Universalist Association is a partner of May Day Strong, a campaign of worker solidarity calling on our leaders to center the needs of the working class rather than the needs of the wealthiest few. 

And we are not alone. Many faith traditions have long been engaged in the struggle for economic justice and workers’ rights. In the Catholic Church, May 1st is the Feast Day of St. Joseph the Worker. It is also the anniversary of the founding of the Catholic Worker Movement, the newspaper and network of communities founded by Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin in 1933 focused on care for the poor and the rights of workers. Dorothy Day wrote, "By fighting for better conditions, by crying out unceasingly for the rights of the workers, the poor, of the destitute... we can, to a certain extent, change the world."

Modern practitioners of engaged Buddhism interpret the Buddhist precept, “Do not steal,” to have broader connotations, related to economic systems and social conditions. Mushim Ikeda-Nash, of the Buddhist Peace Fellowship’s International Advisory Council, writes, “we may not be robbing banks, or breaking and entering other people’s homes, but are we supporting exploitation of workers through the clothing, shoes, and food we buy?” Thich Nhat Hanh interprets the precept this way, “Aware of the suffering caused by exploitation, social injustice, stealing, and oppression, I vow to cultivate loving kindness and learn ways to work for the well-being of people, animals, plants, and minerals.”

And Jewish traditions often tie their commitments to workers’ rights to the Exodus story. This narrative from the Hebrew Bible, recounting how God helped the Israelites escape slavery in Egypt, shows God rejecting systems that exploit labor and choosing to side with the poor and oppressed in their struggles for liberation.

So this May Day, in addition to joining us for our Beltane service, I invite you to live out your faith by finding one small way to promote workers rights and economic justice. Maybe it’s participating in a UU Side with Love action, learning more about the intersection between faith and labor, advocating for a more equitable policy at your workplace, or trying out a sabbath practice that reminds you our worth isn’t tied to our productivity. This weekend, may you find moments of community, solidarity, and abundance.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle

Minister's Message: Rest for our Souls

It’s hard to believe that we are approaching the end of the church year! As I begin planning for spring rituals and preparing reports ahead of our annual meeting, I find myself reflecting on how hard you all have been working. I arrived on the heels of three busy years of interim work and yet you did not hesitate to hit the ground running with me. The activities you have engaged in with thoughtfulness and commitment are numerous—from the new Right Relations team and Committee on Ministry, to a wildly successful stewardship drive, a lay-lead revival of our social justice activities and an engaged mission and vision process. Meanwhile, you kept important day-to-day church functions, like our beloved fellowship hour and pastoral care team, going strong. This is good and vital work you all have been doing. I am proud, grateful, and blessed.

I am also compelled to remind you that rest and play are holy! Yes, it takes work to keep church running, but I think we are also called to make church a place that values respite, creativity, delight and imagination. In fact, I think this is a unique and especially sacred calling for a church community. In a world that values productivity, urgency, and profit, we can provide a different kind of space—one that recognizes the inherent worth and dignity of each person beyond any utilitarian purpose. We can make space to marvel at the mystery and miracle of our existence and assert that meaning is found beyond what can be measured or accomplished.

And it’s not just me saying that! There are well-developed theologies that point us towards rest and play as divine callings. The practice of keeping the Sabbath is the most obvious. God rested and invites us to rest too. In his excellent book, Sabbath as Resistance: Saying No to a Culture of Now, theologian Walter Bruggemann writes, “The Sabbath rest of God is the acknowledgment that God and God’s people in the world are not commodities to be dispatched for endless production.” Bruggeman ties Sabbath practices not only to love of God and care of self, but also to love of neighbor. He asserts that the Sabbath invites us to refrain from demanding labor from those around us and rather make space for deep and relational connection.

In the movie Bull Durham, Susan Sarandon’s character Annie Savoy famously says, “I believe in the church of baseball.” While we might not all treat our hobbies with this level of religious fervor, an appreciation for play is an idea with deep spiritual roots. Jewish and Christian thinkers point to God’s delight in the act of creation as evidence that time spent in play and creativity are divine. Christian theologians turn to the stories of Jesus’s friendships, playful storytelling, love of dinner parties, and willingness to turn water into wine to develop their theology of play. Hinduism has the concept of “Lila,” which asserts creation is an outcome of divine playfulness. Theologian Brian Edgar goes so far as to write that, “play is the essential and ultimate form of relationship with God.” Embracing fun, pleasure, and play is one way of honoring the divine spark within each of us and recognizing we are made in the image of a loving, resting, playful creator.

Rest and play are central to our identities as humans and children of God. They are our birthright and we do not need to do anything to earn them. But if we did, I promise that you have. So, I hope this spring, you will make time to engage in rest and play. I also hope that you will see First Church as a place where you are invited into these holy activities. Together we can make space for ease, quiet, laughter, imagination, creativity, connection, joy, and even a little mischief.

One of the scripture verses above our pulpit is from Matthew 11: 28-30 and reads “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” May ours be a sanctuary, where all who are weary can find rest for their souls.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle

Minister's Message: We Who Look To the Stars

I’m not really a “space person.” I don’t own a telescope or have the Sky Guide app on my phone. I didn’t dream about being an Astronaut as a kid. Sure, I count The Sparrow, Mary Doria Russell’s novel about a Jesuit-led mission to make contact with life on another planet, as one of my very favorite books, but that has more to do with the theological themes than the space travel plot. So I have been surprised to find myself so moved by the Artemis II mission. I cried watching the launch and have been crying a little every day since. I cried when mission Commander Reid Wiseman said, “We have a beautiful moonrise. We’re headed right at it,” and when the astronauts asked to name a newly discovered crater on the moon after the commander’s late wife, and when they reestablished communications with NASA after travelling behind the moon and asserted, “we will always choose earth.”

In a world where recent news of technological advancement has centered on Artificial Intelligence, it is profoundly moving to witness the very present humanity of this feat of science and engineering. These astronauts are not merely sending back data and synthesizing observations. They are bearing witness. They are communicating using the language of science yes, but also of religion and of poetry. They are sharing joy and grief. They are even having plumbing issues (can you think of anything more human)! They are connecting this mission to those who came before them, including female pioneers and civil rights leaders. And they are clear that they want their legacy to be not this mission itself, but the exploration that comes after.

It is all so deeply human while still being utterly extraordinary. That paradox reminds me of one of the most defining features of our humanity—the capacity to and for wonder. We are people of boundless curiosity who experience the great and mystical gift of awe. Twentieth century Rabbi and Jewish philosopher Abraham Joshua Heschel’s says that “Knowledge is fostered by curiosity; wisdom is fostered by awe…awe is the root of faith”

I am grateful for the ways in which we are increasing in knowledge, wisdom, and faith as a result of Artemis II’s journey. I wish them Godspeed on their return to earth.

In honor of our human capacity to and for wonder, here is a poem by Ada Limon.

In Praise of Mystery: A Poem for Europa

In faith and with wonder,

Rev. Danielle