Minister's Message: Moral Clarity and Courage

Finding Moral Clarity and Courage in the Face of State Sanctioned Violence

Dear ones, know that I am with you in your grief and your anger in these heavy days. The violent death of Renee Nicole Good at the hands of ICE officers in Minneapolis on Wednesday is a tragedy that leaves many of us at a loss for words. The administration’s false narrative painting Good as a “domestic terrorist” adds an additional Orwellian layer of fear. There is little I can say to assuage the pain so many of us are feeling as we process these events, but I can assure you that you are not alone as you rage and lament. Giving our feelings of grief and anger the time and space they deserve will help ensure our response to this injustice is borne out of a fierce and authentic love.

In my own rage and lament, I have found myself using the word “God” with a capital G more than anytime in recent memory. I have found myself uttering “My God,” praying simply, “God help us” and describing the events as “ungodly.” Most of you know that I ascribe to a theology that is expansive and playful, holding my understanding of God lightly. It is when I am most angry over injustice that I become reflexively theistic. The word is still imprecise, but in using it I see myself reaching for the power it carries in our society—the way it represents humans' feeble attempts to name that which is both utterly transcendent and palpably immanent. I use it when something feels so utterly misaligned with the goodness I believe rests at the heart of the universe, that it simply does not feel like enough to say, “this goes against my values.” 

I find myself reaching for the moral weight of the word to counter doubt, distraction, and gaslighting—to counter the administration’s attempts to convince me I don’t know the difference between good and evil when I see it. I want language that feels eternal, transcending shifting civic norms and reversible Supreme Court decisions. I want language with a moral weight that doesn’t require me to repeatedly watch and analyze a zoomed in, slow motion video of US agents shooting a human being at point blank range, before I decide whether or not that killing is immoral. 

So right now, I am reaching for “God” language. I might not forever. And I don’t expect you to. But I do want us to figure out how to sit with the full spiritual weight of what we’re witnessing. I want us to be able to find our way through the morass of pundits and commentators and facebook posts to reach the very ground of our being—the wellspring of our ethical commitments—and move forward from that place. 

Because this is a moment that demands moral clarity.

I say that in part, because I see the attempts to shift the moral goal posts and obscure the ethical issues at hand. I see the comments on the videos and news stories online saying, “This wouldn’t have happened if she complied with orders,” without any regard for the shock of fear and confusion when masked men are shouting conflicting orders with mere seconds to respond. These comments are also without any analysis of the virtues of those orders to begin with. They reject, on their face, any notion that we live in a society where non-compliance may be a moral imperative. To participate in this debate normalizes and condones ICE’s presence in the neighborhood to begin with. Rather than discussing the morality of ICE kidnapping our immigrant neighbors, we cede that ground to debate the morality of ICE killing those who are trying to prevent them from kidnapping our neighbors. When we start arguing about whether or not she “complied,” we have accepted the notion that the price for non-compliance with an unjust system is death. Legal or not, that’s simply not a moral system I can accept. 

In the days and weeks ahead, there will be opportunities for us to discuss as a community how our faith calls us to show up in this moment. I want to hear from you about how you want to get involved in the ongoing work to defend our immigrant neighbors, push back against fascist ideology, and fight for the values of love and justice we hold dear. But most of all, I want that work to come from a place of authentic spiritual grounding and deeply held ethical commitments. The stakes are too high for anything less.

So rage and lament. Feel your grief and acknowledge your fear. Mourn and honor the life of Renee Good. Do it all in the name of whatever it is you call sacred. And then offer gratitude for this community where, together, we can find the moral clarity and collective courage we need to ground us in this moment. 

I leave you with these words about order, disorder, and faithful noncompliance, written in 1968  by Daniel Berrigan on behalf of the nine people arrested for burning draft files in Catonsville, MD during the Vietnam War. They always bring me strength and courage in times such as these. You can read the full statement here.

“All of us who act against the law, turn to the poor of the world, to the Vietnamese, to the victims, to the soldiers who kill and die, for the wrong reasons, for no reason at all, because they were so ordered—by the authorities of that public order which is in effect a massive institutionalized disorder. We say: killing is disorder, life and gentleness and community and unselfishness is the only order we recognize. For the sake of that order, we risk our liberty, our good name.

In solidarity and love,
Rev. Danielle 

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2026

Minister's Message: The Year of Good Questions

Happy New Year, friends! I’m writing this on the morning of January 1st, having already broken my new year's resolution to reduce my screen time. I have a decidedly mixed track record when it comes to resolutions. Some years I resist the pressure to make them at all. Some years (like this one, apparently) I make one, but don’t even last a day. Other years, I have more success. The one’s I’ve managed to stick with often involve showing appreciation for others rather than attempting to better myself—resolutions like writing more thank you notes or paying for the content I consume by subscribing to favorite newsletters and podcasts.

Resolutions feel especially fraught this year. In the face of injustice, fearmongering, and rising fascist sentiment, it feels important to make firm commitments, take a stand, and live our values with unwavering courage even when it’s difficult. There is so much we need to be resolute about. And yet, certitude and rigidity have not served us well in recent memory. Each year seems more unpredictable, with new challenges that require imagination and flexibility to confront. In the face of increasing authoritarianism, I want to stay curious, soft-hearted, open-minded, resilient, and bendable enough to bounce back. A hard-and-fast commitment to any single behavior feels risky and even short-sighted.

So how then, do we approach the new year?

I am reminded of author and anthropologist Zora Neale Hurston’s famous assertion that “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” If you, like me, are ambivalent towards resolutions right now, perhaps we embrace a “New Year’s Question(s)” instead. This year, let’s find a pointed, but loving question to carry us into 2026. Let’s choose a question we can ask ourselves when we’re feeling lost—not in hopes of finding a definitive answer but rather to gently guide our searching, wandering, and wondering. The question should be more compass than map.

Lutheran Minister and writer Nadia Bolz Weber offers one suggestion in her January 1 newsletter. Citing the mental health costs of spending so much time doom scrolling on social media and 24 hour news sites, she posits, “Perhaps this is the spiritual question for this new year: To what and to whom shall we give our attention?”

New York Times columnist Jancee Dunn talked to a number of psychologists and mental health experts to come up with seven questions to ask yourself as you reflect on the year past and prepare for the year ahead. They include:

  • When did you feel the most joyful and carefree?

  • What gave you energy — and what drained it?

  • What seemed impossible — but you did it anyway?

  • What habit, if you did it more consistently, would have a positive effect on your life?

  • What did you try to control that was actually outside your control?

  • Is there anyone you need to forgive in 2026?

As we continue our conversations around mission and vision as a church, it occurs to me that we could ask these questions in the context of our life together as a congregation. I imagine any of them would generate a fruitful and informative conversation!

But there are so many possibilities. Our UU values might prompt us to ask, “How am I keeping love at the center?” Howard Thurman wrote, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." In Wendell Berry's poem “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer’s Liberation Front,” he advises, “Ask yourself: Will this satisfy a woman satisfied to bear a child? Will this disturb the sleep of a woman near to giving birth?”

I do not know what 2026 will bring for our community and the world, so I can’t promise you I will have all the answers we’ll need. In fact, I can almost guarantee I won’t! But I can promise you that we can learn to ask good questions, and live into those questions together. Whole worlds have been created, revolutions sparked, and loves ignited with a good question. So, we could do worse.

Blessings for 2026. I hope it has moments of joy, growth, ease, and wonder, whatever else it holds. I look forward to spending it with all of you.

In faith and love,
Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2026

Minister's Message: RItuals, Rites of Passage, and Sacred Promises

This Sunday during service, before the eagerly anticipated annual Christmas pageant, Theo and I will have the great joy of leading a child dedication ceremony for two of the youngest members of our community. At Christmas time! In front of the manger set! 

This will be my first child dedication as an ordained minister and it’s a rite of passage I have been looking forward to. I first felt a call to ministry on August 27, 2017. The call was sudden and clear, seeming to come from somewhere deep inside and far beyond at the same time. It was during a Sunday service at All Souls in Washington DC, but it did not happen during a rousing sermon, a moving piece of choral music, or a moment of prayer. It came during a child dedication. It came to me in the midst of a ritual rooted in community, where we recognize our interdependence and promise to help care for one another. It came in the moments the congregation read these words of promise from our hymnal, written by Rev. Rob Eller-Isaacs: “May we be worthy guardians of this young life. May we build a community in which they will grow old surrounded by beauty, embraced by love, and cradled in the arms of peace.”

I get choked up every time I read those words. What a sacred responsibility! What a precious gift! I can not imagine more meaningful work than that. It’s a lifetime’s work. It’s life-giving, life-saving, life-sustaining work. If it’s the only work we commit ourselves to during our time on this earth, it is enough. It’s work I have witnessed you all doing with an uncommon kind of commitment and joy. Truly, I have not been in another church community where the young people were so welcome, respected, cherished, engaged, and loved. It is a beautiful thing to behold.

It feels especially urgent and hopeful to make these promises to our youngest members, but really, as a faith community, this is what we strive to do for one another every day, and for each and every person who walks through our doors, regardless of age. Because, in the words of Ram Dass, “We are all just walking each other home.” I could imagine it as a kind of quiet prayer we whisper each time we step through the threshold into our church building: “May we be worthy guardians of one another.”

For me, this is the power of rituals and rites-of-passage ceremonies in church. They call us back to our deepest values and to our sacred center in a way that a sermon or intellectual discussion usually can’t. Native American botanist, author, and educator Robin Wall Kimmerer writes, “Ceremony can bring the quiescent back to life; it can open your mind and heart to what you once knew but have forgotten.” When we make promises to our children, to our beloved, to our ancestors, to our new church members, or when we witness others make those promises, we are both recommitting ourselves to our life’s sacred purpose and reawakening our souls to an awareness of that purpose. There is a reason many of us cry at weddings and funerals, even of those we don’t know well. 

If there is a moment of transition, commitment, or dedication you would like to mark in your own life, know that this is a community that makes space for that. I hope you’ll reach out if you’re considering a child dedication, wedding, vow renewal, name change ceremony, etc. I hope you will all join us in the meeting house or on zoom Sunday to witness and participate in our child dedication ceremony. And I hope in making these promises to our young people, it will give you a chance to reflect on the promises we make to one another. May we be worthy guardians indeed.

In faith,
Rev. Danielle 

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2025

Minister's Message: Celebrating Hanukkah...

Celebrating Hanukkah and Honoring our Religious Diversity

This Sunday night is the first night of Hanukkah. Last year, the first night of Hanukkah fell on Christmas Eve and I celebrated with our interfaith extended family. We fried latkes and lit the Menorah and I practiced my Hebrew pronunciation with my 4 year old niece. Then we opened presents and checked the NORAD Santa tracker and I marveled at the joy and ease with which these children embraced both of their religious traditions. I wondered how they will make them their own as they grow and their own faith and spirituality changes and evolves. I was also serving in a congregation with Jewish UU minister, and through participating in Jewish rituals with her, I learned more about the ways our Unitarian Universalist faith is enhanced when we engage with the other identities and religious traditions we bring into the space.

This year I won’t be with my Jewish family members, teachers and friends on Hanukkah. And I confess to a certain amount of discomfort lighting a Menorah, which is meant to be lit after dark, on a sunny Sunday morning in church. Afterall, the contrast between the light and the darkness is the whole point of the tradition. Embracing the religious pluralism of Unitarian Universalism isn’t just about checking a certain number of boxes. It’s about honoring that there are many paths to the sacred, learning from them, and engaging with them honestly, respectfully and deeply—not just on a surface level. It’s also about realizing we can find meaning in a spiritual path and also recognize it isn’t ours to follow. So as a non-Jewish UU, I’ve been thinking about how I will mark the holiday this year.

I’ll take some time to reflect on the miracles I’ve experienced in my own life, to honor acts of resistance by those living under oppression, and to remember our shared calling to keep the flames of hope, love, and justice burning. I’ll send Hanukkah wishes to those I love. I’ll tell my nieces how much it meant to me to celebrate with them last year and check in on how our Hebrew pronunciation is progressing.

And I’ll continue to celebrate the blessings of our religiously plural tradition—the ways my own faith and spirituality are enhanced when I’m in community and conversation with beloveds from other traditions, including Judaism. I’m currently reading A Child is Born, a new advent study from Dr. Amy Jill Levine, my professor in Divinity School. Levine is a Jewish woman whose work places the New Testament stories, including the nativity story, in their Jewish context. The stories are made even richer, more meaningful, and more fun and interesting to study as a result. Her work is another example of how interfaith engagement continues to deepen my own religious life.

If you celebrate Hanukkah or will be spending time with family and friends who celebrate this December, I hope the festival of lights holds joys, blessings, and lessons for you this year. I leave you with this Hanukkah Prayer by Marla Baker.

In faith
Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2025

Minister's Message: 400 Years of History, 15 Minutes of Fame...

400 Years of History, 15 Minutes of Fame, and a Vision to Carry Us Into the Future

In case you missed it, CNN reporter Donie O’Sullivan visited Salem back in September. I spoke with him for his new CNN series “Devoted,” which explores how people are searching for meaning, ritual, and belonging, amidst America’s changing religious landscape. You can watch the episode here, but you’ll either need to subscribe or log-in with your cable provider. He was also recently on reporter Audie Cornish’s podcast to discuss religion in America today and briefly mentioned First Church. 

There is growing media interest in the role religion plays in our modern social and political life. While the number of those who identify as traditionally “religious” has decreased consistently in recent decades, it seems to have plateaued recently. And those declining numbers never told the full story of what was happening to begin with. Young men are flocking to orthodox and conservative religious communities in increasing numbers. Women and LGBTQ+ folks are seeking out more affirming spaces, including pagan traditions that honor our connection with the earth and the power within each of us. People are finding ritual and spiritual practice through yoga, mindfulness, and wellness culture. And there is increasing interest and concern over the role AI and technology will play in our spiritual life. Podcaster Jo Rogan even wondered if the second coming of Christ might be through Artificial Intelligence, another form of immaculate conception (an idea, it should go without saying, that I do not endorse). The point is, there is a major shift happening in our country’s religious life and people are starting to notice. 

It’s not an accident that this church has become part of this larger conversation. We represent almost 400 years of changing religious life in America! The crew from CNN was particularly interested in how we’ve evolved from being one of the churches involved in the witch trials to a community that welcomes both Christians and Pagans (and lots of others!) and is led by a LGBTQ+ identified woman. More than most religious communities in America, we offer a glimpse into what religion has been in our country’s history, what it looks like now, and what it could become. 

Which is to say, it is an exciting and important time to be a part of this community! And you all get to decide what role this community will continue to play in the unfolding story of religion and spirituality in America. How will we use our gifts, learn from and honor our history, and harness the unique spirit of this place to carry us into the future? What is the role not just of churches, and not just of UU churches, but of this particular church in the times in which we live? When I think about what sets this church apart from others I’ve been in, my mind goes to your welcoming spirit and knack for hospitality, your love of history and keen interest in the lessons it holds for us today, and your deep wellspring of creativity and appreciation for the role art, theatre, architecture, music, and even humour play in human flourishing. I can imagine so many ways we can harness these unique gifts in service of creating a more just and loving world. I’m sure you all have your own answers.

These questions are what we will begin answering through our mission and vision development. Building off of the work done by the transition team, we will come together this church year to craft and vote on mission and vision statements that will help steer our course for the future. And we need everyone’s involvement. Your first opportunity will be after service on Dec. 14th when Jerrie H. will lead us in a mission and vision workshop. There will also be an opportunity on zoom on December 30th and another in-person session after service on January 11th. I hope to see you at one of these important, inspiring, and imaginative conversations!

In faith,
Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2025

Minister's Message: The Season of Magic and Miracles

Welcome to the Season of Magic and Miracles

Friends, we are now officially in the winter holiday season. Advent begins this Sunday, Hanukkah begins in two weeks, and we are entering the longest nights of the year as we approach yule and the winter solstice later this month. These are days of storytelling and star gazing—days for lighting candles and preparing our hearts to receive the sacred wisdom of this season. These are days for embracing mystery, but that’s sometimes easier said than done. 

Recently, I decided to get in the holiday spirit by watching “A Christmas Carol.” I’ve heard the story countless times, but somehow the particular economic circumstances of the Cratchit family had never occurred to me. Clearly the family struggled financially, but Bob Cratchit must have some education to be able to manage Scrooge’s correspondences. What exactly did it mean to be a “clerk” in Victorian London anyway? Was it more like a secretary or an accountant? Was it that Scrooge paid significantly less than other businessmen who hired clerks? Or was 15 shillings a decent salary but with 4 kids, one of whom had significant complex health challenges, it wasn’t enough for the Cratchit’s particular circumstances. 

So now rather than watching the movie, I was furiously googling articles about the economy of Victorian London. Ultimately, a Christmas Carol is an allegory and a morality tale. It’s a ghost story for goodness sakes, with spirits who facilitate time travel! As much as Dickens was concerned with the plight of London’s poor, the exact and accurate mechanics of the Victorian economy is not what makes the story so enduring. “I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year,” reads the famous line from the original text. Although I got distracted during this watch, I’ve read the story enough times to know that the lessons it holds are not about the history of clerks in London. 

It’s hard to remember a time when I didn’t have access to all of human knowledge in my pocket. When I would have a fleeting question or wondering and would just…wonder about it, then let it go. I think our recent ability to know everything immediately has somehow rewired our brains. We don’t have to experience not knowing little things anymore, so it makes those times when we don’t know big things especially anxiety producing. Who will win the midterm elections? How will we preserve democracy? How will we manage the climate crisis? Why are we here and what does it all mean? We lost the equivalent of practice tests or training runs for the very human experience of not knowing something.

The era we live in is called the information age for a reason. We worship at the altar of information, provided at lightning speeds. We stream events as they’re happening. We ingest this information like a sacrament. In this era, not knowing is increasingly unfamiliar and thus, increasingly uncomfortable. So, we try to get as much information as possible, even if it isn’t always helpful or true. We rush to answers, to explanations and certainties. But in the process, we lose our capacity to wonder and imagine. We forget that revelation isn’t closed and that we haven’t found all of the answers we need. 

I’ve heard some people express dismay at the idea of celebrating the winter holidays too joyfully during a time of economic and political uncertainty. We face serious problems, they say, and now is not the time for flying reindeers, twinkling lights, and fantastical stories. But I think we need to lean into our holiday tradition now more than ever.  Not as a form of escapism but as a way of keeping our hearts open to new possibilities. 

So friends, this December, give yourself over to the mysteries and miracles of this season. Just live in them. Don’t try to explain them. Don’t spend too much time googling their historical origin. 

Tell ghost stories that encourage us to be more giving and more joyful. Do not worry too much about if this ghost story is compatible with your theological beliefs about the afterlife. Believe the oil burned for eight days and in doing so, remember there is always time enough to preserve what is sacred. Believe that God incarnate came into the world by way of a young, unwed Palestinian girl and for the purpose of toppling empires. 

When we let ourselves believe these stories, even if just for a season or a night, our hearts and minds are opened to the idea that another world is possible—to the idea that there are ways forward we don’t know about, that something new can be born at any moment, and that our capacity for love and hope and justice isn’t at its limit. And In that opening of our hearts and minds, we make space for something new to be born in us. 

So during this season of magic and miracles, long-nights and twinkling light, let’s just let the mystery be. 

Happy Holidays, 

Rev. Danielle 

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2025

Minister's Message: Caring for Our Community Amidst Cruelty and Crisis

“If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?” - James 2: 15-16

Friends, a cornerstone of my own faith is that everyone—literally everyone—is deserving of food, shelter, healthcare and community. I do not believe there are any circumstances under which it is just or moral to deny these basic human needs. And I believe that when we are able, it is our calling, as people of faith and members of the interdependent web of life, to help provide these necessities. Sure, I love book clubs that help educate us about social issues and I think it’s important that we work towards broader changes to eradicate system injustice. But I think there is something deeply holy about providing for one another’s immediate, tangible, bodily needs. I believe Jesus meant for us to take his assertion in Matthew chapter 5,  “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat” literally.

Starting on November 1, SNAP benefits will be abruptly cut off, leaving many in our community without access to affordable food to feed their families. Over 83,000 households in Essex County rely on SNAP. This is not an inevitably, but rather a policy choice and an exceptionally cruel one. As Unitarian Universalists, who believe in the inherent dignity of each person, we are called to respond in this moment. So many of you are already giving, organizing, and sharing resources with your friends and family. Many of you have also asked how our congregation can care for our community during this time of need. I have been in touch with area organizations, including staff at the Salem Pantry, to let them know our church stands at the ready to serve our community in the coming days and weeks. Here are some of the most immediate ways we can help:

  • Contribute money at church: Cash donations are the most effective ways to support food pantries. With cash donations, food pantries can save time and money by buying in bulk and focusing on the items people need the most. To support these efforts, over the next two months we will be sharing 50% of our Sunday morning plate collection with area organizations. For the month of November, we will give half of our plate collection to the Salem Pantry. In December, we will contribute to LifeBridge. 

  • Donate non-perishable food items: While money is most effective, food donations are always welcome. This is a great option for children and youth, as the exercise of shopping for, pricing, and donating physical items helps kids learn about food insecurity and feel more tangibly connected to their giving. Our Religious Education staff and volunteers are organizing a food drive for the month of November. You are invited to donate non-perishable food items at church on Sunday mornings or at our Nov. 16th Potluck. 

  • Volunteer: As food pantries anticipate an increase in donations to process and guests to serve, they also anticipate needing more volunteers. The Salem Pantry is eager to welcome volunteers from First Church and plans to open up new volunteer spots at their market and warehouse in the coming days. You can sign up to volunteer here

  • Education and Advocacy: The most immediate action from food security advocates is a call for the USDA to release contingency funds that could help keep SNAP benefits going as the government shutdown continues. The Massachusetts based Project Bread has a letter you can fill out here. And the national Food Research and Action Council (FRAC) has a social media kit on their homepage if you’d like to use your channels to share information with family, friends and followers. 

  • Spiritual Grounding: While the crisis is immediate, the work to build a more equitable economic system where no one goes hungry is long-term work. We are more likely to stay committed for the long-haul if we have practices that renew us and spiritual grounding that reminds us why we are working for a more just and loving world. Maybe you’d like to spend some quiet time each morning meditating on our Unitarian Universalist values and discerning how you are called to live into them. Maybe you make time to engage with sacred scripture through a justice lense. Or perhaps you join us in reading and discussing our UU Common Read, Social Change Now: A Guide for Reflection and Connection by Deepa Iyer (see Theo’s message for more details!). Whatever you choose, don’t neglect the spiritual and theological dimensions of this important work.

I welcome your additional ideas for how First Church can show up to meet this moment and care for our community. And if you find yourself struggling financially, emotionally, or spiritually during these difficult days, please do not hesitate to reach out and set up an appointment with me.

Thank you for your care and courage.

In faith,

Rev. Danielle

Source: caring2025-10-29