Minister's Message: Organized Belonging

Two weeks ago, I preached about the ways authoritarian regimes derive power from our loneliness, isolation, and fear of one another (if you missed it, you can read a transcript here). Because of that, showing up here to gather in community is a counter-cultural act of resistance. I joked that perhaps we should affix the famous words from folk singer Woody Guthrie’s guitar, “This machine kills fascists,” to the coffee carafes at fellowship hour. On a more serious note, I cited the work of political philosopher, Hannah Arendt, who in the wake of the Holocaust in Nazi Germany, devoted her life to studying the nature of evil and power. Arendt concluded that totalitarianism was “organized loneliness.” I said if that was the case, it was time for us to get serious about organized belonging. And I meant it. So I have two requests this week:

1. Lean into the organized part:
It takes work to sustain this congregation as a site of belonging, connection, spiritual nourishment, and holy resistance. Yes, that means dedicating time and energy to our social justice efforts as a church, but it also goes beyond that. A church community that rejects a culture of isolation and division requires many skills and gifts. We need people who will volunteer for the pastoral care team, teach our children, host game nights, help us keep track of finances, and help us learn how to navigate conflict so we can hold differences without fracture (this work is often referred to as “right relations” in UU jargon). Each of you has a role to play in this work, whether you can commit to weekly meetings or to showing up once a year for a volunteer event. This year we will be embarking on some important endeavors. We will begin articulating our mission and vision and building out a right relations team. I’ll be sharing more details about these efforts in the coming weeks. There is no better time to get involved. You don’t even have to know how you want to contribute yet. If you’re feeling called to get more engaged at church, in small or large (or different) ways, reach out (dgarrett@firstchurchinsalem.org) and let’s talk.


2. Enjoy the belonging part:
There is a lot of good work to do, but church isn’t all work. This is a place to rest, play, pray, learn, cry, question, contemplate, find joy and cultivate friendship. Don’t ever feel guilty about doing those things. You all have worked so hard over these past three years to move this congregation to a place of greater health and financial sustainability. It was difficult and slow work, but you committed to it. You kept showing up even when church wasn’t always a fun place to be. The work isn’t done but you have so much to be proud of. So take a deep breath. You deserve to enjoy this place and each other. And there is so very much to enjoy. Behind your self-deprecating statements about being reserved New Englanders, you are funny, warm, welcoming, creative, talented, and smart in a million different ways. I see the ways you greet newcomers, take joy in our children and youth, engage in our wider community, and cultivate a wicked sense of humor. I am constantly delighted to spend time with you! Truly! And I want you to be delighted to spend time with one another. If what you need to do this church year is just remember how to love church and enjoy one another’s company, that’s more than enough. 


It is such a joy to be your minister. We live in difficult times, but I have so much hope that we have what we need, here in this beloved community, to navigate them together.

In faith,

Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2025

Minister's Message: Our Unexpected Theological Teachers

This week, I’ve been thinking a lot about our unexpected spiritual teachers—the people, places and texts outside of sacred scripture and church teachings where we find deep theological wisdom. One reason this has been on my mind is the wonderful “Thirsty Thursday Theology” discussion many of us shared last night, where we explored the ways ghost stories and horror movies help us understand our relationships with one another and our ancestors, wrestle with grief, process death, and contemplate good and evil and the vast grey areas in between.

The other reason it’s been on my mind is a recent conversation between journalist Nicole Wallace and actor, activist, and devoted Catholic Martin Sheen. The whole podcast is worth a listen. He even mentions Unitarian minister James Reeb! But I was especially moved by this statement, “If we’re lucky enough to surrender and accept the responsibility that we start as a nothing basically, except our humanity, and then we realize, oh, my God, being human is all we need. We’re broken. It’s beautiful brokenness, because if you weren’t broken, nothing could get in to change you. Whether you believe in one, the other God, it doesn’t matter. The spirit cannot get in you unless there’s an entrance point.”

Sheen was an early hero of mine. I was 13 when The West Wing premiered and I was convinced that my calling in life was to become the White House Press Secretary. I already had a bleeding heart and the idealistic depiction of a group of people working for a common purpose and a President who led from a place of deep goodness struck a chord. I did eventually move to DC and spent a fulfilling decade working in public policy, but that was not my calling as it turns out. So, I left my West Wing watching days aside as I turned towards ministry and theology. Listening to this podcast, I realized that Martin Sheen was one of my earliest theological teachers. His commitment to non-violent resistance and his deep faith, both of which he speaks about often and publicly, influenced me before church-going was a part of my own life. As surprising as it sounded, it was Martin Sheen who introduced me to faithful activists and pacifists like Dorothy Day and Dan Berrigan and helped me realize that for many people, there was a deep connection between their religious faith and their commitment to justice. It was moving to listen to the podcast and realize that my teen years hero had impacted my adult faith formation and vocation in unexpectedly deep ways. 

Both of these experiences gave me quite a bit of hope and served as an important reminder about staying attuned to the wisdom all around us. We live in times that call for robust moral imagination. I don’t know the way out of the fear, isolation, and injustice we’re experiencing as a society. I don’t know how to solve the climate crisis, end systemic racism, or bring peace to the Middle East. I’m not sure if anyone does. And our beautiful little community here faces its own set of exciting but complex challenges as we discern how this church can grow and thrive in an increasingly changing religious landscape. We need all the wisdom and creativity we can get, so I want to stay as open as I can to all of the possible sources from which that wisdom and creativity might spring, whether it’s a 19th century gothic novel, a classic horror film, a fictional president, or a deeply faithful actor. This is no time to close ourselves off from sources of moral courage and spiritual insight just because those sources might not look like we expect. One way we can support each other in our collective work for justice and our individual search for meaning is by sharing that deep wisdom when we come across it, and inviting others into our own sites and practices of spiritual renewal.

So this week I have a request. I’d love for you to tell me about your “Martin Sheen.” Who are the unexpected theological teachers and surprising sources of spiritual wisdom in your own life? Where do you reach for inspiration when the “theology” shelf at the book store isn’t giving you what you need? And I mean this literally. This isn’t a question just to ponder on your heart this week. Send me your answers! E-mail me a few sentences about your favorite sources of sacred wisdom. I’ll compile them to share in a future column, so we can share in the wealth. It will help us get to know one another more deeply and it will provide new sources of inspiration when our wells are running dry. I look forward to hearing your own stories.

In faith,

Rev. Danielle 

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2025

Minister's Message: Rooted Firmly in Place

One of my favorite religion writers, Liz Bucar has a new Newsletter. If you’re interested in the intersections of religion, politics, and society, it’s well worth subscribing. One of her recent articles included a subheader that totally bowled me over: “You can’t meditate your way out of fascism.” Now I’m a huge proponent of regular spiritual practices. I preach often about filling our own cups and ensuring the well doesn’t run dry. I even talk about the importance of these practices to our social justice work. But I’m also, decidedly, not a fan of fascism, so I read on with attention. Bucar offered some observations that are crucial for spiritual leaders and people of faith to take note of at this moment in history.

She was critiquing journalist Ezra Klein’s discussion of his own meditation practice in an interview with author Ta-Nehisi Coates. Coates says that as a Black American, he’s always understood that “preaching love can get you shot,” citing MLK as an example. Klein responds to this painful truth of systemic suffering with a meditation from his individual practice that brings him comfort. Bucar says of Klein, “When confronted with a moment that demands moral and political clairty…he retreats into his practice. Not to deepen his commitment to collective struggle, but to find personal equilibrium. The meditation becomes a way to process overwhelming information internally rather than a practice that connects him to social obligation and action.” For Bucar, this represents one example of a larger problem known as “spiritual bypassing,” or using spiritual practices as a way to “avoid dealing with what’s actually happening” rather than to “transform ourselves or engage with reality.” 

Bucar’s piece is not a criticism of meditation or spiritual practices in general, but a criticism of the American propensity to remove these practices from their origins, contexts, and associated religious ethics, and package them into something easily consumed. To sell them as a tool to soothe and distract, no different from lavender bath salts or fancy chamomile teas. Bucar contrasts this with the “three-legged stool” of Theravada Buddhism that situates meditation and mindfulness practices alongside social engagement and ethics. The three can’t be separated. Bucar writes, “practices extracted from their religious contexts become tools for individual comfort rather than collective transformation.”

Dear ones, we are living in truly disturbing times. Fascism is at our door step. It is hard to overstate how horrifying it is to watch the President declare American cities “war zones,” as a way to justify mobilizing the U.S. military against its own citizens. This is only the latest in a long string of threats to freedom, democracy, human rights and human dignity. We are in a moment that demands moral clarity and spiritual courage. I keep looking at the picture of the Presbyterian minister in Chicago who was pepper-sprayed directly in the face for living into the call of his faith. I see videos of clergy and congregants there chanting at ICE agents, “‘Love your neighbor, love your God, save your soul and quit your job.” I know we too are called to live out our own faith in visible, tangible ways. There is no time for spiritual bypassing. 

This doesn’t mean we can’t make time for comfort, stillness, replenishment and joy. We have to make time for those things if we’re going to survive and flourish. But those things need to happen in a broader context that sees them as part of the work of love and justice rather than ways to avoid doing that work or to avoid confronting the realities that necessitate that work.

So our job now is to get really clear about all of the legs that hold up our own stool, as individuals and as a church community, and understand how they work together to support a full-hearted faith. We need to get acquainted with the unshakable truths that live in the depths of our soul—the truths that we feel in our bones and will keep us rooted firmly in place even when we’re confronted with the destructive weapons of empire. It could be a belief in a God of liberation, Jesus’s calling to “take up your cross and follow me,” the inherent worth of each human life, the radical interdependence of all creation, or the fundamental human calling to “tikkun olam” or healing the world. And yes, we need to know what practices sustain us, but we also must ask,”sustain us to do what?” Are those practices helping us to look squarely at the truth? Are they helping us confront our neighbors' pain and suffering or are they numbing us to those realities? We need a faith deep and resilient enough to help us meet this moment and that’s going to require us asking some hard questions of ourselves. This work is urgent, life-giving and life-saving, and impossible to do alone. Thank God then, that we have each other.

In these coming days, may we come together with courage and hope to practice a faith worthy of the times in which we live and the values we claim to profess. I’ll be here alongside you in the work. 

In love,

Danielle 

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2025

In Our Community: Star Island Reflections

Members of First Church returned for a group visit to Star Island!

August 23, 2025…
We arrived in carpools and on our own, to catch the 9:20 am Challenger ferry from Portsmouth harbor, out to the Isles of Shoals.  It was an exciting ride with large swells!  

On Island, we were greeted by staff and given a “place for our stuff.”  We began our visit with some time in the chapel, with grounding words from our brand-new minister Rev. Danielle, and a round of Spirit of Life led by Wolfgang.  We then spread out to tour the island, sit in rocking chairs, paint seascapes and write in journals.  Some of us brought picnic lunches from home, others ordered from the Gosport Grill, a little pop up cafe offering burgers and lobster rolls near the dock.  

Some of us had time for a walk in the labyrinth before boarding the Thomas Leighton for the 2:00 pm return to Portsmouth.  

Rev. Danielle remained on island for a weeklong meditation retreat!

We look forward to returning next summer and to sharing many other First Church adventures in the meantime. 

To learn more about Star Island, visit their website.

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Please enjoy this photo album, with some memories from our trip!

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And here are some reflections from folks who participated:

“It was my first trip to Star Island. It was a wonderful day filled with meditation, beauty and fun. Sharing the experience with the First Church family reflecting many generations and connections made it very special.”

“This beautiful place offered us a welcome pause for a day from the hectic pace of our lives and the ever-present onslaught of distressing news. The drive to Portsmouth, the fresh breezes on the ferry, the imposing view of Oceanic hotel as we neared Star Island, and the warm sun on our faces as we toured the island were all so calming and lovely.  What a gift!  And it was so special to have Reverend Danielle with us this year… I hope we can do it again!” 

“Lobster Rolls right by the ocean, on a sacred little island with spiritual friends was a truly magical day!  I wish we could have stayed the week with Rev Danielle!”

"Star Island has been a ‘sacred space’ and Spirit's Home for my family since I was little.  Experiencing the island with First Church family has made it even more special."

"I enjoyed the Star Island trip so much last year, that I was particularly glad that I was able to take part in this year's trip.  The weather gods really delivered again. On the ferry trip out there was a great rolling swell from the hurricane which had passed by hundreds of miles out at sea, but the sea and sky were clear and sparkling.  I also felt particularly fortunate to have the opportunity to finally meet and get to know Rev. Danielle a little bit during the ride up to Portsmouth.  What a great way to begin!    Thank you everyone so much for such a great day!"

“The day on Star Island was truly one of the most lovely days of our summer.  Having never been to the Isles of Shoals, it was fun seeing this sacred paradise of a place that I had only read about, but never had visited.  The private prayer service led by Danielle, in the Chapel, was especially meaningful and just spending a day with the people that we care for so deeply in new surroundings was like a Church Family adventure!  The boat ride was fun too!”  

“I understand why people love this island so much. This was my second trip, but my first since learning about the history of the island, and its connection to Unitarian Universalism. From arriving to a dock full of people singing and chanting to a  departing ferry, to seeing the younger folks able to run around on their own, to the most welcoming group on the porch, it was a lovely day and amazing trip. I wish I had been able to join the First Church Group more, but it was also special to spend time with people I knew outside of First Church.  I am grateful for the opportunity and hope to go back again.”

“If you are looking for a place to get away from it all, and focus on something such as a retreat with like-minded people, then Star Island may be your thing. Getting away from it all is a reason people retreat to an island, right? And on Star Island, you will be able to do just that. (Actually, you kind of have to.) While Star Island does have some claim to fame, it is not nearly as much about tourism and thrill-chasing as, say, Martha’s Vineyard. (Not that there is anything wrong with Martha’s Vineyard.) Perhaps it is not by accident that Star Island Chapel, a place for contemplation and meditation, is located near the highest elevation point on the island. When I stepped on that point, and looked around, it occurred to me how many works of art, especially poems or paintings, that locale may have inspired. Between the rustic shoreline, bucolic architecture nested in surroundings of green, and the sight and sound of waves crushing, the inspiration is palpable—even though, in my case, it “only” resulted in photos.”

Minister's Message: Finding Nourishment in Community

This week, I came across an article on social media from Duke Divinity’s Leadership Education publication. It’s titled “Coffee hour and the beauty of lingering with one another,” by Presbyterian minister Mihee Kim-Kort and it’s worth the read. It immediately made me think of you all, because fellowship hour here is indeed something special. When I first moved to town, before I even began my official first day of work, a neighbor (who is not a member here) remarked, “You’re at First Church?! You know they use REAL tea cups at coffee hour?” 

After reading the article, I realized this is the first congregation I’ve been in where the receiving line at the end of service happens not in the lobby by the exit, but by the doors that lead into the fellowship hall. Here we don’t “exit through the giftshop,” we “exit through the coffee hour.” 

While I recognize that can be an overwhelming prospect for introverts, there is something deeply poetic about it. At the close of the service, I speak a benediction—words to carry on your heart as I send you forth. But you do not hear them and then go your separate ways. You very deliberately add another step. You literally funnel and filter what we share together in worship through a space of community before taking it out into the world. Between time set aside for prayer, learning and contemplation and then the work of going about our lives, you make space for fellowship, nourishment, lingering, rest, and joy. 

The time spent together matters, even when no church business is happening (although I have been impressed at the impromptu uses of announcements and democratic process during fellowship to keep the work of the church churning along). It’s a reminder that between the work of grounding in our sacred values and the work of living those values out in the world, lies the work of community. We need people to help us discern what work is ours to do, support us, hold us accountable, and work alongside us, adding their gifts to our own. We need people to mourn and celebrate with. Even when it’s messy and even when it slows things down, in between the sanctuary and the streets, we need to spend time in community.

And those blue and white cups matter! I especially delight when I see our youth drinking from them. In a culture of disposability, waste, and hurrying, they offer an alternative set of values that counter the “on-the-go” ethic we’re so steeped in. They say, “stay a while.” They say “everyone deserves a bit of beauty and delight in their day.” They say, “this place is committed to something deeper, slower, more-lasting, and more sustainable than garishly colored trendy drinks in plastic to-go cups.” 

When we take time to slow down, to nourish and delight in one another’s company, we come into the presence of the holy. 

This Sunday is World Communion Sunday. We will bring this practice of breaking bread together into the sanctuary, so that we can see clearly the ways this work is always and inherently sacramental—a visible sign of the invisible presence of the divine. And this week in particular, I hunger and thirst for that truth. As news stories of violence, fear, division, and rising authoritarianism continue to flash across the screen, I need to be reminded that we can still meet one another at the table—that we can still honor one another’s humanity through small acts of care, beauty, and grace. I need to know that the presence of God is close at hand and we can still find them in the simple act of breaking bread.

If you need those same reminders, I hope you will join us for worship and communion this Sunday morning. All are welcome at this table.

And of course, there will still be fellowship hour.

In faith,

Rev. Danielle

© Rev. Danielle Garrett, 2025