There are many things that stood out to me at our Ingathering Service last Sunday. The announcement of a gift. Being together in person. The milestone of affirming a young person’s chosen identity. Our commitment to social justice despite the neighborhood antagonism against it. 

But one thing really stood out to me and I’m sure it’s stood out to many people because it was upfront and very obvious. I love that the children were allowed to be children during worship. 

From my advantage point. I didn’t see too many scowls, though I’m sure there were some. I was excited to see coloring and drawing and playing together. Even as we worshiped. Even as we met together in community. 

I saw parents playing with kids and some parents how were comfortable enough to let their children go forward. I saw a community that embraced these young people. 

Now I know that the children can be distracting. There are many distracting things and worship services. On Sunday could have been the fire in the giant chalice in the middle of the oval.  It could have been the sun and its position as we sat exposed. It could have been people moving their chairs to avoid it said sun. It could have been the birds chirping or the planes overhead. Or it could have been the children playing hopscotch in the middle of the service. 

One thing that drew me to the fellowship is its commitment to multi-generational worship. 

Over the years, multi-generational or intergenerational has had many different iterations. But the most simple definition is that seeks to engage all people across all generations, It’s even just a little bit, on a level that they are. 

We see this in our commitment to a monthly MultiGen service, the in-gathering being one or the next one happening on Halloween, then one before Christmas. These services will be geared toward our older adults and our youngest children and everyone in-between. It’s not an easy task to create these services. I’m excited to work with Stearns and Allison to create a professional MutiGen service. 

How will we know if it works? Do we let the negative comments sway us? Do we take to heart people who claim about the children being too loud? Or do we see that the children lose interest 35 minutes in and wander off to climb trees? Do we let those things discourage us? 

OR do we realize that success is in those small moments? When a 7-year-old remembers our commitment that when we when someone steals our black lives matter flag, we will get two to tell the world who we stand for. When a new family feels like their kids will fit right in. Or when an older member shares in song with those around her. 

Anything that you do that is not for one single group, whether that is race or gender or class or age, is not going to feel one hundred percent comfortable. Because it is not a hundred percent our experience. 

But I’m so glad that we are the congregation that embraces all of those differences.  That sits in the unfamiliar. Whether that’s singing songs in different languages. Or engaging in racial justice alongside folks of different backgrounds. Or being in worship with children. 

We continue to be radically welcoming of all people. And I for one very excited to be part of this fellowship 

An entirely different column was planned for this week, but a strange thing happened to me a few days ago that I felt like I wanted to share. I led what I feel like for me was the worst teacher orientation I’ve ever led in my 12-plus years of doing religious education. 

Now, I want to note that anyone who was at that meeting, this is not about you. This is a ME problem. You were there and you were wonderful sports. You are wonderful to volunteer your time, but I’m sure you saw a side of me that I wasn’t happy with. 

Anyway, in the days leading up to this meeting, I was very excited to finally take the reins as the Director of Religious Education. Leading our group of fearless volunteers to teach and nurture and love and grow our young people. I wanted to give them the tools they needed. 

I looked at last year’s presentation and it was a lot. It was a two-day presentation, several hours. And I knew that 1. they didn’t have the time, or the patients for that kind of meeting on Zoom. Who does these days? And 2. That’s not necessarily my vibe. I try to be much more laid back, I go with the flow. I have a plan, I make a plan and then I throw that plan away the second it needs to be thrown away. 

But leading up to that meeting, the laid-back me was nowhere to be found. My anxiety was running wild all day, but I knew that I had a little trick here. I’ve been meditating for the last few years.  And I tell you, if I skip a day, I notice it. The other day was a day I skipped. 

I had good intentions. I pushed it back from my normal morning meditation. I was gonna do it in the evening and meditate on education, on religious education and what it means to teach our young people. But, for many reasons, I never got a chance to meditate. 

When the meeting started, we didn’t have the passcode. My camera got messed up. It was not as smooth as I wanted them to be. The anxiety that had been building up for days, that I never had a chance to reset, just spilled over leading me to cut the hour-and-a-half scheduled meeting short because I forgot what time it should have ended.

I lost myself at that moment. I didn’t present as a leader or as someone who knew what they were doing. Instead, I gave in to my anxiety.

There is a video in my mom’s video collection from when my brother turned one year old. My parents rented one of those big camcorders you set up on your shoulders to capture the party. 

The last 20 minutes of the VHS captures the next day. After a long day of partying, like only a toddler full of early 80s bug juice and candy could, my mom made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I did not want the jelly. And so, I proceeded to throw a tantrum for 20 minutes, my mom video-taped it all with this fun new toy they had. I was inconsolable and irrational. Anyone who has had a toddler can attest to what this looks like. She played it on the VCR every time. anyone came over. I melted down because I didn’t get the food I wanted. My overtired toddler brain could not handle it. 

The other day I was on TikTok, yes the children’s dancing app that I am far too old to be on watching other elder millennials who are far too old to be on TikTok talk about things that are important to us. 

And I scrolled across one account that talked about how children don’t have tantrums, they have anxiety attacks. The commentator went on to say that it is their anxiety that comes forward when they have a tantrum. And I immediately thought back to that time when three-year-old me had a tantrum because I had jelly on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and struck me on Monday, how I felt the same way 

I think it is important for us to teach children to be good social activists, I think it is important for us to teach children to care about the environment, to care about other people, to care about themselves. 

I think, when they get older, we should teach them to call their congressmen. When they’re a little, we should teach them to stand up to bullies. But all children and all adults, need the tools to keep there ever-present anxiety in check 

I started meditating three years ago, and it has calmed me down, and checked my anxiety. I haven’t had an anxiety attack like that. I have found it important to regularly sit quietly. And let me tell you, I am not a person who likes to sit and be quiet. I am fidgety and loud. I need to be doing something at all times. 

Learning to sit quietly is key to adult well-being, youth well-being, and children well well-being. One of the first things I noticed when I went to your website when I applied for this job for the month website, was that there was meditation offered weekly. I thought, wonderful. I wanted to join them. I saw the meditation room and the women’s space and saw them as sacred, holy, quiet places. 

I hope that in the coming months and years, we will have opportunities to sit quietly together. I know that it benefits me. I know that benefits children, I know that it can benefit you 

There are times to be loud but there are times to be quiet, even for children, even for youth, even for adults.  

Let’s all take a deep breath.

Recently I’ve been looking at our Unitarian Universalist rites of passage. Our official ones, Child Dedication, Coming of Age, Bridging, are obvious. But we also our OWL (Our Whole Lives) program is in a way a right of passage, with various stages (k-1, 4-5, 7-8, 10-12). Many societies and religious traditions have rites of passage; think of First Communions or Barmitzvahs. This isn’t just for fun or parties; they are distinct societal rituals that mark growth into adulthood. 

Outside our religious institutions, we have more rites of passage.  For some, it is our first baseball glove or broken bone. 

These communal rituals are essential to both our children and our own community. They signify developmental benchmarks that are known and understood by the community. They are anticipated and celebrated.

But once our children have bridges or graduated, our communal celebration of growing up stops until our young people enter back into a family model at marriage or starting a family. Young adulthood lacks excitement. We often lack support for them. 

But as we understand adolescence to continue well into people’s 20s and that Millenials are delaying marriage and family starting later (if at all), we need to continue to pay special attention to our recent bridgers and folks in their 20s and 30s.

All this is to say that we are developing some young adult groups and programs. Not to exclude them from the greater Fellowship, but offer them a place to be (or stay) plugged into our community. 

We invite all young adults (the UUA designates young adults as folks aged 18-35) to join us for a virtual coffee hour on the first Sunday of the month at 12:30. We hope that as we move into warmer weather, we can meet outside. Our first meeting will be on February 6th. Some of our young adults will be leading. I hope to see you there.

I recently asked some of our families what brought them to the fellowship. Some of their answers were, “I was looking for a community that held my values,” “We were looking for a progressive religious community in which our daughter, Kristi, could find community, values, acceptance, tradition, knowledge of traditions,” “I wanted my kids to have a religious/spiritual component in their lives. I didn’t realize how much I needed it (and a community) too until we started coming.” There was a theme emerging. I then asked, “What do you hope to gain from your time at the fellowship?” “Community, friendship, learning, growing, comfort, care, giving, understanding, peace and things I haven’t even thought of yet,” and “To be seen and valued and respected” were the first answers. 

As some of you have seen, we are embarking on a process of discernment for our Religious Education Process. We are looking at our past (the good and the bad), our present (as rocky as it seems), and our future (the wonders it beholds…) and determining a path for the Fellowship’s programs for Youth and Children. In this discernment process, we will be considering everything from timing, to frequency, to curriculum, to staffing, to budget, to volunteers, to structure. We hope to grow into our new space while living out our historical values.

With all this future focus, what is happening this year? Well, we are hoping to create a simple program where children, youth, their families, and volunteers can create a sense of community. We want to meet everyone where they are so that we can invite them into that community. This year we are focusing on creating a safe space where people (young and old) can build lasting relationships. 

The number one thing I talked about with the team that hired me was “Bridging the Upstairs/Downstairs Divide” which has been so prevalent at the Fellowship. And in learning about the history of the Fellowship, this is an intentional design. This “Silo-ing” was common in churches in the 70s, 80s, 90s, and early aughts. But scholarly study and writing have repeatedly found that this no longer works. Some argue that it never actually did work. 

UU Religious Educator Kim Sweeny wrote extensively on this. She writes, “Religious educators are being invited to engage the entire congregation in faith formation.” and shares a quote from UU leader Connie Goodbread, “Faith development is all we do. Unitarian Universalism is the faith we teach. The congregation is the curriculum.”

One more time for those in the back: The Congregation is the Curriculum.

Engaging the ENTIRE Congregation authentically and comprehensively is extremely important to the growth of the Fellowship, the promotion of UU values, and creating a better world by, as Joel says, saving lives. It is the best way to realize the goals of the strategic plan and the promise of the new building. 

As we move to break ground on the new building, seek a new settled minister, and implement the strategic plan, it is now time to begin making tangible changes to grow. Growth requires change. But for many, change can be the scariest. It means a loss of control or comfort. There is often a feeling that accepting change is also an acknowledgment of wrongdoing. But this is not the case. Change and growth continue the work that started almost 70 years ago. 

The first step to creating meaningful change without losing our history or sense of ourselves is to critically look at the things we look back on fondly and dissect those experiences. What was the deeper reason that those were meaningful to us? 

I’ve heard many different stories about various trips that used to happen and a desire to just recreate them. Now that is an option, but perhaps not one that makes sense today. What was it about the trip that was really meaningful? 

Was it the destination or the activity done there? OR was it the trip itself? Was it that fact that young people were able to bond over an extended period of time on a shared mission? Perhaps a pilgrimage to a spiritual site or a trip to a protest would also make the same impact while speaking to the desires of people of all ages. 

Are we a unique religious organization because many different committees do all the work, each overseeing its own area of the Fellowship? OR is it because we have been guided by a shared vision and desire to make the world a better place? Perhaps we can continue having big-picture conversations with people from all different walks of life and leave the nitty gritty to the professionals. 

So how do we do this work moving forward? To get back to the beginning of this is to do it TOGETHER. All ages, genders, racial backgrounds, and religious upbringings. This means stepping out of our comfort zones. It means having “noisy” kids in the service on Sunday. It means printing out directories. It means true collaboration. No group owns a program, event, space in the building, or vision. Collaboration means listening to each other and not expecting others to do it “our way.” Collaboration means giving as much control as we seek to retain. Collaboration means we don’t see ourselves as the smartest in the room. 

It is my hope and goal to have conversations for creating a truly collaborative, inclusive, and multi-generational community that cares for the spiritual, political, and emotional needs of everyone in our reach.