When someone lists Unitarians or Universalists, they usually name white men. Never anyone Black like me.

From the beginning, the story of Black people in America has been told through the lens of white supremacy.

If you’re seeking sacred Black “text” in our tradition, you have to examine the way our Black ancestors lived.

Spirits of winter, I celebrate you!

God of our ancestors, may we find the ways in which we can connect across generations.

In our lived lives, family comes in different shapes and sizes and constellations.It is in this variety—this diversity—that our lives are made fuller and our individual selves made more whole. It is in this variety, it is in this diversity, that we look back to the ancestors, recognizing no...

We are the hands and feet of love. And sometimes its fingernails, too.

I don’t know exactly when it happened, but something began to change.

Food carries the love, wisdom, and stories of survival of a people.

We are part of the connective tissue that holds the legacy and future of our faith.

Let us be grateful for the vital force that wakes us and moves us.

Every time we open ourselves to one another, we become more human.

Love is reaching through the generations with expectations that I live through challenging times.

I rise on the shoulders of ancestors whose names I can not know.

We have a holy obligation to bring about paradise on this earth; each generation helps us do that.

Growing connects me to ancestors who had their hands in the dirt because it was keeping them alive.

White supremacy illuminates the exceptional instead of blaming the system.

We must be willing and prepared to dance with joy when liberation arrives.

Spirit of Life, remind me to release that which no longer serves me so that I may be present to joy.

Sometimes love is simply letting someone else like what they like.