The Magnificat is a courageous and subversive song of praise; a call to social justice.

I belong, and you belong, and we belong—just as we are.

Spirit of Life who dwells before and between and beyond all words… we open ourselves to you.

I was made this way, in this body and this skin. Like all beings, I have an inherent good that cannot be eclipsed.

Coming out to my family was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. I realized that my choice was one of life and death, and I needed to let my secret out in order to continue living, and to do so authentically.

My heart broke the day my son stood in the bathroom crying. He handed me a pair of scissors and told me to just cut it. I told him how beautiful his hair was and how sad I would be to see him cut it.

In real life, we can only place the pieces, one by one, and see what kind of picture we create. Sometimes we turn out to have chosen the wrong piece. Sometimes the picture is wildly unexpected.

An adequate Christmas would have you calm and open, taking it in, accepting whatever is. Slow it all down like you might be, in some way, attuned to the pace of the Eternal. If you need, you can fake it at first.

“Though we tremble before uncertain futures, may we meet illness, death, and adversity with strength. May we dance in the face of our fears,” writes trailblazer Gloria Anzaldua, who knew a thing or two about courage. Courage requires both vulnerability and careful strategy. Like other people of...

My stomach turned when I first heard the term "white supremacy" used to describe the culture of Unitarian Universalism and our institutions. But I've reconsidered that response. I understand the pushback: we’ve been trained to see white supremacy as an overt expression of racism, replete with...

There we were, two strangers idling at the red light―but I felt seen, and blessed, by a stranger.

“Suddenly summoned to witness something great and horrendous, we kept fighting not to reduce it to our own smallness.” —John Updike, “Tuesday, and After,” The New Yorker, September 24, 2001 We sat on the back steps watching transfixed as hundreds of rust-red spiders, big as thumbs, dropped...

In times like these, we may seek a new word. But perhaps, in times like these, more than new words, we need old words. We made the journey back to Bethlehem; to the old story of a young, unwed, pregnant girl and her fiancé, Joseph, a poor, young carpenter. The Roman emperor, Caesar Augustus,...