“It hit your heart,” said a tiny Unitarian Universalist theologian, three years old, as his parents were talking about what this congregation means to them. They were a little emotional and he was a little
concerned.
“You mean it hit your heart?” he asked.
“Yes,” said his mom, “in a good way.”
It hits my heart. It touched my soul. It saved my life. It knows my kids, and loves them. It makes me cry. It makes me think. It makes me feel. It holds me up. It gives me hope. I’m forced to sing. I’m asked to care. I asked for help. It gave me help. It needs my help. It hits my heart. It heals my heart. It grows my soul.
It serves the world. It calls me out. These are the things I hear you say all the time when you talk about your church, in new member classes and Board meetings, youth group, committees, coffee hour, Wednesday dinner, Choir. We come to crack our hearts wide open, and that is a hard and holy way to do religion in this world right now. We crack open our hearts and throw open the door, singing, “Come, come whoever you are … .”
“We pick up a lot of strays here,” said someone here, some years ago, “And I’m one of them,” he said.
We all are. We all come seeking some kind of sanctuary (don’t we?), some kind of grace, all seeking to love and be loved with unwavering love, and to shine the light of that beyond these walls.
To keep the doors wide open, the lights on, snow plowed, staff paid with fair benefits (like parental leave), and programs rightly funded, a progressive congregation of this size needs vision, love and hope, and it needs a balanced budget. We’re funded here almost entirely by pledges made annually in March—a Unitarian Universalist miracle, for sure. Please make your pledge early this year, so we can get on with the joyful, heart-full work of growing our souls and serving this world, together.
–Rev. Victoria Safford