…if we ignore the tragedy, the violence, and the anguish, we lose sight of God in the midst of it—our God who came to us in the form of a vulnerable human baby… our God who came to us in mortal human form to feel all that we feel, the joy and the sorrow… to deny that these emotions are there, to deny the tragedy and the horrors of the world, is, in a way, to deny God…

Our 2023 Christmas Pageant performed by our amazing youth!

This is the only way our God could come into the world—not the way Isaiah pleaded for—making mountains quake, making bushes spontaneously burst into flames, tearing open the heavens—but subtly, quietly, and humbly. Because what greater hope is there than that of a newborn baby?

Rev. Amy answers 4 pre-submitted theological questions from the congregation!

Two Thanksgiving homilies, from our combined Thanksgiving service with First Universalist Society of Hartland:

Rev. Paul Sawyer preaches on the poem "Thanks" by W.S. Merwin;

Rev. Amy Davin preaches on 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11; November 19th, 2023.

…she says that she learned from a doctor friend, what hope is. She says it “…isn’t…skipping to the end, ‘Just tell me everything’s going to be okay,’…But it’s the feeling where someone keeps pace with exactly where you’re at and helps you find the edges of what you can hope for.”

This is a place where we can, for just an hour or so, escape the judgment and manufactured scarcity of the world and feel the abundance of Love that’s promised; the abundance of love that is always available to everyone…

Let’s do right by the saints; let’s do right by those we’ve lost and continue to show the true Christian tenants of service, of inclusion, of radical hospitality, and of love—together, as one…

I had really been letting that expletive fly get to me. And when I had that conversation with Brian on Friday, I thought—what a perfect way to turn something so annoying into something positive. I really love the idea of letting that stupid little insect force me to take a deep breath and remember why I do what I do…

Who knows what Euodia and Syntyche were fighting about? It doesn’t matter to Paul, and it shouldn’t matter to us— what matters to Paul is that they get it together so that the innocents who have found a home in this Philippian-Christian community won’t find themselves without a faith community…

So when Paul uses his running metaphor, this metaphor of this race, and says, “…forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead…” he’s telling his friends, don’t get bogged down thinking and stressing about your past… learn from it, and move forward… learn from it and find a way to be at peace…

Grace is what allows us to be good Christians, or as good Christians as we can possibly be, in a world that makes being a good Christian nearly impossible…

But to accomplish those great things, they have to figure out what’s really necessary, what really matters in this world. Paul wants to make it clear that it’s not him—it’s working and acting and loving as one, for the community…

The Holy Spirit requires us to be flexible, requires us to understand those of different backgrounds, faiths, and ideologies. It shocks and surprises us with different levels of understanding, with new ways of thinking about others; it overtakes us, allowing us to see people and the world in new ways… that is, if we let it…

A little anticlimactic, isn’t it? After witnessing yet another miraculous event, the apostles simply go back and pray. But I wonder if this is maybe an example of the apostles finally maturing, finally realizing that they need to really think about the things they’ve seen and been through, that they really need to process everything—the trauma, the grief, the joy, all happening in such a short amount of time. Going back and praying discerning together is exactly what needed to happen before they would begin their brand new ministry…

[Julian of Norwich] could not confine God or Jesus to any one gender, to any one type of being. We are endlessly born in Jesus, in this love and this sweet protection, but we are never born out of Jesus. Despite this, he represents true motherhood…

…the increased comfortability with isolation has pushed us so far from the vibrant communities full of people who once looked out for one another, who once greeted a lost stranger with offers to help instead of greeting them with a gun.

…the word companion comes from the latin cum panis, which means “with bread” or “bread sharer.” In our passage for today, the apostles are doing four things together—they are praying, they’re teaching and discussing, they’re doing good deeds for people in need, and they’re breaking bread together…

We can move on to a time of wrestling with the lack of logic and the leaps of faith we must take in order to find and feel that magic again; and in turn, think about what the hope and promise of resurrection means for us in our modern world. We can, while accepting that we may never fully understand the resurrection, make it magical and awe-inspiring once again…

How often must we put our faith in things we cannot see? How often must we have that relentless, persistent faith and hope that sucks all our energy, that defies all rationality?