Notes from Rev. Denise
Dec. 3, 2025
“Real change begins with the simple act of people
talking about what they care about.”
~Margaret J. Wheatley
Dear Ones,
Our congregational mission statement begins with the assertion that “The transforming power of love is our core belief.” We believe that love brings change, and thus our values are deeply entwined with hope. Now, I’m a person for whom ideas and conversations are sparkly (or intensely interesting, if you want to use serious words), so I appreciate Margaret Wheatley’s assertion that change begins with meaningful conversation.
Love can be an intimidating goal at times, but the practices of caring about what we care about and being in conversation with each other are perhaps simply basic forms of connection and love. It makes sense to me that without them there is no change, and ultimately, no hope.
Hope can also be an intimidating goal at times. That is, as long as we are thinking not of hope for things over which we have no control, as in “I hope the sun shines tomorrow,” but of hope as in an abiding trust that the world can be a place of more love and more joy for all of us. That hope and the will to work for it are hard to sustain without the nourishment of community.
I hope that this month finds us talking about the yearnings of our hearts and the needs of our world and where they intersect. Because there, I suspect, we may find the courage and the wherewithal* to embrace hope and create change.
Yours in the hope and the sparkle of the season,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
*Isn’t “wherewithal” a lovely word?
“All life is connected
Nothing lives alone”
~Steve Connell
Friends,
I promised on Sunday to share the poem I meant (but failed) to leave time for at the end of my sermon. It is below my signature, but first a couple of notes from me to you:
So much thanks for all the donations to Second Harvest! We have collected & delivered 96+ pounds of pasta and 38 cans/jars of sauce, plus several boxes of pasta+sauce. Well done! If you have already purchased more items to donate, feel free to bring them this Sunday (the last one in November); also be aware that Second Harvest has started asking for donations of grocery store gift cards instead (because the warehouse is now full of food).
Next Tuesday (November 2) is US House District 7 election day. If you live in Dist. 7 and haven’t yet voted, please make a plan to participate in this very important exercise of democracy by getting to your polling place. (Let me know if you need help finding where that is.)
The poem is below. It’s on the long side; go ahead and get yourself a nice drink & settle in for a cozy read…
Yours in gratitude and love,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
This Living Earth *
Believe about the beginnings what you will;
This much we know for certain…
At some point, darkness released its grip on light
the night / cracked / wide
the universe unclenched its jaws–
and life began to talk.
The very synapses of existence
began firing all at once, moving as one thought;
since the beginning, it has been this way,
when all life on Earth communicated without words.
And still today …
in the twisting of a million butterflies,
the schools of fishes fast twitching in the surf,
and the delicate reaching up of vines;
in the shared mind of a stampede pounding,
or beneath ground, in the sound of mycelial nerves extending
… this resounding language of connection is observed.
But at some point the harmony was broken–
a dissonance occurred …
and slowly the new song of humankind was heard with words like:
“manifiest destiny” … “industrial revolution” … “dominion over all”
…”survival of the fittest” … “urban sprawl” …
And as the song of life became a solo
a new thought began
“Perhaps the world was not alive after all–
but we were simply alive on it”
And with that thought–
the world became a fixed thing–
it simply was;
as the sun or space or rocks;
as if it could never be diminished;
as if our actions could never cause it harm;
… but we were wrong.
And now we have evolved to become both destroyer and savior–
our behavior is our greatest threat,
yet hope resides in our resolve;
in our collective compassion and formidable talents;
the way we rise to any challenge
once we accept we have no choice
And that is why, if, from this moment forward, in our voice,
you once again hear a harmony with the Earth;
then from out of destruction our rebirth comes,
and isn’t that what life does best …
It goes on:
when it seems like it is finished, it survives;
that is why in the most hostile conditions in existence
something thrives–
from toxic soil, a mushroom grows
in a desiccated river bed, water flows
in a still smoldering forest, a flower leans into the wind
and in the midst of this vast expanse … spins / a planet / comprised of:
promise, spark of light, oxygen, and bone.
photosynthesis, salt water, honeycomb, hydrogen atom,
skin cell, hair follicle, matted fur, acetone,
slice of wing, wind current, opposable thumbs, cyclone, dorsal fin,
deep breath, ozone, atmospheric river, heart valve, limestone
All life is connected
Nothing lives alone
On this one and only living Earth: home.
*Steve Connell is a spoken word poet. This poem is found in Ayana Elizabeth Johnson’s book, What If We Get It Right?: Visions of Climate Futures (2024)
Friends,
This week, I am at The Mountain (a UU retreat center) in Highlands, NC, at a gathering of colleagues from around the Southeast. These 3.5-day retreats happen twice a year, and I try to prioritize making the trip at least once a year. To have time to learn, converse, and just generally hang out with colleagues is for all of us an important part of our continuing professional development, and often, our continued personal growth and health. Because I am honoring these days as days of retreat, this is a brief note!
Because this is our month of nurturing gratitude, I want you to know that I am grateful to you, dear ones, for supporting me with a professional expense budget for ongoing training and development and also supporting me in using it well (for things like General Assembly, UU Ministers Association programming, and–perhaps my favorite expense–books.) Being a minister is wonderful, challenging, and sometimes bewildering work; being generously supported in this and many other ways makes a big difference, so I remain…
Yours in growth and gratitude,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
P.S. Thanks to those who brought Second Harvest donations last Sunday. Reminder: besides our Share the Plate collections, we are gathering pasta & sauce; other congregations are collecting other items from Second Harvest’s list of most needed foods. Keep the donations coming: we have three more Sundays in the month of November!
“Story is our only boat for sailing on the river of time.”
~Ursula K. LeGuin
Beloveds,
Today I am grateful for the stories of gratitude we shared on Sunday, and grateful to Kristin for creating the service which invited those stories. It’s easy to find unhappy things to worry about, sadnesses that genuinely need our attention and compassion, and dangers that call for vigilance and vigorous resistance. It is equally true that our lives are gifted with the presence of each other, the acts of kindness and courage we witness and work, the simple (but not always easy) discipline of keeping each other company, and the joy and inspiration that comes from sharing our stories.
This morning, I spent Zoom time with my sisters, which is always filled with stories: of recent happenings, about our children (who are not children) and elders, comparing notes on what we know about ancestors, trading medical advice and stories (we’re that age now!), and titles of books we have loved enough to recommend. Once again, I am reminded that so many stories touch my own, and I am grateful to have such wise and nourishing companions (you, the sisters, children, elders, the books) as part of my story. I hope your day has its own story of gratitude running through it…
Yours in story and gratitude,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
P.S. Update on our collection of pasta for Second Harvest (with thanks to Elizabeth for raising the question and Caren for researching a better answer than I had!): Second Harvest also needs sauces for the pasta we are collecting! So: for the month of November, we are collecting pasta AND sauce. Pick up a few extra items when you do your regular shopping and leave them in the collection box at church. I will be delivering to 2nd Harvest throughout the month, so give as often as you like through Nov 30!
“Even in the mud and scum of things, something always, always sings.”
~attributed (erroneously?) to Ralph Waldo Emerson
Beloveds,
The world is messy: right now, of course, but truly, as always. Sometimes it helps to look for beauty, for whatever sings, whether within or around us. Sometimes it has to be enough just to affirm that somewhere there is surely singing, until one comes around again to the direct experience of beauty and joy. I hope you have, or can create, something fine and beautiful near you this week.
We will have extra opportunities for song and celebration this weekend! Friday evening, some of our UU siblings from the far reaches of Tennessee will be coming into town & sharing dinner from our GNUUC kitchen, and Saturday–Oh! There will be the TUUCAN Fall Flock all day long, and a morning full of No Kings demonstrating downtown. (I hope someone at No Kings will be singing protest songs–if you’re there, go find them & help!) Sunday will find UUs from all over the state worshipping together at First UU Church on Woodmont Blvd (please join us there at 10 am), and I am sure there will be singing. You can find more about these goings-on in the announcements below.
Yours in listening for the song,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
P.S. TUUCAN = Tennessee Unitarian Universalist Community Action Network = all the congregations in our fine (but very wide) state joining together to side with love and coax a more beautiful, more just world into being.
P.P.S. (just to be sure you see it) NO Sunday Service at GNUUC this weekend! Join UUs from all over the state at First UU (1808 Woodmont Blvd) at 10 am.
Even in the mud and scum of things, something always, always sings.
~attributed (erroneously?) to Ralph Waldo Emerson
Beloveds,
The world is messy: right now, of course, but truly, as always. Sometimes it helps to look for beauty, for whatever sings, whether within or around us. Sometimes it has to be enough just to affirm that somewhere there is surely singing, until one comes around again to the direct experience of beauty and joy. I hope you have, or can create, something fine and beautiful near you this week.
We will have extra opportunities for song and celebration this weekend! Friday evening, some of our UU siblings from the far reaches of Tennessee will be coming into town & sharing dinner from our GNUUC kitchen, and Saturday–Oh! There will be the TUUCAN Fall Flock all day long, and a morning full of No Kings demonstrating downtown. (I hope someone at No Kings will be singing protest songs–if you’re there, go find them & help!) Sunday will find UUs from all over the state worshipping together at First UU Church on Woodmont Blvd (please join us there at 10 am), and I am sure there will be singing. You can find more about these goings-on in the announcements below.
Yours in listening for the song,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
P.S. TUUCAN = Tennessee Unitarian Universalist Community Action Network = all the congregations in our fine (but very wide) state joining together to side with love and coax a more beautiful, more just world into being.
P.P.S. (just to be sure you see it) NO Sunday Service at GNUUC this weekend! Join UUs from all over the state at First UU (1808 Woodmont Blvd) at 10 am.
The only thing that isn’t worthless:
to live this life truthfully, fully, and rightly
and to be patient with those who don’t.
~Marcus Aurelius
Beloveds,
What has always drawn me to that particular nugget from Marcus Aurelius (Roman Emperor and wise guy) isn’t so much the encouragement to truthful, full, and right living as it is the invitation to patience. Encouragement to patience with those around me seems like always-good advice, but at this particular moment, with an overabundance of “those who don’t” being reported everywhere I turn my browser, patience seems like a tiny little trickle when I really want to call down the roaring waters of justice. (Note: the waters of justice in the Hebrew Bible are not peaceful, happy waters, but destructive floodwaters in the desert.) It is so tempting to imagine meeting substantial parts of the world around me with righteous anger, or at least self-satisfied dismissal or disdain. Patience is too tall an order when I see policies and decisions that are causing death.
And yet, setting aside whether I’m even in the position of living truthfully, fully, and rightly enough to recognize clearly those who do not, it occurs to me that I might also read in those words a suggestion that I meet my own failings to live my best life with patience. I don’t know about you (perhaps you are living fully, truthfully, and rightly), but I am curious about how meeting myself with patience might differ from my customary culturally-programmed lean into diagnosis, judgment, and correction. It feels softer, for sure, more compassionate, and perhaps more likely to lead to the kind of growth we all long to find in ourselves and each other.
I’m going to try being more patient with myself. Who knows? While it probably won’t change the world around me much, it might make a difference right here where I can feel it.
Yours in compassion and patience,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
Beloveds,
It’s a busy week at church: meetings (Finance & Board), a Saturday retreat (Worship Team), outings for me to Vanderbilt Divinity School (I’m the UU liaison & there are two UU students there this year!) and to the Board of Zoning Appeals. I am also working on Sunday’s sermon, whose title includes the word “God” which I am keenly aware we very rarely use in our sanctuary!
If you’re worried or puzzled about that word, let me reassure you that I have no investment in your particular belief in/rejection of/understanding of deity or spiritual beings. I myself don’t really think of God or Spirit or _____(insert any of many names) as a being, but I am endlessly curious about how we human beings grapple with understanding …how shall I call it?....the nature of reality beyond ourselves, the data of our senses, and the interpretations of our brains. I am inclined to believe that it’s important to try to feel connected to whatever reality there is.
Here’s a warm-up poem for our time together Sunday; it’s a favorite of mine and expresses something we all need to feel, at least from time to time.
As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them,
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
freefall, and float
into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.
~ Denise Levertov, “The Avowal”
Yours in faith and love,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
Beloveds,
It’s a busy week at church: meetings (Finance & Board), a Saturday retreat (Worship Team), outings for me to Vanderbilt Divinity School (I’m the UU liaison & there are two UU students there this year!) and to the Board of Zoning Appeals. I am also working on Sunday’s sermon, whose title includes the word “God” which I am keenly aware we very rarely use in our sanctuary!
If you’re worried or puzzled about that word, let me reassure you that I have no investment in your particular belief in/rejection of/understanding of deity or spiritual beings. I myself don’t really think of God or Spirit or _____(insert any of many names) as a being, but I am endlessly curious about how we human beings grapple with understanding …how shall I call it?....the nature of reality beyond ourselves, the data of our senses, and the interpretations of our brains. I am inclined to believe that it’s important to try to feel connected to whatever reality there is.
Here’s a warm-up poem for our time together Sunday; it’s a favorite of mine and expresses something we all need to feel, at least from time to time.
As swimmers dare
to lie face to the sky
and water bears them,
as hawks rest upon air
and air sustains them,
so would I learn to attain
freefall, and float
into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing no effort earns
that all-surrounding grace.
~ Denise Levertov, “The Avowal”
Yours in faith and love,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
“We are so good at imagining dystopia…[but]…What does flourishing look like?
How do we practice it?” ~Laurel Schneider
“Our hands imbibe like roots, so I place them on what is beautiful in this world.”
~Francis of Assissi
Beloveds–
Imagining dystopia isn’t something we need to work hard at, as human beings alive at this particular moment, but I think it might serve us well to think about flourishing, to consider how to practice it actively, to spread it around, to look for evidence of its existence and possibility.
Surely beauty is part of flourishing, and I love the above words from the late medieval saint, best known as a preacher of the simple life and the patron of animals, who (I am realizing now) is often portrayed with hands reaching out to touch. I always assumed he was reaching out in compassion, care, nurturing (which I’m sure is true), but before encountering that quotation, it didn’t occur to me that he was also caring for his own soul by touching the beauty around him.
Which leads me to wonder: What beauty have my hands encountered and imbibed? Here’s an entirely incomplete list from the last 24 hours: a thick, ancient (100 years, maybe older) vine crawling through the greenery on the hillside beside our sanctuary, a good friend in a hug, the hair of my children, the belly of the small dog who accompanies one of them to our house, the novel I finished this morning about the power of growth and community-building (The Girls Who Grew Big, by Leila Mottley), the mug, painted in Poland and gifted to me by my mother, out of which I drank this morning’s tea while reading. I could go on, but I’d rather think of you leaving this paragraph to go touch and imbibe the beauty of the world around you.
The world is full of beauty. Please partake: I have a hunch our flourishing depends on it.
Yours in love and beauty,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
“We are so good at imagining dystopia…[but]…What does flourishing look like?
How do we practice it?” ~Laurel Schneider
“Our hands imbibe like roots, so I place them on what is beautiful in this world.”
~Francis of Assissi
Beloveds–
Imagining dystopia isn’t something we need to work hard at, as human beings alive at this particular moment, but I think it might serve us well to think about flourishing, to consider how to practice it actively, to spread it around, to look for evidence of its existence and possibility.
Surely beauty is part of flourishing, and I love the above words from the late medieval saint, best known as a preacher of the simple life and the patron of animals, who (I am realizing now) is often portrayed with hands reaching out to touch. I always assumed he was reaching out in compassion, care, nurturing (which I’m sure is true), but before encountering that quotation, it didn’t occur to me that he was also caring for his own soul by touching the beauty around him.
Which leads me to wonder: What beauty have my hands encountered and imbibed? Here’s an entirely incomplete list from the last 24 hours: a thick, ancient (100 years, maybe older) vine crawling through the greenery on the hillside beside our sanctuary, a good friend in a hug, the hair of my children, the belly of the small dog who accompanies one of them to our house, the novel I finished this morning about the power of growth and community-building (The Girls Who Grew Big, by Leila Mottley), the mug, painted in Poland and gifted to me by my mother, out of which I drank this morning’s tea while reading. I could go on, but I’d rather think of you leaving this paragraph to go touch and imbibe the beauty of the world around you.
The world is full of beauty. Please partake: I have a hunch our flourishing depends on it.
Yours in love and beauty,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
“We are so good at imagining dystopia…[but]…What does flourishing look like?
How do we practice it?” ~Laurel Schneider
“Our hands imbibe like roots, so I place them on what is beautiful in this world.”
~Francis of Assissi
Beloveds–
Imagining dystopia isn’t something we need to work hard at, as human beings alive at this particular moment, but I think it might serve us well to think about flourishing, to consider how to practice it actively, to spread it around, to look for evidence of its existence and possibility.
Surely beauty is part of flourishing, and I love the above words from the late medieval saint, best known as a preacher of the simple life and the patron of animals, who (I am realizing now) is often portrayed with hands reaching out to touch. I always assumed he was reaching out in compassion, care, nurturing (which I’m sure is true), but before encountering that quotation, it didn’t occur to me that he was also caring for his own soul by touching the beauty around him.
Which leads me to wonder: What beauty have my hands encountered and imbibed? Here’s an entirely incomplete list from the last 24 hours: a thick, ancient (100 years, maybe older) vine crawling through the greenery on the hillside beside our sanctuary, a good friend in a hug, the hair of my children, the belly of the small dog who accompanies one of them to our house, the novel I finished this morning about the power of growth and community-building (The Girls Who Grew Big, by Leila Mottley), the mug, painted in Poland and gifted to me by my mother, out of which I drank this morning’s tea while reading. I could go on, but I’d rather think of you leaving this paragraph to go touch and imbibe the beauty of the world around you.
The world is full of beauty. Please partake: I have a hunch our flourishing depends on it.
Yours in love and beauty,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
“We are so good at imagining dystopia…[but]…What does flourishing look like?
How do we practice it?” ~Laurel Schneider
“Our hands imbibe like roots, so I place them on what is beautiful in this world.”
~Francis of Assissi
Beloveds–
Imagining dystopia isn’t something we need to work hard at, as human beings alive at this particular moment, but I think it might serve us well to think about flourishing, to consider how to practice it actively, to spread it around, to look for evidence of its existence and possibility.
Surely beauty is part of flourishing, and I love the above words from the late medieval saint, best known as a preacher of the simple life and the patron of animals, who (I am realizing now) is often portrayed with hands reaching out to touch. I always assumed he was reaching out in compassion, care, nurturing (which I’m sure is true), but before encountering that quotation, it didn’t occur to me that he was also caring for his own soul by touching the beauty around him.
Which leads me to wonder: What beauty have my hands encountered and imbibed? Here’s an entirely incomplete list from the last 24 hours: a thick, ancient (100 years, maybe older) vine crawling through the greenery on the hillside beside our sanctuary, a good friend in a hug, the hair of my children, the belly of the small dog who accompanies one of them to our house, the novel I finished this morning about the power of growth and community-building (The Girls Who Grew Big, by Leila Mottley), the mug, painted in Poland and gifted to me by my mother, out of which I drank this morning’s tea while reading. I could go on, but I’d rather think of you leaving this paragraph to go touch and imbibe the beauty of the world around you.
The world is full of beauty. Please partake: I have a hunch our flourishing depends on it.
Yours in love and beauty,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
“Expect nothing. Live frugally on surprise.” –Alice Walker
“Sanctuary is where we dream in safety.” – Leela Sinha
Dear Ones–
How has your summer been? I am “back” from time away from work, and although I travelled only a small bit (and that unexpectedly), it has been good to have time just for myself and family. Now I’m ready to see what this church year brings us and excited to live into our responses to each other and the world around us. How rich in surprise can we be? What dreams can we grow in the shelter of each other?
Let’s find out!
Yours, in expectation and hope,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
“Ministry is always shared because liberation is always collective.”
~Rev. Robin Tanner
Beloveds,
I spent last week mostly online, participating first in Ministry Days with my colleagues (other members of the UU Ministers Association) and then in the General Assembly of the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA), along with GNUUC delegates (Kristin Reveal and Caren Spencer-Smith). Your delegates and I met new people, considered the needs of our association and congregation, and voted on several issues of immediate concern, as well as the normal elections for UUA officers. I hope to report back to you a bit further in August.
This week, I am preparing for our exploration on Sunday of the final piece of our GNUUC covenant, in which we promise “to support each other in thought, word, and deed, as we work to build a better world.”
Our support for each other is truly shared ministry–both in the work of simply caring for each other and in the way it nourishes our efforts to build love and liberation in the world. We know we are not truly free until all of us are free (right?) and as the world around makes us ever more aware that we are not all free, the (sometimes) hard work we do in offering care and support to each other in our small corner of the world is a shared ministry that truly matters in the beautifully wide collective liberation for which we long.
Yours in sharing the challenges of ministry and the joy of liberation,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
P.S. This is my last eblast note for the 2024-25 church year! As is my custom, I shall be on vacation for the month of July (and I will miss you and look forward to seeing you again in August). If you’ve been wanting to talk with me, now is a great time to reach out and set a time to meet! And if you experience an urgent pastoral need while I am away, please call or email the church office (gnuuc@gnuuc.org; 615-673-7699) with a brief message with whatever information you are comfortable sharing, and our administrator, Kris, will connect you with a minister.
Dear Ones,
Just a quick note today, because I am participating in both Ministry Days and General Assembly this week. I am grateful that you are a congregation that supports me in maintaining connections with our Unitarian Universalist Association and in tapping the rich resources of learning, support, and community available in that association. Especially in these times, it is crucial for all of us that we strengthen the bonds between us.
Yours in solidarity and hope amid all that is,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
P.S. Don’t forget: This Sunday we will meet early to watch the livestream of the worship service from General Assembly, beginning at 10 am.
“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way.
On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”
~Arundhati Roy
Friends,
We are, always, in between worlds, moving between what has been, what is, and what is on the way. We do this more or less gracefully, more or less willingly, and with all sorts of feelings about what is and about what is changing. I like the idea of pausing to listen for the breath of new possibilities as we struggle through the now.
At the moment, much of my attention is on Music Sunday: I’m still practicing my parts and looking forward to enjoying choral music during our joint gathering with the congregation of First UU Nashville. I am never so aware of breathing as when I sing. Wouldn’t it be something if breathing and singing together is part of the work of birthing another world–the world of which we dream: a world of belonging and transformations we have yet to imagine into being?
Yours in breathing and hoping,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
P.S. Plans for this Sunday have changed since last week: Due to AC problems in their sanctuary, our friends from First UU Nashville will gather with us for Music Sunday at GNUUC! The service starts at 10 am.
Beloveds,
Do you ever feel prickly and bloomy all at the same time?
Sometimes, poetry (like this, shared at a recent meeting) helps:
For When People Ask
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
I want a word that means
okay and not okay,
a word that means
devastated and stunned with joy.
I want the word that says
I feel it all, all at once.
The heart is not like a songbird
singing only one note at a time,
more like a Tuvan throat singer
able to sing both a drone
and simultaneously
two or three harmonics high above it—
a sound, the Tuvans say,
that gives the impression
of wind swirling among rocks.
The heart understands the swirl,
how the churning of opposite feelings
weaves through us like an insistent breeze,
leads us wordlessly deeper into ourselves,
blesses us with paradox
so we might walk more openly
into this world so rife with devastation,
this world so ripe with joy.
Yours in okay, not okay, and the swirling of our hearts,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
P.S. That’s the cactus growing beside our parking lot, at the bottom of the hill, yesterday. (There are a few more buds. I wonder what will happen by Sunday…)
“We’ll never build a better world if we’re all
too afraid to knock on our neighbors’ doors.”
~Devon Price (on Medium)
Dear Ones,
In place of my usual column this week, I would like to share this call to (really enjoyable) action from our friends at TIRRC–Tennessee Immigrant & Refugee Rights Coalition.
For Kurdish and Turkish cuisine, my latest favorite is TashTea (in Antioch), but that might be because I love the option of sitting on cushions at a low table..Or just head to Nolensville Road and stop anywhere…Or remember the options in Bellevue. Dining out is a treat; it’s also one way to build a stronger community and a better world.
Yours in resistance and community,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org
“Love is your trade, your mission, your job.
Why do you busy yourself with so many other tasks?
—Rumi
Beloveds,
As we gradually approach the end of our church year (officially, it ends on June 30), congregational leaders are busy with budgets and elections for our 2025-26 year. This is a month of looking back and making plans. Our annual congregational meeting will be on Sunday, May 18, immediately following the worship service. I hope you will join us!
In the meantime, I’m reflecting on this year: what we have planned to do, how we have aspired to do it, and how it has actually gone and is continuing right now. Because our vision of ministry this year was centered around building community and because our UU values have been recently rearticulated as being centered on love, the above newly translated bit of Rumi jumped out at me recently. It’s prompted me to consider how I balance my personal trade/mission/job of love with all the tasks that keep me busy. And I’m beginning to consider how we as a congregation attend to the same balance.
It’s tricky, no? Center love, but don’t forget the important meeting! Ignoring the tasks entirely does not create more love and community in the world, even if the tasks can sometimes distract us from the mission.
Looking over the last several months, I find many examples of us acting together to be welcoming and caring with each other and with our wider communities, to build community and celebrate the giftedness of every person, as we were charged to do in our 2024-25 Vision of Ministry. I hope you’ll join us this Sunday for my (now almost traditional) “annual report” to the congregation, in which we will review this year's vision of ministry and consider how it has served us, and how well we have pursued it.
Yours in living our mission amidst all the tasks,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org