Reflecting on the past year, my experience as your intern minister has been profoundly impactful and, in many ways, unexpected. Having been a visitor at UU Asheville for several years, including a year as a Faith Formation teacher, I believed I had a solid understanding of what this internship would entail. However, the significant and unforeseen disruption of the storm quickly shifted the focus of ministry at UU Asheville squarely towards essential pastoral care for an extended period. Additionally, I will admit that the national decision to elect a leader whose previous term was marked by acrimony, a lack of decorum, and division, and the resulting implications of that collective choice, revealing deep social challenges within our country, deeply affected the hearts and minds of our congregation.

Yet, even more than these significant disruptions, I was deeply moved by the profound commitment, the care within our community, and the unwavering dedication that flourishes throughout UU Asheville. Immediately following the storm, witnessing the Care and Connect team reach out to every member on our rolls to offer support was truly inspiring. Serving alongside our Faith Formation team as they provided childcare for families, even amidst the challenges of non-functioning facilities in the difficult days after the storm when normalcy seemed distant, demonstrated remarkable resilience.

Sitting with the auction committee, navigating downed trees and power lines to adapt from a traditional auction to the most needed potluck I have ever experienced at our gratitude dinner in Sandburg Hall, and then demonstrating incredible agility by still organizing a familiar and financially successful auction several months later, was a testament to their dedication. Working with the passionate energy of the newly formed Reproductive Justice team as they rapidly responded to ongoing threats to reproductive freedom and the well-being of individuals with uteruses was also deeply meaningful. Helping to lead the Good Grief Group provided a valuable space to witness and support the processing of grief that naturally arises within any congregation, particularly ours in the aftermath of the storm and significant national events. And even participating in my own Soul Matters group offered a cherished opportunity to share what mattered most to my soul each month, this time as a participant rather than a leader.

While carrying my own sadnesses, I am left with the feeling that I may not have fully seized every opportunity presented to me with the many individuals and groups within our community. However, I measure the success of this internship not by perfect engagement, but by the consistent stretching and encouragement of growth within myself and others. I continually pushed against my perceived limits as intern minister, and I witnessed all of you bravely entering that same space. This shared experience is a gift I will always treasure.

T Kay Browning, Ministerial Intern

At the beginning of the month, my wife and I were in Chicago to attend the death of our former church. That sounds more dramatic than it actually was (though it was dramatic). Gilead Chicago was a Queer, Storytelling, Bar Church, a lovely community whose services took place in various bars and theaters on the northside of Chicago for 8 years. The services featured stories from congregants and guests in the style of The Moth as well as pop songs sung like hymns. It was a beautiful experiment by two ministers from sister denominations, the UCC and the Disciples of Christ. When Gilead announced it was closing the reasons weren’t just financial, but they were about the fact that the congregation hadn’t really bounced back after COVID. Attendance, volunteer support, and energy in the congregation as well as giving were all on a decline. The decision was made for Gilead to die, and to die well, with months of doing church services they always dreamed of doing (including an Easter Vigil Pro Wrestling Show), and one last big party.

Gilead is also the congregation that ordained me as a minister in the Disciples of Christ. I’m a minister (surprise!) and not a UU minister (double surprise!!). Attending their final service and hearing them read a “Last Will and Testament” for this church that was so important to my ministerial formation was heartbreaking in a way that’s hard to describe. When the service finished, a friend of mine who served alongside me as a hospital chaplain and served Gilead as an intern, embraced me in a hug and we both wept for a couple minutes, recognizing the end of an institution so pivotal to both of us.

I’ve been thinking about the death of our progressive religious institutions a lot this last year or so. Before Gilead’s closing, there was also the closing of Geez magazine, a leftist Christian publication, and the House for All Sinners and Saints, a church in Denver started by Nadia Bolz-Weber. It’s hard to see these institutions box up their work and turn off their metaphorical lights. 

All of this is to give a reasonable context for just how thankful I am for UU Asheville. I am thankful that it’s a community that allows Queer folks to be themselves within our doors. I am thankful for the justice work, the children and youth work, and the care work that we do. I am incredibly grateful that we are a progressive religious institution that is growing and thriving! I am grateful that we have so many in this congregation that give so much, that fund our work, that show up, that wash dishes. I hope that we can provide the kind of work that you will be proud of supporting.

Trevor Johnson Connections Coordinator

The Importance of Spring

At the end of November, I moved to West Asheville with my beloved, Leanne, and our cat, Poe. As you may know, we lost our home in Swannanoa during Helene. When we found a wonderful new home in a woodsy area near Carrier Park, we felt extraordinarily blessed. Of course, by then the leaves had changed colors and fallen long ago, but the landscape around our new home was adorned with lots of trees and bushes that promised an eventful spring. We didn’t want to rush the Wheel of the Year though, and throughout the winter we fell in love with this beautiful little bit of urban woods. Helene had hit us hard, in lots of ways, and the winter felt like an appropriate time to mourn, rest, and recognize how deeply our lives had changed in the fall. The land around our home gave us sacred cues, reminding us that we too needed to get quiet and recover after such a dramatic fall. It really took the winter for us to be ready for the abundance and rebirth of spring.

In the past couple months, every day at our new home has been “Wow, look at that!” When little buds and bits of green started popping up around our house, it was as if we were in the midst of some mythological tale. Nature’s alchemy was in full swing, and our landscape was changing rapidly. I have experienced many springs on the heels of many winters, so it seems like I shouldn’t have been surprised this time around, but I certainly was. It was like the intensity of color around our house increased exponentially. “Leanne, look at that!” In fact, all of our senses were waking up with the abundance of spring. I don’t really even know how to describe it, but the Earth was fresh, vital, alive. The sacred cues all around us were offering new instruction: carpe diem, seize the day.

It’s not just the Plant People who are changing and growing so rapidly this spring, and my awareness of the abundance of life in Western North Carolina isn’t limited to my Relatives with roots. It’s not unusual for me to see a groundhog munching along the road on my way to church, and the birds all over seem to be conspiring to bring their music to Asheville to liven up the place. Leanne noticed a squirrel the other day that was some kind of maestro of tail-flicking, like it was directing Animal traffic from a tree branch. And in some kind of living iconography, a skink sunned itself at the feet of a little metal statue of Archangel Michael I have on my altar outside our house. All Our Relations in Asheville are bringing their “A game” this spring!

Maybe I’m so excited about the new life in Asheville this spring because I needed it. Maybe my post-Helene psyche is simply extra appreciative of the magical resourcefulness of the Earth. Regardless of the reason, I can say unequivocally that I’ve decided to say Yes! to the revitalization all around me. With all of this new life, with all of the giddy up of spring, I’m feeling profoundly resourced. I haven’t forgotten about Helene, or the fact that I’m still experiencing the effects of recent trauma (including from our cultural and political “weather”). Like our whole region, my interior landscape still bears the clear marks of devastation. But what I’m realizing now is that my landscape is revitalizing, budding, shifting toward opportunities for flourishing. And I am trying to practice—to choose—what the ancient Greeks called eudaemonia, or thriving, in the context of my fall and winter experiences. With the help of All My Relations, I’m celebrating that I, too, am resonating with the power, vitality, and fecundity of spring.   

Matt Farris, Ministerial Intern