It took a lot of courage for me to walk into a Unitarian Universalist congregation for the first time on that Sunday morning in February 1997.
My heart started racing as I got ready. I had to lie down on the rug in my studio apartment to do some breathing exercises before I could walk the six blocks to the church. A friend had assured me that Unitarian Universalism was my true spiritual home, but I was carrying weighty sorrows—the loss of a beloved relationship and the end of a beloved vocation. Loss made me feel especially lonely. I knew I needed community. I knew I wanted to contribute to the world with people whose values I shared. But to go into a place where I knew no one? That was scary.
Inside the sanctuary, I found a patch of empty pew and scooted past the people on the aisle to take my place. Everyone was sitting quietly, staring ahead, so when the music started and my tears began to flow, no one leaned over to check on me or offer a tissue. Maybe no one noticed; probably they wanted to respect my privacy.
But I needed more than a tissue that day. I needed a sense of potential inclusion. The words coming from the chancel, the music that the congregation and the choir sang—these spoke so profoundly to my heart and mind that I decided to keep coming back.
It’s so hard to be new in a group. Even now, I can remember particular smiles, a few quiet words, a handshake, some eye contact or shared laughter that gradually made me feel like I could be part of that community. Best of all was when someone invited me to try out a class or a volunteer effort—and met me there.
Even with lots of practice, I can still feel that fear as I join something new. But now I have more trust that, if it’s the right group for me, someone will greet me warmly. Someone will show me where to sit. Someone will ask me my name. And I will offer them my warmth, my curiosity, my gratitude, my hope.
My heart opens to the courage of all who are new. May I be part of their happy realization that they belong.
~Rev. Nancy Palmer Jones
