Perspectives for November 2026

This year, as we consider what it means to Be Seeds of Change, I am mindful of how much more care and love is needed in the world. Care for ourselves, our children, the children and people of the world, our Earth home. Our theme for November is Reverence, which means to hold something or someone in honor and respect, or love, even in awe. Too often, this word gets limited to religious contexts. People speak of reverence in the context of a church service, or the clergy. But this month, I want to break open this idea of reverence – to show that it is not something that should only be applied to a few things. Instead, if we take time, offer our attention and care, then we see that reverence is a way of being in the world.

Songwriter Peter Mayer (perhaps best known in UU circles as the writer of the hymn Blue Boat Home) describes this exact transition in his song “Everything is Holy Now.” He describes going to church each Sunday where the priest would offer the holy word and consecrate the holy bread, but now he understands that everything is holy.

In the song, he writes,

Wine from water is not so small
But an even better magic trick
Is that anything is here at all
So the challenging thing becomes
Not to look for miracles
But finding where there isn't one

…It used to be a world half there
Heaven's second rate hand-me-down
But I walk it with a reverent air
'Cause everything is holy now

We explore reverence this month, recognizing that it is a way of being in the world that is not confined to things typically labeled “holy” but to all the gifts of this life. Even through difficulties and struggles and losses, we can still hold ourselves, our hearts, and our grief with reverence, for it is all a part of our one precious life.

A challenge, though, is that honoring life and all gifts of life with reverence requires attention – it means slowing down. And that can be hard to do – sometimes impossible in the way our society is structured. Reverence is a value that opposes exploitation and greed, but in this system, there is so much that drives us to rush in order to do more. Sometimes we push ourselves this way, thinking it is what we must do, or what we ought to do. We are not trained to be mindful of reverence in each moment. We’ve learned to compartmentalize it for Sunday, for holy days, for sacred events – as if the sun rising each morning is not a sacred gift.

As we learn to be seeds of a new way of being, trying to turn this world toward sustainability and equity, our practice to bring more attention, care and reverence is a part of sowing these seeds in our own lives.

Rev. Susan Frederick-Gray

Lead Minister

revsfg@uubloomington.org

As I’m continuing to settle into my internship at UUCB, I’ve been reflecting on the sacredness of everyday moments: conversations after Sunday services, listening to a story someone shares, or sitting with someone whose heart is grieving.

This has me thinking about our November theme of Reverence.

When I think about reverence, I’m imagining standing beneath a centuries-old towering white bark sycamore tree. Or looking up at a sky full of sparkling stars on a clear night. These experiences always seem to remind me that we are all a part of something much larger and ancient than ourselves.

But I’m also wondering about all the quieter and hidden places where reverence can also live.

Reverence is not only something we experience during extraordinary moments of beauty. It can also be a way of relating to the world and the people around us. The way we listen when someone is sharing their story or the curiosity we have to understand people’s experiences that are different from our own. Or the tenderness we feel in moments when we realize how truly precious and fragile life can be.

I’ve been noticing how easy it is to move through our days and weeks without deeply seeing what surrounds us. Our calendars seem to fill with responsibilities and our attention gets stretched in so many directions. We can become so focused on what comes next that we can miss what is happening now.

I’m wondering if reverence can invite us into a different relationship with life. A way of being where we make more room for curiosity and the possibility of growing and evolving our perceptions.

As we explore reverence together this month, I’m curious what we could discover by seeing familiar things with deeper awareness. What if the sacred is not something we have to go in search of, but is already right here, waiting for us to notice?

Maria Renner

Ministerial Intern

mrenner@uubloomington.org

As I was working on this reflection, I was shaken by the reality of a tree limb falling on my car, smashing the rear window and leaving a slew of dents and dings. Suddenly, reverence was the farthest thing from my mind as I worried about repairs and bills and the logistics of getting where I needed to be in the meantime without a car. But deadlines loomed, so, battling my distraction of sadness and self-pity, I challenged myself to refocus. In a moment like this, where does reverence fit in? I most certainly was not feeling it, but I believe that faith that only “works” when things are rosy is pretty much useless, and sometimes you just have to “fake it till you make it.” So, after many deep breaths, I attempted to process my feelings through the lens of reverence.

Slowing down my breathing and my racing thoughts, I was able to acknowledge reverence for the tree that dropped the limb, and for the awesome power that is a tree. Just think of all the energy stored in that long and heavy limb before it fell! The tree grew all that mass, along with all its other limbs, out of sunshine and water and the nutrients in the soil. That in itself is awe-inspiring.

De-centering myself further, I gradually came to a place where I could feel reverence for the unpredictability of it all. This was tough. If it were up to me, I would keep driving that car for many more years. But that’s the point: it’s not up to me. In fact, pretty much nothing is. As I laid in bed that night I was particularly tuned in to the sounds of the night, most especially the sounds of things dropping: the acorns on the metal roof, another limb somewhere in the woods… Anything can happen. It’s a little ridiculous that I make plans as if I know what is going to happen – plans to drive to work, to go do errands, to take my mother shopping; plans for Christmas and next spring and next year’s garden; plans for travel and retirement and for passing along my stuff; plans (or at least hopes) for how I’ll be remembered and what kind of life the next generations will have. Really?

We live in a world of clamoring for certainty. We cuss out our weather apps when they say it won’t rain and then it does. We gobble up every political poll hoping to know who’s going to win the election that is still weeks or months away. We want to know our chances of getting this cancer or that; we’re thrilled to learn that walking this many minutes shaves our risk of heart disease by this many percentage points, or that this sports team is favored to win by so many points… It seems we always want to know more, process more, understand more, as if we are on a quest to root out all uncertainty and surprise. But falling tree limbs remind me that I am not in control, despite all the modern tools of prediction and information gathering.

It’s interesting that we tend to like the suspense of a good story – most of us do not like knowing how it ends before we start. If we’re watching a rerun of a game, we don’t want anyone telling us the final score. We enjoy the unfolding. Why not in actual life? I guess because when we’re reading a story or watching a game, we’re on the outside. The uncertainty is at a safe distance, not landing on top of our car.

I think of reverence as that feeling of awe for that which is bigger and beyond us. So, in the same way that looking at a clear, starry night sky reminds me of my insignificance in this mysterious universe, my smashed window also reminds me that my sense of being in control is an illusion. They can both evoke reverence, if I let them. Reverence reminds me to hold things lightly. To appreciate the moment – this moment. To live with compassion and humility. And to appreciate the awesome, unfathomable Mystery that is this universe.

Dr. Stephanie Kimball

Director of Lifespan Religious Exploration

kimball@uubloomington.org

Welcoming our new members!

I am grateful to introduce recent new members who chose to submit a bio for this edition of Perspectives. I hope you will connect with them at UUCB and participate in welcoming them into the larger congregation!

Sue Bydlon

I’m originally from Ann Arbor, Michigan. I’ve lived in Bloomington for the past 10 years. I’m a retired physical therapist and worked in that field for 40 years. In my retirement I’m enjoying being in the Bloomington Community Band where I play clarinet, hiking the many beautiful trails that our community has access to, and traveling.

Kimberly Henderson

I live out in Beanblossom, Indiana on a beautiful farm. We have a large multigenerational family sharing space on our farm. We have four kids, I have a husband, Anders Jorgensen, and my mother-in-law and her boyfriend all live there. I am a birth doula, a farmer and a full time midwifery student. I am from upstate New York, the Finger Lakes region, originally. My hobbies and interests are wide ranging. I read a lot, I'm active in local birth and reproductive rights groups, and I am passionate about feminism and rights for women.

Frankie Hubbs

A Hoosier native, I grew up splitting time between Terre Haute and rural Putnam County before attending IU and graduating with a bachelor's degree in English and Classical Studies. My husband and I were married out of college and moved to Denver, CO, where we lived for almost four years before settling down back here in Bloomington. We are fortunate to love one beautiful son, two brainless dogs, and a temperamental cat. As a hobby writer and reader, thoughtful words of all genres inspire me, as well as music and nature; my happy places tend to be outside, with the exception of a library or else my kitchen, radio blasting as I bake. Feel welcome to come say hello if you see me around. I am so excited to be an official member of this fabulous congregation!

Chris Weeks

I am thrilled to be living in Bloomington and to become a member of the church. I appreciate Taoism and mysticism. I raised my children in Greencastle and my son now lives in Chicago and works for the EPA. My daughter is in San Francisco and works for AmeriCorps. I am teaching special education at Jackson Creek. I have also taught in California, the Navajo Nation, and the DOC. I enjoy gardening and hiking.

Anabel Watson
Connections Coordinator
connect@uubloomington.org

As a child, I learned one meaning of reverence: be quiet at church.

Since then, I've found reverence and wonder and awe all around me, in
the radically inclusive chaos of a pride festival,
the devotion to justice expressed with signs and chants at protests,
the profound commitment to humanity manifest through our social justice task forces,
and even in quiet moments of reflection at church.

I'm moved by voices united in song every week. Last spring, when nearly 200 musicians came together and performed Beethoven's Ode to Joy, Symphony No. 9, it was a peak life experience for me. I felt a deep connection to the people and the music. I felt joy, and hope for the future.

I feel awe and reverence at the wonders of the natural world, at the hoots of a great horned owl in my own yard, at crashing ocean waves, at a sky full of stars, and the colors of the fall.

I recommend T.C. and Selma Steele's favored saying: "Every morning I take off my hat to the beauty of the world."

And I share the sentiment expressed by William Henry Davies, now #94 in our hymnal:

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Take off your hat to the beauty of the natural world, and to the humans within it. Be like a cow: stand and stare in wonder.

The Board is always delighted to hear how UUCB can help you connect to whatever brings you wonder, and awe, and reverence.

Doug Anderson

Board Member At Large

It’s a typical every-other-week for Judy Kelly, longtime stalwart of the Hunger Task Force, as she returns from Sam’s Club and unloads 30 dozen eggs, 4 pounds of butter, 20 pounds of pancake mix, 4 bottles of syrup, 20 loaves of bread, and several packages of freeze-dried hash brown potatoes at the Shalom Center, aided by the Center’s current Director of Hunger Relief, Anthony Christopher. The Shalom Center is the day shelter of Beacon, Inc., the principal provider of services to homeless people in Bloomington and Monroe County. It serves two hot meals per day, Monday through Friday and on holidays. That’s approximately 80 breakfasts and 120 lunches per day!

For well over a decade, the UU Hunger Task Force has responded mainly to the Center’s kitchen needs. It began with an impromptu donation of RE-baked lasagnas and gradually evolved to providing ingredients for special hot breakfasts on Fridays. The mode of this provision has fluctuated over time, with changing recipes, availability of foodstuffs, the prep equipment on hand, and Shalom personnel. For instance, when Mary Blizzard’s recipe for frittatas proved very popular with the Center’s guests, we in the Hunger Task Force met in each other’s homes for biweekly “chops” of tomatoes, potatoes, and sausages until the Center acquired suitable machinery to do this prep in house. When bird flu caused a national egg shortage (and skyrocketing egg prices), the Center asked us for ALL EGGS by hook or crook. And when Shalom staff are available to do the shopping, it’s sometimes most efficient to just give them cash.

Regardless of mode, our canny, sharp-eyed grocery shoppers really know how to stretch the approximately $300 that we spend monthly to supply Friday breakfasts at the Shalom Center—though with greatly inflated food prices, this has become more difficult. These days, our fundraisers need the congregation’s wonderfully generous support more than ever. Please patronize our fiber-arts booth at the upcoming UU Art Fair and Bazaar!

Lynn Struve, Hunger Task Force Co-Chair

hunger@uubloomington.org

Founded in August 2001, our congregation's Heartland String Band has had a blast playing old time and Celtic music for 25 excellent years. We have enjoyed playing for a number of congregational Maypole dances and assorted other events. Because of low participation at our practice sessions in recent months, we have decided to take a break. The String Band is discontinuing our monthly practices for now, but we may resume in the spring if there is interest. Watch this space for info, and thanks for all the fun!

Sally McGuire and Carol Marks

A couple of notes regarding time!

• Daylight Savings Time ends on Sunday, November 1 at 2 a.m. when time falls back one hour and suddenly, as if by magic, time will be 1 a.m. Be sure to set your clocks back before bed on Saturday, October 31.
• Starting Sunday, November 29, we will have one service at 10:30 a.m. through the end of December.

Sunday, November 29, 2026 at 10:30 a.m.
What is Survivance and Why Should We Care?
Rev. Dennis McCarty
Recognizing the ways that Thanksgiving stories have been told to repress the history of colonization, this service will reflect on survivance, explained to me by Indigenous people as a portmanteau of survival and resilience. It is very much a matter of oppressed people living on their own terms, rather than terms dictated by the oppressor.

Rev. Dennis McCarty is a member of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Bloomington, and Minister Emeritus at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Columbus, Indiana.