​When your local, independent bookstore makes it clear that books banned out of fear and the narrow ideology of a few hurts us all, and then sets up a display table highlighting all the banned titles , and then shared about the generosity they received in over $16k in donations to buy all the banned titles and then some…you know you’re in a great city (even if it’s in a crazy backward state)… and it’s worthy of celebrating! Of course I just had to add a few more titles to my pile! I brought several home to our 16 year old and she finished one of them in one day!
Thank you Rediscovered Bookshop! You are my heroes.
As a side note: these books were all banned by the nearby school district in Nampa, Idaho…some of the titles make no sense at all, I mean Toni Morrison??? I also feel the need to point out that It’s Perfectly Normal is used in our (Unitarian Universalist) 4th - 6th sexuality education program , Our Whole Lives, and has been for years. It’s an excellent book. It offers age and developmentally appropriate information about our bodies and puberty and sexuality. It has been a favorite in our household.
I want my kids to learn by understanding the truth about life and by experiencing stories that help them explore new ideas and relationships and possibilities. Why do we think that because something makes us uncomfortable it is inherently wrong? Why do we allow conservative religion to bully government into compliance for a few? The separation of church and state has meant that no one church should have control over public policy…rather we must affirm the values and needs of the whole and draw our circles wide enough to include all people and all lived experience, even when it’s hard. What about my religion that affirms a free and responsible search for truth and meaning?
I’m just tired of living under the heavy hand of narrow mindedness and fear.
#stickittotheban #banbulletsnotbooks #UUA #OurWholeLives #bannedbooks #freedomofspeech #LetTheChildrenRead #FreedomToRead #thisisboise #thisisidaho #idahome

I am a minister, a pastor, a religious leader who is wholeheartedly pro choice and supports abortion care and reproductive justice.

I awoke to the SCOTUS decision today and felt that all too familiar pit in my stomach swirling with grief and rage and fear and anxiety. It is as if the thin threads of freedom protecting bodily autonomy and reproductive rights (mine and so many of others) have been slashed and burned, decimated before our very eyes. We have been reduced yet again to second class citizens.
And yet, so many BIPOC beloveds among us and in the past have been struggling in these perilous waters for a long, long time. Lifetimes. It is scary and hard and terrifying.
In my state of Idaho, abortion care will be effectively banned. This in a state that exalts individual freedom and rights at all costs. But really, it only protects it for those who fit a very narrow definition of worthiness.

My solace on this day is that I am at our Unitarian Universalist General Assembly surrounded by my people, by faithful, loving, colleagues and lay people who rage with me; who hold each other up and who are already activating in their communities. We will gather together at a local protest to hear our UU Association president among the speakers.

We will add our voices to a great cloud of faithful witnesses, interfaith clergy and leaders and lay people who represent the moral force of religion fighting to protect and advance reproductive health, choice, rights and justice.

I want you to know that we are here and we are ready to support and mobilize for anyone who needs to access abortion care. Like literally. If your state is like ours and you need support, help, (spiritual, financial or otherwise) seek out your local UU church.

Unitarian Universalists have been on the frontlines of abortion justice for decades, beginning in 1963 when our General Assembly passed the first Statement of Conscience upholding abortion rights. That resolution included these words: “WHEREAS, the laws which narrowly circumscribe or completely prohibit termination of pregnancy by qualified medical practitioners are an affront to human life and dignity.”

And since 1963 we have passed 20 statements and resolutions affirming abortion rights and reproductive justice. Roe vs. Wade found early welcome and support, forging its case in the basement of the Dallas UU Church.

Our clergy were part of the early Clergy Consultation service, pre-Roe, that supported women who needed abortions. They were not only UUs but Methodists, Baptists, UCC, Congregationalists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, and yes, even some catholics! We are everywhere and we will not stop praying for justice, access, self-determination, and our collective thriving of which abortion justice is a critical part.

For far too long, the conservative religious right has coopted the narrative of what religious freedom and family and love and health care mean or look like in our community. It is a narrative of control, of patriarchy, of white supremacy, where one’s “choice” is determined by a privileged few with little regard for lhe lived experience of those impacted by those narrow views.

I want to remind all of us, weather you are religious or not, that they do not claim the authority on religious values! Religious freedom means upholding the human and constitutional rights of all people to exercise their conscience to make their own reproductive healthcare decisions without shame and stigma.

In my tradition our Universalist theology centers on the belief that we all share the same destiny; that all are worthy of love and dignity. Full Stop. To put this in clearly religious terms, God loves people who have abortions. Full stop. God loves all people. God loves you. And if God is not your jam, please do hear that you (all of you, all our siblings and beloveds) are still held, still divine, still beautiful and holy; deeply loved and worthy, just as you are.

Reproductive choices are deeply sacred choices that honor life, honor freedom; honor dignity and religious liberty. And Abortion Justice is for all of us--for our freedom over our own bodies, our own health care, our own identities. May it be so. Amen, Amen, Amen. Say it with me: Amen, Amen, Amen!
End sermon.

We will keep fighting and keep showing up and keep loving each other into a greater vision of beloved community.

My beautiful friend Christina Boothman who I worked for at Planned Parenthood doing field work while I was in seminary, shared this beautiful poem. May we feel the words and love each other more deeply in this next part of the fight.
Poem by Nikita Gill

𝑅𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑜⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑢𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢,⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠,⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑒.⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛,⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑙𝑓,⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣
𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛.

Lent day 15- #UULent reflection word: Serenity

Oooooh that sounds so nice, doesn’t it? Serenity. It sounds ethereal and floaty and soft. As I wrap another long day with an endless to-do list in preparation for my sabbatical (T minus 6 days), serenity feels like a far away fairy land!

And frankly, the way my life operates, especially with 2 kids and a full time working spouse, serenity is not something we achieve all that often. Our culture does not encourage this pursuit (even as we might support green spaces meant to offer serenity).

All of our to-do lists are too long and rest it too scarce. The world is biking over with existential threats far beyond our control and it’s shaking us to our core. Why should we pursue serenity when others are being bombed and targeted and silenced?

Let us remember that our well-being, our serenity feeds the whole.

It may only be possible in small moments. In the next breath. In the pause between doing the dishes and falling into bed. Take it, claim it whenever you can. For me it comes in glancing at a beautiful full moon. Or taking a walk between meetings or laying on the floor with all three dogs or family movies night with popcorn and blankets. Each moment offers a chance at serenity and I add them all up until the larger stretches of serenity will do doubt present themselves.

And because I let myself practice serenity, I know it’s possible and I use it to fuel my hope of bringing it more fully into being for all people and all of creation.
​
Here is a full moon. It is offering Serenity for as long as you’ll take it. Just look up.

Lent Day 4 - #UULent reflection word: Vulnerability

Ooof. I have a love-hate relationship with vulnerability. I’ve been reflecting on what to post all day. I’ve watched Brene Brown’s vulnerability TED talk probably a hundred times. As a Minister, my work naturally places me in spaces of deep vulnerability, accompanying people and families in some of their hardest moments. It is an honor and privilege and their vulnerability in those moments is profoundly beautiful.

But, embracing vulnerability in my own life is hard, and I am not a fan. I am the kind of person with the personality that thrives on achievement. I thrive on being seen as professional and hard working, organized and smart—on her game, in control. Vulnerability is the exact opposite of that. Vulnerability is about the mess and the struggle and the uncertainty of life; about sharing your deepest fears and worries and shame and longing and doubt. It is the courage to be imperfect, and often in public.

And that is an uncomfortable and sometimes terrifying space to occupy and my first response to all of that is no f-ing way. Not it.  

So, here it goes.

Last June I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer—the “good kind” apparently (do we really use those words when talking about cancer?). I have not shared this publicly, just with a few family and friends (and my congregation which felt plenty public and vulnerable). I’m sorry that some of you I dearly love will be learning this on Facebook. The cancer was non-invasive and early stage and very treatable. But, as a result of this diagnosis, I had some genetic testing done and learned I carry the BRCA2 genetic mutation, which not only greatly increases my overall risk for breast, ovarian and a few other cancers, but drastically changed the course of treatment.

I had the first major surgery in November and a follow-up surgery just a week ago. There will likely be more surgeries in my near future which will remove even more of my parts (I am not sharing details here, vulnerability does have limits, but you can infer a lot). Before last year, I had only had one other surgery in my life (at 40 to repair a torn ACL) and my only experience in a hospital was giving birth to my kids.

Oh yeah, and all of this came about from my first-ever mammogram. That felt like a gut punch. The whole experience has been an emotional roller coaster and just hard, exhausting, scary, and full of grief. There have been moments of joy and gratitude, yes, and I have had great medical care and have been loved and cared for by so many. But that still does not erase the pain and vulnerability of it all.

I am one of the lucky ones, I know. I know. And still, I have cried tears of deep sorrow and still wrestle with so much internal emotional turmoil all in the midst of a pandemic and a world on fire.

This is my vulnerability reflection for Lent 2022. And I am quietly chanting to myself, vulnerability is courage not weakness.

Vulnerability is beautiful. Yours, too.

My photo reflection is a picture I took of my legs in the hospital after the first surgery, wrapped in the air compression thingys. And also a picture of the downtown skyline outside my hospital window at 4am.

NOTE for those who read to the end a want of offer a comment. I kindly ask, or rather beg of you, please do not begin your comment with, “At least…” it is not helpful. And, I will still love you.

Boise, ID

Good morning beloveds! I am so grateful to be with you today even as I wish we could all be together in each other’s presence on the steps of the capitol, chanting, singing, cheering, praying, joining hands and hearts in solidarity with women and allies across the country to defend our reproductive rights!

I am the Rev. Sara LaWall. I am Unitarian Universalist Minister (or UU for short) serving the Boise UU Fellowship. I am here representing a great cloud of faithful witnesses, interfaith clergy and leaders and lay people who represent the moral force of religion fighting to protect and advance reproductive health, choice, rights and justice. In fact this morning, prior to the rally in Washington DC, the day began with a faith service reflecting the many voices of people of faith longing for reproductive justice.  

But just to be really clear, I am not the only faith leader in Idaho who believes in reproductive justice and abortion rights, there are plenty of us.

Unitarian Universalists have been on the frontlines of abortion justice for decades, beginning in 1963 when our General Assembly passed the first Statement of Conscience upholding abortion rights. That resolution included these words: WHEREAS, the laws which narrowly circumscribe or completely prohibit termination of pregnancy by qualified medical practitioners are an affront to human life and dignity. And since 1963 we have passed 20 statements and resolutions affirming abortion rights and reproductive justice. Roe vs. Wade found an early welcome and support, forging its case in the basement of the Dallas UU Church.

Our clergy were part of the early Clergy Consultation service, pre Roe, that supported women who needed abortions, They were not only UUs but methodists, baptuists, UCC, congregationalists, presbyterians, Lutherans, and yes, even some catholics! We are everywhere and we will not stop praying for justice, access, self-determination, and our collective thriving of which abortion justice is a crtical part.

For far too long, the conservative religious right has coopted the narrative of what religious freedom and family and love and health care mean or look like in our community. It is a narrative of control of patriarchy of white supremacy where one’s “choice” is determined by a privileged few with little regard for lhe lived experience of those impacted by those narrow views.

I am here to remind all of you, weather you are religious or not, that they do not claim the authority on religious values! Religious freedom means upholding the human and constitutional rights of all people to exercise their conscience to make their own reproductive healthcare decisions without shame and stigma.

In my tradition our Universalist theology centers on the belief that we all share the same destiny; that all are worthy of love and dignity. Full Stop. To put this in clearly religious terms, God loves people who have abortions. Full stop. God loves all people. God loves you. And if God is not your jam, please do hear that you (all of you, all our siblings and beloveds) are still held, still divine, still beautiful and holy; deeply loved and worthy, just as you are.

I am of the generation that has grown up in the post Roe v. Wade era. I have been so thankful and so proud of this accomplishment for women by women to claim the right to choose our own reproductive path. I have been blessed to have amazing role models paving the way and breaking glass ceilings, for me and my peers to make greater strides in economic equality and freedom. And yet, I’ve also watched, alongside all of you, as our rights and our bodies are continually subjected to political maneuvering and moralizing—largely by men. Our bodies continue to be under attack every year whether it is closing clinics, requiring waiting periods and ultrasounds, or ridiculous and hurtful statements about rape, sexual orientation, and gender identity. 

When state governments seek to close planned parenthood clinics, or deputize citizens to become de-facto abortion police out of a narrow, moralistic view of “protecting life,” whose lives are left unprotected? Who is shut out when the only available low income health clinic is forced to close its doors? Those with already marginalized identities, for whom healthcare access and abortion access is already too complicated, underfunded, and often neglected alotgether. 

My colleague, the Rev. Rob Keithan, director of the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice writes, “Reproductive Justice requires us to see the bigger picture of who has access to resources and who doesn’t––and why. It calls us to understand how overlapping identities affect the lives of individuals and communities. It calls us to see the world not only through our eyes, but through the eyes of people on the margins. What does it mean to actually have a choice?” I am so honored we get to experience the fullness of that picture today.

In addition to all of these truths, perhaps one of the most important ones in my life  is that I am also here today as the proud parent of a trans youth. I have witnessed first hand the critical value of health care rooted in an ethic of freedom, personal choice, health, safety and above all love. And I am indebted to the healthcare professionals supporting my daughter to live her best, most authentic, healthy life. 

Reproductive choices are deeply sacred choices that honor life, honor freedom; honor dignity and religious liberty. And Abortion justice is for all of us--for our freedom over our own bodies, our own health care, our own identities. May it be so. Amen, Amen, Amen. Say it with me: Amen, Amen, Amen! 

Thank you and bless you all!