As I write this, I am at the Institute for the Learning Ministry, a conference for UU faith leaders (ministers, religious education professionals or music directors) held once every three to four years. Travelling here yesterday, I met Rachel at the airport in Grand Rapids—she’s the minister of People’s Church in Kalamazoo; connecting in Denver we joined several more colleagues on the last leg of the journey to Albuquerque. Hundreds of us gathered last night, with more arriving today; many of my colleagues are from Minneapolis and many more were there for the massive and successful resistance actions just a few days ago.
At the worship service this morning the song leader said that in the Christian tradition, there is a special word that signifies the good news contained in the gospel: Alleluia. And that we in Unitarian Universalism have our own good news to proclaim: that all are loved and holy, with inherent worth and dignity that no one can take away; and that we have the power—collectively--to create more love, kindness and justice in this world. He then taught us his version of Alleluia. As he continued to speak, he would periodically stop and we all would sing Alleluia as a refrain.

During one of these moments of song, I looked around the room at my fellow UU’s singing and swaying, some with hands raised in witness and prayer. The extreme crisis of this moment in American history--with masked government agents committing extrajudicial killings and abductions with seeming impunity on the streets of our cities--was in my mind and on my heart. I knew that many in this room were among the clergy called to Minneapolis last week, that they have not even had time to process that experience fully, and that we will collectively respond to the call again. And all in a flash of awareness, I had two thoughts. The first was: are we the ones who can change the world and win this fight? I want to believe that we are, that Unitarian Universalists and Unitarian Universalist clergy can be effective and transformational leaders in this critical moment. Seeing my people singing Alleluia, the second thought flashed through my head: Yes we are. Our passion and love make us powerful.

The spiritual leaders of our religion—ministers, religious educators and musicians—are collectively a little younger than the congregations they serve…and
 
a little more racially diverse, and a little more queer. Some ministers have brought their babies to Albuquerque; brown and Black ministers are leading worship; gay, lesbian and transgender ministers are out and proud here. What I felt in that emotional moment of song during worship is the power that we have; the dedication and urgency we bring to this work; and the commitment to including everyone in the liberated, safe beloved community we are creating. But it’s not just us.

Rev. Rachel from Kalamazoo said something to me last week, in the context of the massive clergy call to Minneapolis, that came back to me this morning: it’s not just about the ministers. Yes, clergy have a particular authority and power in our congregations and in society at large. But at this turning point in American history, all people are needed. I imagine a parallel gathering, similar to the hundreds of UU’s in worship here—a gathering of union leaders who have decided enough is enough, and it’s time to take back power. I imagine a group of educators, saying The abduction of our children has to stop. We will not allow it any more.
Hundreds of UU clergy singing Alleluia is a powerful thing: we are connected, we are all working for safety and justice grounded in love. And we are arm in arm with other faith leaders; with political leaders; with mothers and fathers; with teachers and nurses; with roofers and housecleaners. Together may we sing Alleluia for the good news that all are loved and holy; that all people belong at the table of love, abundance, and community. May it be so.

PRAYER:
Spirit of Life and Love, may all people of good conscience find their way to this resistance: may we speak and act, protest and march; may we support and strengthen one another.
May we move forward with confidence that we can create a world of greater love, starting where we are tending our communities.
With hope and love I join my voice and my intention with my fellow Unitarian Universalists. May we all do what we can, where we can, for the greater good.
Blessed be.

Rev. Drew Frantz January 27, 2026

Last Friday (January 16) a call went out, seen in my social media and my email in-box: clergy are called to come to Minneapolis for a day of action and protest this Friday (January 23). The organizers explicitly linked this call to Martin Luther King, saying: MLK called ministers to Selma. We are calling you to Minneapolis.
 
Ministers use the word “discernment” to mean figuring out something important within ourselves. We speak of “discerning a call to ministry,” for instance. This situation required deep discernment for me. Although I knew this was exactly the kind of action that I have always seen as central to my work as a minister, there were a lot of reasons NOT to go: a long journey on a few days notice, in the middle of a regular work week when I have obligations here; the uncertainty of what the action and its effectiveness might be; and the real danger of arrest, injury, or mistreatment by the ICE agents.
 
I had deep and tearful conversations with my wife about going. I talked to my siblings about it. I checked in with other UU ministers in Michigan. I watched the webinar from the organizers that spelled out some of the risks. Most importantly, I turned to prayer. In my mind, I had the reasons for and against going—but this was not a logical decision, it was a spiritual discernment. As I connected with my sense of purpose and calling as a minister, the decision became clear: I was ready to go in spite of my fears. When I told Norma and Guy, the president and vice-president of our Board, they were both enthusiastically supportive.
 
Unfortunately, after all that, I am not going.
 
Hours after I filled out the registration form, the organizers informed me that they are at the maximum capacity for this event. Wisely, they are doing a whole day of training on Thursday before the march on Friday. They want to be organized for maximum effectiveness and safety, and they have a limit to how many people they can include. The response from clergy--willing to travel to Minnesota for an outdoor march during a cold snap in January—literally overwhelmed the organizers. This is very good news for the movement.
 
And it is sad for me not to join them. In my constant following of the news, I often feel helpless to do anything—and this felt like a chance to be involved in something meaningful. Still, the process of discernment gave me clarity about my own feelings, and gave me a chance to check in with my loved ones. In these times, it is wise for all of us to think about what we are willing and able to do, so that we can be ready when the time comes. I will be home in Michigan for this round of protest, connected in spirit to my colleagues in downtown Minneapolis. And I will continue to do the work of love and justice here: building community, offering compassion, inviting healing.
 
PRAYER:
May I be grounded in the work I can do, in the place that I am, Precious and Immense Spirit.
May I meet each day with energy and intention.
May I be connected to loved ones near and far.
May I do what I can for greater love and peace in the world.
May it be so.
 
Rev. Drew Frantz
January 20, 2026

The death of Renee Good this week, shot at the wheel of her own car by an ICE agent, feels like a turning point in the story of our country. It represents a whole new level of violence on the part of government agents, and a new level of danger for protesters and bystanders. This event certainly calls for protest and outrage and mourning—which is what we did on Saturday at the weekly Indivisible protest. In addition to marching with our signs as usual, we had a ceremonial coffin for Renee Good with flowers and candles. It gave us an outlet for our rage and grief.
 
Connected to the call for action is a need to take care of ourselves. As my therapist pointed out to me yesterday, watching the videos of this horrific violence (as I have done many times this week) is traumatizing. It is an individual trauma for each of us watching it, and a group trauma for our society. It is wise for us to notice what happens in our bodies when we view those videos, which may follow one of the classic trauma responses: fight, flight, freeze, fawn, or flop. Once we notice our own body and emotional response, then we need take care of ourselves accordingly: maybe we need exercise, or sleep, or a hug, or some time in nature. Self-awareness and self-care are crucial for all of us in this moment.
 
As we take care of ourselves, then we can proceed to the best response to this event—the best form of resisting and repairing. My colleague Nicole offers this wisdom:
If hope is a discipline, then spiritual practice is how we cultivate that discipline. Our practices—how we breathe, how we gather, how we move, how we discern—shape who we become and what we can build together. They determine whether we can sustain the work, remain faithful to one another, and keep returning to love when the world tries to corrode our spirits.
-Nicole Pressley, leader of the UUA’s “Side with Love” program, announcing the start of their annual 30 Days of Love campaign
 
For me, the clearest truth is that I need to be with others as I process the trauma of Renee Good’s death and the challenge of responding to it. Watching the videos alone in my home last week I felt despair; being at the Indivisible protest on Saturday I felt connected; singing “We Shall Not Be Moved” in worship on Sunday I felt joy and hope. We may not stop bad things from happening in the world, but we have one another.
 
PRAYER:
May there be peace and quiet in the streets of Minneapolis and St. Paul tonight.
May human compassion break through to the ICE agents flooding our cities—and to those who support, defend, and fund them.
May the good people of this nation find the courage and strength needed to resist and repair in the face of destructive words and actions. May we find one another and each take our place in the movement for a world of greater love and safety—for every human being on the planet.
May it be so.
 
Rev. Drew Frantz
January 13, 2026