Retrospect – The UU and Me
By Kevin J. W. Driscoll (c) 2025
My journey to the Unitarian Universalist church wasn’t exactly a pilgrimage. More like a reluctant trudge, propelled by equal parts metaphysical dread and my mother’s nagging. She always said I needed “spiritual enrichment,” a phrase that conjured images of beige casseroles and earnest conversations about the meaning of life, none of which sounded particularly enriching.
So, there I was, a bright-eyed (read: cynical) thirty-something, navigating the minefield of downtown Quincy on a Sunday morning while on my way to Starbucks. The church, a stately edifice across from City Hall, looked less like a sanctuary and more like a fortress of respectability. And then I saw them.
The protesters.
Not your garden-variety “honk if you love Jesus” types. These folks were serious. Armed with Old Testament verses and megaphones the size of small children, they were laying down the law, or rather, the fire and brimstone. Their target? The rainbow flag fluttering proudly beside the American flag, a beacon of inclusivity in a world that often seemed determined to exclude.
Now, I wasn’t particularly invested in the whole gay marriage debate at the time. My own love life consisted mostly of awkward encounters and unrequited crushes on women of my own age. But something about the sheer vitriol of the protesters struck me as…off. Like a really badly tuned instrument in a symphony of human existence.
Their pronouncements boomed across the street, a cacophony of condemnation. “Sodom and Gomorrah!” they bellowed, as if Quincy was about to be smited by a vengeful deity for the crime of…well, I wasn’t entirely sure what the crime was. Loving someone? Being yourself? Wearing colorful socks?
I paused, a strange mix of amusement and unease swirling within me. It was like witnessing a divine comedy, complete with its own chorus of judgmental angels (or at least, people who thought they were). And then, a thought occurred to me: if these were the gatekeepers of righteousness, then maybe righteousness needed a serious software update.
**
I slipped into the church, slightly late and feeling like I’d just crossed a border into a parallel universe. Inside, the atmosphere was…well, it was nice. Pleasantly bland, like a decaffeinated latte. The service was underway, and the minister, a woman with a warm smile and a surprisingly good sense of humor, was talking about the importance of…wait for it…critical thinking.
Critical thinking! In church! It was like discovering that your dentist also offered stand-up comedy on Tuesdays. Intrigued, I listened. She spoke about questioning assumptions, about seeking truth beyond dogma, about the inherent worth and dignity of every human being. No fire and brimstone, no threats of eternal damnation. Just…reason. And compassion.
It was a revelation. Not a blinding flash of spiritual enlightenment, but a slow dawning, like finally understanding a complex math problem. The protesters outside, with their rigid interpretations and their pronouncements of hate, suddenly seemed less like agents of divine wrath and more like…well, like people who hadn’t yet discovered the joys of Google.
Because let’s face it, in the age of information, blind faith is just lazy thinking and blind ignorance. It’s choosing to remain in the dark when the light switch is right there. And the UU church, I realized, wasn’t offering me a pre-packaged answer to all of life’s questions. They were offering me something far more valuable: the tools to ask my own questions.
So, I joined. Not because I suddenly became a devout believer in…anything, really. But because I found a community of people who were willing to wrestle with the big questions, who valued reason and compassion, and who understood that sometimes, the most spiritual thing you can do is laugh at the absurdity of it all. And maybe, just maybe, fly a rainbow flag while you’re at it.
–30–
Kevin Driscoll(Mostly) Vegetarian, Politically Progressive, Daily Runner, Spiritual, Helpful, Friendly, Kind, Warm Hearted and Forgiving. Resident of Braintree MA.
