The Holy Rage of Mary: An Easter Ritual in Parts

There is a little ceramic chalice that lives on my bookshelf. It is small and unassuming, the kind of item a visitor might overlook if they were not searching for it. But I know it is there. I have carried it with me through every move, through heartbreak and healing, through milestones and transitions. It has been with me in moments of celebration and in moments of quiet grief. That chalice was placed into my hands during my bridging ceremony, the ritual that marked my passage from Unitarian Universalist youth into young adulthood. At the time, I understood it as a moment of graduation, a simple rite of passage, a ceremonial goodbye to one chapter and a welcome to another. What I did not yet grasp was the deep spiritual grounding it would offer me in the years to come. That chalice has become more than a symbol; it is a reminder of belonging, of sacred continuity, and of the courage to keep becoming.

I was raised in a Unitarian Universalist congregation, and I hold that upbringing with both deep gratitude and a tender kind of ache. Growing up weird was never easy. I was queer, neurodivergent, spiritually curious, and always full of questions that others sometimes found uncomfortable. I was the kid who cried during tree-planting ceremonies and tried to explain moral paradoxes on the playground. The world around me did not always know what to do with that kind of child. But in my congregation, I was not asked to hide who I was. I was allowed to wonder and to imagine a world that could hold many truths. That said, no community is perfect. There were moments when I was quieted, when I was asked to shrink, when the discomfort of my difference prompted correction. But even in those moments, I was never made to feel unworthy. The guidance I received may have shaped my behavior, but it did not attempt to take my inherent worth.

In my twenties, I took a break from Unitarian Universalist spaces. It was not a dramatic departure but more of a quiet drifting. Life carried me into different communities and different forms of exploration, and I needed time to question what I truly believed. I tried on other spiritual identities and sat in other circles, always searching for a space that could hold my whole self. I never stopped being Unitarian Universalist at heart, but I did stop naming it aloud for a while. Eventually, the call to return grew louder. Not because I wanted to go back to where I had been, but because I realized how deeply I wanted to grow forward within a faith that could hold complexity. The language of covenant, of shared values, and of justice-rooted love called me home. That return became a call to ministry, and now I find myself serving the same tradition that once raised me.

And now I stand here as a ministerial intern, watching three of our youth cross that same threshold I once crossed. I see them standing at the edge of childhood, not as people leaving us behind, but as people stepping more deeply into our shared life. In their faces I see echoes of my own journey, but I also see something beautifully new. I see the awkwardness, the brilliance, the uncertainty, and the quiet power that they already carry. I see their questions and their wisdom, both still forming and already whole. Most importantly, I see them not as future leaders or someday adults, but as full people right now. I see what I once needed someone to see in me. And I want them to know this: you do not need to become someone else to be worthy of belonging. You already belong.

Bridging is not the end of anything. It is one more flame placed in your care. I still have mine, and it continues to light the path before me. Your chalice may take different forms in your life, but its meaning will travel with you. Carry it however feels true to you, and trust that its flame will not go out. I know it is hard to center hope in the world we are living in. I know that many of us carry climate grief, fear, and frustration that feel too heavy to name. I know how difficult it is to imagine a future when the present feels uncertain and unjust. But even in the midst of all that weight, there is still light. That light is not about denial. It is about choosing to care deeply, even when it hurts.

We choose hope not because it is easy or comforting, but because it connects us to one another. We choose hope as a practice, as a form of resistance, as a way of keeping the flame alive. We choose hope because giving up does not heal anyone, and despair does not build the world we long for. In community, we remind each other that transformation is still possible. We show up for each other even when we are tired, and that is hope in motion. We choose to bless one another, not with empty promises, but with real presence. We say yes to the future, not because it is guaranteed, but because it is ours to shape together. The light we carry is shared and sustained in relationship. That is how we begin again.

To the three youth who bridged today: may your questions remain bold and your boundaries remain sacred. May your light be enough to guide you, and never so bright that it blinds you to others. May you find community in places expected and unexpected, and may you know that you are never alone. You are not leaving us. You are shifting your place within us. You are not becoming someone new. You are becoming more fully yourself. We see you, we bless you, and we walk with you. With this light, we continue forward. Together.

Bridging blessing, 6/8/25

Bridging: 

I would like to welcome our bridging youth to the front.

Welcome, youth. Welcome to this circle that has held you. Welcome to this moment of transformation.

Today we gather to mark a sacred threshold. We are here to witness and celebrate the bridging of our youth into young adulthood. We come together to name the growth, courage, and deepening wisdom of those who stand before us, and to acknowledge the shifting nature of their place within our community. They have long been held within the circle of our care. Today, they step more fully into it as co-creators.

We invite our younger youth to come stand on the South side of the bridge: 

You have journeyed alongside these bridging youth through many seasons. Your laughter, questions, support, and friendship have helped shape the people they are becoming. As they move forward, your part in their story does not end. You remain part of the path beneath their feet.

We now invite our young adults to gather on the North side of the bridge: 

You who have already crossed into this new terrain of life, we ask you to widen the circle. Make space for those who now walk beside you as peers and companions in the shared work of growing, seeking, and becoming.

Now I invite the bridging youth to come forward.

To you who are bridging: receive these gifts as symbols of this moment: 

Choose a chalice to carry with you, either a small one for travel or a larger one for your home. Let it be a reminder that your light belongs in every space you enter. Receive also this chalice pendant, a sign of your connection to our larger Unitarian Universalist tradition and the living flame that connects us across time and distance. May these gifts remind you that you carry the love of this community with you, wherever you go.

We celebrate you today not for who you might become someday, but for who you already are, whole, complex, thoughtful, courageous, and beloved. You are not stepping out of our circle. You are simply shifting your place within it, moving into new roles, new responsibilities, and new ways of belonging. The world is so heavy with uncertainty, injustice, and grief. And still, we choose hope. We choose love. We choose each other. You do not walk this path alone. We walk it together, carrying the light forward, one step at a time.

And so, with open hearts and outstretched hands, we bless you. Step forward with courage. Step forward with curiosity. Step forward with the knowledge that you belong, and that your presence matters (youth cross the bridge).

Welcome, young adults. Welcome to the circle that you are within. Welcome to the path ahead.