It's Been A Minute
It has been a while since I last wrote here. The last post on this blog is my sermon from September 14th. I know there are missing pieces between then and now. I still intend, someday, to go back and fill in the sermons and reflect more fully on my final months at UUCE. Those pieces matter to me, and I do want them to exist in this space eventually.
But right now, it feels more honest to begin again from where I actually am rather than forcing myself to walk back through paths I am not yet ready to revisit. I would rather wait until I can write about them with care than try to document them simply for the sake of completeness.
So instead of finishing the archive first, I am starting here, in the present.
Over the past few months a number of people from UUCE have reached out to ask how I am doing and what I have been up to. I want to start by saying that I genuinely appreciate that care. It means a great deal to know that people are still curious about my life and work.
At the same time, I also want to be transparent about something that may be difficult to hear. I am not in a place where I can return to UUCE any time soon, and it is possible that I may never return in any formal capacity. My departure happened early and in the middle of a painful period of turmoil, and I understand that my leaving created wounds for both of us.
Because of that, the healthiest thing for me right now is distance. Not distance rooted in resentment, but distance that allows space for healing and reflection. Communities need time to recover from moments like that, and so do the people within them. I remain grateful for many of the relationships and lessons that came from my time at UUCE, but I also recognize that trying to step back into that space too quickly would not serve anyone well.
Sometimes care for a community means knowing when you need to step away from it.
So where am I now?
Right now I am attending United Theological Seminary in the Twin Cities, where I am pursuing a Master of Divinity with a focus in interfaith chaplaincy. My focus within the program is chaplaincy, which is a form of ministry centered on accompaniment rather than leadership.
In my first unit of Clinical Pastoral Education, I learned that chaplaincy often begins with silence. Sitting beside someone whose life had just changed in a single afternoon, I realized how little people want explanations in those moments. They do not need a theology lecture. What they want is someone willing to stay.
That willingness to remain present, even when there are no clear answers, has become one of the central disciplines of this work.
Alongside seminary, I am currently still based in Eugene and continuing my work as a movement chaplain. Protest spaces are emotionally intense environments. People arrive carrying anger, fear, hope, exhaustion, and determination all at once. A chaplain’s role in those spaces is often very simple, to the point that for many, they are invisible. Being present in those spaces has deepened my understanding of solidarity. It is one thing to believe in justice. It is another thing entirely to show up consistently in places where people are struggling, organizing, and trying to build something better together.
Many of the traditions that shape my spiritual life do not separate spiritual care from embodied experience. They recognize that people carry grief, fear, and hope not only in their thoughts but in their bodies and relationships. Learning to pay attention to those layers has shaped how I approach ministry.
This season of my life is also a time of rebuilding and re-rooting. Some of the paths I once expected to follow have shifted, but new directions are beginning to take shape.
One of the communities that continues to influence my thinking is the American Humanist Association. Humanism’s commitment to human dignity, ethical responsibility, and community without reliance on supernatural belief has long resonated with me and continues to shape how I think about justice and responsibility in the world. I am also exploring deeper connection with Sacred Well Congregation, a contemporary Pagan community that focuses on spiritual formation and clergy development within earth-centered traditions. That work speaks to a part of my spiritual identity that has often existed alongside, but not always fully within, traditional ministry settings. In addition, I remain committed to the work I began with Cherry Hill Seminary.
Pluralism is not simply an abstract concept in my life. It is the ground on which my ministry stands. My formation draws from Unitarian Universalism, Humanism, Pagan practice, and a wide range of interfaith influences. Rather than trying to collapse those traditions into a single framework, I have come to understand my work as living at the intersections between them.
Through all of these changes, one thing has become clearer to me: I want to be part of expanding what chaplaincy can look like and who is recognized as a spiritual caregiver. Too often, spiritual authority has been confined to a narrow set of traditions and identities. I want to help build a future where people from pluralistic, marginalized, and unconventional spiritual paths are also recognized as legitimate sources of care and wisdom.
This blog will likely change along with me. In the past it mostly functioned as a place to archive sermons. Going forward, I expect it will become more of a space for reflection on seminary, chaplaincy, pluralist theology, and the complicated work of trying to build beloved community in the world as it currently exists.
If you have been reading this blog for a long time, thank you for your patience while it was quiet. If you are arriving here for the first time, welcome.
This chapter of my life is still unfolding, and I do not yet know exactly where it will lead. But beginning again rarely requires certainty. It only requires the willingness to start from wherever you happen to be standing.

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