Dear Friends,
I visited our remote camp in Central Pennsylvania last week, and, on one lone afternoon, a raven visited me. As I sat reading by the fire, the raven slowly circled the second row of trees just beyond the clearing. It circled three times before leaving with another who had remained high above. The raven came so close that I could hear the sounds of its wings and its clattering bill. The presence of that raven felt like a visitation, a blessing, the raven as curious about me as I was about it.

Our Seven Principles call us to see each person as inherently worthy and dignified, and to feel our complete interdependence with each other and with all other beings. We are called to peace and liberty, to equity and compassion, to justice among individuals and in a world of nations. We are called to the free and responsible search for truth and meaning, to exercise both our conscience and our ability to create inclusive spaces. And, we are called to accept each other and encourage spiritual growth in
each other and amongst our congregations.

As that raven flapped around me, I felt myself becoming more open-hearted and more whole. In that moment, I felt spiritual growth in myself. This last year has been a time of pain and challenge, and it is not over yet. So many lives have been lost in this country and across the world because of disease mismanaged. To not have been touched personally by the disease is a sign of privilege—of coming from the types of communities with options to physically distance and work from home, with resources of money and health care to stave off disease—and this truth needs to be humbly acknowledged. Systemic oppression is on trial and in action, with certain kinds of bodies—specifically the bodies of Black men—viewed as inherently dangerous and killable with impunity. Isolation from our communities of support—Fellowship life and fond friends and family—leads to sadness and sometimes despair, despite all our efforts to mitigate the separation and loneliness. This last year has been a time of pain and
challenge, and it is not over yet. But pain and challenge are really never over, and what we can do it connect to what helps us become more open-hearted and more whole, both sorrow and joy real in our lives.

May you find the sources of growth for yourselves. May you share those sources joyfully with this religious community, as you remember, today and every day, that you are loved, you are worthy, you are welcome, and you are needed. May you feel it so, and may it be so.

Blessings, Rev. Rita