These stunningly tender young people

Dear First Universalist Church,

A few weeks ago, I had the absolute privilege of leading our First Universalist Boston Pilgrimage. Our group of 17 high schoolers and five adult Advisors—including myself and Rev. Jen—spent five days in the Boston area exploring Unitarian, Universalist, Transcendentalist, and Unitarian Universalist history. We visited many of our shared sacred sites, including multiple UU congregations, Harvard Divinity School, and Walden Pond. We learned and laughed together; we created elaborate Spotify queues in crowded vans; and we ate a LOT of pizza. And this Sunday, dear ones, these incredible youth are leading us in a worship service reflecting on their Pilgrimage experience. 

I know not all of you are able to spend as much time with young folks as I do. That gap in relationship might tempt you to believe rumors you hear about them. You might start to believe that they are addicted to their phones, that they don’t care about anyone other than themselves, and that they aren’t capable of deep thought or genuine relationships.

Here’s what I want you to know: those are lies. Those lies are manufactured by people with power (who are actually shallow and selfish) in an attempt to turn us against each other, on purpose. Those lies are designed to prevent us from building unstoppable intergenerational communities of care and connection. Those lies are a last-ditch effort to convince you, somehow, that these kids aren’t invested in a shared dream of a better world.

But I know better. I’ve read their poetry. I’ve seen their photographs. I’ve heard their questions. I’ve watched these and other youth in our congregation support each other fiercely through big stuff: broken bones, mental health challenges, heartbreak, identity crisis, bullying, family dynamics, racist encounters, death and diagnosis of loved ones, and more. 

Throughout our Pilgrimage, these kids went out of their way to include each other. They shared absolutely brilliant and moving insights. They blasted music I’ve never heard of at an astonishing decibel level and they can all sing the entire Hamilton soundtrack. They shared the last onion rings—without being asked. They spent their free time petting horses and feeding chickens and playing chess and asking each other their biggest, deepest questions. When I realized I had forgotten all the cash we had promised them for a free afternoon, they were overwhelmingly kind and gracious and gave me big hugs as we pivoted. They might not be able to keep their seatbelts buckled for more than ten minutes at a time, but they also can’t stop telling each other how much they love each other. Honestly? I don’t know enough adults who do the same.

And so, my dear ones: Don’t fall for it. Don’t let billionaires and AI influencers convince you that you have nothing in common with these stunningly tender young people. When in fact, our souls are mirrors of the same God. When in fact, our liberation is inseparable.

And so, my dear ones: Don’t fall for it. Don’t let billionaires and AI influencers convince you that you have nothing in common with these stunningly tender young people. When in fact, our souls are mirrors of the same God. When in fact, our liberation is inseparable.

This Sunday, our Boston Pilgrimage youth and Advisors are leading worship for our entire congregation. Join us to experience the Pilgrimage—and our shared faith—from their perspective. Join us to remember: we are connected, deeply, always. 

See you in church,

Allison