My husband was raised UU.  Our children are being raised UU.  Ours is a UU household.

Until recently, I did not realize how essential my own non-Unitarian Universalist heritage was for my formation in faith.

My mother grew up in the part of Eastern Kentucky where the sun struggled to reach the ground; so thick were the woods, so folded were the hills. It seemed to me that there was a Baptist church every few feet.  Southern.  Primitive. Old Regular. And just plain Regular.   

My father grew up in Iran, which was a lovely place to live until religion ate the country.  It is still more or less lovely, but no one can say it hasn’t changed dramatically since 1979’s Islamic Revolution. 

My flip joke has often been that Unitarian Universalism is the natural destination for a kid with a Baptist/Moslem background.  What I meant was implicitly theological – a faith that is universally affirming of humanity will include those of us who are between cultures.

But I realized last week that my every early encounter with the faith was because of my ethnic identity.  Where do you go when your half-immigrant family needs to look more American, or get married, or buried?  Where do you find friends whose faith doesn’t condemn you or parts of your family to hell?  Where do you find a community that defaults to (at least trying) respecting your cultural identity?

Many of the families I knew who were half-and-half like mine were familiar with the UU church.  It is no wonder that growing up I thought UUs were as common as Methodists. 

(We are not.)

So, to my fellow UUs or anyone wanting to know more about the faith, when we talk about our congregation doing to work of ending racist cultural expectations, practices and assumptions, know that we are starting with some good building blocks.

 We are the ones who welcome the stranger and the exile.  We are the ones who listen to the story of the journey. We are the ones who believe in grace, and grace again. 

Sure, other churches might also do so, but I know UUs live into the promise of wide welcome and beloved community.

I know this is true because I am here and have been, in one way or another, since the Revolution.

I am here because I am Iranian-American.

Funny, I always thought it was a theological choice.  Then again, maybe I am evidence of the way we live our theology.