Remembering Dr. Jane Goodall (1934–2025)

“Each one of us matters, has a role to play, and makes a difference. Each one of us must take responsibility for our own lives, and above all, show respect and love for living things around us, especially each other.”

― Jane Goodall, Reason for Hope: A Spiritual Journey

Jane Goodall was one of my childhood heroes. A funny fact about me: because of Jane, as a young child, I used to collect stuffed animal monkeys. I probably had 30 or 40 of them!

Dr. Jane became known around the world for her 65-year study of wild chimpanzees in Gombe, Tanzania. In 1960, she made the groundbreaking discovery that chimpanzees not only use but also create tools. She observed them stripping the leaves off twigs to “fish” for termites. This is significant, because at the time, science held the belief that tool-making was uniquely human. Her discovery fundamentally redefined what it meant to be human and helped widened our understanding of the connections and similarities we had to all of God's creation.

But Jane showed us much more than tool use. She revealed that chimpanzees express emotions such as grief, joy, rage, and reconciliation. Through her work, she forced us to re-examine many of the definitions that were linked to humans alone, such has intelligence, morality, and meaningful relationships. She awakened us to the urgent need to protect chimpanzees, along with countless other species and ecosystems, from extinction.

What made her so inspiring was not only her brilliance, but also her way of connecting with and respecting all creatures. She reminded us that every living being is worthy of compassion, care, and respect. For many of us, she sparked a lifelong love of animals and nature. She helped us realize we are still only beginning to get a glimpse at the vast intelligence, beauty, and mystery held by the living world. Sometimes we just need to take the time to look with love and curiosity to discover what has been there all along. Paying attention and not looking away are forms of activism in of themself.

So today, as we remember and honor Dr. Jane Goodall, I find myself asking: How are we called to be stewards of this Earth? How can we continue to learn to see every living thing as part of the greater family to which we all belong? How do we remember that there isn’t a day that goes by where we do not have an impact on this planet?

So let us remember that each of us, ourselves included, has the power to shape the future we long for. We are ones we have been waiting for. We must care for all living things. We must believe that the greatest and most loving discoveries of our world are still ahead of us. And these discoveries that will come if we continue to look with curiosity, humility, and care.

Rest in power, Jane. Thank you for showing us another way of living and being. Thank you for showing us your love.

With love,
Pastor Eli

Angel of the Get Through - Andrea Gibson

August 13, 1975 – July 14, 2025

Best friend, this is what we do.
We gather each other up.
We say “The cup is half
yours and half mine.”
We say, “Alone is the last place you will ever be.”

On Monday, the world lost one of its fiercest hearts. Andrea Gibson (they/them)—beloved poet, activist, truth-teller—passed away, and the grief that followed was not quiet. It bloomed loudly, openly, in shared poems and stories, in whispered thanks and loud declarations. Queer and trans communities across the globe have gathered to mourn, to honor, and to celebrate the life and legacy of someone who gave voice to what so many of us were never sure we were allowed to say out loud.

For so many of us, Andrea’s words were the first ones that told us we weren’t broken. That being queer, trans, tender-hearted, or feeling deeply wasn’t something to hide, but something holy and something to be cherished. Their poems didn’t flinch from pain. They reached into the pain and pulled out something honest, beautiful, and deeply human.

Andrea taught me, how to live largely and love loudly. Their poetry gave permission to take up space, to feel too much, to cry in public, to dance alone in the kitchen, to love your friends and community so fiercely you can’t help but say it out loud. They showed us that vulnerability is a true kind of strength, and that community is also built through many soft moments. The soft moments that show up through shared meals, laughter, and on quiet nights when someone stays on the phone with you when you need it the most.

We build Beloved Community as daily practice. We text our friends to remind them we love them, or even pick up the phone to call them and let them know. We show up with soup when someone is sick. We forgive each other’s small (and sometimes large) failings. We create art that helps someone feel less alone, that helps our own bodies feel less alone. We organize, we listen, and we build safe havens where people can show up authentically.

We remind ourselves that Beloved Community isn’t a utopia. It’s messy and real and human. It’s built through daily care and collective responsibility. It’s the chosen family that shows up. It’s the refusal to let anyone disappear into loneliness.

So, in honor of our Beloved Andrea, we keep going, not alone, but gathered up saying the cup is half yours, and half mine. Alone is the last place you will ever be.

I say, let us hold each other a little closer. Let us keep building a world where no one has to hide, no one has to go it alone, and love is always loud.

Rest in power, Andrea. Thank you for showing us a way.

With Love,
Pastor Eli