One morning, I sat in our tiny apartment kitchen lamenting over a bowl of oatmeal how un-Unitarian I was, when Matthew said, “Just come with me to St. Paul’s on Sunday. It doesn’t suck, I promise. Plus you’ll love Pastor Ross; he’s gay.” I relented, but only because the pastor was gay, and I hoped that meant some flamboyance and dramatics. As Matthew drove us the following Sunday to St. Paul Lutheran Church in Oakland,
