Gloria Steinem Goes to Seminary

by Dr. Kristina Campbell

The year was 1971, and there were four women at United Theological Seminary of the Twin Cities:  one in the graduating class, one in the class ahead of us, and two in our class.  Gloria Steinem was talking about outrageous acts and everyday rebellions, and the religious community was about to experience both. 

Church ladies had a long history in the worship community, and were designated to roles of potluck cooking, rummage sales, maybe singing in the choir, and above all, supporting their husbands—especially if their husbands were pastors. 

Then along came a voice like Gloria Steinem.  She was no slouch having graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Smith College, and educated about nonviolent protest and grassroots activism while living in India.  Many of us were both astounded and delighted to read about the emergence of second wave feminism presented in Ms. Magazine, and we were ready to put some of Gloria’s ideas into action. 

I decided to start a Consciousness Raising Group at United.  Because there were so few women students, the group was open to seminary employees, wives of students and wives of faculty.  There was representation of all aspects of the seminary community.  We met weekly and shared our hopes and dreams, our wounds, and our life stories.  We wanted the seminary community to make some changes.  We requested time to speak at a faculty meeting.  Words cannot express the shock and surprise on the faculty faces when they were confronted not only with students and employees, but with their own wives!  We wanted a women’s bathroom (there was none) with a Tampax machine (how outrageous!).  Student wives wanted to make it clear that they were not to be viewed as free church labor.  Faculty wives wanted to drop the role of “Mrs.” and be viewed as full human beings…not simply as appendages.  We wanted female professors (there were none), and we wanted to read and study female theologians.  Most of all, we wanted to be heard. 

It is said that Gloria Steinem’s greatest skill was making people feel seen and heard.  This is a critical pastoral skill.  She also wanted people to feel free to be their truest selves, and this is essential to a calling to ministry.  Gloria’s final book is entitled The Truth Will Set You Free But First It Will Piss You Off, and that is an apt description of the Gospel. 

I continue to be inspired by Gloria Steinem, and now adhere to her philosophy of aging:  “My role as an older person is to remind us how far we have come, and with age comes the responsibility to keep learning.”  And learn we will. 

From the bottom of my heart, I thank you Gloria Steinem.  Well done, good and faithful servant, well done. 

Good Grief! You’ve Changed!

by Rev. Paul Whitlock, Senior Pastor, The Church of the Palms UCC

You likely remember the exact moment the world shifted—the devastating phone call, the quiet hospital room, the empty chair at dinner, or the text you dreaded ever receiving. It is the overwhelming silence that hits when a person who defined your daily life suddenly exists only in your memory. It’s a common story at The Palms.

Most people view grief as a purely emotional arc: you weep, you ache, you miss them, and eventually, time mends the heart. Neuroscience, however, reveals a far more complex biological reality. Deep loss doesn’t just trigger sadness; it fundamentally alters your brain’s structure and function. It reshapes your memories, skews your perception of time, shifts your identity, and rewires how you forecast the future. You aren’t just mourning a person— your brain is forcibly attempting to construct a new reality where they no longer exist, permanently altering who you are in the process.

Psychologists refer to one of grief’s most painful aspects as the “continuing bond.” While your logical mind understands they are gone, your emotional brain has not updated its map of reality. You still reflexively reach for your phone to text them or expect to hear their voice when good news breaks.

This happens because the brain builds loved ones directly into its internal prediction network. Over time, your brain learns:

  • When I need support, I go to them.
  • When something exciting happens, I share it with them.
  • When life is difficult, they are my anchor.

They become built into your brain’s core emotional architecture. When they disappear, your neural network experiences a systemic failure—the world your brain constantly prepares for no longer exists.

Grief is far more than an abstract feeling. Neuroimaging reveals that the pain of social rejection and profound loss activates the same brain regions as physical injury. This is why grieving individuals frequently experience phantom physical symptoms:

  • Deep body aches and chronic pain
  • Persistent exhaustion and lethargy
  • Severe brain fog and inability to focus
  • A disorienting loss of self

In a literal sense, your brain is treating loss as a physical trauma, desperately trying to adapt to an unrecognizable environment.

After a loss, memories often become hyper-vivid. You might suddenly recall the exact cadence of their laugh, their subtle habits, or mundane moments that now feel invaluable.

This occurs because the hippocampus—the brain’s memory hub—works alongside emotional centers to preserve connections to vital people. The deeper the bond, the stronger the underlying neural pathways. Losing someone close doesn’t feel like losing information; it feels like losing a piece of your personal history, because part of your brain’s timeline was built directly around them.

When a loved one dies, you don’t just lose them—you lose the specific version of yourself that existed alongside them. Relationships don’t just link two people; they form distinct identities. You manifest differently with a childhood friend than with a colleague or parent.

When a key relationship ends, your brain must reorganize its fundamental sense of self.

Psychologists call this “identity reconstruction.” You are not just learning to navigate life without someone; you are discovering who you are in their absence.

Prolonged grief isn’t a sign of weakness; it is a sign of a brain struggling to reconcile two conflicting realities. Your emotional brain insists, “They belong here,” while your logical brain counters, “They are gone.” Running these two competing versions of reality simultaneously creates intense psychological distress, forcing the brain to confront this gap at every trigger.

Many fear moving forward because they equate healing with forgetting. But the brain doesn’t erase meaningful bonds—it evolves them. Over time, the connection shifts from an external presence to an internal blueprint. Their wisdom influences your choices, their humor shapes your perspective, and their voice becomes part of your inner compass.

While tragedy should never be romanticized, neuroscientists recognize a phenomenon known as post-traumatic growth. Following profound loss, the brain can gradually build new pathways rooted in:

  • Heightened empathy and compassion
  • Richer emotional awareness
  • Realigned personal priorities
  • Deeper gratitude for life and remaining relationships

You cannot return to who you were before the loss, because that version of you belonged to a world where they were still here. The true path of grief isn’t about moving on—it is about moving forward as someone new, carrying the love, the memories, and the transformation with you. On your journey, this new adventure, we walk with you at The Palms.

Shalom, Paul