No matter who you are, or where you are on life's journey, you are welcome here at University Congregational United Church of Christ. Young, old, sure of your path, or still searching --- we invite you to join us in imagining love and justice - as Jesus did - in acting to change the world.

We would love to welcome you at our in-person service each Sunday at 10 am. A digital service is also offered on line on Sunday evening at 5 pm. Our service is streamed on YouTube and Facebook. You will find the links just below this section on our home page. The weekly 5 pm service is  available on line after it is initially presented on Sundays..

We strive to walk in the path of Jesus, and to offer an authentic welcome to everyone who walks through our door or joins us online. If you are new to us, we would love to get to know you and answer your questions about our church, even if we cannot greet you in person. A member of our Welcome Committee, or a pastor, would be happy to correspond on email or talk with you on the phone. Click here to arrange for a meeting.

Our in-person worship service starts at 10 am and includes hymns, prayers, scripture reading and a sermon. It usually lasts about an hour and fifteen minute.. During the 10 am service we also offer live-streaming to a nearby room that offers those with compromised immune systems to be more isolated. We also offer a separate space for children, with supervised play and crafts during the 10 am service. Sections of the 10 am service are programed into the 5 pm digital service, which is offered as a "vespers."

Children are an important part of our community, and are welcome for all or part or the service.

UCUCC Parking Map

View for detailed Google Map.

Parking can be a challenge in the University District! Persistence, patience and an early start are keys to success.

UW has free parking on Sundays. Enter the main campus gate at NE 45th and 17th Ave NE and turn left past the toll booth. It's about a three-block walk to the church. The UW Meany Garage at 15th Ave. NE and NE 41st St. is a five-block walk.

The church also owns three parking lots - Lot A is across the street from the church on 16th Ave. E. Lot B is beneath Sortun Court, just north of the church on the east side of 16th Ave. E. (It closes at 2 p.m.) Lot C (for those with difficulty walking, young children and visitors) is at the corner of 15th NE and NE 45th St., next to the church.

If you need to be assured of a close parking spot, you can call the church office before noon on Friday to reserve one: 206-524-2322.

From time time we host lunches for people who are interested in learning more about our church and/or possibly becoming a member.  We are also happy to meet with you over coffee or at the church to explore and explain a range of topics about our church, from history, to theology, to membership. Click here to arrange a meeting with a Welcome Committee Volunteer or pastor or to set up a meeting and/or to learn when the next Welcome Lunch is planned.

Thank you for your interest in our church community.

We are an inter-generational church and strive to be family-friendly, with an active ministry for children and youth. All ages are welcome in worship. We also offer nursery and child-care, Younger children begin the 10 am service with us and usually leave after about 15 minutes. Older children have the option of leaving for a special sermon time. Junior high and high school youth meet at 9 am and then often sit together in worship. Give us a call at 206-524-2322 for more specifics or email Margaret Swanson, our Director of Children, Youth and Family Ministries..

Our programs for children and youth continue during this pandemic. Sign up at the bottom of the home page to receive our Children's Ministries and/or Youth Ministries newsletter.

Hearing Impaired: Our sanctuary has an induction loop system that uses the T-Coil mode of your hearing aids. You can get the necessary equipment just before entering the Sanctuary on the right or ask any usher.

Visually Impaired: We offer each Sunday's program in large print for easier readability.

Wheelchair Access: The front entry is wheelchair accessible as are the rest rooms. Please don't hesitate to ask for assistance.

Campsite in Coyote GulchWe were camped beneath a slickrock overhang in Coyote Gulch, Southern Utah, just a hundred yards or so from towering Jacob Hamblin Arch. The lively whispering of flowing water echoed gently off the canyon walls, punctuated by the melodic song of canyon wrens with their six-note descending scale.

I was alone in this narrow oasis of cottonwoods, grasses, shrubs and cactus along a tributary of the Escalante River. Jeff and our young sons were off on an adventure to explore the canyon upstream while I stayed behind to enjoy some solitude in this unspoiled place. I sat listening to the soft rustle of canyon sounds, eyes closed, following my breath, trying to let my thoughts settle–a beginner at meditation. Thoughts flitted through my busy mind, answered by birdsong and water over stones.

Footsteps nearby opened my eyes, and I turned upstream to find a tall, bearded man approaching, staff in hand, pack comfortable on his back. We exchanged greetings and marveled in turn at the beauty of the landscape, and yes, he had encountered Jeff and the boys. Soon our conversation deepened and I invited him to have a seat on the nearby log. “Cup of tea?” I offered. “Sure.”

I lit the little backpacking stove, found cups, boiled water, made tea. We sat sipping and talking, sharing stories of our journeys, reflecting on how it was that we both found ourselves here in this wilderness, in this accident of time and place. “Right now, in my life, I feel compelled to wander with no clear agenda,” he said. Between jobs, between commitments to people, he hoped to clear his mind and find a sense of direction within the landscape.

“We have been here several times,” I shared. “Our boys love coming here and it provides such a valuable respite for all of us from school and jobs and theCottonwoods in the gulch demands of everyday life.”

Our conversation wandered to the mechanics of backpacking, how freeing the process of winnowing down to the bare essentials could be. He agreed, and then sheepishly admitted that he had pared down just a little too far and had neglected to bring along a spoon. “So how are you managing?” I asked. “Not all that well,” he replied. “I’ve tried using small twigs as chopsticks. They don’t quite get the job done.”

What had inspired me to pack an extra camping spoon? I found it in our gear bag and handed it over. “Here you go,” I said. “I’m glad to be of service.” When I was finally able to convince him that it really was extra, he gladly accepted it and we shared a good laugh. We talked together for perhaps an hour before we hugged and he went on his way.

Jeff's siblingsThat was not my first visit to Coyote Gulch, nor my last. This place holds memories of meaningful conversations among family members and friends, and the comfort of walking through a pristine landscape as beauty unfolds. Our sons remember building dams in the river next to our campsite, and bonding with their uncle over scary stories and silly jokes. They remain close and in frequent touch with him to this day. On my first visit to this place, I carried our youngest son in a back carrier—a precious opportunity for closeness between a child and a soon-to-be stepmother.

On our most recent trip to Coyote Gulch, in Spring of 2023, we invited along Jeff’s minister brother and his widowed sister. Within the ease of walking through remarkable landscapes there were conversations about grief and loss, theology, and the challenges of relating authentically with our grown children. Each of us had time to unwind and live into our love and affection for each other. We could let go of burdens and gain fresh perspective.

We also talked about this: What is it that makes a place sacred? Is it something about the place itself and our memories of it, or are some places intrinsically more sacred that others? Could it be that all of creation was initially sacred, and through our neglect and abuse, much had been desecrated? Could it be that the sacredness of some places has been spoiled, and must be sanctified or consecrated anew? All of these words can be traced back to the Latin sanctus, meaning to set apart for special use or purpose, to make holy.

On this topic I have more questions than answers, but I do know this: I have spent time in some places where God’s presence in my life seems just a little easier to access. Coyote Gulch certainly makes this list. Also the island of Iona in Scotland, the lands of the Whidbey Institute, and our own sanctuary here in Seattle. Some people call these “thin places,” believing that the separation between God and humans is thinner there. I am not sure about that, but I do believe this: at the intersection of beauty, good will, humility—and in relationship with others—God works through us to ease our journeys and make us whole. Where are your sacred places?