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Our Senior Minister
Rev. Dr. Maria Francesca French
Hello, I'm Maria.
I sometimes think I have one of the most interesting jobs in the world.
I get to spend my days thinking about some of life's biggest questions, exploring the endlessly fascinating possibilities of faith, and, best of all, sharing life with people. I get to celebrate extraordinary moments, accompany people through difficult ones, teach, preach, learn, laugh, and occasionally find myself in conversations I never could have anticipated.
What a remarkable privilege. And what an adventure.
I've spent much of my life thinking about God, Christianity, and what it means to be part of a community. But what I love most about ministry has always been the people. The conversations that begin over coffee and somehow become much more interesting than either person expected. The friendships that develop across generations. The extraordinary relationships that form when people invite us into their lives.
I love preaching, teaching, and creating opportunities for people to encounter Christianity in ways that are thoughtful, engaging, and sometimes a little surprising. I also happen to believe that ministry should never be boring.
For me, church is at its best when people are genuinely interested in one another, when curiosity is encouraged, and when faith becomes something we live rather than simply something we profess.
That's one of the things that excites me most about Garden City Community Church. This congregation has a remarkable history, and I'm grateful to be part of its continuing story. I look forward to building relationships, sharing ideas, celebrating traditions, and discovering all the wonderful things that happen when people decide to share their lives.
And please, call me Maria.
The Pastor, Theologian, and Author
I grew up Italian American and Catholic, and faith has been part of my story for as long as I can remember. But it certainly hasn't remained the same throughout my life. My relationship with Christianity has taken many forms, moved through different communities and expressions, and led me toward questions I never imagined I'd be asking.
I find something rather wonderful about that. Faith, at least in my experience, has never been a finished thing. It has been an adventure of its own.
One of the most formative books in my life has been After God by the philosopher and theologian Mark C. Taylor. In its acknowledgments, Taylor writes,
“I no longer believe in circles as I once did.”
That sentence changed my life.
At the time, I had begun to recognize how easily faith could become a kind of feedback loop, endlessly returning to the same questions, the same assumptions, and the same familiar conclusions. I was ready to step outside that circle. Not because I had lost interest in Christianity, but because I was convinced there was more to discover.
No more circles became something of a personal mantra. It gave language to a growing conviction that faith need not continually return us to where we've already been. That perhaps the most interesting possibilities emerge when we're willing to venture beyond the familiar, without knowing in advance where the journey will lead.
That conviction has shaped much of my professional and theological life.
I've spent more than two decades working in ministry, theological education, and Christian leadership, but much of my work has taken place in spaces where the future of Christianity is anything but a settled question.
I'm particularly interested in what we might call the post-Christian world. Not necessarily a world without Christianity, but one in which religious institutions no longer occupy the place they once did, inherited beliefs are increasingly questioned, and many people have walked away from church without necessarily walking away from the questions that brought them there in the first place.
I've spent years working with people who find themselves in precisely that space. People who have left religious institutions, reconsidered long-held beliefs, or discovered that the familiar categories of theism and atheism don't quite capture their experience of faith.
And I find that fascinating.
Why should believing in God or not believing in God exhaust the possibilities of faith?
What if Christianity still has something remarkable to offer beyond the demand that we settle that question?
What if faith is less about arriving at certainty and more about how we choose to live?
These are some of the questions that have drawn me toward radical theology, a field of contemporary theological thought that challenges inherited assumptions about God, belief, and religion while remaining deeply interested in what Christianity might yet become.
My professional life has given me the opportunity to explore these questions in a variety of settings, from congregational ministry and church planting to university classrooms, seminaries, denominational leadership, and international theological work.
I'm an ordained minister in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), hold a Doctor of Ministry from Wesley Theological Seminary, and have graduate degrees in religion, theology, and Christian thought.
My writing and research have explored radical theology, post-Christian thought, and the possibilities of faith beyond conventional religious categories.
I've contributed to several theological publications and authored Safer Than the Known Way: A Post-Christian Journey and Reconfiguring: A Collection of Post-Christian Thoughts and Theologies.
But for all my interest in the future of Christianity, I remain deeply interested in the life of the local church. I love preaching, the liturgical seasons, the rituals and celebrations that mark our lives, and the extraordinary relationships that form when people gather around something larger than themselves.
Perhaps that's what continues to fascinate me about Christianity. Not simply what it has been, but what it might yet become.
And that, in many ways, has been the great adventure of my theological life. Though I suppose my theological life and my life have never really been separate. Christianity, after all these years, still has the capacity to surprise me.
A Little Life Beyond the Pulpit
I'm a native New Yorker, and New York City remains one of my great loves. Its energy, its beauty, its imagination, its endless capacity to surprise me. I've lived in quite a few places, but there's still nothing quite like New York.
And there have been some wonderful adventures beyond it.
My life has taken me from Minnesota to California, across the Atlantic to England, and into the South of France, where I spent a year and a half and left a considerable piece of my heart.
France has been more than a place I've lived or visited. It's become part of my imagination, my sense of beauty, and the way I experience the world. I return whenever I can, and I suspect I'll spend the rest of my life finding reasons to go back.
Along the way, I've collected something far more wonderful than passport stamps: friendships that stretch across continents and decades. I love that my life is full of people and places with stories that continue to unfold, often in the most unexpected ways. Some of my dearest friendships exist across oceans, and I find something rather magical about the way our lives remain connected, no matter where in the world we happen to be.
And speaking of unexpected adventures, I met and married my British husband, Simon, in London during the pandemic in 2020.
I call him Dreamboat, which should tell you just about everything you need to know about how I feel about him.
Some of life's most extraordinary adventures begin when the world seems to have come to a complete stop.
I've always loved fashion and the art of personal style. There's something wonderful about the way a beautiful dress, a perfectly chosen pair of shoes, or an outfit that feels just right can express a little of who we are. I love femininity, elegance, and the pleasure of getting dressed, whether there's a special occasion on the calendar or simply a good reason to enjoy the day.
I'm also a bilateral breast cancer survivor. It's one chapter of my story, though certainly not the whole story. Life has given me its share of unexpected turns, and I've come to appreciate that its beauty and its uncertainty are often inseparable.
And, of course, there's Randy, our miniature dachshund, whose personality is considerably larger than his stature and who has become quite convinced that the world revolves around him.
I've always been drawn to the improbable, the extraordinary, and those moments when ordinary life seems to become something else entirely. A little magic. A little alchemy. A willingness to follow the adventure wherever it leads.
I find life endlessly interesting. And I remain wonderfully curious about what might happen next.
