Influential and beloved reverend in San Mateo County dies at 75

Ultimately, the reverence and respect offered to her as a reverend stemmed from that unconditional acceptance and support of all her congregants, Pastor Jim Mitulski, her successor at the Congregational Church of the Peninsula, fondly recalled. 

“They come to that church, even though they had written off church because they had a bad experience … because they were divorced, because they were gay, because they were unmarried and had children. All the ways Christianity, in a betrayal of its founder, Jesus, treats people,” Mitulski said. 

Instead, Denham’s approach to her congregation, and her spiritual imprint on the community, was the true opposite of judgment, he said.

“The kids who grew up there, they always knew they were loved by God and that church family, and there was nothing they could do to change that,” Mitulski said. “Not judgment, not exclusion, but a lived experience of knowing you’re always welcome for who you are. Not for who you aren’t, or who you’re pretending to be.” 

Denham was well-known for the way she could connect with the community’s young people, said Maura Whitmore, a close friend and member of the Congregational Church of the Peninsula. 

“She was the one who made them feel seen, heard, cared about. They weren’t just teenagers, they were children of God. She could see and hear them. She made them think God could see and hear them also,” she said. 

A mother first

That empathetic spirit indubitably carried over to her own children, Jesse and Gabriel, although in her family life she was a mother first, Jesse Denham said. 

“I never really saw her as a minister,” he said. “We talked spiritually, talked about life and the universe, more in the capacity of support and curiosity about the world. She was just trying to be a good mom.” 

The brothers’ upbringing was challenging at times, he said, growing up as two biracial children in predominantly-white areas. The family’s personal lived experiences with the criminal justice system were also difficult, ultimately sparking Kristi Denham’s lifelong passion for working with incarcerated and formerly incarcerated individuals. 

“Trying to provide support and guidance for people affected by the criminal justice system was a big part of what she was about, in large part because of what she was exposed, to what my brother and I were exposed to — early on, we were in the orbit of people being affected by our criminal justice system,” he said. 

Community service

Kristi Denham pastored young men incarcerated at Hillcrest Juvenile Hall. A scholarship established in her name — the Rev. Kristi Denham Scholarship with Project Change — provides formerly incarcerated youth with counseling and other tools as they pursue other higher education. 

“She used to take communion up there. She ran a prayer service for them. It was just a special interest of hers,” friend Michelle Carter said. “She knew about [the scholarship] before she died, and she was very pleased we had done that.” 

Rather than defining these important concepts and values as unmovable definitions, she engaged her children in conversations on topics like the criminal justice system, discussing fairness, what it means to have a chance, and systematic injustice, Jesse Denham said. 

These conversations, often held on drives to and from school or the children’s center, also spanned politics, science, the universe and interpersonal issues, he said. 

“Through that dialogue, we figured out our own compass. She provided the mechanism for us to create our own way. Some people have teachers that can provide that,” Jesse said. “Having that as the person you come home to at night and spend the most time in the world with was so empowering and so impactful for myself, for a lot of young people.” 

Gabriel, Kristi Denham’s younger son, also vividly recalled these conversations on long drives, where he would listen to Jesse and Kristi debate a wide range of topics in an encompassing style that created a long-lasting love for language and discussion. 

“Those discussions were so varied, covered so many different types of topics — nothing she couldn’t talk about, nothing you ever shied away from bringing up,” he said. “Those conversations continued into her final weeks. Me and my brother were by her side for the last three weeks of her life. While she was still able to speak, most conversations were still these big existential philosophical conversations she loved to have.” 

Bringing people together

She used the power of connection and dialogue in her professional work, both as a pastor and at the Peninsula Multifaith Coalition, an organization uniting many different faith houses to learn about one another’s religions. 

Miriam Zimmerman first met Kristi Denham at an IHOP in Belmont, during a meeting of liaisons for the Peninsula Multifaith Coalition. She represented Congregation Beth Jacob, a synagogue in Redwood City. 

“She never, ever tried to convert us, and she supported our beliefs. We were encouraged to talk about whatever was of interest. She was interested in anything anyone presented,” she said. “As long as I’ve known her, she’s been interested in promoting relationships.” 

Her approach to faith was encompassing and community-building, Zimmerman said. 

“[She believed] God has many names, God has different messages for different people. We don’t always hear the complete message, it’s up to us to figure it out,” she said of Kristi Denham’s spiritual approach and interest in uniting faith leaders. “I think it won’t change what we mean by community, but transcend the limitations of how we define community.” 

Mitulski shared a similar sentiment about her passion for bringing others together. 

“She got groups of people to take risks with each other, to build relationships along lines that are used to separate each other — religion, culture, race, class — and it must have been a deeply rooted passion,” he said. 

But her skills could also be applied to the most personal of moments, multiple friends recalled, from helping Zimmerman through becoming a grandmother to the day she met Whitmore. 

Whitmore, who lived half a block from the church, walked in and asked Kristi Denham if she could hold a funeral for her husband, who had died on Christmas Day. 

“She said yes,” Whitmore said. “One of her special, special gifts — she could help people through the grieving process in a way that was absolutely fantastic. She knows what to say. It’s somehow ingrained in her to help people who are grieving. She did that for me.” 

‘Beacon of support’

Gabriel Denham best remembers his mother’s accepting and empathic personality reflected in her care for him in his mid-20s, after he recovered from a serious surgery in her home. As a teenager, he and Kristi Denham had a tumultuous relationship — fueled by a similar stubbornness and free-spirited nature. 

“She just kind of dropped everything to be there in the hospital with me. It really stuck with me, really made a huge impression on me. It made me look at her very differently,” he said. “I remember thinking, ‘this is what love is.’ This is what it means to love someone.” 

During that period of recuperation, she was a “beacon of support” as he reevaluated and transformed his life, eventually going back to school and getting a full-ride scholarship to Columbia University. 

“That’s where I’ve been ever since, due in large part to her support and her giving me a chance to hit pause on everything and regroup,” Gabriel Denham said. 

As many in the community mourn Kristi Denham, Mitulski shared her own thoughts on her passing, posted to her Facebook before her death. 

“I love so many people, and feel so blessed. I fear the prospect of dying, but not very much,” he read. “I will live for as long as I’m needed here. I will love for all eternity.” 

Kristi Lynn Denham was born May 28, 1949, to Audrey Jean Cochrane and Wes Martin Redding, the first daughter in a family that would include two others. She graduated from the University of California, Davis and received a degree in ministry from the San Francisco Theological Seminary. She served as an associate pastor of the First Congregational Church of Atlanta for two years before serving at the Congregational Church of the Peninsula for 20 years, until her retirement in 2019. She loved to dance. 

Those wishing to honor her can make donations to her scholarship fund, to be sent to Congregational Church of the Peninsula, 751 Alameda de las Pulgas, Belmont 94002.