During this arduous journey, my current church and my former church have been the Church for me in countless ways, both tangible and imperceptible.
Because we follow the Prince of Peace, the seemingly endless gun violence in our nation affects us in a deep place. Our hearts and spirits feel this violence as a literal assault on our humanity and our faith. So what do we do now?
In your community and mine, it is easy to find children who are, for myriad reasons, embroiled in the juvenile justice system. Will we stand idle and silent, allowing beloved children of God to be funneled away from academic success and rerouted toward the juvenile justice system?
Like the majority of American Christians, for most of my adult life I had only a passing interest in this country’s health care crisis. Now, as I await a kidney transplant, personal experience has led me to care deeply about this issue. But I believe faith communities should care too.
The real life Wonder Woman, Israeli actress Gal Gadot, has stood against intolerance and nativism as an advocate peace, equality and tolerance. We should embrace the heroes and sheroes who challenge us to fight battles we did not think we could fight, much less win.
“Out to pasture” is a label that doesn’t fit us well as retired female ministers. So where might we go from here? When the joyous strains of the retirement celebration in fellowship hall fade into a faint echo, what do we do next?
As people of faith, let us seize this holy commission, covering survivors of family violence with the compassionate cloak of justice, confronting violence wherever it casts its shadow and following God into every place where oppression must be overcome by justice.
It is a divine calling from God to care for those who have reached this unbearable place in their lives. The church cannot offer some magical spiritual cure. The church can offer the kind of ministry of care and compassion that points to the resilience of the human spirit and to the abiding presence of God’s spirit in every unendurable, overpowering circumstance.
As ‘bystanders’ to the trauma of sexual violence, we can choose to see and hear, refuse to keep the secret, empower survivors to tell their stories, and in their telling, open wide the windows of truth and healing.