I went on a church retreat this past weekend in Irvington, New York, which is a lovely little town on the Hudson. We stayed in a large house next to the Episcopal Church there, and we left our phones in our rooms and prayed and sang and ate and it left me with a quiet inside that has lasted into the week.
We’ve been reading James Cone’s God of the Oppressed together, and we talked some about race and economics and oppression and our own histories.
I thought about growing up in Texas, theologically slightly right of center (for an Episcopalian, anyway) mostly oblivious to inequality and somewhat apolitical, more concerned with the state of my soul than social justice.
I’ve changed since then. I’m left of center (if you’re been reading my posts you probably knew that), and becoming more so, though I’m still learning when to speak and how to speak out against injustice and when to be silent.
Recently, as the number of religious progressives increases, scholars have been reconsidering the effect of the legacy of the liberal church, and I’ve been seeing it in action in North Carolina, which is very cool.
My hope is that the church can continue to be both a refuge and a strong voice for change, caring for souls and for bodies, offering peace while working for justice.