Christian leaders, on the whole, have failed to address the abuse and assault experienced by more than half of all Christian believers. When was the last time your congregation dedicated a sermon or service to sexual harassment, assault, and abuse? If you are fortunate enough to have experienced such a service, you’re the exception to the rule. Despite attending all sorts of churches within a variety of denominations and despite sitting through countless sermons, I have not once heard violence against women addressed in any significant capacity. I’ve heard homilies on the Leviathan, the Nephilim, and the dimensions of Noah’s ark. I have not heard a single sermon confronting a problem that affects nearly every woman in every congregation, and around the world
2. What Do Survivors Need to Hear Today?
Start here: “You are beloved.” “You will recover.” “God is with you.”
3. Blocking Poor Immigrants Could Be Very Costly
“Worse health outcomes, especially among pregnant women. A jump in emergency room usage. More communicable diseases. Higher poverty and housing instability, including among U.S. citizen children. Lower productivity. Reduced educational attainment. And ‘downstream and upstream impacts on state and local economies, large and small businesses, and individuals.’ What are all these terrible things? They’re all potential consequences of a new Department of Homeland Security (DHS) rule—according to DHS itself.”
The American Bar Association has called on the Senate Judiciary Committee to delay the confirmation of Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh so that the FBI can investigate the sexual assault accusations against him, the Washington Post reported.
To better comprehend the rhythm of my faith, I need to dig in and do the work. Therefore, I took to Twitter to inquire about the best books on Latinx theology. What follows is a curated list of suggestions I received. These are books by diverse authors from various traditions. It is a beautiful mix. An assortment of theology that tastes like tacos, sancocho, and sugarcane.
On Thursday Dr. Christine Blasey Ford recounted her experience of sexual assault before a committee comprising mostly older white men. Women and other victims of abuse held their collective breath. The details were familiar. The resulting trauma — anxiety, fear of flying, claustrophobia — resonated. Survivors listened — and they recalled their worst experiences.
Much more than a depiction of self-imposed self-work, Nappily Ever After, directed by Haifaa Al-Mansour, challenges viewers to wholeheartedly release the things that chain them. It is a story about rejecting whom others say we are and celebrating the person we know ourselves to be.
As I look back, I can now see how these transitions had been significant in my caminata espiritual as well as in discerning my call to serve God and God’s people. These different encounters with places, peoples, and cultures, have been crucial in my attempt to foster the conditions for visible signs of Jesus’ kingdom to be a present reality and not only an eschatological affair.
In America’s children, we often see hope for a better future, especially when it comes to reducing racism. Each new generation of white people, the thinking goes, will naturally and inevitably be more open-minded and tolerant than previous ones. But do we have any reason to believe this? Should we have faith that today’s white kids will help make our society less racist and more equitable? Previous research has had mixed findings. So in order to explore more fully what white kids think about race, I went straight to the source: white children themselves.
For me, clerical sexual abuse is personal, professional, and institutional. It has haunted my service of the church for more than five decades, involving the abuse of people, power, and trust and a clerical culture that enabled it and covered it up. My experiences have taught me several lessons that I believe will be helpful as the church moves forward.
Every day for the last 10 months, Simon* has diligently followed a routine that begins with an 8 a.m. visit to his church. While the 23-year-old has always been religious, this visit is not for prayer or service. Like 53 other men in his village, he makes his way to a small room with a large French-style window, and waits for his turn. A community health worker hands him his daily dose of buprenorphine, which he places under his tongue in front of her and Simon knows he can get through the rest of the day.