Seeking Authentic Voice

The first congregation I served as Rector was stunned when it was revealed that the wife of a prominent couple in the parish was the victim of years of domestic abuse. When divorce proceedings started the abuse escalated and threatened to spill into the church itself.  We were forced to be attentive for the safety of everyone, most especially the wife and children. A few years later a colleague at another church experienced a tragic domestic violence episode in her congregation, when a wife tried to have her abusing spouse murdered. He lived and she went to prison. Then the news reported that a woman, who had been kidnapped by her former husband had been found alive but severely beaten, bound and gagged, stuffed in a trash can and locked in a storage unit, not far from my house, where she had been left to die. A few years later I attended a conference called, “Not In Our Pews” held in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin and sponsored by Project SAFE, an organization composed of a number of...

In the family of my childhood I am the oldest child and the only girl, I have three younger brothers. My brothers were mischievous, always getting into some kind of dilemma. One morning they decided to make peanut butter and honey sandwiches. Being only nine and six years old, they had to climb up on the counter to reach the cabinet and pull out the huge jar of honey. Somehow the jar tipped over and honey spilled all over the counter top. Although we cleaned it up there was a sticky residue for many days afterward. On another occasion my brothers were playing outside. One brother threw a metal pipe, as if it were a javelin in the summer Olympics. Our younger brother ran straight into the path of the flying pipe, which hit him in the head. The gash was deep and required stitches. The scar remained his entire life.  My brother was remorseful for having thrown the pipe, but the one who was hit, just laughed it off. My brothers played hard and sometimes fought hard. But they love each othe...