Seeking Authentic Voice

The Episcopal Women’s Caucus has long been an advocate for justice and a change agent in the Episcopal Church, standing firmly at the nexus of sexism, misogyny, racism, ageism, and heterosexism in the church. It formed in 1971 as a caucus , not a committee or task force, making explicit its founders’ intention to be a politically potent agent in the polity of the church. The Caucus’ advocacy initially focused on advocating for women’s ordination and the full inclusion of women in the governance and ministries of Church life. The Caucus’ focus on gender equality not only raised the Church’s awareness of adverse practices that enable sexism and other power inequities, it also worked with other social justice advocacy groups to help the church understand the interlocking nature of oppressions. The Caucus works under the umbrella of The Consultation, which also includes   Associated Parishes for Liturgy and Mission , Episcopal Asiamerica Ministry Advocates, Episcopalians ...

This day, seventeen years ago, I was ordained to the transitional diaconate in the Episcopal Church. That year the church had transferred the Feast of St. John, which in my estimation was better than a feast day of martyrs. I had graduated from Seabury Western Theological Seminary AND Loyola's Graduate School of Social Work with a dual degree M.Div/MSW. This seemed to me to be no small feat because my undergraduate degree was not "academic," whereas the M.Div was sophisticated education in true Episcopal style and the MSW was gridlocked in accreditation requirements. I was naive entering into this dual degree program and faced a huge learning curve to rise to the challenge of writing at the level required to earn these degrees. To say that my professors were generous in their understanding of each student's life experience and grading accordingly, is to be grateful that these institutions appreciated diversity on many levels. My BA was in dance, a special major,  ...

A view from the Salt Lake City Cemetery of the mountains that rim the valley. All of my ancestors are buried here. My parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, most of my family are Mormon . Many of them are practicing Mormons. A few are known as “Jack Mormons” because they rarely go to church, smoke cigarettes and drink alcohol. I was born in to the church, a child of pioneers who risked their lives for their faith. Taking on the arduous commitment to travel west across an ocean, the Great Lakes, prairie and mountains in 1848, a six month journey. Their former lives reduced to a few possessions stuffed into crates and trunks and loaded onto covered wagons.    I loved the Church. I am enthralled by stories of my ancestors. I remember the exhilaration I felt climbing the mountain trail and arriving at the statue that marks the spot where Brigham Young announced, “This is the place.” The story told is reminiscent of Moses pointing the way to the Promised Lan...