This past month I have found myself tumbling head first into the elaborate matrix known as "the liturgical committee" set up to plan a multi faith service in Washington, D.C., on the eve of the Supreme Court oral arguments on the freedom to marry.
My response to the reactions of children within holy space is simple and core to who we are called to be as faith communities: Our sanctuaries are not sanctuaries from children. They are sanctuaries for children.
While all U.S. citizens retain the power to vote, elections are now won and lost based on the influence of individuals and special-interest groups with incredible financial power. Where does that leave our democracy?
In houses of worship, we share so many important milestones of our lives. We are a community, unlike any other. This amazing, intangible, but palpable, "mystery" of the Holy is what gives us common ground on which to stand.
The sad fact is that the stigma of HIV and AIDS could be dramatically reduced if the world's faith communities were to take the right kinds of action. Historically, many faith communities have proclaimed judgmental attitudes towards people living with HIV.
OK, church folks. Fasten your seatbelts. But don't hunker down. There's a new study out that shows that one in five Americans has no religious affiliation. Not Baptist, not Catholic, not Lutheran, not Jewish, not Muslim.
Aurora has reminded us that lament is sorely lacking in our land. Our faith communities are faced with a prime opportunity to recover the practice of lament and point us toward a society that is more compassionate and humane.
Neither the left nor the right has the answers to our most pressing problems, though each will continue to say that it does. So we have to focus on the spiritual and moral values that bring us together.
Social change does not ultimately rest on who is in the White House, but a movement outside D.C. What we need to re-learn now is the choreography of the "outside/inside dance" that real social change always requires.