The Unmooring - Issue 1 by The Unmooring Journal

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January 2021 Issue #1

The Unmooring www.theunmooring.org Volume 1, Issue 1 issuu.com/theunmooring Cover Art:

When You Reach Down and Miss but Still Arenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t Empty. 2020. Acrylic on wood, 11x14in R. Sawan White

PO Box 2834 Ventura, CA 93001 editors@theunmooring.org Editors Bonnie Rubrecht | Kylie Riley Art Editor Rebekah Drumsta Published January 2021 under Creative Commons License CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0

United States of America

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editors’ letter To say that 2020 was a difficult year for any creative endeavors would be an understatement and to some it would seem folly to launch an online journal devoted to women’s voices on issues of faith and theology. We are in a moment of continuous revelation where the predominant voices of the Christian world are being called into question, but the truths and issues we explore here are not boundaried by time. Churches, denominations, doctrines—even religious leaders—may serve as moorings and moorings can change, shifting with human influence and culture. But we have Christ as our anchor. This journal is an effort to seek understanding in the midst of ever-widening divisions in the Protestant Christian Church, both in the United States and abroad. It is our hope to look to numerous expressions of the universal church, whether Catholicism or Orthodox or Protestant traditions, in an effort to redefine our faith apart from prevailing stereotypes of evangelicalism that embodies the term Christian in the minds of many Americans.

The writing we publish does not necessarily reflect our own personal views. Instead, we are striving to create a space where women with varying perspectives and observations can enter into a dialogue about faith. We welcome submissions from any background that look to engage thoughtfully about issues of Christian faith. While in this issue we have added short introductions of our own backgrounds in our “Beneath the Surface” profiles to give readers a sense of our personal understandings, we hope to feature contributors and other writers and artists in future issues. We are indebted to each and every one of our contributing artists and writers to this inaugural issue for their willingness to be part of this journey towards new community and understanding. God guide and lead us all as we work out our faith with fear and trembling.

bonnie rubrecht & kylie riley

We do not look to set aside or diminish the central tenets of Christian belief or endorse any particular understanding of progressive or liberal Christianity. Rather, we hope to rediscover and unearth the wider mercy of our tradition in order to offer hope and joy, especially to thousands of Christian women who have struggled to make their voices heard given the presumptions of the past, and what we believe is misinterpretation of scripture.

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contents 09

Artwork: Karla Adolphe

A January Prayer Wendy Janzen

Formation in Community Kate Boyd what does community offer us?

Church Hurts Rebekah Drumsta a different experience of church

Beneath the Surface: Kylie Riley

Artwork with Journal: Digging a Hole Meagan Stirling

Artwork: R. White Sawan

Beneath the Surface: Bonnie Rubrecht

Liturgy on Strong Women Kylie Riley

We are Remnants of American Baptists: Women are Not Allowed to be Pastors

Nyasha Bhobo & Audrey Simango

“. . .I eventually came to agree...that the greatest value of apologetic exercises that were supposed to prove the truth of Christianity and disprove other belief systems was not in the ‘missional’ project of converting others to your religion—it was in dispelling the doubts of those who already believed.” Caroline C. Henne, Religous Conversion, Dialogue or Freedom

â&#x20AC;&#x153;By developing a toolkit for emotional maturity and healthy relationships, we learn to cultivate awareness of ourselves so we can ask the Spirit to remake our inner being.â&#x20AC;? Kate Boyd, Formation in Community

Artwork: Arlene Salazar

A Story of Christian Selfishness Kylie Riley can the Church find a way through our self-centered culture?

Beneath the Surface: Rebekah Drumsta

Artwork: Christy Phelps

Religious Conversion, Dialogue or Freedom Caroline C. Henne how do we engage authentically with people of other faiths?

A Prayer Nancy DePew

Ebb Tide Habakkuk 1:5

Liturgy for Healing from Divorce Lana Phillips

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karla adolphe

rebekah drumsta

Karla Adolphe, best known as a singer/songwriter, is a multi-talented artist, poet, painter and intuitive creative from the foothills of southern Alberta. In 2021, Karla is creating “small batch artistry”, a variety of monthly offerings, exploring themes of awakening, contemplation and storytelling through various creative mediums. Instagram and Facebook, and karlaadolphe.ca.

For over two decades, Rebekah Drumsta’s work has been globally reaching by serving with various nonprofits and organizations. Rebekah holds a BA in Urban Ministry and Family Crisis with a Counseling Minor, an MA in Religious Education and is a Certified Professional Life Coach. She is a contributing writer for The Salem Network and has made appearances on and consulted with sources including BBC, NBC, ABC, The Daily Telegraph and a variety of other platforms including podcasts and film projects. Instagram, Twitter and Facebook, and rebekahdrumsta.com

kate boyd Kate Boyd is a writer, speaker, and Bible teacher. Inspired by encounters with the global church, she helps believers find and create biblical community with intimacy and integrity wherever they find themselves in location or in life. She provides weekly reflections and resources for small groups, house churches, and missional communities to thrive with the Happy & Holy Podcast and the Couches & Cathedrals newsletter. Instagram, Twitter, and kateboyd.co.

nyasha bhobo Nyasha Bhobo is a feminist, Baptist, and an upcoming freelance writer in Zimbabwe.

nancy depew Nancy DePew has been a lay Christian counselor for over 15 years, and a frequent speaker at Christian women’s retreats and conferences. She has attended the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington DC and was invited onto the first team that allowed women to come to India through Gospel for Asia to mentor women there. She holds a BA in Human Studies from St. Mary’s College.

caroline c. henne Caroline C. Henne is a researcher and social justice advocate who loves to talk about theology. She currently serves as a board member with The Fashion Connection, a non-profit organization focused on ethically produced fashion, and the Operations Manager for Local Maverick, an online marketplace connecting local farms and vendors with their communities. She holds an MA in Middle East Studies from Georgetown University and an MA in Theology from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary.

wendy janzen Wendy Janzen lives with her family and cat in Kitchener, Ontario. She is an ordained Mennonite pastor, spiritual director, and the founder and leader of Burning Bush Forest Church and Wilmot Forest Church, experimental faith communities that gather monthly for outdoor worship in and with creation.

contributors 06

christy phelps

r. white sawan

Christy Phelps is an artist and art instructor in Norman, Oklahoma. She has an Associate Degree in Visual Arts and a background in oil painting, commission work, and teaching. Currently, she is a Bachelor of Fine Arts candidate at the University of Oklahoma, where her studies and internships are focused on ceramics and figure sculpture. Christy regularly teaches and produces paintings, glass art, ceramics, and sculpture work to sell online and in local stores, as well as to show in local art exhibitions. She regularly participates in art fundraisers with the Norman Arts Council and local women’s shelter. Passionate about freedom, equality, and enjoyment, her vibrantly colorful work often addresses current issues and portrays precious moments. Facebook and christyphelpsart.com.

Born in 1978 in the United States of America, R. Sawan White started her career in England as a classically-trained printmaker and painter. Her work has exhibited all over the world including New York City, London, Taipei, Washington DC and Richmond, VA. Paintings by White can be found in private, corporate, and academic collections throughout the world. Along with creating, White has spent the last 20 years lecturing and leading seminars on contemporary aesthetics and history, art and faith connections, and artistic practice. She currently lives and works in Rhode Island. Instagram, Twitter, and rsawanwhite.com

audrey simago

lana phillips

Audrey Simango is a feminist, Baptist, a freelance writer, and scientist in Zimbabwe.

Lana Phillips is a writer who lives in the mountains of North Carolina with her dog Callie and her cat Wilson. This is her first publication.

meagan stirling

kylie riley Kylie Riley has a master’s in theology from Iliff School of Theology. She has a particular interest in ecotheology and feminist theology and has had the privilege of working in several denominations, both professionally and as a lay person. Kylie identifies as a Christian, a wife and mother of two children, an environmentalist, and a feminist. She believes God’s truth and love is for all but when actualized within the world it resonates loudly for the marginalized.

arlene salazar

Meagan Stirling received her MFA degree at the University of Wisconsin in Madison and her BA from Whitworth University. Her current work is interested in perceptions of risk and safety and motherhood. She enjoys working in multiple mediums, including print making, installation, and performance. Recent exhibitions include Matter + Spirit, a traveling exhibition, Whitworth University Oliver Gallery, and Sullivan Goss Gallery, Santa Barbara. Her artwork has been featured in solo and group exhibitions throughout the United States. Stirling currently lives in Santa Barbara, California where she is Associate Professor of Art at Westmont College and the proud momma to Tate and Kit. Instagram and meaganstirling.com.

Arlene Salazar is a South Texas native now living in the Netherlands with her sweet fiance. She is a wedding photographer and teaches ESL to the cutest kiddos in China. You can always catch her behind a computer planning or daydreaming about her next adventure! Instagram, Facebook and arlenesalazar.com

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Hope #2. 2019. Mixed Media, 6x9in. In the fall of 2019, I began painting mixed media floral pieces as a form of prayer. That season was so disruptive so I found myself turning to painting for a sense of relaxation, connection, and meditation. These two paintings are called Hope #1 and Hope #2 and were created in this season after one of my mentors tragically died last year in an accident. I created these two works for her daughter as an ode to her mom, who was the most wonderful painter. I believe the use of mixed media layers allows me to slow down, take time, and watch the process of paintings evolve from a liminal space between the soulâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s longing and the repetitive motion of painting strokes. These pieces take me about a week to complete and serve as a deep source of comfort and prayer for me. 08

Karla Adolphe

Hope #1. 2019. Mixed Media, 6x9in.

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Bearer of mystery, Lover of life, Presence born of Earth and Spirit; In these short days and long nights of the New Year we cautiously seek signs of hope despite the unmooring weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve experienced in the past days and months. As we venture tentatively forward, guide us with your gentle hand. WENDY JANZEN

A January Prayer

O God:

In our uncertainty, be our grounding. When we are overwhelmed, let us find solace in the cycles of creation and the seasons. Remind us that winter is always followed by spring, and death is followed by new life. Help us to see you in the everyday beauty of sunshine, and in acts of kindness and compassion. Expand our vision, open our hearts, grant us courage, and fill us with hope each new day. Amen.

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Formation in Community KATE BOYD I adjusted my scarf and my purple jacket then crossed my arms to hold the shivers at bay. I hadn’t quite packed layers thick enough to stand up to the cold of this mountaintop town in South Asia. It didn’t help that the floor I sat on was made of concrete that trapped the chill in the air so it continued to radiate through my body. But as we all started singing, I couldn’t remember the cold anymore.

I have come to be saved.” My jaw dropped. How many people just blurt it out like that? It was beautiful, and she made Jesus the Lord of her life right there among us. That moment was made possible by the men and women who worshipped in that room and witnessed with their words and their lives each day. In my short week with them, I learned so much about what it meant to live as the community of Christ.

In this small living room, a group of South Asian men and women sat in a circle. I sat among them, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of their faces that showed signs of their reverence and devotion to the God they hadn’t long known. While they were singing (and I was watching), Devna came through the door. The worshippers soon finished their song then greeted her.

There’s a “rule” in marketing that states it takes an average of seven “touches” with your brand in order to make a sale. Sometimes it’s less. Sometimes it’s more. But it takes many instances of encountering information and those sharing it in order to see the solution plainly. It may seem strange to begin an article about spiritual formation with marketing statistics, but as a career marketer and theologian, I’ve always found it endlessly fascinating how we can learn from those areas of life we don’t expect to.

In their response to their greetings, Devna said calmly, “I saw all the shoes outside your door, and I knew you must be meeting for church now.

Discipleship that transforms lives and communities starts with each other. It’s the result of the work and influence of a chain of people, and it’s where the “rule of seven” idea can actually be immensely helpful. Because if that’s what it takes to change one idea or to purchase one thing that will make your life better, how many more interactions with an idea does one need in order to rework their entire life to be more like Christ’s? The good news is that God designed the Church—his community of people writ large—to live in this way. Since the beginning discipleship and spiritual formation have not been solitary acts. Rather, they have been done in community. Acts 2:42-47 shows us how the earliest believers devoted themselves to learning and to care. They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer. “Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and signs were being performed through the apostles. Now all the believers were together and held all things in common. They sold their possessions and property and distributed the proceeds to all, as any had need. Every day they devoted themselves to meeting together in the temple, and broke bread from house to house. They ate their food with joyful and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. Every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.”

Each of us bears the mission to make disciples, but alongside bringing in new people, we must focus on discipling each other as well, or as the Great Commission from Matthew 28:19-20 prompts us, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you” (emphasis added).

The Body at Work Discipleship requires community, because we are each created to provide something different to the whole. My favorite image in the Bible of the church is that of a body (Ephesians 4, Romans 12, 1 Corinthians 12). As Paul wrote, “But as it is, God has arranged each one of the parts in the body just as he wanted. And if they were all the same part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body” (1 Corinthians 12:18-20).

“Discipleship requires community, because we are each created to provide something different to the whole.”

Throughout the New Testament, Paul writes his letters to encourage each community to take ownership of the behavior, beliefs, and actions of one another—to co-labor with God and to build on the foundation of Jesus Christ that established their faith (1 Corinthians 3:9-11). And more people with the same message and goal working to form each other and share the Gospel creates more “touchpoints” to impact.

Ears, eyes, feet, hands. . . each one is created for a specific purpose, yet each part works together for the life of the whole. Much like we cannot function optimally without each other, we also cannot be whole. We need what the other parts provide. The letters of the New Testament were written to communities rather than to individuals, and the examples of discipleship in such communities do not rest on one person but the whole. Discipleship is for us all to do and to receive. With differing gifts, experiences, and passions, we all come together in pursuit of helping one another flourish.

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From Beliefs to Embodiment When we think of discipleship, oftentimes we think only of the knowledge side of the journey. We ask: what does the disciple need to know? That is a valuable piece of the puzzle, but I would say there are three sides of discipleship that ought to be pursued in order to produce healthy and whole disciples. The first is orthodoxy, or right beliefs. This often focuses on the knowledge side of things where we instill the proper doctrines and beliefs into our brothers and sisters. This is vital because this theology should be the building block for the outworking of our faith that then moves through to the next two pieces. The second is orthopraxy, or right practices. This includes everything from sacraments inside the church worship services to the practical outworking of our faith through caring for others, evangelism, and even making disciples. Having proper beliefs should drive us to behave or practice our faith in ways that glorify God. The first two come straight out of the Great Commission itself “teaching them to observe.” It shows both the head and the hands part of our work. The third area is what I call “orthopathy,” or right becoming or relating. This goes beyond “what” we do and into “how” we do it. If we see the head and the hands aspects of discipleship in orthodoxy and orthopraxy respectively, it is in orthopathy that we see its heart. It is clear in 1 Corinthians 13 that even correct behavior can be useless without proper love. “If I speak human or angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so that I can move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give

away all my possessions, and if I give over my body in order to boast but do not have love, I gain nothing (1 Corinthians 13:1-3).” Love is the beginning of all the fruits of the Spirit. By filling our toolkit with skills like emotional maturity, good communication, and healthy relationship practices, we learn to cultivate awareness of ourselves and those around us. In doing so, we can often see the Spirit remaking our inner being so we become better vessels of love to those around us. Discipleship with these three elements is the process of remaking our character more like Christ, and as the old saying of Heraclitus goes, “Character is destiny.” Once your character is more closely conformed to Christ, the ways in which you behave and believe reflect him as well. Over time, we find ourselves equipped not only to believe and behave well but also to become—all of which are elements to becoming a fully formed disciple. My friends in that little living room church in South Asia knew this well. They believed in Jesus, but they also followed him in doing his mission and loving so well that others were compelled to follow him too. That has been what set believers apart throughout the centuries. That same mission to make disciples and all that entails sits on the shoulders of each of us and our biblical communities. By taking it up, we can participate in turning our corners of the world into Heaven on earth—even if only in small glimpses.

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The Relevant Ache and the Static. 2020. Acrylic paint and mediums on canvas, 18x30in.

Hiding the Patterns in upside down stacking. 2020. Acrylic paint and mediums on canvas, 40x48.

R. Sawan White For over 20 years my work has explored the unseen connections, languages, and relationships that form daily life. Every day I relate, respond, and intertwine with the world around me, often incongruently as I am seen and labeled by it. I see these interactions as overlapping layers; as connecting lines and forms. They build upon each other, creating a life made up of days and minutes and years of things that cannot be seen but foundationally define who I am, whether in my eyes or others. My work turns these into layers of texture and color interplaying with one anotherâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;hiding and exposing. As an artist I view creating as a spiritual practice, a mode of seeking deeper understanding of things we canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t quite reach. Much of art history concerns itself with our fundamental understanding of the sublime, sometimes in abstracted and conceptual ways and sometimes in the capturing and rendering of unfettered realism. I find that art, both in its creation and absorption, can reconcile us to parts of who we are that have been mislaid and forgotten in this tired world. The Unmooring Journal

Liturgy She, like me, was created in your image, Help me remember that I am a reflection of you. She was patient even in heartbreak, Help me to waitâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;on love and promises to be fulfilled. She was faithful, upright, and bold, Help me to do what is right in your eyes with courage of conviction. She lived in the margins and did not use that to disqualify herself, Help me to accept my limitations but to not accept them as excuses. She was not afraid of difficulty and refused to choose the easy path, Help me to trust you in difficult times and to have conviction on the road less traveled. She found favor and blessing through your forgiveness, Help me to seek forgiveness often and to grant it to others freely.

on Strong Women KYLIE RILEY

She did not fear sacrifice, Help me to be selfless. She recognized God at work, Help me to see You and to engage openly where You are at work. She found favor with God through humility, Help me recognize my need for you in all things. She called God a friend, Help me remember that you long for my friendship and your burden is light. God, thank you for Eve, Rachel, Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, Esther, Elizabeth, Mary, Mother of God, Mary Magdalene. Help me to find a reflection of myself in each womanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s encounter with You and grant that I may have my own transformative encounter. AMEN.

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Church Hurts Essay REBEKAH DRUMSTA Going to church can hurt. Like really hurt. As in it can bring on a panic attack or tears and emotional soul wrenching. The weight of years of partial truth on your shoulders pulls down in full force. There are triggers starting in the parking lot. Just making it inside the church building takes outrageous courage. You want to believe. You want to be there. The foyer starts to spin. Your heart beats faster and faster. People around you become a blur. The feeling to run overwhelms. The music and program format are all too familiar. You remember the past. It feels as though someone is slowly wrapping your body in plastic wrap. Before long, your whole body is tight and you can’t hear anything but the pounding inside your head and you finally give in to the desire to escape before your whole being explodes.

Let me ease your mind a bit—it is ok. You are not crazy for feeling like this. It is a symptom of religious or spiritual abuse. You have endured a trauma. I know people who love Jesus and never go to church. But traditional westernized Christianity says it is wrong to not attend church on a weekly basis. Tradition says it is a sin. Tradition says you are a bad person because you are not sitting in a church pew every Sunday morning.

“When the very thing that was supposed to equip you, bless you, teach you, bring you truth—when that thing was actually used as a weapon against you, to manipulate, control and to harm you—it is a

The God you thought you knew, was a humanmade God. Who can you believe? Who is telling the truth? When the very thing that was supposed to equip you, bless you, teach you, bring you truth— when that thing was actually used as a weapon against you, to manipulate, control and to harm you—is a tough pill to swallow. You feel betrayed. Lied to. Deceived and used. 20

The year 2020 and the COVID-19 pandemic is one for the history books. It has changed the world. It has changed how we do church. And more importantly, it is changing why we do church. Hashtags such as #rethinkchurch are surfacing as Christ-followers are ditching walls and denomination labels and choosing instead to be the hands and feet of Jesus by reaching their community’s spiritual, physical and emotional needs—without the use of a brick-and-mortar

church building.

are assembling together, exhorting one another and singing to the Lord.

Church Attendance Many believe that we based Sunday worship services on the Jewish tradition of the Sabbath and from the book of Genesis where God rests on the seventh day. Also, 1 Corinthians describes how to behave when we do come together as a church. Other books in the New Testament give examples of churches thus the term, “New Testament Church.” Our own history and cultures have greatly influenced how we do church now, today, not just the Bible.

When I meet at Starbucks with a friend, sip my latte and discuss theological topics, we are assembling ourselves together. When my husband and I sit at home and discuss what God is teaching us personally and in our marriage, we are assembling ourselves together. When I attend a church service or Bible study and listen to a leader teach, we are assembling ourselves together.

“Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.” — Hebrews 10:25 The above reference is one of the most common scriptures used to explain the need for church attendance. But hold on—it does not say, “go to church every Sunday morning.” It does say, “…not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together.” “Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.” — Ephesians 5:19 “ For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” — Matthew 18:20 When I sit in my living room jamming out hymns and worship songs with friends, we are fulfilling Hebrews 10:25, Ephesians 5:19 and Matthew 18:20. Two or more

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When I pray with a co-worker, we are assembling ourselves together.

The Bible cannot be trusted or is not true.

Need I go on?

The humans who taught them about God missed something and messed it up.

Church Abuse

Trust no one.

Another argument is that if you have become disillusioned while attending church, you must have been looking to man instead of God the whole time.

For me, church attendance has been a journey. A painful and ongoing one. Yup, I am one of those raised in church—since birth.

While this may be the case for some, I have found that most often it is because those people have been abused either by a misuse or misunderstanding of scripture, or by a person claiming biblical authority and truth.

After over five years of intense guilt for not attending Sunday morning services on a regular basis—and feeling ashamed because of that guilt—and forcing myself to attend church only to live through what I described in the opening sentences of this article, I went on staff at a large church.

Children growing up in a church are a product of the culture and teachings of that church. Children are innocent and moldable, vulnerable and trusting. There is a growing number of people who have backed away from church attendance because when they entered adulthood, they began to see that the church they grew up in got it horribly wrong, but yet they are so baffled as to what the truth actually is, they have to get completely away in order to start fresh with the God of the Bible.

This was going to be a “happy medium” for me as I would be going to church with my family every Sunday but since I had a job to do, I did not have to attend services. For a year, this worked beautifully. I was in the church environment without being triggered. What a win! I was focused on my work and distracted by responsibilities on Sundays. The events or programs not on Sundays were great too! I loved being with my family in this way.

This generation—raised in church, biblicallyliterate, experienced in ministry and trained in apologetics— are now trying to change a Christian culture and fundamentalist belief system by drawing a line in the sand by saying no more to spiritual abuse. This movement transcends denomination and creed. It is a call to truth and another spiritual awakening. When spiritual abuse has been realized, individuals often land in one of these camps:

Then, a new staff member joined our team. After only one meeting, they began to stir things and it quickly escalated into a “me or them” situation. I experienced bullying and accusations, something I had not expected from a church staff member old enough to be my parent.

“God’s truth has not changed. His original intent is still intact.”

The God they have learned to obey, serve and follow is a liar. There is no God.

I gave “the church” another chance and it happened again. This person had been church leadership/staff for nearly as long as I had been alive. This experience set me back…years of work.Trigger-Fest 101. I’d been tripped by a good ‘ole stumbling block. While still reeling from the pain, feeling misunderstood and abused, asking questions and in shock—I felt the Holy Spirit speak to my

specialized training in trauma and/or religious abuse is optimal. *Seek a community to support you on this journey. This may be a tribe of people you hang out with all the time or a group you join online. *Allow yourself the time you need to heal. This is not a sprint; it is a triathlon. Do not give yourself a deadline.

heart. “Give yourself permission to never go to church again.” And that is what I did. I cannot tell you the burden that was lifted. The guilt and shame rolled away. Then I heard, “I love you whether you go to church or not.”

Church Detox As a point of clarification, I did not write these words to tell you to never, ever go to church. If you have that pull in your heart to attend church or be part of a faith community—you should go. If you have been wounded by people in church leadership, the misused teachings of the church or have suffered spiritual abuse at the hands of a cultish ministry and it is too painful for you to walk into a place of worship—you do not have to go. Church detox is often necessary for those healing from religious trauma. This is a season of searching. The real Jesus brings life. When you walk in the doors of worship and the life is being sucked right out of you, something is terribly wrong. There are many positive benefits of being part of a healthy church community. When it is time, when you have healed some wounds, perhaps you will find your way back to a pew again. . .maybe not.

But in the meantime, take a deep breath. Again, this is a season, but make it a proactive one. You may feel awkward for a while. You may not have answers to certain moral or political questions like you used to. What you thought that Bible reference

“Do not lose hope. God is not afraid of your questions.” meant, you now discover is completely wrong. Take another deep breath. God’s truth has not changed. His original intent is still intact. God does not love you any less because you cannot go to church. You were lied to. Someone abused you. You are His wounded child. He wants to help bring healing. Search for His truth. Not man’s version of truth. Allow yourself to ask those questions you have always had. This is an exciting time! Do not lose hope. God is not afraid of your questions. The real God is still there, He is waiting for you and understands. Like the wise Jewish sage, Schmidt, from the sitcom New Girl said, “Without ash to rise from, the phoenix would just be another bird getting up.” Do not let your church hurt keep you in the ash. You can rise with wisdom, charity, purpose and yes, a new faith.

I do challenge you to do three things: *Find a psychologist, licensed counselor or certified coach who can help you process your thoughts, emotions and evolving beliefs. Someone with

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beneath the surface: kylie riley 24

I was invited to help create an online journal for Christian women called The Unmooring about two years ago. At that time, I was working on a master’s degree in theology while balancing a full time job and managing mom duties. I was interested in the idea of The Unmooring but the timing was not right for my involvement; however, after graduation and in the midst of the COVID summer, the time had arrived to step into a new calling. I was brought up in an Evangelical church in Texas where, at seventeen, I felt called by God into ministry. My church affirmed the calling and licensed me into ministry but I could not be ordained because of my gender and the denomination’s ideology regarding acceptable women’s roles within the church. Even so, I was excited to be licensed and went away to college with dreams of graduating and working in a church. After graduation, the difficulty of finding a position in vocational ministry became evident and, particularly in the Evangelical church of my upbringing, I found most doors closed to me. It was during this time that I was hired into an interim youth ministry position for the summer at a Methodist church. Ultimately, the position did not become the full-time job I was hoping for but it knitted me into a community of friends that I relied on long after that fateful summer— one of whom later became my husband.

Church taught me to look at “the Church” as one instead of many individual churches and it taught me to appreciate the kaleidoscope that is Christianity. Since that time, I have never again been in vocational ministry and instead have volunteered in many different capacities — teaching Sunday school to children and youth of all ages, leading small groups, helping organize women retreats, etc. However, the struggle between calling and gender remains because there is a limited scope for the voices of women of faith to be heard. The space for our voices is confined by society, by tradition, and, sadly, even our inner selves. We enter into spaces where the dialogue on faith is occurring and we shrink inwardly because of lack of practice and education and even because of expectations. For me, The Unmooring is a remedy to this restricted space. It is breaking away out of the confinement into an expansive vault where there is freedom to speak, share, and learn. It is a pathway to continue to lean into God’s calling in my life and for God to show up in these newly expansive spaces.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. —Isaiah 43:2

After the summer and after many rejections, I found myself employed as the youth minister at a small Episcopal church where I was exposed to high church for the first time. It is ironic, but the liturgical calendar and prayers that were so foreign and strange to me at the time became a practice that I now long for and keep even when we attend churches that do not. The Episcopal

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Meagan Stirling

Digging a Hole. Performance and Photography Series. 2018. Photo Credit: M. Bradley Elliot

The coronavirus pandemic has been comparable to a postpartum experience. During long stretches of isolation from family and friends, I have often found myself confronted with a response similar to what I felt in the early days and weeks after giving birthâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;days running together, the perception that I did not get anything substantial done in the day, loneliness, and the general sense of feeling trapped. It is an eerie feeling to unintentionally revisit the postpartum experience in this unexpected way. __________ During this quarantine experience, the practice of repetitive actions has increased my sense of purpose, much like when I began digging several years ago. I began digging in September; my womb full with my second child. My first child was there too, shovel in hand, picking out rocks and clumps of clay baked by the endless California sun. My shovel dug deep into the soil and struck against a rock. I scraped away the earth and pried it up to make room for the hole. There on my knees in the dirt, I found my own ceremony; bend and dig, bend and dig. My body ached and my boots became earth-colored as I settled into the routine. __________ The daily digging became a ritual formed over time; a hole that grew larger, a metaphor of birth and death. The legacy of Eveâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s exile from Eden was not just about being displaced, becoming an immigrant, but it was about the land being broken, and our relationship with the earth and therefore

our discontent. __________ I remember the dirt associated with childbirth. The baby briskly placed naked on my skin with the dirt of blood, mucus, and substances derived from my own body and from my baby, expunged during the birth process. We were again skin-toskin with the dirt as we were digging together. There is a reciprocity that exists between mother and child; the mother giving to the child, and the child giving back in communion. __________ The act of digging clicked with something inside of me; made sense to me. Imagining my future self, l wondered if I would feel satisfied that I had been present during this time of my life. That kind of nostalgia is lyrically threaded throughout the maternal experience and keeps me rooted in the dirt and gestures towards ongoing hope; living the joy and pain, mother and child inextricably linked.

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Digging a hole to China is something I remember hearing as a child. It stirred my imagination about the scale of the earth and other cultures, other people. I first began digging a hole to China with the desire to know, to understand, to connect in meaningful ways with another culture on the other side of the globe. It is a futile endeavor to dig a hole. And even if it were possible to dig from here to the other side of the earth, I would actually come up somewhere in the vast empty expanse of the south Pacific. Nevertheless, this apparent act of futility ascribed value to the thing desiredâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;connection and relationship with those I do not yet know. I find it comforting to ponder the possibility that the people through whom God chose to live and move in our suffering world, are the very people who may be far more kindred in spirit that I could imagine. __________ Some days I did not want to dig; some days my child refused to dig. Some days I wondered if the point of my art is to unsettle, to question, to disturb what is comfortable and safe. Should that be anyoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s goal as a mother? Is there a conflict here? __________ The pandemic has done strange things to my sense of time; the days are long and yet the months are going by quickly. The digging was connected to time, spanning the third trimester of my pregnancy. The digging could not have been done at any other time, it had to be then. The physicality of digging while pregnant, waiting out the time for my yet unborn child to come presented me again with long days and months that quickly passed.

beneath the surface: b. rubrecht

The Unmooring is a heart project for me. It is casting a line of hope into the future, for myself, for other women, for our daughters. I was raised in a series of non-denominataional churches, where my mother led Bible studies and women’s ministries. We attended several churches growing up, but I spent very little time with Christians my own age. My closest friends came a variety of backgrounds. I ended up attending a small Christian liberal arts college at my mom’s behest, uninterested in my secondary education as a result of crippling depression. At Westmont College I met with a reckoning about Christians. It was in college that I learned the faith background I grew up in was “evangelical.” I had never heard the word before coming to college. The students I lived with and who were my peers were a struggle for me to connect with, let alone love and feel companionship with. Their faith condemned my own as asking too many questions, reading all the wrong books, spending time with people who were not Christian enough. The faculty, however, were inspiring and drew a sharp contrast and I was able to reclaim some of the hope that boundaried me in my earlier years, waiting under a carefully cultivated veneer of cynicism. I was eager to leave my college and graduated a year early. Subsequently I moved to New York City, and began attending St. Bart’s Episcopal Church, enamored with the grandeur and feeling of sacred space in that beautiful cathedral off Park Avenue. Years later, I joined a small, wonderful Episcopal church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, where every Easter the choir would sing Akanamandla. My infant daughter was baptized in a moving service, blessed and marked as Christ’s own forever. I have been to Catholic masses at California missions that are breathtaking, and Orthodox churches full of wonder. I’ve leapt up and down at a Foursquare church while others talked in tongues. I have contemplated and meditated on Russian

icons. I’ve attended a jubilant bar mitzvah at Temple Israel and shared wonderful conversations with Jewish professors at Harvard about the Bible. I have seen God in all of it. The Church—Protestant Christianity of which I have been part of my entire life—especially struggles with equity and offering women a voice alongside men who often occupy leadership roles. Women are relegated frequently to their own studies and/or children’s ministries, or as voices on a worship team. This is good, and necessary, just as it is necessary for men to be part of these critical roles. Too often, though, women’s voices—their thoughts, their insight and observations—have been set aside or eclipsed by patriarchal traditions. Online, women (and even more so women of color) are often part of their own forums and websites, but frequently excluded or minimized in larger conversations about serious issues of faith and theology by the sheer number of men’s voices.

The Unmooring is a small attempt to remedy what seems fundamentally flawed in our understanding of what the Church looks like, what God’s vision for humanity looks like. I pray that this journal provides an opportunity for women who are writing and creating art, both established and emerging, to share their vision and their thoughts. I know that there are brilliant scholars and writers who have been doing this work for longer than I have been alive, and we hope to build on these foundations and their sustained efforts to center women in Christian theological discussions. I am deeply privileged to play a role in curating the bright women who have or will contribute to this journal, hopefully from many faith backgrounds and all over the world, and I pray that Christ will be our strength and our guide as we create more spaces where women are able to share their vibrance.

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NYASHA BHOBO & AUDREY SIMAGO We are young black feminists in our 20s, and live in Zimbabwe, a country located in the southern region of Africa. We are devout members of the United Baptist Church, which was established by American Baptists missionaries who landed on the southern outliers of Africa in late 1800s and pushed inland to convert indigenous black populations. We would like to think our denomination, modelled on the values of the National Baptist Convention of America, is fairly liberal. So, we are keen on serving as pastors someday—church ministers someday—in our 30s or in retirement, except that we face a hill of an obstacle. Women in our denomination are allowed to go to university, study theology, and train as pastors but are not allowed to serve congregations as pastors.

different meanings to different believers around the world. A bit of history: Baptist settler missionaries from the Southern Baptist Convention in Augustina, Georgia (1845) gradually found their way to the southern Indian Ocean shores of Africa. In the late 1800s they landed in what is now called South Africa, and began the task of pushing into the hinterlands to convert native African tribes to Baptist denominational values. Finally, they reached southeast Zimbabwe which is 2000 kilometers inland from their staging post on the southern Indian Ocean. In 1913, the American Baptist missionaries established the first Baptist

“...we are keen on serving as pastors someday—church ministers someday—in our 30s or in retirement, except that we face a hill of an obstacle.”

This has created a humiliating dilemma: in our denomination of 150,000 members and 140 churches, we have hundreds of women theologians, some trained to masters and doctorate levels yet they are simply disallowed from serving congregations as pastors. The reason is this: they are women and only men serve as pastors. This is a frustrating tradition that we thought would change as our country becomes increasingly youthful in demographic and as the internet opens up new ideas. Sadly, 100 years on, the rules are still rigid here.

Who are we, the Baptists? For the benefit of readers, it is important to define our identity of Baptists knowing that “baptist” is a broad term with 32

post here in Zimbabwe, and thus began a process to establish native African Baptist churches. At last they had reached where we live today. In 1950 they formally named our church, The United Baptist Church of Zimbabwe.

So Much Good A lot of good has been brought to our lives and generations in the last 100 years by the Baptists. In our sake, 140 United Baptist churches have been built in Zimbabwe, half a dozen low-fee dormitory schools have been erected, and thus educated even government ministers. Furthermore, half a dozen non-discriminating1 public hospitals have been built thus delivering births, feeding orphans and treating illnesses for

We are Remnants of American Baptists

Women are Not Allowed to be Pastors The Unmooring Journal

free from malaria to tuberculosis to HIV. We, personally, with our fine education and literacy, are beneficiaries of the Baptist legacy of educating both black women and males here in Zimbabwe. The Baptists have helped make Zimbabwe one of the countries with the highest literacy rates on the African country. However, 100 years on, in our church the beliefs of the Baptists are still an obstacle to women’s theological progress.

Women Pastors Can´t Serve In our denomination, in 2020, we have dozens of superbly-educated female believers, doctorates, master’s, and/or bachelor degree holders who have graduated from our very own theology college.2 They are women of zeal, repute and unquestionable academic credentials and usually graduate on top of their class. Except that they can´t serve as pastors in our denomination. As young ladies we have probed questions about this dilemma to our mothers who are devout Baptists. “Why are educated female theologians sitting at back benches in our church?” It was a troubling ask. “St. Paul commanded in First Timothy 2:11-15 that a woman must not lead as a pastor. So says our church,” mused Audrey’s mother, who herself is a university graduate with a degree in history and a high school teacher.

Ratur am nus sinc turio duci as dolupt ibusci do lutatiaer?

This is so unfair, yet this is the whip that the exclusively male board of our church uses to put educated female theologians “in their place.” It is so humiliating every Sunday

1. In Zimbabwe mission hospitals do not discriminate against poor patients who cannot pay for services. 2. Mind you, our church runs a theology college. 3. Exercising free speech is a risky venture in Zimbabwe. Our country has been placed under US sanctions for the last 20 years because our government

to see less-qualified male preachers lead sermons, incorrectly interpret scriptures and conduct Holy Communion while female church theologians (some with PhD degrees) sit at the back of the benches, twiddling their nails and muted. This is an unsettling matter to bring forward publicly in our church. Zimbabwe, the broad society we live in, is a deeply conservative country where the UN Women says only 19% of women are employed above the international poverty line earnings. Moreover, the former bishop of our church used to be a government minister. For female theologians, openly challenging tradition is fraught with risks.3

We are Envious What makes us even more frustrated is that right next door to our church there is a startling difference. The Methodists, they, too, remnants of the American missionaries, are actively educating their women and ordaining them to serve as pastors. It fills our hearts with envy to see female Methodists pastors robed, conducting weddings and presiding over funerals because we would break new ground for later generations of women who come after us and become pastors too. It would steer the flame of feminism and gender justice into our church, which is still male and controlled by sexists in its leadership structures. We want to set an example of starting to undo patriarchy. We thought the advent of the internet and feminist freedoms in our denomination and country would kick away this backward tradition of blocking female pastors. Sadly, we are not there yet.

sometimes jails or assaults critical journalists, pastors, trade unions or human rights lawyers.

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Arlene Salazar

Untitled 1. 2020. Photograph.

This photograph, taken after an intense, beautiful mountain hike— it was a full-circle moment for me. The breathtaking sunset and ice-cold waters made my heart still both physically and metaphorically.

After four hours we made it to one of the tops of the mountain. We made it. . .finally. Stopping to rest, we just stared out to the lakes and surrounding mountains completely amazed. Moments later, Klaas asked me to marry him. Words cannot describe the emotion I felt.

In life, sometimes, I am seemingly impulsive—like deciding to climb a mountain in the Austrian alps with no proper training. And yet even with my impulsivity there is almost always intention accompanied by faith and the hope that something will come of it.

Before meeting Klaas, my faith was in such a strong place that I was discerning if I should become a nun. In a church in Portugal, I told God that I wanted HIM to have his way, I asked him to lead me to my calling and that if he wanted me to discern that He’d create a path for me there, but that if it was okay with Him, I’d love to finally meet my husband. A week later, Klaas entered my life.

Within five minutes of beginning our hike, Klaas and I realized this wasn’t going to be easy. The climb was very steep. He asked me if I wanted to turn back. “No,” I replied, “We are going to get to the top of this mountain.” Personally, I knew I was in no physical condition to finish the hike, but something in me said, “Keep going, keep going.”

But our hiking struggle was not over though. On the way down the mountain I literally felt I wasn’t going to make it. . .I had absolutely no energy left. There were moments I wanted to give up, but there was Klaas, again encouraging me every step of the way. There God was whispering in my ear saying, “You’ll be home soon.” So I kept on going. Finally, as we made it to the bottom, a sense of peace just enveloped me.

I was experiencing a range of emotions but started to pray along the way as I saw different groups of people. There were friends, a family, an old man and a couple just like Klaas and me. Now, when I look back it is almost as if God was trying to show me something. As we hiked, I could not even fathom the beauty I was witnessing. It was especially precious since this experience was being had alongside my life partner. Every step of the way Klaas reassured and encouraged me, stopping to take short breaks when I really needed it. He never once grew angry, he never once made me feel like I was stopping him from reaching the top. He let me set the pace and embraced every little victory. Every time we walked even five more meters he’d check in on me.

I walked into that ice-cold lake and my heart was so still. I knew that no matter the struggle, no matter the pain, God will always provide peace and stillness. He will provide people (aka Klaas) to help encourage me throughout the fight, because God never intended for us to do life alone. Church can mean so many things to people. To me, it is my connection with Jesus, my connections with his people. And that sunset and that view meant more to me than just a beautiful photo to post on Instagram. It meant I was right where I was supposed to be; it was a smile and a hug from God. Through life there are literal ups and downs, but together, people can make it through. You’re never alone, and you can rest assured after all the struggle and accomplishments, He will be there waiting to welcome you home.

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A Story of Christian Selfishness KYLIE RILEY The power and influence of story in the course of human history cannot be overestimated. Stories reflect societal values through which we learn about those who came before us and more importantly, ourselves.

This year the story we have relied upon has shifted and, like a dream that morphs into a nightmare, we were unprepared and are desperately trying to wake up into the story we had been creating before the COVID crisis. The pandemic twist in the plotline has shown us that under the shiny

Stories are more revelatory in essence but they can also be transformative and have the power to connect us to others. We build relationships through the stories we tell and make connections in the shared experience. Story crosses generations—think of the Thanksgiving stories shared year after year, uniting a family. Or friends sipping wine, laughing about that thing that happened ten years ago. Stories such as these thread through our lives and connect us to one another forming beautiful intricate patterns and transforming our lives. The best stories have a compelling protagonist that beats the odds to overcome obstacles in various forms. The protagonist usually has traits that we hold in high regard and even when they are severely flawed, their redeeming virtues allow them to overcome their inner demons—but what do we do when the story veers off course? When the redeeming virtue becomes a liability?

veneer of independence and freedom hides sickly selfishness.1 In fact, the American ideology of self-interest is so prevalent that even before the pandemic, a 2013 Stanford University study revealed that “if you need an American to do something, don’t mention the common good, team work or

caring for others.”2 The propensity for independence and self-interest discovered in the study are the very character traits that we, as Americans, have held in high regard. These same traits are a liability and an encumbrance. The American story that defines our cultural identity flaunts values that have become terrible liabilities during a pandemic. “Land of the free and home of the brave” morphs into “land of the selfish and home of the brash” through the refusal to look out for the vulnerable with simple acts, such as mask-wearing, because of its inconvenience to an individual self. American pillars of

freedom and bravery are now epitomized by egocentric and rude actions incorrectly labeled as heroic demonstrations of individualism. This has been specifically true when we examine the response to COVID-19. Paul Krugman wrote in

The New York Times that “What they call ‘freedom’ is actually absence of responsibility. . .Rational policy in a pandemic, however, is all about taking responsibility.”3 The COVID crisis has unmasked the American perception of freedom to reveal a lack of personal or collective responsibility. In the freshlyexposed American story, responsibility seems to extend no further than our own self-interests and freedom means only to act in whatever manner suits yourself without consideration for anyone else. The selfishness seen during the last nine months is a dangerous irresponsibility that Jesus warns against in the Gospel of Matthew: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the plate, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.”4 Unfortunately, the self-indulgence that infects our country has also been exposed in our churches. Time and again church leaders have flagrantly disregarded the Center for Disease Control’s guidelines and recommendations by continuing to hold meetings and events even in communities where COVID-19 cases have been spiking. In shocking irreverence, Sean Feucht, an evangelist, politician and musician, held “worship events” on New Year’s Eve in vulnerable communities calling the events “Jesus Christ Super Spreaders” bringing shame and pharisaical hypocrisy to the faith that he is brazenly representing. This brand of Christianity has become so entwined with the story of American freedom that criticism and rebuke are not possible without self-condemnation thus leaving many churches in a position of inauthentic neutrality—impotent or unwilling to speak against the corruptive self-interests disguised in the veneration of freedom and independence over faith and love. We are learning through one painful new cycle to the next that the story

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of “freedom” and “independence” that supposedly reflect the values of our society and faith does not apply to everyone. The fabled story of American freedom was scripted out of a need to cover over the sickness of selfishness with a more honorable value; however, egotism has been a cloaked tenant of the American story from the beginning. As noted by Jewish writer Elad Nehorai, “This is the philosophy of selfishness. And it’s one that has been bred in Americans since its creation. . . .A philosophy so deeply ingrained that it took the deadliest war in American history to simply begin to break the idea that whites could only prosper when they treated others like animals.”5 It is not our bootstraps that lift us up, as the myth has perpetuated. Sadly, we have been stepping on marginalized groups to rise up using freedom, independence and bravery to cover a wide array of inexcusable, selfish behavior, beginning with our treatment of Native People groups, through the abhorrent practice of slavery, to the formation of systemic racism that permeates all areas of society. The confusion between independence and selfishness exists because we attribute self-seeking as an individual sin, not a cultural moral defect. Yet the Bible tells us that “for where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind.”6 Despite the disorder in our communities revealing selfishness as a social sin, it has been too easy to label it as a personal issue which can only be addressed by the individual. However, we need to recognize that egocentric behavior is not just a personal defect but a cultural one that requires more than resolution at the individual level—it requires a new story to reshape the moral fabric of our collective culture.

We need new values to redeem the American story, one that relies on a philosophy of consideration. A story that does not cover past mistakes by romanticizing them, but recognizes error with acknowledgement, true remorse, and repentance. If we let it, the COVID-19 nightmare can awaken an honest creativity; one where we value relationships in our community built around caring for others, not self-interest. We must reacquaint the American story to freedom and independence by adding a new chapter where our collective virtues cannot become liabilities and true liberation is for all people. In this new chapter, true liberation does not exist at the expense of others but it exists at the expense of our own selfish desires. Ultimate freedom is the selfless act of placing others’ needs above your own desires creating a powerful, transformative story that mirrors the life and sacrifice of Jesus.

“The confusion between independence and selfishness exists because we attribute selfishness to an individual character flaw, not a cultural moral defect.”

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.7

Jesus’ redemptive work on earth is the ultimate story of selflessness. It is a story that is so powerful in its ability to transform that it can redeem both the individual AND cultural moral failings of selfishness. Self-reliance as a virtue will fail us here as well, so we must find hope outside the story that we have so long relied upon. The sickness of selfishness can only be overcome when we put our reliance on Jesus as the source for transformation. As Martin Luther King Jr. stated, “America, you must be born again.” And so we must. The old must be washed away by embracing an identity that honors others above ourselves. A story that creates a cultural identity that venerates interdependence and caring will transform our society paving the way for true freedom.

sweat. The room was small and overcrowded and the teacher asked us to link arms while balancing—to disregard our individual comfort. So, dripping with sweat, we each linked arms with our neighbors to find balance collectively. We steadied each other and found that we could balance on one leg longer as a linked unit. Truly, we were stronger together than when we acted as individuals. We had to trade our freedom for consideration for the other—my weakness made strong in the other and vice versa. What if we embrace this as our American story—shaking off the chains of oppression, fear, and selfishness to link arms with our neighbor to find greater strength and support—a cult of consideration.

Above all the grace and the gifts that Christ gives to his beloved is that of overcoming self. —St. Francis of Assisi

In my heated yoga class (pre-pandemic, of course) our instructor had us transition into a balance pose. We were nearing the end of the 90-minute class, tired and covered in 1. Krugman, Paul, “The Cult of Selfishness is Killing America,” The New York Times, July 27, 2020. 2. Ferro, Shaunacy, “Science Confirms The Obvious: Americans Are Selfish,” Popular Science. January 28, 2013, https://www.popsci.com/science/ article/2013-01/science-confirms-obvious-americansare-selfish/.

3. Krugman, Paul, “The Cult of Selfishness is Killing America,” The New York Times, July 27, 2020. 4. Matthew 23:25 5. Nehorai, Elad, “The Philosophy of Selfishnessw is Destroying America,” PopChassid, January 31, 2018. 6. James 3:16 7. Philippians 2:3-8

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Liturgy for Healing from Divorce LANA PHILLIPS Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

I got a divorce. Where there is injury, pardon;

I lost all the friends I ever had and live alone. Where there is doubt, faith;

I lost every earthly emotional connection. Where there is despair, hope;

I live each day in isolation with nothing but my pets and my words. Where there is darkness, light;

I find myself through those words. And where there is sadness, joy;

I write words that can only come from you. O Divine Master, grant that I may Not so much seek to be consoled as to console

May these words console others as they console me. To be understood, as to understand;

May these words shine light on the Truth. To be loved, as to love;

May these words show love for those who need it. For it is in giving that we receive

May these words come back to me a thousandfold. And itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s in pardoning that we are pardoned.

May these words bring amazing grace. And itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s in dying that we are born to Eternal Life

This is amazing grace.

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My first creative design commission came when I was still in junior high. I remember the feeling of satisfaction inside when I saw my t-shirt design being worn and printed materials being distributed. This helped usher in a life-long love of communicating through words and design.

without hindrance because of gender, abuse, mind control or lack of support. Frequently, we have meaningful discussions about God and mental health, learning to respect others’ perspectives, and also how to be aware when a leader or idea is not sound.

While in the middle of her own creative project, my curly-headed little daughter made a mistake. She then nonchalantly turned and said to me, “It’s ok, Mom, I need to fail so I can learn.” This was one of those moments in motherhood that I will always remember. As a girl being raised in Christian fundamentalism with influences from religious cults groups, perfection was expected of me. My appearance, beliefs, and behavior were meticulously curated. And yet there my own child sat, embracing her imperfection, finding it a time for growth not self-loathing or shameful.

Throughout romantic literature I have often discovered three classic female types: those content to quietly let things happen as they will, those who manipulate to get what they want, and those who boldly push forward with truth and in so doing often alter their family, life and culture for good.

Once, I was asked how my own journey can serve my daughter and why does it matter? For a season, I doubted the benefit. I felt selfish as I processed personal hurts. Spiritual abuse is still a new term to the world, but I carry the invisible scars it has inflicted. The walk towards truth and healing is never short and mine has encompassed my daughter’s life. She has walked alongside me on this path. I heal so my daughter will not have to fight this same generational trauma. I stand up so those coming behind me will not have to fight against a patriarchal or abusive faith from within the church. I work to help others heal the wounds given to them by those claiming faith or God. I speak to educate and encourage others to consider if what they believe is harmful. I write to communicate the truth and tell my story. These things are all examples to my daughter of how to be a strong woman. Not a woman who has all the answers or has life figured out, but a woman not willing to let the pain or abuses inflicted by others chart her course, faith or beliefs. I want my daughter to know that it’s ok to change your mind when you learn new facts. I want her to value supporting others and those who are hurting. I want her to use her amazing born-with mind, gifts and personal strengths

This is why projects such as The Unmooring are important. It is a statement to the world that as a collective of women we agree to not stand by quietly and just let things happen. We will not use tactics of manipulation but rather join as one voice, sharing our experiences and hearts to help shape the future for ourselves and our children.

beneath the surface: rebekah drumsta The Unmooring Journal

Christy Phelps Little Girl Wishes. Oil on canvas, 11x14 in.

Grieving Woman. Oil on canvas, 24x26 in.

Grieving Woman This Grieving Woman oil painting is a self-portrait of my life’s most difficult moments. From losing a parent to cancer when I was eight years old, to living through my own health complications, as well as the deaths of other close loved ones and relationships, my heart is acquainted with grief. My appreciation for life’s beauty and wonderful moments is amplified by the memories of darker days. Depicting this in an oil painting required vulnerability, accessing the concealed rawness of pain and loss deep inside my soul. The process was comforting and healing.

Little Girl Wishes This is an oil painting portrait of my youngest daughter. She has always been a courageous beam of sunshine and sweetness, but I loved the vulnerability of this moment, when she delicately blew a dandelion and made a wish. May our powerful dreams and successes be inspired by our hearts’ wishes. The Unmooring Journal

Religious Conversion, Dialogue or Freedom CAROLINE C. HENNE “Look, Mom—Hanukkah candles! It’s the second night,” said my daughter as we were out walking the dog in the neighborhood after dinner. I squinted at the illuminated menorah in our neighbor’s window. “No, sweetie, I see three candles there.” “But, Mom!” she protested, “one of them is the helper candle! I heard about it at school.” I let it go because I was a bit confused at the time but, when I later checked with the real calendar, I saw that she was right! As it turns out, my 5-year-old knows more about Hanukkah than I do, learning about the menorah from a preschool teacher and fellow student whose families observe the holiday. “Hanukkah is fun,” she noted, “although we don’t celebrate it in our family.” And off she ran. Part of why this interaction surprised me is I realized that this was the first time I could think of that either of my kids had really come in contact with the traditions of another religion. Although our children are both baptized in a progressive Christian denomination and we regularly attended church in pre-COVID times, religion is not a dominant part of the culture in our home state of Vermont. In all likelihood, my kids have never had another conversation about religious stories or beliefs outside of our own family and church. As a born-and-raised Southern Baptist from North Carolina who explored a variety of Christian denominations and is now a progressive Episcopalian, religious belief and practice has been a major part of my thinking and formation through my whole life. A key part of my own journey has been learning about other religious faiths, and

coming to know and respect many practitioners from them. I am still thinking through exactly how to help my own kids have positive and respectful interactions with practitioners of other faiths, and I realized that they might already be way ahead of me. It is easy to forget that a religiously pluralist community, where one regularly comes into contact with members, gathering places, or visible traditions of other religions—in a country where the safety of all religious practitioners is protected by the authority of a state—is somewhat unusual historically. It is not so long ago, in Western European history, that religious wars turned on various questions of Catholic versus Protestant practice (and a number of warring sects among them), and the public challenging of the ruling religious affiliation of one’s country could mean imprisonment, torture, and even death. Even recent history is marked by invasions, wars, and atrocities perpetrated in the name of forcibly spreading a religion or exterminating members of another. The appearance and escalation of religious-driven terrorism is unfortunately one that many of us have lived through in the last forty years and events as recent as the harassment of Black churches in DC during alt-right protests show that the place of religious houses of worship is not totally secure even in those places with norms of religious freedom. Even those who live in religiously pluralists countries still may not experience interaction with

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other religious groups regularly, which was my own experience growing up—in my small North Carolina town, almost everyone I knew of went to a conservative, Protestant church. It was easy in such a situation to grow up knowing almost nothing of any religious practice other than my own because I simply did not come into contact with members of other groups regularly. My understanding of other religions came mainly from our Southern Baptist denominational missions organizations and activities, and from movies. When my middle school social studies teachers tried to introduce the start of Islam as part of a world history unit, the only Muslim character we could think of was played by Morgan Freeman, in the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, (which dates me but also shows the limited exposure of my town, and many others like it, to religious practice outside of American Christianity). My church lens of missions work saw other religions primarily as fields for converts, who needed to be shown the error of their ways and brought to the light of the true faith. These two influences of church and media resulted

in a sense of other religions as strange, distant, and vaguely threatening, even though I had no practical experience with people who actually practiced any other religions. My views evolved when I had the opportunity to really study other world religions, particularly in college and graduate school, and I read the histories and sacred texts (in translation) of major traditions such as Hinduism, Buddhism, and Islam, and Judaism. While these religions became less threatening, and more fascinating as I studied them, they retained a sense of strangeness and tension with my own beliefs—like a puzzle I was trying to figure out. After all, these religious systems all have true differences with my Christian commitments, both in their doctrinal approaches to the world and the spiritual realm and their specific directives for living a faithful life. I began to seriously study “apologetics”, or various “proofs” that have been offered throughout Christian history to definitely “prove” the truth of Christianity and the falsity of other religions and beliefs. These arguments range

from logical proofs about the existence and nature of God from famous theologians and philosophers to historic research and archaeological findings seeking to prove, for example, that Jesus actually existed and is attested to by extra-biblical sources. On the other side, disproving other religious teachings may include pointing out what appear to be logical or textual inconsistencies, arguing for the superiority of Christian teachings and figures in direct comparison with those of other religions, and digging into the details of the teachings and practice of other religious sects with an eye to potential flaws. To me, this was an appealing approach because it felt like true engagement with other religions, and I came to focus particularly on Islam, to the point where I researched traditions of Sufi poetry (a form of mystical Islamic practice), Islamic political history and thought, and even learned some Qu’ranic Arabic (a form of classical Arabic used in the Qu’ran, considered to be directly dictated to Muhammad by God). It felt as though I could understand other religious systems, such as the various sects of Islam, in detail, and still

to your religion—it was in dispelling the doubts of those who already believed. In the midst of this time, I also had the opportunity, for the first time in my life, to live and travel in other countries where I was distinctly in the religious minority. I worked in two Muslimmajority countries, Syria and Jordan, where I was surrounded by Muslim-influenced architecture, clothing styles, and daily practice, where the call to prayer rings out over loud speakers multiple times a day, and the smells and tastes of holidays like Ramadan could be found at the market down my street. I was excited to learn and experience all I could—but was unsure exactly whether and how to be explicit about my own Christian beliefs when interacting with my Muslim co-workers and neighbors. I was not, by that point, interested in trying to convert anyone, but I did still find the differences and potential conflicts between my own faith and those of the people surrounding me to be interesting and urgent. I gradually found that these differences from my own religious faith and practice were not necessarily a barrier to relationships and friendships and came to

“But, eventually I hit a wall – on the occasions when I did talk to people who practiced these religions, my arguments weren’t particularly convincing in light of their own religious experience...” muster convincing arguments against them; for a time, this was a source of religious confidence and comfort to me. But, eventually I hit a wall— on the occasions when I did talk to people who practiced these religions, my arguments weren’t particularly convincing in light of their own religious experience and participation in their religious community. They often raised similar arguments against my own Christian heritage, and I began to feel more hesitancy about this approach; I eventually came to agree with a seminary professor who believed that the greatest value of apologetic exercises that were supposed to prove the truth of Christianity and disprove other belief systems was not in the “missional” project of converting others

be friends with many Muslim co-workers and neighbors. This now seems like a very obvious point, but I found that the set of beliefs I considered to be a “religion” could not be separated from the individuals and communities actually practicing that religion; just as in my Christian community, there was a range of relationships I might have, from friendship to animosity, rather than a black and white group of “in” or “out”, I met and interacted with members of other faiths in many types of relationships, some close and friendly and some a bit hostile, but often not due to our overt religious differences. When I left the American evangelical tradition

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for good, shortly after returning from my second stint overseas, I also left behind the approach to other religions as primarily grounds for converts or fascinating intellectual puzzles. The progressive Christian denominations where I have attended since then tend to focus on what all humans, of any religion, have in common rather than what may divide them. In this view, the most urgent problems, such as poverty, racism, and climate change, affect people of all religions equally and the focus is on uniting however we can to fight these greater challenges. While this approach felt very freeing to me in many ways, I did wonder where it left me in relation to believers in other faiths—just ignore our differences and seek to meet in support of worthy, but secular, causes? I did attend a conference, as a representative of one progressive denomination, designed to foster interreligious dialogue. It was attended by members representing a range of religious groups, including Islam, Mormonism, Catholicism, and Buddhism. I sat in a number of panels and open dialogues, and found that the emphasis was, at first, on what we could agree was “similar” about our traditions— broad commitments such as respect for human life, interest in the divine and spiritual practice generally, and a desire to foster relationships and peace among our groups. But the agreement broke down quickly around key issues such as acceptable leadership and marital structures (can women and LGBTQ people be leaders? who can marry?), what to prioritize for social action (poverty? racism? protecting your group’s way of life and practice?), and how to move forward any concrete steps resulting from the conference.

While I found this to be an interesting exercise, I wondered about the value of this kind of dialogue—had anyone really learned anything new about other religions, or even about their own? There were few concrete results that I could see, other than scheduling another conference for the following year—but, thinking back, I could see the value in being in the room with actual believers in other faiths, and talking directly to them in a way that is not always comfortable. It forced me to, again, see that religions cannot be separated from the individuals and congregations that practice them—and that relationship and even friendship is possible even among those of differing religious commitments. Underlying all this is the fact that, at least in the United States, we all live in an increasingly “nonreligious” society, where the number of those willing to identify their religious affiliation as “none” increases every year. This is especially true in my home state of Vermont, which usually is in the running for least religious state in the country; while I have, of course, met other church-goers on occasion, religion is just not as culturally influential here as where I grew up. On top of these social trends, the pandemic of the last year has presented more difficulties to pursuing consistent religious practice. While I greatly appreciate my own congregation’s efforts to keep services going over Zoom, my young children simply do not engage effectively with other congregants that way, and we have had to mostly make do on our own. The lack of the religious structure and community connection that in-person gathering brings has been a challenge for all religious groups during the pandemic; without the normal reminders of my religious framework, it has been a struggle not to simply follow the ups and downs of the daily news cycle as my defining source of information and emotional stability (or lack thereof).

For this reason, I am coming to view my fellow copractitioners of religion, Christian or not, with even more sympathy and respect when I see attempts to keep up faithful practice and compassionate

presidential administration that sought a Muslim travel ban. The pressures and grief of the pandemic could bring even more such threats to bear against religious practice, and I am committed to seeking religious freedom and safety particularly for minority religious groups that are vulnerable to both physical and political attacks.

“...I am coming to view my fellow co-practitioners of religion, Christian or not, with even more sympathy and respect when I see attempts to keep up faithful practice and compassionate outreach...” outreach; this is one of the reasons I was so happy to see my neighbors’ Hanukkah candles in the window and find out more about them from my daughter. There is much to discourage faith and consistent participation in religious activities in our current situation; but, even from a distance, I am encouraged to see that others are still trying. I do continue to wonder whether I should be trying to convert, find common ground, or simply be friends with those committed to other religious faiths. In 2020, this often has meant only an occasional wave across the park or email greeting, but I was again given a great reminder of connection across even COVID restrictions when we received an influx of holiday cards, including a few non-Christmas holiday greetings. I similarly paid more attention to the email wishes of “Eid Mubarak!” I received in July from Middle Eastern friends and organizations (which are greetings for a happy Eid, a major Muslim holiday in many countries). This year, I have received all these holiday greetings as more than polite formalities, but as a kind effort to share some hope and light even across religious traditions in the midst of a very dark year.

As my own paradigm of relating to other religions has shifted from one of suspicion and intellectualizing to relationshipbuilding and respect for co-practitioners, there are always new sources of tension, and potential conflict, when religious groups and individuals with different understandings of the world and spirituality come into contact. I hope to pass on to my own kids a curiosity about and appreciation for the many religious traditions that are represented in our country and our own community. Like me, they may even come to find some encouragement and inspiration from practitioners outside their own tradition; and this year I have certainly been glad to find some light where I can.

I am also reminded that, even pre-COVID, there were regular threats to safe religious practice in our own country, with synagogues and Black churches suffering horrible attacks in recent years and a

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Supply us now with comfort so that we may have the courage to face what each day brings.

NANCY DEPEW

A Prayer

Father we are so grateful that your love for us knows no bounds.

Allow us to feel your presence when we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know what to do. * * * Give us your wisdom in the decisions we make and the power to let things go when we need to. Give us your words to speak to others and help us to know when to be still. * * * Forgive us for our failings, leaving us grateful that your love covers us. Help us to never lose sight of you knowing that, Bidden or unbidden you are always present. We ask these things in your Holy name, Amen.

Ebb Tide

Look at the nations, and see! Be astonished! Be astounded! For a work is being done in your days that you would not believe if you were told. Habakkuk 1:5

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The Unmooring is an online journal that explores critical issues of faith through women’s voices. We look to both ancient writing and wisdom as well as contemporary commentary as a means to create dialogue. We are navigating everchanging waters. We are, in this moment, unmoored but not adrift. Rather, we look to create space where women can discuss, debate, argue and read new voices on subjects of faith, foundations and Christ. We are eager to hear every voice that questions and seeks out truth and is willing to wrestle angels to find a way forward. We hope we find a way, tethered as we are to Christ, to create new spaces, new moorings—be they temporary or fixed, like a star. Read more about who we are and what we’re doing here. If you’d like to subscribe to our newsletter for updates, sign up here!