![]() ![]() It’s not really about where we would go, though. There’s a part of my identity and memory prior to the church. Or in one of those Anglican churches with old-fashioned liturgy but social justice politics. Because I keep wanting to answer, “I can think of a whole lot of places I’d go, actually.” I could see myself in a synagogue, rediscovering the ancient faith of my foremothers, where I have often found peace. Perhaps they’ve been granted some vision of redemption I’ve never seen. And maybe these people have a solider faith than mine. “Where else would I go?” some have said, echoing the words of Peter to Christ. Some have been told our faith is insufficiently strong if we’re even thinking of giving up. ![]() But we also encounter surprise, disapproval, even coercion. Sometimes in these conversations we are met with compassion. And the conversations happen, in person or online, furtively or with open anger: What do I do now? Can I stay in this church? Is this when I leave? Do I stay and reform? But how? In recent weeks, many have felt the faith on which we built our lives shifting beneath us, no longer sturdy rock but treacherous sand. ![]()
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