Do we know our story?
In recent years, much genealogical work has been done to understand the Protestant dimensions of the Enlightenment, especially as it relates to the development of liberal democracy over time. In one sense, the work of revealing what lies at our roots helps us to better understand where we came from – it also helps us to understand where we are now and may even give us insight to consider where we might have to go.
In a philosophical sense, the Kantian turn moved God outside the bounds of what we can know, reframing metaphysics as essentially an epistemological project. Freedom and immortality were no longer bound exclusively to religious belief and practice, and political activity could now be conceived as a project independent from earlier notions of divinely appointed monarchy. As liberal democracy (and secularity) emerged, so too did the sense that one day the religious question would be “resolved.”
But faith, especially in the American context, remains varied, relevant, and enigmatic. Much has been written, for example, to explain the rise of the “nones”, the group of people who reject formal participation and commitment to established religious institutions while still maintaining some belief in spirituality or the divine. My own view, from the limited perch that I sit on, wonders about the disenchantment that occurs when faith communities look no different than our political centers of power – if the violence of the state, whether it be economic, political, or physical, can not be differentiated from our religious systems, then one might reasonably ask what value and meaning our religious practices and beliefs have.
At the same time, secularity is not always an attractive alternative. Many of the major moments of social change in our country have been led by religious folks seemingly dragging the institutional and cultural practices of the state forward. Religious beliefs have been key in disrupting domination narratives that would have otherwise been content to stay as they were.
Our narratives of faith and state are contested – our beliefs about their origin and development over time, while grounded in various theological and historical commitments, often include a healthy dose of mythmaking. Even our name, “The Rhode Island State Council of Churches” inhabits this contested history. We are a product of certain theological commitments grounded in certain political notions of what it means to be civically and religiously minded.
I have been dismayed to see not only a rise in violent political rhetoric, but also a matching form within certain religious spheres. For me, love remains the essential core of my work – it informs my thinking and being in the world and compels me to choose the house of love over the house of fear.
For those who are energized by our legislative work, please continue to check our initiatives page and reach out to your elected representatives. There are many items that we continue to advocate for, including payday lending reform and shield laws protecting librarians and medical providers.
We continue to increase training offerings for religious workers, with new opportunities for continued learning in the fall. Right now, we are hosting our first Merciful Conversations on Race training program of 2024, and look to continue to expand that work in the months ahead. And we are gearing up for the return of our Heroes of Faith breakfast on October 31st!
I remain grateful for the tremendous work of the Rhode Island State Council of Churches, and for its powerful witness in the years to come.
