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“I don’t even know whether I want to be remembered. That doesn’t really enter into my kind of scheme of life. I was thinking maybe I would like to have on my tombstone something like, ‘Thank God it was never dull.’” —Daniel Berrigan, from “Taking Peacemaking Seriously” by John Griffin, Fellowship magazine, 2006 Thanks to the generous support of friends and family,

Yesterday, 111 lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender United Methodist clergypersons came out in an historic open letter to the denomination. Incredibly still in 2016, the United Methodist Church does not ordain openly gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender individuals, the last of the mainline Protestant denominations to fail to affirm this essential equality. I have been a part of the leadership group planning this

write to you from New York City, to which I traveled 2,000 miles to join five other FOR global leaders at the first-ever United Nations Special Session on the World Drug Problem (UNGASS). This UN summit has deep personal meaning for me because my family bears the scars of the terrible misconception that policing and the stigmatization of addiction can cure a societal illness.

write to you from New York City, to which I traveled 2,000 miles to join five other FOR global leaders at the first-ever United Nations Special Session on the World Drug Problem (UNGASS). This UN summit has deep personal meaning for me because my family bears the scars of the terrible misconception that policing and the stigmatization of addiction can cure a societal illness.

In 2009, the United Nations put forth a multilateral response to the global drug problem. The scourge of the drug trade contributes to untold human rights violations, massive corruption, and violence that perpetuate brokenness and suffering on a worldwide scale. The U.N. plan suggested that the solution must include “(a) more development assistance to reduce supply and (b) more attention

“Justice dies when dehumanized, no matter how exactly it may be exercised.” —Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel A Story Several years ago, an elderly black man was seated at the table inside his tiny studio apartment in Denver, Colorado, alongside his brother and two old friends. Suddenly, the window shattered from the blow of a billy club, while the front door was simultaneously