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Informationen zum Autor Amy Butler Klappentext From one of America’s most prominent ministers comes an inspiring, provocative reflection on the necessity of community, the inevitability of conflict, and the transformative power of radical love. “I so love and admire the work and witness of Pastor Amy Butler.”—Anne Lamott “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid,” said theologian Frederick Buechner. Pastor Amy Butler, the first woman at the helm of New York’s historic Riverside Church, knows firsthand that to navigate such a world, one must be courageous, honest, and compassionate. In Beautiful and Terrible Things, Pastor Amy draws on the most meaningful, challenging, and soul-shaking moments of her own life to offer larger lessons on theology and relationships. Pastor Amy grew up in a conservative Evangelical family in the diverse culture of the Hawaiian Islands. As she realized she was more inclined to be a pastor than to marry one, she began an unlikely journey, breaking one stained-glass ceiling after another. Holding increasingly high-profile ministry positions in New Orleans, Washington, D.C., and New York City, Amy weathered rigidly unwelcoming congregations and enormous trials, ultimately learning that only the radical love of community could generate healing. As she describes her experiences leading a church to publicly affirm its LGBTQ community members, losing a child, and undergoing an unexpected divorce, Amy offers a thoughtful lens on all the ways life can push us to see the world from another’s perspective. In her signature compassionate, witty voice, she offers fresh, nonjudgmental perspectives on faith—which, at its most beautiful expression, allows for the possibility that there is more than one way to experience God. Leseprobe 1 A Dog on Hind Legs It was a hot Texas day, the kind when the air conditioners ice the inside of the buildings and when you step outside the heat hits you in the face like you’re walking into a brick wall. It was my sophomore year in college and it was early afternoon—universally the worst time of the day to be in any class. I’d always been a great rule-follower, and going to college was what I was supposed to do. Every day I sat in class so I could meet requirements, graduate, and?.?.?.?get married? But beyond checking boxes, my classes led me to notice new ideas that stretched me to think in ways I’d never considered before. I sat in History of Catholicism and began making associations between what I was learning and how I experienced the world. I registered for courses that were taught by brilliant, accomplished female professors. Shocking even myself, I started to imagine myself in a role like that—one in which I led a room instead of sitting obediently in the crowd. I attended lectures in which I was introduced to ideas I’d never heard before. Feminism? Pacifism? They all seemed foreign and, because of their unfamiliarity, a little sinister—but oh, so exciting. I’d come to college with the vague ambition of studying history, but more and more my attention was captured by courses in the religion department. I didn’t give much thought to what I would do after I graduated. I saw only one trajectory in the lives of the women around me: good grades and, eventually, a nice Christian husband. Without giving it much thought, I assumed that would be my path, too. On that hot Texas afternoon in my sophomore year of college, I walked into my Women in American Religion class, an elective I’d added to my schedule after several semesters of religion courses. I admired the professor, the only woman on the faculty of the otherwise all-male religion department. Curiously, there happened to be only a few women in the class; most of the students were male upperclassmen finishing religion degrees and in need of electives...
