body

My upbringing made me a Platonist. Motherhood made me an Aristotelian. I never left either behind.

The church is a body: scarred and punctured but feeling its way through the world.

To build the Beloved Community, we need to think and talk and act differently about bodies.

After each service, I sweep up the dirt, specks of plastic, and tendrils of hair.

When illness took over my life, I developed a new understanding of the Eucharist.

I tried it—and I began to experience God in places other than my head.

Poet Molly McCully Brown’s memoir of life with cerebral palsy