"AN ABANDONED ROAD"
There is a path now where once there was a road
Where smooth brown earth and jaded rocks
Fell away in deep depression
The trail of wheels and neighing horses and of lighter walks
It grows thick and tall, the grass that was once held at bay
Dared not to rise where tramping feet would crush
But staged on edge where cruel ungainly winds
Vent their wrath unceasingly with rain and dust
It has conquered now, for slowly the grinding ceased
And the lighter steps dwindled with the laughter it had known
It dared to rise between the ruts and bend
To hide the scars from some stray steps that roam
And intrude upon their sanctuary, where conquered winds
Hold not the lash of yore, but with gentleness obey
The lull moods of quiet rains, the brushed air
That shrouds the stillness of an abandoned road

Progressive faith is at a crossroads. Liberal pulpits ring with grand sermons about the arc that bends toward justice and about progress "onward and upward forever." Meanwhile, the people in the pews struggle to attend to the suffering of their souls and the tragic aspects of life. In this engaging polemic, using stories and metaphor, Nancy McDonald Ladd issues a call for change. Speaking from a rising generation of clergy and lay leaders who formed their commitments to liberal religion at the end of the optimistic modernist age, she shows how the religious life is not characterised by endless human advancement, but by lurching movement, crisis management and pain. With humour and humanity, Ladd calls religious progressives to greater authenticity and truth-telling rather than blind optimism. She charts a course forward that includes reclaiming rituals of atonement and lament and becoming more vulnerable and accountable in our relationships. She shows how, together, we might build a necessary and greater resilience among ourselves and for the generations to come.

"AN ABANDONED ROAD"
There is a path now where once there was a road
Where smooth brown earth and jaded rocks
Fell away in deep depression
The trail of wheels and neighing horses and of lighter walks
It grows thick and tall, the grass that was once held at bay
Dared not to rise where tramping feet would crush
But staged on edge where cruel ungainly winds
Vent their wrath unceasingly with rain and dust
It has conquered now, for slowly the grinding ceased
And the lighter steps dwindled with the laughter it had known
It dared to rise between the ruts and bend
To hide the scars from some stray steps that roam
And intrude upon their sanctuary, where conquered winds
Hold not the lash of yore, but with gentleness obey
The lull moods of quiet rains, the brushed air
That shrouds the stillness of an abandoned road