As I gathered my things to leave on the final day of my sacred activism class, a student quietly passed me a note, doing so with a shy reserve, but clearly intent on making sure I received it.
“Ms. Adams, you are a great leader and role model. I’ve learned a lot this year about sacred activism, and it helps me with how I see the world.”
That note made my day, my month, even my year. My students came from privileged backgrounds, educated in private school settings and surrounded by opportunity. I was worried that my teaching might fall on deaf ears, shaped as these high schoolers were by affluence and the shortened attention spans often attributed to their generation. My intent was to help change their worldview. And with this note, I felt that mission was accomplished.
Although the class material was primarily historical, our recent social and political climate had closely mirrored those of the eras we studied, almost to a frightening degree. Even as the course unfolded, mass protests and confrontations rooted in deep political polarization, along with widespread concern about executive power, civil liberties and immigration enforcement practices, were social justice issues at the forefront of the news headlines.
Amid all this, just weeks before the course was to end, a striking example of sacred activism emerged: a group of Buddhist monks walking 2,300 miles — from Texas to Washington, D.C. — to promote inner peace, compassion and national unity. So much came full circle during that semester. It was a tremendous responsibility to guide the minds of a room full of teenagers amid such social upheaval.
I wondered if it was a coincidence, my teaching this course during such a complex time. But I could trace the roots of the class back to 2007.
I was a second-year student at Princeton Theological Seminary just beginning to water the seeds of passion for theology and justice as a young adult. That year, I took an elective class called Religious Radicals taught by renowned author and scholar Albert Raboteau. I wasn’t a dominant personality. I didn’t feel like I had a voice as profound as that of my classmates. But I knew I wanted to do something meaningful, and I knew I wanted to make a mark in this world. I just wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Raboteau introduced us to leaders whose activism all looked very different. His class highlighted how these “religious radicals” used their spiritual authority to challenge society and create movements for meaningful change — demonstrating the powerful intersection of faith and social responsibility.
It offered me a new perspective for thinking about the work of justice through the lens of faith. I was so inspired that decades later I would model my sacred activism course after his.
Throughout my life, I have been exposed to many different institutions, churches and spaces where everyday people live out their faith through sacred activism. I have studied at the feet of distinguished scholars, pastors and leaders who have chosen to live in ways that made real their faith through their works.
I teach my students about leaders like Sister Helen Prejean, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Malala Yousafzai, Mahatma Gandhi and Fannie Lou Townsend Hamer. Through their stories, we explore the principles of nonviolent resistance, human rights and the meaning of moral courage. I introduce the young people in my class to a new perspective on activism by emphasizing the spiritual and ethical dimensions of working for justice. We look at ways to connect personal values and community well-being to meaningful social change.
I have watched how exposure to these faith leaders, practices and philosophies changes the minds and hearts of the students I teach, just as it did mine all those years ago in Raboteau’s class. I have witnessed their convictions deepen, their empathy expand and their sense of moral responsibility come alive. They begin to see the world not just as it is, but as it could be, and they feel both the weight and the possibility of acting with courage and compassion.
