Who Bears God's Image?

 Matthew 22:15-22

Proper 24 / Year A

If Jesus and the religious leaders had been playing a game of chess today’s reading would begin with the religious leaders moving a piece and saying “check.”  They pose their question: “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor?”  The Jewish people despised Rome’s poll tax so if he answers “yes” Jesus risks having turn against him the folks who just the day before hailed his arrival into Jerusalem with palm branches and shouts of “hosanna”.  If he answers “no” Jesus will face the wrath of the Roman government.  The religious authorities believe they have him just where they want him. 

Then Jesus asks them to show him the coin used to pay the tax.  What does it say to you that Jesus did not have a coin in his possession?  He forces the religious authorities to produce one.  It bears the image of the emperor who himself claims to be divine.  Faithful Jews would not carry this coin because doing so is a violation of the first two commandments: have no other gods but God and make no graven images.  What does it tell you that the religious authorities are able to put forward a Roman denarius? 

“Whose head is this and whose title?”  The Greek word translated here as ‘head’ is ikon which some versions of the bible render as ‘image’, others as ‘likeness.’  His challengers respond, “It is the emperor.”  “Render unto the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and unto God the things that are God’s.”  And with this answer Jesus claims “check” and “mate.”

In our zoom call last Tuesday we began our time, as we always do, talking about one of the readings for the upcoming Sunday; usually the gospel.  Bishop Susan said she loves to preach on today’s reading and I asked her why.  She said, “If the coin bears the image of the emperor, who bears the image of God?”  This, I think, is a really good question to explore.

It is a central question addressed in the very first story in the bible.  Genesis 1:26 reads, “And God said, let us make man in our own image, in our own likeness.”  So God creates human beings, male and female, in God’s image.  Therefore, one way to answer this question is every person, regardless of age, gender, ethnicity or religious persuasion bears the image of God and therefore is infused with dignity and worth.  This truth forms the foundation of all human rights and equality.  Any attempt to build barriers, create divisions, or assert dominance over another person or group is a fundamental rejection of the biblical truth all people bear the image of God. 

I don’t intend to comment every Sunday about the conflict between Israel and Hamas, but today’s reading with its focus on how every human being bears the image of God, has much to say about this crisis.  I read an interesting article this week in which the author argued we should not be pushing people either to side with Israel or with Palestine.  The real division in the middle east is between people who want peace and those who don’t.  My hunch is more want peace than don’t, but, sadly, it only takes a small minority to throw that volatile region into chaos.

Who bears the image of God?  We who confess the to the Christian faith hold Jesus Christ is the perfect image of God.  He is God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.  He proclaims to Philip, “Anyone who has known me has seen the Father” (John 14:8-9).

We who hold to this faith commit ourselves through baptism to live intentionally into the image of God, using Jesus’ words and deeds as our measuring stick.  Think about the promises we have made:

Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

To each question we respond, “I will, with God’s help.”  So, not only are we committed to bearing the image of God, we are empowered to do this through the Holy Spirit who dwells within us. 

Render unto the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and unto God the things that are God’s.  Some people take from this we should simply be compliant with our government and do whatever it tells us.  But I think just as the coin bearing the emperor’s image circulates throughout society, we are to circulate God’s image everywhere we go and with whoever we have contact.  Whose image is on you?  In whose likeness are you made?

A Weird Wedding Feast

 

Matthew 22:1-14

Proper 23 / Year A

Today’s parable of the wedding feast proclaims one particular thing which truly is good news: you and I are invited to God’s feast.  In fact, it is open to everyone who will respond to the invitation to attend.  This is good news indeed.  But, as they say, the devil is in the details and the details of this story leave much to be desired. 

It starts off on such a high note – a king plans a wedding feast for his son.  When all is ready, he sends out his servants to summon the invited guests.  Although not identified, we would expect these folks are family and friends of the king along with various dignitaries and worthies.  But this group refuses to attend.  The king resends his representatives to plead with the invitees.  Some guests go about their daily affairs while others mistreat the envoys, going so far to kill them.  It is an act of unexpected violence not merited and seemingly without any particular motivation or aim.  The king retaliates with a response out of proportion to the atrocities committed.  He sends his troops to “destroy” the murders and to burn their city. 

It is impossible to hear this ancient story without connecting it to what is happening now in Israel and Gaza.  The Palestinians have been the victims of human rights violations for decades, but (to be clear) this in no way justifies attacking and slaughtering innocent civilians.  The actions of Hamas, a radical fringe of the Palestinian people, is bringing untold suffering to innocent Christians and Muslims within its own population; many of whom are peaceful and support working with Israel to resolve nonviolently the difficult issues between them.

Israel has responded to these attacks as it must to secure its people and borders as well as eliminate the threat Hamas poses to its safety.  But in so doing it is creating a humanitarian crisis beyond imagining.  I am not a military analyst so I don’t have a blueprint for how to conduct this war.  But I am a human being and what I can say is my heart breaks for both sides.  I pray for a just peace but fear the possibility of ethnic cleansing. 

So, back to the parable.  After destroying the murderers and burning the city, the king sends his servants out to invite whoever they can find.  Out of the ashes and ruins enough people are found to fill the hall.  Are they there because they want to be or are they just attending because they fear what the king might do if they stay away?  Either way, the guests are compliant, going so far as to adhere to ordinary customs around such an occasion.  All, except for one.  The king notices a man not wearing a wedding robe and orders him to be bound hand and a foot and thrown into the outer darkness.  Perhaps it softens the thud of this act to know the king provides wedding robes for people to wear, thus, not wearing one is an act of defiance.

Traditional interpretations of the story hold the king represents God, Jesus represents the son, prophets such as John the Baptist represent the servants, the religious leaders and authorities of the day represent the initial invited guests, and the people who respond to the invitation are the folks who follow Jesus.  The man without a robe is an allusion to people like Judas who are in the Jesus movement, but not of it.  One of the troubling things about this interpretation is how it portrays God.  If the king represents God, then God is both generous and vengeful, reactive with fury, and willing to judge our character if not our attire.  Fortunately, this is not the only parable Jesus tells and he gives us a much broader picture of God the Father in the rest of the gospels.

We had a pretty full agenda for last Monday’s meeting of the Vestry.  After mulling over various issues with the building and property and reading through the financial reports, we had finished everything on our list, but the meeting was not over.  We got to talking about the people and families who have not returned since the pandemic.  Like the invited guests who don’t to come to the feast, we pondered why these folks have not come back.  We don’t have any real answers, but recognize we are not alone.  Pretty much every church, regardless of denomination or theological leaning, has seen its average Sunday attendance drop.

And it isn’t just churches.  Summer camp registrations are also down.  The Chanco Board has hired a consultant to help us to better understand who we are and what we offer in order to better market ourselves.  At our meeting last Tuesday, she shared some basic marketing principles.  The first, which relates to your product, is this: people don’t buy what you do, they buy why you do it.  In today’s parable this would transform the invitation to come the feast into “I want to celebrate my son’s marriage.  Will you join me?”  Perhaps at St. Paul’s our message should not be “Our Sunday service is at 9:30”, but rather “Faith, friendship, and a focus on outreach drive us and all we do.”

Nihilists in the Vineyard

 

Matthew 21:33-46

Proper 22 / Year A

Today we hear the last of Jesus’ “vineyard parables.”  The vineyard was a common Old Testament metaphor used to describe the people of Israel, so it is not surprising Jesus draws on this imagery as much as he does.  If you recall, two weeks ago we heard the parable of the workers called to the vineyard at various hours of the day who all get paid the same amount, regardless of the time they spent laboring.  Last Sunday we heard the parable of the father who directs each of his two sons to work in the family vineyard.  One refuses, but later goes.  The other agrees, but then does nothing.  And today we hear the parable of the tenants’ revolt against the absentee landowner.

Martin Heidegger, the German-born philosopher who died in 1976, has been described as a nearly unreadable author, a racist and a bigot who never fully disavowed his support of Nazism, and one of the most important thinkers of the 21st century.   Now that is some résumé!  He wrote a great deal about nihilism; a Latin word meaning “nothing.”  It is a philosophical belief our modern life lacks a shared meaning and direction by rejecting fundamental aspects of human existence, such as knowledge, morals, and values.  Those who write about nihilism point to society’s desire not to be under any authority beyond the individual, to have nothing and no one able to make a claim on us, and no commitments required of us.  It is precisely what the tenants in Jesus’ parable are after.

One professor sums up our times by pointing out “the things that once evoked commitment – gods, heroes…, the acts of great statesmen, the words of great thinkers – have lost their authority.”  He is saying our society, like the tenants who shed the rightful claim of the landowner, has dispensed with any such notion of objective norms or values or moral good existing beyond the individual’s preferences.  We tenants are the ones who pick and choose the ingredients we want to add into the stew of meaning we cook up for ourselves (if we even want to take the time to think about it).

Heidegger points out life in an ownerless vineyard has some serious consequences.  He held we become isolated in our existence, alienated from one another, and suffocated in a life devoid of meaning.  The same professor put it this way:

“When there are no shared examples of greatness that focus public concerns and elicit social commitment, people become spectators of fads and public lives, just for the excitement.   When there are no religious practices that call forth sacrifice, terror, and awe, people consume everything from drugs to meditation practices to give themselves some kind of peak experience.  The peak experience takes the place of what was once a relation to something outside the self that defined the real and was therefore holy.”

To the degree I understand Heidegger I am intrigued by his thinking regarding how technology fosters nihilism.  In a nutshell, he says we have reduced creation to efficiency and adaptability, with little or no thought to its intended, greater purpose.  He holds we view the environment as being “a gigantic gasoline station, an energy source for modern technology and industry.”  Most of us also see nature as something spiritual, particularly when, for example, we are moved by a beautiful sunset.  But for us, both endeavors – industry and inspiration - share the common understanding that creation exists solely for our benefit and use.  It is our vineyard, not God’s.

Cardinal Celestin Suhard, who served as Archbishop of Paris in the 1940’s, famously said, “to be a witness [is to be] a living mystery.  It means to live in such a way that one’s life would not make sense if God did not exist.”  And while the world wants to live like there is no God, just as the tenants wanted to live as if there was no owner, we are the opposite - people who, in the absence of the vineyard Owner, live in such a way that makes sense only because there is a vineyard Owner.  We live in such a way that our lives are a mystery in a nihilistic world.  We adhere to a meaning and direction from beyond ourselves.  We accept Jesus as our Lord and seek to live out his word and example; forgiving when forgiveness is a challenge, giving generously even when we have very little to offer, extending hospitality to all – especially to those people on the margins of society, picking up our cross and daily dying to self.

In a world that has either dispensed itself of God or perhaps just tamed God to suit its own purposes, our lives should not make sense at all.  But our witness does make sense because there is a God who owns the vineyard and has a rightful claim on each one of us.

Musings on Authority

 

Matthew 21:23-32

Proper 21 / Year A

To better understand today’s gospel reading it is essential to know its context.  In our liturgical calendar it takes place on the Monday in Holy Week.  Just the day before Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey, sending people into a messianic fever.  He enters the Temple and is dismayed by the economic activity and graft surrounding the purchase of sacrificial offerings.  Jesus famously overturns tables, frees animals, and chases away money-changers. 

That was yesterday.  Today, Monday, Jesus returns to the Temple to teach.  One commentator describes Jesus as “occupying” the Temple; an apt description I suspect because the crowds gathered around hold sway over the actions of the religious leaders who fear their reactions. 

Chief priests and elders cautiously confront Jesus.  Over the course of the day, they and other religious leaders will challenge Jesus five times; asking various questions intended to trap him by getting him to say something that will get him in trouble.  This morning’s challenge is the most direct: “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”  They want to know its nature and source.

They are the ones who possess the authority of the institution.  They have been to seminary.  They have been ordained.  They have been installed into various positions within the religious hierarchy.  They have the power to call on the Temple guard and to petition the Roman government to act on their behalf.  Jesus lacks their credentials and resources. 

Throughout his gospel, Matthew demonstrates Jesus’ authority comes from God.  “You are my Son and with you I am well-pleased.”  Jesus manifests his authority with humility, compassion, empathy, wisdom, and integrity.  Essentially, he is living into who he supposed to be and doing what is a called to do and neither is possible if you are not self-authenticating.  You have to discover, then embrace, who you are created to be and what you are called to do.

The first funeral I conducted after being ordained was a graveside service for a person I had never met.  All the family members lived out of the area and so I didn’t know any of them either.  We were all sort of milling around and I remember thinking, “Someone ought to do something.”  Then it occurred to me, “You are the one wearing a collar.  Everyone is waiting on you to get this started.”  Those strangers saw something in me – a person authorized by the church to act as a priest – which I not fully appropriated in myself at that point in time.

I imagine many of you can tell a similar story about the first day of your teaching career or the first day working on a hospital floor or the first time you argued a case or the first time you changed a diaper.  We must grow into the authority we are given.  We must grow in confidence and competence so that the authority we possess is not just something we have been given, but it is also something we believe about ourselves.  This morning we find Jesus fully inhabiting who he is and what he is supposed to do.

Those who come to confront him in today’s reading, as well as the readings in the weeks to come, exhibit the potential pitfalls of authority.  They abuse their power for personal gain and seek to manipulate their followers.  They act dogmatically in order to resist reform and innovation.  They marginalize certain individuals and groups through bias and discrimination.

Always remember, you must be very discerning in who you allow to be a spiritual authority in your life.  You must never blindly follow someone to the exclusion of your own experience and intuition.  Ask if the person is using their authority to exploit others or to help them.  Is he or she genuine and authentic or one person in the public eye and someone totally different out of the limelight? 

An interesting thing is happening conservative churches across our country.  Pastors are reporting parishioners are accusing them of being liberals and pushing a woke agenda.  The interesting thing is this: what they are being criticized for saying is actually teachings Jesus puts forward; love your enemy, turn the other cheek, blessed are the poor, etc.  When pastors try to explain this, more often than not the complainer says something like, “Well, those teachings don’t work anymore.”  It raises an important question for each of us to ponder: Do you allow your own authority to be subservient to Christ’s or do you pick and choose from the bible to validate your own beliefs and agenda?

We believe what St. Paul teaches: one day every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

The Daily Wage

 

Mathew 20:1-16

Proper 20 / Year A

Day laborers are an important part of the work force in biblical times and both the Law and the prophets go to great lengths to protect them.  For example, Deuteronomy 24:14-15 says this:

Do not take advantage of a hired worker who is poor and needy, whether that worker is a fellow Israelite or a foreigner residing in one of your towns.  Pay them their wages each day before sunset, because they are poor and are counting on it.  Otherwise they may cry to the Lord against you, and you will be guilty of sin.

Jesus is more than aware of the value of this sector of the workforce.  In Matthew 9:37-38, he draws metaphorically on it when describing the need for disciples to do the work of the Kingdom: “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, so pray the Lord will send laborers out into the harvest.” 

This morning we hear Jesus tell a parable about a wealthy landowner who hires several waves of workers over the course of a day, agreeing to pay the first group the “usual daily wage” while promising to pay “whatever is right” to subsequent recruits.  At the end of the day the landowner pays the usual daily wage to those who worked the least, leading to speculation from those who worked the longest they will be paid more.  When they aren’t, they are outraged. 

Here are two small details about this parable.  First, it appears only in Matthew’s gospel.  And second, while Jesus explains to his disciples the meaning of many of his stories, this one he does not.  It is up to us to figure out how to interpret it. 

Some hold the first group of workers represent God’s chosen people.  They are the ones who have ‘worked’ the longest at being God’s witnesses in the world.  The later workers represent converts to the faith, gentiles who are now disciples.  The ‘wage’ all receive is salvation but those who have been at it the longest believe they deserve more.  I suppose this is close to the standard interpretation.

Some commentators are critical of this parable because it perpetuates a system of economic injustice, allowing the wealthy to thrive while trapping the disadvantaged in a cycle of poverty.  Why does Jesus have the landowner pay only the daily wage?  Why does the one who invited people to sell all they have, give it to the poor, and follow him, not have the landowner to do something dramatic to lift all the workers out of their destitution?  It is an interpretation which goes against what most see in this story – an overly generous landowner who goes above and beyond to take care of day laborers in his community.

My focus is on the “usual daily wage.”  Typically, it is a Roman coin called a denarius and it affords a person the ability to buy enough food to feed a family for one day.  Today we might call it a living wage.  It is the minimum amount of money a person needs to survive.  Jesus’ landowner, aware of this, continues to hire throughout the day because he knows families will go hungry if he doesn’t put people to work.  Paying “whatever is right” might seem obvious to us.  If one group works twelve hours to earn a denarius, then those who worked only one hour should receive 1/12 of a denarius.  Right?  But Jesus’ landowner knows this pittance will not be enough to feed a family of four.  The one-hour worker needs the usual daily wage just as the twelve-hour workers do. 

When Jesus’ followers ask him to teach them how to pray, he gives us great insight into how he himself approaches living.  What does it say to you his prayer includes “Give us this day our daily bread”?  It says to me Jesus did not always know where his next meal is coming from, but he trusts God does.  It says to me he lives one day at a time and in his experience God provides enough for today’s needs. 

I am grateful I don’t have to live hand to mouth.  When I see a person at the grocery store checking out the cost of an item to see if she can afford it or not, I am made deeply aware of how blessed I am.  Daily bread is not something I have to worry about.  But there is plenty else I need to get through this day.  God knows what it is.  God cares about it.  And God provides.

I know some of you have a lot on your plate (and I am not talking about food).  Health problems, family dynamics, career concerns, disappointments, emotional scars… I could go on and on.  I think this morning’s parable tells us God is not going to make these things simply go away.  But God is going to give us everything we need to carry our load for today.   

Today we remember God’s favor is not about who earns what or who deserves the most.  It is about what you need today in order to live faithfully and fruitfully.  I count on it and you can too!

 

To Bind or to Unbind?

 

Matthew 18:21-35

Proper 19 / Year A

There was an attention-grabbing headline last Monday coinciding with the 22^nd anniversary of the terrorist attack on our country: “Planners of 9/11 Offered Pardons.”  As with most headlines, this one was a tad misleading.  Last year, it seems, military prosecutors offered the prisoners not to seek the death penalty if they would sign confessions to their roles in the high-jackings.  The prisoners, who are kept at Guantánamo Bay, attempted to negotiate a sentence which would end their solitary confinement, allow them to eat and pray with together, and give them access to mental and physical healthcare. 

As you might imagine, when word of the negotiations became public, reaction was swift and predictable.  Terry Strada, who was widowed on 9/11, spoke for many when she said, “They deserve no mercy…  They have no remorse.   They would do it again… and [they believe] we deserve what we got when they come over and they terrorized us the way they did…  So why do they deserve any type of mercy now?”  Last Monday, the Biden Administration announced it has ordered the Department of Defense to rescind the offer. 

This morning, Peter approaches Jesus with a question: “How many times should I forgive my brother who sins against me?  Seven times?”  The number seems to be based on account found in the fourth chapter of the book of Genesis when God banishes Cain for murdering his brother.  After a series of curses, God promises the family of anyone who does him harm will suffer for seven generations.  A few verses later, Cain’s great-great grandson, Lamech, fesses up to killing a man who injured him.  He brags God will avenge him for seventy-seven generations.  Perhaps this little detail informs Jesus’ response to Peter; “Seventy times seven.”  Jesus then tells a parable which is a cautionary tale about what happens if we, who have been forgiven by God, do not forgive someone who offends us.

It is a teaching which makes us uncomfortable because we have all experienced hurts and wrongs that are difficult to forgive.  It is tempting to do one of two things with all of this.  Either try to parse seventy times seven and the parable in some way which gives us an outlet.  Or, simply admonish each other to forgive, as if it is like turning on a light switch.  One approach is not faithful, the other is not realistic. 

Kevin used to knock on my front door at all hours of the day and night, always asking for money.  Last summer he asked to borrow my lawn mower because someone was going to pay him to cut their grass.  He had done this two or three times before, but this time he never returned it.  I encountered him several times over the next few weeks and each time he had some kind of story, but the bottom line is I had to lay out over $400 for a new mower.  Oh, and Kevin hasn’t knocked on my door since then. 

Robert also comes by asking for money.  Earlier this summer I told him I would pay him $20 if he would return later in the afternoon and weed for an hour.  He agreed, told me he was hungry, and asked if I would pay him in advance.  I did and he did not come back to fulfill his part of the deal.  He too has avoided knocking on my door since then.  I am not inclined to forgive either, although I easily could if either reappears in my life.   In these two slights I could practice Jesus’ teaching about forgiveness because, in reality, the offenses are aggravating, but not grievous.     

None of us would say the same is true for what Terry Strada has been through.  If she advocated to show mercy to the Guantánamo prisoners, we would all marvel at her ability to forgive.  That she doesn’t, we understand.  Some people describe forgiveness as being similar to a pilgrimage whose progress comes in fits and spurts.  That Jesus, hanging on the Cross, prays for God to forgive those who crucified him shows us the goal of our pilgrimage. 

According to legend, there was a ritual practiced in Africa some time ago called “The Drowning Man Trial”; based on the principle the only way to get over grief is to save a life.  When a person is murdered, the surviving family members enter into a year-long period of grieving while the killer is held in prison.  Then comes the time for trail.  The killer is tied up and thrown into a river as the family of the victim looks on.  They have a choice to make and it is theirs alone.  Either they can let the killer drown and have their justice, but it means they will spend the rest of their lives in mourning.  Or, they can forgo justice, rescue the killer, affirm our common humanity, and begin the process of recovery. 

The Latin word for mercy is eleison, which literally means “to unbind.”  When we refuse to forgive, we bind the one who has wronged us and in a very real sense we remain bound by what we have suffered.  Seeking vengeance and punishment has a way of trapping us in grief and bitterness while the pilgrimage of forgiveness has a way of initiating healing, both for us and for the one who has wronged us.  This, I think, is what Jesus wants to keep in front of us through today’s difficult teaching. 

Church Conflict

 

Matthew 18:15-20

Proper 18 / Year A

When the preacher took to the pulpit everyone in the congregation noticed the huge Band-Aid on his chin.  As the sermon dragged on and on and on, minds began to stray and most wondered how the preacher had injured himself.  After the service he was bombarded by everyone with the same question: What did you do to your chin?  He patiently answered each person.  “While I was shaving I was thinking intently about my sermon and, not paying attention to what I was doing, I accidently cut myself.”  Without missing a beat, one of the church’s longtime members responded, “Next time, focus on shaving and cut the sermon!”

I don’t know how much you keep up with news about the Episcopal Church.  For those who do, you know this has been an interesting couple of weeks.  On August 30, Julia Ayala Harris, the President of the House of Deputies (elected lay and clergy leaders from every diocese in our church), announced in a letter to the members of this body that a retired bishop had made “unwanted and non-consensual physical contact” with her followed by “inappropriate verbal comments” immediately after her election to her office. 

Ayala Harris found the actions so egregious she filed a formal complaint under the process outlined by our national disciplinary canons.  She said nothing publicly about this while the investigation was on-going, which went on for over a year.  Even though the event was witnessed by three other people who corroborated her account, a church attorney determined the incident merited only a “pastoral response”, rather than a more severe form of punishment.  This is when the president chose to go public with her experience.  She did not name the bishop responsible for these offenses, but subsequent reports revealed him to be her former bishop from the Diocese of Oklahoma. 

This incident follows on the heels of two other accusations against bishops in our church.  One bishop has been accused by his adult children of being physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive toward them and his ex-wife.  Another bishop has been accused of “a pattern and practice” of discrimination against LGBTQ clergy and their supporters. 

On August 31, a group of over fifty bishops signed a letter indicating they are aware of all three allegations and are deeply concerned about the perception bishops accused of misconduct get a “free pass.”  Bishop Susan did not sign this letter because she serves on the Disciplinary Panel which oversees this process and thus is not able to comment publicly on matters which might fall to them.  As I understand it, she would not be involved in any of these cases until they reached the point of a church trial. 

From this morning’s gospel reading we learn there has always been conflict in the church – always.  Jesus experienced it within his own small band of followers.  Paul dealt with it in several of the churches he founded, especially the church in Corinth.  The process Jesus lays out for dealing with conflict is rooted in the belief our relationships in Christ matter.  Every effort must be made to nurture and protect them, and, when damaged, to heal and restore them.

It also speaks to the need to safeguard the health and well-being of the community as a whole.  If one person’s actions or behavior is disruptive or detrimental to the common life of a congregation, it cannot be ignored or swept under a rug.  Fortunately, most congregations have a healthy culture which allows for things to get worked out in a fairly natural way.  But, there are times when a more direct, aggressive approach is necessary.  Sometimes this will resolve the issue.  Sometimes it won’t.  The stronger the relationship – what Jesus refers to as “binding” – the more likely a positive outcome will be.

The person most likely to be most disruptive in a faith community is the ordained leader.  We clergy can cause all manner of mischief!  A few years ago, the Episcopal Church changed its canons around clergy discipline – what is referred to a Title IV.  The old canons were based on the model of a military court marshal and allowed little room for flexibility or discernment.  The current model is more pastoral in nature, provides care for the accuser and the accused, and seeks healing and restoration whenever possible.  Is it perfect?  No.  But it is better than what we had before and seems more adaptable to necessary change.  If you would like to know more about this, talk with John Rector.  He has been elected by our Diocesan Council to serve on our Disciplinary Board.  As such, he has undergone extensive training in the Tile IV process. 

In her letter to the deputies, Julia Ayala Harris wrote, “My motivation for sharing this story stems from a deep love for our church.  It is from this place of profound care and concern that I raise important questions about safety and security.”  I applaud her courage and pray her actions will lead to deeper awareness and reform.