Wise villagers of Fulcrum have been so generous in suggesting readings in the past that I turn to them with another request-- where should one turn for an Anglican theology, theory, and practise of church planting that works? Readings etc are very welcome, as always, but I am not less interested in good people, either exemplars or thinkers-- achieving sustainable growth with spiritual depth on the ground, or else thinking about models for difficult places. They could be in the UK or elsewhere. They could be reading this post.

My question emerges from prayer, not yet from a plan, but the concern is clear-- much of New England is mission territory today, especially in rural parts of the region affected by unemployment and poverty. Fresh starts are needed because in many areas (e.g. Maine) there aren't churches to expand. Moreover, some of these areas are probably easier than others. I am fortunate to be at the centre of a very creative place working on myriad global problems, but I see less of that informed, pragmatic idealism on this problem than there should be. Somehow, that must change.

Prayer is always helpful.

The news that the bishops plan a serious negotiation was not unexpected, but the best news in it is that the several positions on this matter will all be represented. And whilst it is unfair to raise expectations on Justin Welby, it is likely that he will be able to lead the participants away from the usual mistakes that beginners make in negotiations. Let us pray for this.  #   Warmakers are rarely talented peacemakers because the mindsets differ profoundly. The most serious temptation is for those who have perfected the hardline demand as a tool for rallying support to believe that this will also work in a negotiation. This is rarely true, and it is unlikely in this case, but leaders of campaigns can fail to see this reality through an inability to master the transition from rallying to bargaining. What generally works when old adversaries meet is firmness about core principles and flexibility about details in the search for an agreement that works for everyone. But effectiveness at this demands traits that are actually a liability in the speaking for the crowd that gets one a leadership position-- a resilient ego that lets small offences pass, a capacity to enter deeply into the hearts of opponents, the confidence to lead supporters rather just speak for them, the curiosity to search for common ground with an open mind, etc.   #   Leaders who are fit for all phases of the life of a campaign are rare, but campaigns are seldom organised for graceful succession. To those who actually are leaders, it is very hard to accept that they are no longer the right voices for an undertaking to which they have given their all. Very often, their followers face this reality first, and are then faced with a nasty problem of succession or division, greatly complicated by the natural loyalties of partisans. It is important that the discussions on the next Measure not be held hostage to leadership "drama." There just isn't time for it.    #    Thus far, the public statements from leaders of Reform and the Catholic Group have been helpful, but I have not yet seen anything from leaders of WATCH or GRAS that shows the same realism and maturity. Naturally, I greatly hope that those on all sides are encouraging their negotiators to do the right thing.   #   Years on the losing side may well have taught traditionalists much more than years on the winning but impatient side have taught those who expected to dictate the terms of the final Measure without making difficult choices. So whatever the personal struggles of leaders, "followers"-- this may mean you, dear reader--  must themselves have forgiving and inquiring hearts that know their core convictions, and they must plainly assure negotiators of their principled but flexible support through the fresh thinking of a creative venture. Let us pray that those with a bit of influence use it quickly.

There is no way to address a grief like Rachael’s, and she stubbornly refuses everyone who tries. She refuses, in other words, to have the unspeakable reality of innocent suffering  diminished in any way by attempts to assuage or explain it. Rachael is a witness to the things in human life that are so awful that they cannot be addressed, explained or repaired. They can only be wept over, lamented, mourned.

Rachael, in her single keening voice gives voice to all the keening mothers of Bethlehem’s babies, and to the un-voiceable anguish of every parent, family, clan and nation from whom children have ever been torn away and destroyed by a police state, by Jim Crow or apatheid, by political greed and indifference, by the glorification of war, by random violence, or by crushing poverty. Rachael will not be hushed about these things. She will not be pacified.

But we are surrounded by hushing, pacifying voices — knowing voices that explain and justify the unfortunate necessity of innocent suffering, as if it happens all by itself without human complicity: Guns don’t kill people…. Cool voices that cover up or prettify what violence actually does. False voices that paint a sanctified picture of the meaning of suffering. Pragmatic voices of tyrants. Pandering voices of politicians.  Patriotic voices of presidents and generals. Blaming voices of the self-made. Aloof, pious voices (God help us!) too often of the church.

At the start of a new year, especially one that will almost certainly see at least one new war unleashed on this gasping planet, the stubborn wail of Rachael weeping for her children urges us to resist and to refuse those false voices of explanation, rationalization, justification, and obfuscation of all the things that are just not right and which must not be condoned.

Rachael’s grief, never to be comforted, urges us also to rip apart with our own lamentation (and our own repentance) the curtain behind which hides the greatest lie –that it just can’t be helped, that we have no choice but to stand by and accept the suffering of the innocent, the enslavement and destruction of the future. For the stuff of her life is the stuff of ours: the murder of innocents, whether it be lives destroyed in office buildings in New York, hospitals with inadequate supplies in Iraq, famine in Ethiopia, orphanages in Rwanda, school buses in Tel Aviv, a shot-up elementary school in your small town, or razed homes in the little town of modern Bethlehem.

When Rachael makes her brief appearance on the Christmas stage; when this wailing mother of a dead child shows up beside a sleeping child watched over by a virgin tender and mild, we are also reminded, thankfully, that what human words cannot speak of adequately or truthfully, God’s Word, the word we experience in Jesus, can.

The babe who escaped this time, the child whom one Herod could not find, but who will be found by another Herod in thirty-three years’ time and will not escape him then — this child is God’s final Word to our world. It is a Word of comfort Rachael might finally accept, for it is a Word of justice. A Word from a Voice clear and true, a ‘yes’ profound enough and persevering enough (through trial, cross and grave) to address whatever horrific stuff our living and dying, our ignorance, sin and fear can present.

Now and forever it is spoken powerfully against the powers-that-be, defeating death itself — even ours, if we follow its resonance and welcome its light.

-- The Rev. J. Mary Luti, "A Voice in Ramah," Sermon for the Feast of the Holy Innocents, more here.