Reading responsibly

 

TL:DR We have a responsibility for how we read the Bible, because it has a real impact on real lives. Yet, this is not a responsibility we can avoid, for in reading the Bible we are equipped for our own lives together.

It has been a difficult week for the Church of England, and, more broadly, a shaming week for Christians in our nation. A report published sets out a great evil, perpetuated not by the Church of England but in what might reasonably be considered Church-adjacent institutions within the larger Establishment. At some point, this abuse became known by individuals, in those institutions and in the Church as an institution, who sought (arrogantly) to manage it inappropriately and (also arrogance) prevent it from being known publicly, for that would have a terrible reputational impact on them too. At some point, others within the institution of the Church came to know, and sought to address the matter rightly, but have been found not to have done enough, or soon enough. And, for that shortcoming, the Archbishop of Canterbury has taken personal and institutional responsibility.

At the heart of this tragic affair are victims and their families, abused and denied justice. Also those who sought justice, but who found it too hard, or somehow failed to do all that they could and should have done. And then there are also those who actively sought to cover up evil, whose actions perpetuated abuse and frustrated justice. Sometimes it is hard to draw a distinction between the latter two categories. Sometimes, it is hard to distinguish between all three.

Today, I presided at Holy Communion. It was hard to know what to say, in a week like this week. The epistle was an extract from a letter written by Paul to Philemon in the middle of the first century CE. Paul was a church planter. Philemon was the patron of a house church in Colossae, a Greco-Roman household made up of free and slave families, a household who had come to faith in Jesus through the ministry of Paul.

Philemon had a slave named Onesimus. For context, 90 percent of the population of the Roman empire were slaves. Onesimus had run away, finding his way to Ephesus, and there discovering Paul living under house arrest. The runaway slave chooses to serve Paul, to seek to meet his needs, as best as he is able. In so doing, he becomes like a son to Paul. But Paul sends him back to Philemon, asking that Philemon give Onesimus his freedom and allow him to return to Paul to continue supporting him the trials he faces.

These first-century correspondences are given to us to help us order our own lives, in our own very different time. And as we read this account, I was struck by the duty on us to handle these texts responsibly, because how we handle these texts has a real impact on actual lives. How do we read a text like this, in a week like this?

It is possible to read this text as an example and endorsement of perpetuating abuse. Paul sends Onesimus back to Philemon, urges, perhaps it feels like forces, him to go. Runaway slaves, caught, could face the death penalty. Onesimus must have been afraid. Paul seems to believe he can handle the situation himself, put in a good word, appeal to Philemon's better nature, or, if not, the debt Philemon owes Paul, the power Paul holds over him as his spiritual father.

There are many who have misused scripture in this way, as a tool to force victims of domestic abuse to remain in the place of harm, under the control of a bully.

This would be an appalling way to read Philemon, albeit one that might expose the darker corners of our own heart to the light. Is there a better way, a more responsible reading, one that helps us fill the room with light?

I would suggest that Onesimus represent one who serves the Church, and who has somehow failed or let the Church down. The name Onesimus means Useful, a common name for slaves, essentially a noun for a practical tool rather than a unique and precious individual. But in running away, he becomes useless. Yet in meeting Paul, he is transformed again, into one who is not Useful but one of the family. And Paul invites Philemon to forgive Onesimus his sins, to erase his debt, and to release him into a new role, one in which he is both loved and valued.

What if we were to read this letter as advice on how to treat a servant of the Church who has to some extent failed in their service, as, to some extent, each and every one of us fails on a daily basis? I am not speaking of one who has actively chosen to betray the trust others placed in them, but one whom others may feel betrayed by, perhaps with legitimate reason, simply because they failed to do all that they could or should have done.

Such a servant might be an archbishop, or a vicar, or a young person making tentative steps of faith. They could have a formal role, such as a Churchwarden or Parish Safeguarding Officer, or volunteer at the smallest level.

How might such a person be restored and released, in ways that honour the kindred ties of being the Church, of belonging to one another within the family of God?

The key is love, shared, and thankfulness for that lovely, for one another. Even when we have failed one another or perceive (whether with clarity or confusion) another to have failed us. To note our thankfulness for them, their life, their ministry. For all that has been done well, and all that is yet to come.

That can be easier said than done. Therefore, let us keep reminding one another.