Anglican Perspectives

Repairing the Breach—a “post-midterm” reflection 

The 2018 Mid-term elections are almost over. Even as I write, final counts are being revised and recounted in elections all over the country. In my own state, the results in the Governor’s race have yet to be certified. I have brothers and sisters in Christ who voted on both sides of this race, and who feel as passionately about their candidate as I do about mine. Yet we are both one in Christ. We pray together, we love each other in Christ, and we are gracious with each other even in our disagreements.

Not so in our culture around us. We have seen the politics of scorched earth practiced by leaders at every level of our governments, federal and state—in the Kavanaugh hearings for SCOTUS, in tweets and accusations on all sides, in the rhetoric of the elections and, sadly, even in acts of violence against those with whom they disagree.

It can seem and feel at times as if the very foundations of our democracy are being shaken to the core. I am certain there have been other periods of time in our country when divisions have run so deep.  But as one commentator observed, we seem to be losing the checks and balances in our constitutional government. At the Federal level, legislation seems to come more by Executive order of the President than from a gridlocked Congress. Executive orders in turn are challenged by litigation and resolved increasingly by the Judicial branch (which certainly explains why appointments to the Federal Judiciary at all levels, and especially to the Supreme Court, have become so politicized).

Centuries ago—around 780 B.C.—the people of Israel were also suffering a great national turmoil. Like our culture today, they also rejected calls to repent and return to the LORD. They ignored and rejected the righteousness and justice of God. They did as they pleased, what was right in their own eyes-and what they did was wicked. Without a moral compass rooted in God himself, they ultimately suffered great losses at the hands of cruel enemies.

But there was hope: hope that tragedy would give way to repentance, a seeking for God and spiritual revival across the land.  In this hope the prophet Isaiah spoke these words:

“Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’ If you take away the yoke from your midst, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted,
then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday.  And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.  And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach,  the restorer of streets to dwell in.” 
(Isa. 58:9-12 ESV)

How might we, Christ’s own Church, become “repairers of the breach”?  By following these words of the prophet Isaiah.

Repairers of the breach hold out a vision for national life that is rooted in the righteousness and justice of God himself.  Isaiah paints a picture of what people flourishing under the gracious reign of God will look like—peaceable, merciful, compassionate neighbors pouring themselves out for others, lights shining in the darkness, sources of never ending “living waters” for others to draw from, “restorers of streets to dwell in.”  What are we doing in our discipleship classes, our Bible studies, our preaching and teaching to prepare ourselves to articulate and proclaim a Biblical anthropology—such a vision of humanity and its possibilities in and under Christ that our friends and neighbors will see it and rejoice? Are we prepared to put practical feet on such a vision so that our churches would be known as people who make the streets of our communities safe enough to dwell in?

And are we close enough to our friends and neighbors to share such a vision in ways that they will hear and receive gladly? Where are those followers of Jesus who are willing to proclaim such a vision from whatever positions of civic authority and trust that allow them such a voice?  Are we prepared to be mocked for such a vision and to remain peaceable and steadfast just as Jesus would if he were in our shoes? Are we prepared to engage our culture with such a vision, and not withdraw?

Repairers of the breach will be a people who model “civility” and grace:  who refuse to place yokes on others, and who take away “the pointing of the finger and speaking wickedness of others.” Judgement begins with the household of God. How are we doing with our Facebook, Twitter and Instagram posts these days? How do we speak truth without demonizing those whose words and deeds we deplore? It’s challenging, isn’t it? How do we uphold the clarity and authority of God’s word in a gracious but compelling way? If judgement begins with the household of God, then we must model this civility and grace among ourselves at all times, even as we engage our culture.

Repairers of the breach draw upon a source beyond themselves to flourish. That’s why God calls them “a watered garden,” “springs of water that never fail,” and a people whose desires are satisfied even in scorched places—including our present national political life. Such a supply, such fruitfulness and such a source for others is not something we can generate in the flesh. This is the language of the Spirit of God. Flesh gives birth to flesh. Our culture is exhibit A.  But Spirit gives birth to spirit. So, as a Church, when are we going to get serious about humbly and boldly calling upon the person and power of the Holy Spirit to be such a people (as Archbishop Ben Kwashi so emphatically challenges us in my interview with him)?

Repairers of the breach will be lights that shine in the darkness: “whose light rises in the darkness and whose gloom is as the noonday.” Jesus says that we are to be like “a city on a hill” (Matthew 5:14) whose light shines for all to see. Where are our Anglican churches shining in the darkness—both here in North America and across the Communion?  What can we learn from them that we can apply in our own church, in our own communities at this time of national and cultural turmoil?

The Rev. Canon Kendall Harmon addressed a gathering of the American Anglican Council here in Atlanta several weeks ago.  He made the compelling connection that because the church has failed to live up to our calling to be such lights in the darkness, so has the darkness grown in our culture.

If we want to see a Reformation rather than a slide into a new Dark Ages, we need to revisit God’s call and vision for us in Isaiah 58 to become repairers of the breach. 

What would that look like in your home group, Bible study or pastorate?  Your church? Your diocese?

The Rev. Canon Phil Ashey is President and CEO of the American Anglican Council.

Share this post
Search