The trial of Archbishop Steve Wood has come to a close, and I’m grateful for the many calls across the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA) to pray for justice. That is exactly what we should be doing. After all, serious allegations were made, and the Church investigated those allegations and determined they warranted a trial. That trial was conducted through the province’s canonical processes. We should pray for everyone involved, especially for those charged with hearing the evidence and reaching a decision. We should pray that the truth is made clear and that justice is done.

But as I read some of the statements and calls for justice surrounding this case, especially on social media, I found myself wondering what we actually mean when we use that word. Sometimes there seems to be an unspoken assumption that “justice” necessarily means that Archbishop Wood will be found guilty of some or all of the charges against him and appropriately disciplined. Certainly, if he’s found guilty, appropriate discipline would be an act of justice. The Church must be willing to hold its leaders accountable. No bishop or archbishop is above the standards to which the Church calls all Christians, and particularly its clergy.

But what if he’s found not guilty? Would we also be willing to call that justice?

I hope Archbishop Wood is exonerated. I would hope every Christian could understand that desire. These are serious allegations against a leader of our Church. Why would we want them to be true? We should hope that they’re not. At the same time, hoping for his innocence doesn’t mean deciding beforehand that he’s innocent. If the court hears the evidence and finds him guilty, then I’ll accept that decision. I’ll be saddened and disappointed, of course. The Church will undoubtedly have another difficult season to walk through, but appropriate discipline should follow, and we should thank God that our Church has a process by which allegations against even its senior leaders can be heard and adjudicated. Then, difficult as it may be, we must continue the mission God gave us: reaching North America with the transforming love of Jesus Christ.

But the same principle must apply if the verdict goes the other way. If the court hears the evidence and finds Archbishop Wood not guilty, those who expected or even strongly believed that he would be found guilty must also be willing to consider that justice has been done. Disappointment with a verdict is not, by itself, evidence that the process was unjust. And this is where I believe Christians need to examine our hearts carefully.

Our surrounding culture increasingly encourages us to interpret conflicts primarily through categories of power: Who has it? Who doesn’t? Who’s the oppressor? Who’s the victim? Once those categories are assigned, the conclusion can become almost predetermined. The person perceived to possess greater institutional power is presumed suspect, while the person perceived to possess less power is presumed correct. Of course, Christians should care about abuses of power. Scripture repeatedly commands God’s people to defend the vulnerable, expose injustice, and hold leaders to a particularly serious standard, but a biblical understanding of justice requires something more than identifying who appears powerful and who appears weak. It requires truth.

“You shall not pervert justice,” Moses tells Israel. “You shall not show partiality” (Deuteronomy 16:19). That prohibition works in both directions.

We mustn’t show partiality toward an archbishop because of his office, reputation, relationships, or influence, but neither should we assume guilt because he possesses that office, reputation, relationships, or influence. Christian justice can’t begin with the verdict already decided and then evaluating the process according to whether it produces the result we expected. That isn’t justice. Justice seeks the truth and submits itself to the truth when it’s found.

So perhaps our prayer during this trial needs to go a little deeper. Yes, let’s pray for justice, for those who brought these allegations forward, for those who’ve been affected by this painful process, and for Archbishop Wood and his family. Pray that the trial court members have wisdom, courage, and discernment, and that what’s true will be brought into the light. But we should also pray for ourselves. Have we already decided what justice must look like? Is our judgment being shaped more by the political and cultural categories of the world around us than by Scripture? And if the decision isn’t the one we expected or wanted, will we have the humility to accept it and leave the rest to God?

If Archbishop Wood is found guilty, then let appropriate discipline follow. Those of us who hoped for his innocence must be willing to accept that judgment. If he’s found not guilty, then those who expected his guilt must likewise be willing to accept that judgment rather than immediately assuming an acquittal itself proves corruption or abuse of power. There may, of course, be legitimate questions about any ecclesiastical process, and Christians should never be afraid to ask them. Accountability and transparency matter. But we should be very careful about defining a process as “just” only when it produces our preferred outcome.

The ACNA has been through difficult seasons before. Whatever the outcome of this trial, there will undoubtedly be hurt, disagreement, and strong emotions afterward. We will need patience and grace with one another, but eventually, we must move forward together. Our calling hasn’t changed. Jesus Christ is still Lord. The Gospel still needs to be proclaimed. People still need to be brought to Christ, formed as disciples, and renewed by the power of the Holy Spirit. So let’s pray for justice, and let’s have the humility to mean it, whatever the verdict may be.