Encouraging Holy Disorder

The Tears of Things

Communities, whether religious, social, or institutional, cannot thrive without courageous and compassionate voices that hold up a mirror to their blind spots. As groups form identities, establish traditions, and build systems of belonging, they inevitably develop patterns of thinking that obscure important truths (1 Corinthians 13:12). It is not enough for a community to rely solely on its leaders or traditions to maintain its integrity. There must be those who make the rest of us lovingly aware of what we cannot see. [1] These voices are not driven by resentment or ego but by a deep commitment to the well-being of the whole (Ephesians 4:15-16). They call the community to face what it has overlooked or ignored, ensuring that its purpose remains rooted in truth and love (Micah 6:8). Without such voices, even the most well-meaning communities risk drifting into complacency, losing sight of the very values they claim to uphold (Revelation 3:15-17).

Yet these essential voices are often met with resistance (Jeremiah 20:7-9). Reformers, prophets, and truth-tellers are frequently dismissed or pushed to the margins, not because they are wrong, but because their message is uncomfortable (Luke 4:24). This pattern has repeated itself throughout history, weakening the very institutions that sought to silence their critics. It is counterproductive to our own gospel message to keep excommunicating and dismissing our would-be reformers. [1] When communities reject those who challenge them, they cut themselves off from the wisdom that could guide them toward renewal (Proverbs 27:6). Instead of resisting discomfort, we must learn to recognize those courageous individuals whose insights reveal a path toward greater wholeness (Acts 5:38-39).

The difficulty, of course, is that reform cannot simply rely on isolated voices crying out from the margins (Isaiah 40:3). Without a clear structure for meaningful critique, communities risk a pattern of chaotic overreaction (Proverbs 15:22). Without a positive internal program for ongoing reform, we will just keep calling forth rebels, iconoclasts, and overreacting heretics to guide reforms. [1] When institutions suppress thoughtful dissent, those with valid concerns may find themselves pushed into more extreme positions (John 9:34). In their frustration, they may resort to anger or defiance, and their message becomes easier to dismiss (James 1:19-20). Rather than allowing reform to emerge only in crisis, communities must embrace an ongoing practice of reflection and self-examination—one that invites challenge before the need for rebellion arises (2 Corinthians 13:5).

For this to happen, communities must intentionally cultivate and empower individuals who are equipped to challenge from within (Ezekiel 3:17). Reform should not be left to outsiders alone (Galatians 6:1). Someone must be trained and blessed for the prophetic role of official devil’s advocate from inside the community. [1] When individuals are intentionally formed to hold this role, their critique is less likely to be mistaken for hostility or rebellion (Proverbs 9:8). Instead, they become trusted voices whose presence signals that the community values honesty, accountability, and self-awareness (1 Thessalonians 5:21). These individuals must be supported, not silenced, so they can ask difficult questions without fear of being cast aside (Matthew 18:15-17).

Of course, prophetic voices will always bring a certain kind of disruption (Matthew 10:34). Yet this disorder, when rooted in love, can become a creative force (1 Corinthians 14:33). Then holy disorder can bear fruit and become a new source of an order founded on God’s love for everyone. No exceptions. [1] Disruption for its own sake can be destructive, but disruption that emerges from compassion opens new possibilities for growth (Romans 12:2). It shakes institutions free from the rigidities that limit their ability to embrace truth (Mark 2:22). Holy disorder invites communities to loosen their grip on control and instead trust that love will guide them into new and more authentic ways of being (1 John 4:18).

History offers countless examples of what happens when institutions fail to heed this wisdom (Ecclesiastes 1:9). Figures like Origen, Martin Luther, and Leonardo Boff each sought to call their respective communities back to greater integrity, yet they were often dismissed and condemned (Luke 11:47-48). In these moments, institutions lost an opportunity for meaningful growth and instead drove reform into more adversarial territory (Acts 7:51-52). The tragedy is that these individuals were not enemies of their traditions; they were voices of loyalty and love, pleading for renewal (2 Chronicles 24:19). Communities that consistently silence such voices only deepen their own fractures and create unnecessary division (1 Corinthians 3:3-4).

Ultimately, all meaningful reform must be grounded in love (John 13:34-35). Without love, critique hardens into bitterness, and disagreement escalates into hostility (1 Corinthians 13:1-3). Love is what allows difficult conversations to unfold with patience and humility (Colossians 3:12-14). Love refuses to demonize the critic or shame the community (Romans 15:7). Instead, love insists that all voices have a place, all insights are heard, and all people are included in the journey toward renewal (Ephesians 2:14-16). Reform grounded in love is not about winning arguments or dismantling traditions; it is about opening hearts, expanding awareness, and trusting that the Spirit of Life is always drawing us toward deeper truth (John 16:13).

[1] Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things