Accountability means responsibility.

All the noise surrounding us at the beginning of a new year can lead us to deny our responsibility. The noise can take the form of complying with this meeting, going to that place, preparing that material or sermon, posting that content, and being there when that should have been an email. The noise that surrounds us breaks our commitment to life.

The new year could mean a “new”: you, mind, page, chapter, book, hairdo, transition, etc. We must be conscious that this time gives us a new opportunity to be held accountable.

Our complicated accountability is to reflect, discern, and act as representatives of the Divine in a noisy space. We are accountable for what we preach, teach, sing, pray, talk, and stop. The liberating act of stepping into the new year as bearers of hope and peace exemplifies this complicated accountability.

In the gospel of Luke (10:13-16), Jesus confronts Chorazin, Bethsaida, Tyre and Sidon. These places experienced miracles, transformation, and, at the same time, judgment.

These places can be our places: great stories, accomplishments, end-of-year reports, and new resolutions. But to what are we accountable?

Verse 16 of this passage says, “Whoever listens to you listens to me; whoever rejects you rejects me; but whoever rejects me rejects who sent me.” This brings a new sense of accountability, a complicated accountability.

It’s not that we are just representatives; we are given a voice. The gospel is a loving and compelling power that provides hope, but that hope is held accountable for bringing glory to God.

In his book “Preaching to Those Walking Away,” N. Graham Standish argues young people leaving the church are not leaving because they don’t have questions. They are leaving because their questions are not being answered.

Standish suggests knowing when we are preaching, to whom, and how. Simple is better. But I assume that the noise is too loud.

What noise? Toxic nationalism, biases, poverty, spiritual ignorance, self-sufficiency, competitiveness and plastic discipleship (shiny Christians, opaque faith). These are distractions and subtractions from our accountability.

In her book “Teaching from the Heart: Theology and Educational Method,” Mary Elizabeth Moore explains that an important aspect of teaching is re-vering the ordinary. She reflects on why educators look for “grand” theories through developing everyday experiences with students.

This provides an intentional way of navigating this new year. Our accountability is not in past miracles, as in those cities Jesus confronted. Our responsibility is to speak, live, and ordinarily affirm the loving kingdom of Jesus.

We are accountable for talking and living the gospel. But when we do, we must integrate our hopes and dreams with love, compassion, mercy, grace, justice, inclusion and equity.

Let’s make “the ordinary” part of our spirituality. We are so caught up with results that we have forgotten the process.

By “the ordinary,” I mean that our accountability must not depend only on Sunday morning, the church meeting, the social media post, or the traditional faith and ministry expectations. Our daily bread must be to search, discern and extend God’s word to others.

Why be accountable? Because people are hurting. Our complicated accountability is not to see the results but to listen.

This is an invitation. This year, speak, talk, dialogue, be a mentor, and let your voice develop.

Be heard. If they listen or if they don’t, “Amen.” You did your part.

“But what if…?” Complicated accountability.

“We should…” Complicated Accountability.

“I think we should rather…” Complicated accountability.