The Golden Thread of Justice in Ecclesiastical Trials
Innocence, Truth, and the Ecclesiastical Trial of Bishop Stewart Ruch III
My Perspective on the Trial
I have been asked by many for my opinion on the trial of Bishop Stewart Ruch, recently concluded. Having served as a provincial prosecutor in the Ecclesiastical court, which began with my sitting on the Provincial Investigation Team, and leading a trial team through initial legal matters (including questioning) and finally completing a trial leading to the conviction and laicizing of a guilty bishop, I am intimately familiar with the ecclesiastical trial process.
I was initially appointed to prosecute this matter, but due to personal considerations required to withdraw before any judicial proceedings began. I was, however, at various points consulted by those involved in the ongoing matter. Despite this, I have not seen or assessed all of the relevant evidence and materials. I therefore base my conclusions on what was known to the public, and what was contained in the Presentments and the Verdict just rendered (Final Order).
Summary and Theses
This article argues that the unanimous acquittal of Bishop Stewart Ruch III demonstrates the strength and fairness of the ACNA’s Title IV disciplinary process.
Key points to note include:
(1) the system upholds the ancient “golden thread” of justice—the presumption of innocence—requiring clear and convincing evidence of personal fault before any sanction;
(2) the Court rigorously distinguished proven individual misconduct from systemic or institutional shortcomings, refusing to convict on hindsight, rumor, or public pressure;
3) the process aligns with both historic Anglican disciplinary tradition and broader common-law principles shared by American and Canadian jurisprudence; and
(4) the contrast with the successful prosecution and deposition of another bishop shows that the same court and standards can convict when evidence is sufficient.
The reasonable conclusion is clear: when all the facts were examined under a high evidentiary standard, no canonical offense was proven against Bishop Ruch. For ordinary laypeople who love the Church and long for justice, this outcome should inspire confidence rather than cynicism.
Our disciplinary system—though carried out by fallible people—is thorough, evidence-based, and committed to truth. It protects the innocent from unsubstantiated accusations while holding the guilty accountable when the evidence demands it. This is cause for gratitude and trust in the processes God has given us to guard the Church’s integrity.
The Golden Thread of Presumption of Innocence
In the common law tradition, the presumption of innocence stands as a foundational principle, famously described by Viscount Sankey in the 1935 House of Lords case Woolmington v DPP as the “golden thread“ running throughout English criminal law: “Throughout the web of the English Criminal Law one golden thread is always to be seen, that it is the duty of the prosecution to prove the prisoner’s guilt.” This principle ensures that no one is deemed guilty until the accuser has met a high burden of proof, protecting the innocent even at the risk of some guilty escaping punishment.
This legal safeguard finds deep resonance in Scripture. Proverbs 18:17 warns: “The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him.”
An initial accusation often carries persuasive force, swaying judgment prematurely; only through rigorous examination—cross-examination, evidence, and counter-testimony—does truth emerge. This biblical wisdom underscores the necessity of due process: hearing both sides before rendering a verdict.
The Trial in Context
The recent ecclesiastical trial of the Rt. Rev. Stewart Ruch III, Bishop of the Diocese of the Upper Midwest in the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA), exemplifies these principles in action. Conducted under the pre-revised Title IV of the ACNA Canons (the disciplinary process in place at the initiation of proceedings, prior to ongoing reforms), the trial addressed serious allegations arising from the handling of abuse reports in the diocese.
There are key lessons to be learned from the findings of this court, including a list of mistakes, errors, and unjust actions in the investigatory phase in this particular matter. And the court points them out in no uncertain terms (see my thoughts on the issue of Advocacy Pressure, Law, and Policy in Beyond the Ruch Verdict: Lessons Part 1).
The courts findings are reinforced by the Principles of Canon Law Common to the Churches of the Anglican Communion (2008), particularly Principle 24.10: “In disciplinary and other cases in church courts or tribunals, the procedure is at all times to be fair and just, and is to protect rights of the parties to notice of proceedings, to adequate time for preparation of defence, to a presumption of innocence, to be heard within a reasonable time, to question evidence, to representation and to appeal in appropriate cases on a matter of fact or law.”
This shared Anglican principle underscores that presumption of innocence is not optional but foundational to our common canonical heritage.
A Brief Overview of the ACNA Title IV Investigative and Disciplinary Process
Under the original Title IV (ratified 2009, amended 2019), allegations of clerical misconduct trigger a structured process designed for fairness and reconciliation. Reports are received provincially or diocesanly, leading to investigation by a Provincial Investigative Team if warranted. If evidence suggests canonical violations, a formal Presentment (charge sheet) may be issued—signed by at least three bishops or ten clergy/laity in good standing.
A Board of Inquiry then reviews for probable cause. If advanced, the case proceeds to the Court for the Trial of a Bishop, an elected body applying a clear and convincing evidence standard (higher than civil preponderance but below criminal beyond reasonable doubt). The accused enjoys rights akin to due process: counsel, confrontation of evidence, and presumption of innocence. The process emphasizes pastoral restoration where possible, while holding clergy to high standards.
In Bishop Ruch’s case, allegations stemmed from the diocese’s response to abuse claims against a former lay minister, Mark Rivera. Independent investigations (including by Telios Law) and a Husch Blackwell report informed two Presentments, which I successfully argued under a joinder application should be consolidated into one trial with four charges.
The Charges and Findings
The Court unanimously acquitted Bishop Ruch on all counts, finding no clear and convincing evidence of personal culpability:
Canon IV.2.3: Violation of Ordination Vows – Alleged failure to safeguard faith, unity, discipline, and pastoral care. The Court found no intentional or knowing misconduct; the bishop acted promptly upon disclosures (e.g., removing individuals, reporting to authorities, commissioning reviews).
Canon IV.2.4: Conduct Giving Just Cause for Scandal or Offense (including abuse of power) – Alleged actions causing public scandal. Not proven; any perceived offense arose from misinformation or systemic issues, not objective wrongdoing by the bishop.
Canon IV.2.9: Disobedience or Willful Contravention of Canons – Alleged intentional defiance of directives. No evidence of willful disobedience; cooperation with oversight was demonstrated.
Canon IV.2.10: Habitual Neglect of Duties – Alleged chronic pattern of omission. Rejected; vulnerabilities were institutional in a rapidly growing diocese, not personal habitual neglect.
The Court stressed that charges required proof of personal fault—willful, intentional, or gravely negligent acts—not mere structural shortcomings, hindsight judgments, or evolving best practices.
Jesus summarizes a further expression of this principle in Matthew 7:15–20: “You will recognize them by their fruits... Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus, you will recognize them by their fruits.”
A person (or teacher) is known and judged not by their other views of their intentions or by circumstances, but by the observable actions and outcomes they produce—“by their fruits you shall know them.”
Alignment with Anglican and Roman Catholic Canon Law Precedent
ACNA’s Title IV draws from Episcopal Church precedents, prioritizing accountability with restorative intent. Requiring specific elements (e.g., willfulness for disobedience, habituality for neglect) and rejecting retroactive standards aligns with Anglican tradition: offenses must materially discredit the Church, proven objectively, not by rumor or public outcry.
Comparatively, the 1983 Roman Catholic Code of Canon Law addresses similar delicts (e.g., Canons 1389 on abuse of power, 285 on unbecoming conduct). Penalties demand moral certainty and subjective culpability—grave negligence or intent—without punishing unintentional omissions or systemic flaws alone. Post-Vatican II and 2001 reforms emphasize reporting but distinguish mishandling from cover-up. The Ruch acquittal’s focus on proven personal responsibility mirrors Catholic avoidance of sanctioning mere administrative evolution.
Returning to the Golden Thread
What can we conclude from this thorough adjudication? After all facts were laid bare—testimony examined, evidence weighed, both sides heard—there were not sufficient grounds under the clear and convincing standard to overturn the presumption of innocence. The initial narrative, persuasive as it seemed (per Proverbs 18:17), did not withstand scrutiny.
Scripture solemnly declares in Numbers 32:23: “Be sure your sin will find you out.” Hidden wrongdoing cannot remain concealed forever; truth will prevail. This process was precisely such an adjudication of truth. It exonerated Bishop Ruch, finding no canonical offense.
In jurisprudential terms, both American and Canadian common law traditions—rooted in the same English heritage—view an acquittal in a fair trial as a full exoneration: the accused is declared not guilty based on the evidence presented, restoring their standing absent proven fault. This aligns with Blackstone’s formulation that it is “better that ten guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer,” emphasizing protection of the innocent through rigorous proof.
The Church should celebrate and take confidence: the system worked, and worked well, discerning truth amid pain and complexity. Courts are not infallible—human judges err—but here, men and women of good faith reviewed voluminous evidence and reached a reasoned conclusion to exonerate Bishop Ruch.
This contrasts sharply with the trial of Bishop Todd Atkinson (Via Apostolica). There, with me serving as Prosecutor, the same Court found clear and convincing evidence of guilt on four counts of abuse of ecclesiastical power (including inappropriate relationships, interference in families, and manipulation). Atkinson was convicted, and on May 9, 2024, the College of Bishops deposed him from ministry (see the official court order: https://anglicanchurch.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Court-for-the-Trial-of-a-Bishop-Atkinson-Order-Redacted.pdf). The contrast illuminates the system’s integrity: it acquits where evidence falls short and convicts where it abounds, pursuing truth without partiality.
In embracing this golden thread—innocence until proven guilty, truth through examination—the ACNA honors both common law heritage and biblical wisdom, fostering a Church where justice heals rather than divides.
Your essay rests on a confidence I cannot share, that a canonical acquittal, faithfully rendered, can be treated as a moral settling of accounts. That confidence is precisely what troubles me, not because due process is unimportant, but because you treat process as though it were morally exhaustive.
An acquittal under Title IV establishes one thing and one thing only, that the prosecution failed to prove personal canonical culpability to a clear and convincing standard as defined by the elements of the canons in force. It does not establish that harm did not occur. It does not establish that leadership was adequate. It does not establish that oversight was sufficient. And it most certainly does not establish that the Church has discharged its moral or pastoral obligations to those wounded under her authority.
Yet your essay repeatedly moves, quietly but decisively, from “not proven” to “vindicated,” from juridical insufficiency to institutional reassurance, as though the Church’s moral imagination ought to halt precisely where the court adjourns. That is not legal rigor; it is a category error. No competent civil lawyer would argue that an acquittal exhausts fiduciary, administrative, or remedial responsibility. The Church should not be held to a lower moral standard than a corporation.
You also invoke the “golden thread” of the presumption of innocence as though it were a comprehensive moral principle rather than a narrowly tailored safeguard against the coercive power of the state. Woolmington and Blackstone were speaking in the shadow of the gallows. Their concern was the violence of the Crown. The Church does not wield that kind of power, or, if it does, God help us. To import criminal-law presumptions wholesale into ecclesial life and treat them as morally sufficient is to confuse restraint of power with preservation of authority.
What was meant to protect the innocent from state violence becomes, in your telling, a theological solvent capable of dissolving responsibility, repair, and repentance alike.
Now, you are correct that Title IV requires proof of personal fault—willfulness, habituality, intent. What you do not acknowledge is that canonical acquittal has never exhausted canonical responsibility. Anglican canon law, from its earliest formulations, distinguished between penal guilt, scandal to the body, and pastoral failure. A bishop could escape juridical sanction and still be subject to correction, limitation, visitation, or removal for the sake of the Church’s health. Discipline was never merely punitive; it was medicinal. To treat the absence of a conviction as the completion of justice is to mistake the instrument for the telos.
For what it's worth, I think your sharp distinction between “personal misconduct” and “systemic shortcomings” only deepens the problem. Systems do not fail spontaneously. They fail because leaders tolerate gaps, normalize exceptions, defer hard decisions, or misunderstand their charge. Episcopal authority is not merely reactive; it is formative. To say that failures were institutional rather than personal is not an exculpation. It is an indictment at a higher level of responsibility.
Civil law understands this perfectly well. Fiduciary duty and negligent supervision exist precisely because leadership can be culpable without malice or intent. The Church’s reluctance to apply analogous moral reasoning to its own hierarchy is not theological sophistication; it is special pleading.
Most striking, however, is what your essay never addresses, the moral weight of delay and silence. Justice deferred is not morally neutral time. It is time in which victims remain exposed, communities disoriented, and truth subordinated to risk management. The Gospel does not recognize a category called procedural neutrality. Every moment is already a moral act. When the Church’s first words in a crisis are legal assurances rather than lament, it has already chosen its posture.
Christ did not await probable cause. He did not convene a board of inquiry. He healed publicly, rebuked power openly, and accepted false accusation rather than preserve institutional dignity. A Church that invokes Matthew 7 while forgetting Matthew 18 has mistaken fruit inspection for discipleship.
None of this requires asserting Bishop Ruch’s guilt. That is precisely the point. One can accept the acquittal in full and still reject the triumphalist narrative you construct around it. To do otherwise is to confuse legal sufficiency with moral adequacy, process completion with justice, and institutional survival with ecclesial faithfulness.
The true test of a disciplinary system is not whether it can acquit, but whether it can repent; not whether it can defend innocence, but whether it can tell the truth about power; not whether it reassures the institution, but whether it restores trust.
The golden thread of justice, when severed from mercy, becomes a golden calf—beautifully fashioned, ritually defended, and utterly incapable of saving the people who kneel before it. The Church does not need better verdicts. It needs better courage. And courage, unlike procedure, cannot be delegated to a court.
It must be borne by shepherds willing to step into the light—before the law requires it.
Blessings to you. +Stewart is my bishop. Through these very difficult 4+ years, he has inspired us by his godly, humble character. He is the most pastoral leader I’ve ever known. I’m 68 and have been in full time ministry since I was 24. I’ve witnessed many leaders fall. I remain forever grateful for Bishop Stewart.