Serhild’s framing on the stewardship split — Wyrd as triage surgeon amputating branches that risk the rootstock, the Church as shepherd counting a return that might be a lie. Both steward a wound that never heals; they only disagree on whether it’s a symptom or the whole treatment. Which do you trust with the fragments: the one who lovingly curates their forgetting, or the one who promises a shepherd that probably doesn’t exist? And the Gang refuses to pick a wound at all — sabotage as theological humility. That’s the flag worth hanging.