Editor’s note: Voices is a weekly commentary by a panel of Maine columnists who explore issues affecting spirituality and religious life.

Years ago, on a Sunday morning, I rose early to savor the quiet city dawn of Cambridge, Mass. At 7:50 a.m. I was unaware of the tragedy unfolding two stories above me inside Dunster House, one of Harvard University’s dormitories.

For weeks, the Harvard community had been engaged in a heated debate. The admissions office had offered early acceptance to a gifted student. Later, trustees discovered and made public that when she was very young, the student had stabbed a stepparent to death. Gina had been tried and convicted and served the penalty passed down by the juvenile court. Since then, she had straight A’s and many other community service and athletic achievements to her credit.

The Harvard admissions office and trustees, claiming a responsibility to protect the student body, reversed their decision to admit Gina. Rather than act out of faith in their original assessment of Gina, they chose to act out of fear of public criticism and out of fear of litigation should Gina again commit a violent act.

At 7:50 a.m., as I walked by the Dunster House, another person, a Harvard freshman, was stabbing her roommate to death.

Ironically, the trustees’ protectionism had not prevented the very horror they feared. In addition, it had cost them an opportunity to model the power of faith and trust.

The recent inauguration of the registered sexual offenders Web site and mandatory notification requirements of convicted sexual offenders confronts individuals, neighborhoods and institutions with a similar difficult choice. The legal attempt to protect children and adults from sexual assault and abuse also invites fear-based disregard for a person’s humanity. How do we as ministers, congregations, schools and neighborhoods practice some of the fundamental values of our faiths: loving our neighbor, welcoming the stranger, forgiveness, respecting the dignity and worth of all persons while assuring the safety of our children, youth and adults?

I understand the percentages of recidivism. I also know there are cases of inadequate, misleading or erroneous identifications of individuals. I have witnessed the pain and suffering caused by public notifications of a sexual offender’s presence that were not well thought out.

I know this case: My sister’s husband of 15 years was convicted and served two years for sexually abusing children. Anne and Joe remained married for another 15 years. I had two small daughters at the time of Joe’s conviction and had to continually choose between my love of my sister, my judgments of her husband, and the safety of my daughters. My children are now grown; my sister and her husband are both deceased. Before they died we were able to negotiate the necessary balance between love, respect, forgiveness and safety.

We all know the strength of fear’s grip. We also know that we can loosen fear’s grip by choosing to act on faith in something greater. Harvard chose a prudent position, considering the litigious nature of our society. Had Harvard officials allowed their decision for early admission to stand, they still could not have saved the co-ed who was stabbed. They would have incurred more liability by admitting Gina, but they also would have engaged a critical opportunity to thwart fear and prejudice.

There is an Islamic saying: “Trust Allah, but tie your camel.” Well-thought-out, safe congregation policies, disruptive-behavior policies, negotiated responsible contracts with known offenders and compassionate vigilance can offer offenders a place in our communities while keeping our children safe. We can be safe and welcoming, maturing our faith in human goodness.

Isn’t that what faith and growth are always about? Letting go of our habitual behaviors, breathing through our fears and stretching, sometimes painfully, our hearts and minds to new ways of being? What does it say of our faiths if we cannot step out on a limb, trusting, while tying our camels? The primary God-given gift of humanity is free will. We have a responsibility to use that free will with our best intentions. For every action freely chosen there is a reciprocal response. When we move our fingers, the stars move. Whenever we choose reconciliation, love or compassion, we increase the power of peace, love and compassion in this world. Whenever we act out of fear, judgment or hate, we perpetuate the power of fear, judgment and hate.

No one can change what unfolded at Harvard or for Ann and Joe. Life has moved on. Our power lies in today and tomorrow, affecting what happens from this moment forward. We choose. We decide, moment to moment, which forces will dominate this world of ours.

Choose intentionally. Choose wisely. It matters.

The Rev. Elaine Beth Peresluha is minister of the Unitarian Universalist Society of Bangor. The views expressed are solely her own. She may be reached via bdnreligion@bangordailynews.net.