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September 30, 2009

Jason Byassee: A pastoral response to meanness

A pastor friend greeted a visitor after church Sunday. Normally, it’s a joyous moment. If as a pastor you don’t feel the joy, you had better fake it. Look the person in the eye. Thank them for coming. And do everything you can to figure out who they are so you can visit them, encourage them to come back, and bring them into the church.

None of that happened this time.

As the pastor extended her hand the visitor took it, told her she was “a goddamn liar” and stomped out, muttering something about abortion and tax dollars. Apparently the pastor had offended the visitor during the prayer requests, when she referred to the vitriol on display at a political rally in Washington the day before. The pastor’s sermon wasn’t even about that. It didn’t matter.

This verbal assault on a pastor by a stranger struck me as strikingly similar to the “You lie!” that Rep. Joe Wilson of South Carolina shouted at President Barack Obama during his recent address to Congress. The public yawp of rudeness -- whether at the church door or in the House chamber -- is what is most striking. We do not have a tradition of heckling our head of state in this country. We don’t impugn their characters to their face in front of a world audience. To the best of my knowledge, the same has generally been true for pastors as well. We certainly don’t curse at them in the brief post-worship doorway visits. Or at least we didn’t until recently.

What do these two nasty instances of rudeness, one a public scandal, the other a private exchange, mean? One, as several evangelical authors have pointed out in fine, but clearly underread books, we need to retrieve a culture of civility. Wherever basic kindness has gone, wherever at least minimal deference for positions of authority may be hiding, we could stand to get some of it back. Blame whomever you like (my preference is hate radio). But people used to believe in respect for the office that an authority occupied, even if not for the individual currently holding it. Liberals were naturally guilty of the same disrespect for individuals that blurred into disrespect of an office during George Bush’s presidency. And clearly one visitor to a church needs to learn how to mind her manners.

Second, I’m struck by the enormity of the claim that someone is lying. It’s an extraordinarily high bar to clear to show that someone is knowingly contravening the truth. It’s much easier to claim that someone is wrong, and grant that there may be legitimate difference of opinion on a matter. But to claim that a pastor or president knows a truth and intentionally misleads away from it is another thing altogether.

My third observation is that pastors have a responsibility to stand up and confront rudeness, whether at the doorway on Sunday or in a congregational meeting.

This reflection comes from an incident recounted by another pastor friend. In a contentious congregational meeting, longtime members thundered away about how terrible a proposed new ministry initiative would be, while newer members mostly cowered on the sidelines.

Thinking about the incident later, the pastor asked “Why have we let people think it’s ok to act like that?” As in most congregations, her older members had been faithfully attending, participating and tithing for decades.

But we pastors, being peacemaker types, have not confronted them when they bullied others. This has been a pastoral disservice. To treat a pastor or anyone else like dirt is to act in a way unworthy of the life we are called to as Christians.

Maybe the best way we can push back is with a counter-assault —of kindness.

I’m talking about an aggressive kindness that takes sheer meanness, absorbs it and responds with love. This is not a proposal for wimpiness, but strength. It’s the sort of answer Jesus gives to those who murdered him. Not acquiescence, or passive acceptance, but active, engaged, love -- often of enemies. Brian McLaren writes that the best way to respond to the fanatical hatred we see among fundamentalists is with equal fanaticism— fanatical love. But at the same time, I’m talking about an aggressive kindness that also holds others to account.

Perhaps the best model of aggressive kindness is the civil rights movement, which used engaged nonviolence to hold others accountable and changed the world. Given the rise of angry public discourse we may need a new infusion of it just to survive the average congregational meeting or random angry visitors.

What would kindness have meant in my friends’ situations? At the door, maybe nothing. Maybe a simple “We don’t talk that way in this house,” would have been kind enough.

In routine congregational life, a pastor might not be the best person to insist on kindness from parishioners. Healthy churches often have a leader or two who is willing to take another aside and talk sense to them. Pastors come and go. Fellow patriarchs or matriarchs stay behind. One who has the guts to insist on kindness from a fellow parishioner goes a long way toward a healthy congregation—one in which would-be bullies aren’t allowed to gore the innocent without challenge.

Jason Byassee is an executive director of Leadership Education at Duke Divinity.

11 Comments

The original blog post was

The original blog post was more enlightening on the nature of the incident. It wasn't just the reference to the protesters -- it was that the women in question were at the rally, and didn't appreciate having not only their actions or opinions but their motives impugned as having their source in hatred. Then being implicitly equated to fundamentalist fringe hate-preachers.

Such a public display of anger towards the pastor was truly inappropriate and wrong, but the second woman's note was telling. They felt attacked from the pulpit.

Maybe the response of love should be confession of our own mistakes first, even if we are mostly in the right. It should also be to assume the best even of our enemies. I do not agree with the tea party types, particularly in reference to healthcare, but I think we should be generous enough to acknowledge that they are mostly motivated by fear, not hate. There are legitimate differences of opinion. They may even be right about some things.

So...

Hey Travis, thanks for the comment. Actually Donna spoke of her concern during prayer requests, which carries a different freight than making a claim during a sermon. And even so was their reaction on the way out one that could possibly be considered appropriate in any way? I had parishioners express real anger with me in a way that I honored--because they stuck to the point in question (not muttering about other unrelated things) and we knew we shared a love for the church. Later I could go patch things up, apologize, receive their apology or whatever. But neither of us would have stood for the other to cuss us out.

Perhaps there is another problem at work . . .

Jason: Thanks for this post, and your blogging. I attend a large evangelical Anglican church in northern Virginia, and I have noticed a change over the last few years in the nature of things being prayed for during the "prayers of the people" in our liturgy. Almost every Sunday results in "dueling intercessions," in which progressive pray-ers and traditionalist pray-ers go back and forth praying for opposite goals and sometimes demonizing anyone who would differ with their request. This is a sub-optimal situation, and results to rein in the conflict through rubrics in the worship leaflet have been unsuccessful, but the one thing we have avoided is the involvement of the ministers in provoking these exchanges (with no diminution in the fervor of their own prayers). I think that worship leaders are under a special obligation to consider the weaker brethren and sisters when fashioning prayers, and neglect of this obligation seems to be part of the problem situation about which you posted. Did the pastor really need to refer to a specific demonstration and a particular interest group to make her point, or could she have prayed in a more general sense, while acknowledging the plank in her own eye?

Beating around the burning bush

Buddhism's Three Gates of Speech ask (1) is it true, (2) is it kind, and (3) is it necessary? That stool, meant to have three legs for stability, falls over if the only leg put on it is kindness. If the clergy only ever speak in general terms in an effort not to offend, we leave open a wide gap for people to say or think, "That doesn't apply to me because my concern is unique." Some people will take offense no matter how humbly and kindly we state our concerns. In the words of one church secretary, "Some people aren't happy unless they're not happy." They seldom concern themselves with humility, so talking with them in general terms gets us nowhere. Of course we all need to be humble, but since when does being humble preclude being forthright? The prophets spoke out clearly about unjust behavior, as did Jesus. Once Moses stopped beating around the burning bush, he confronted Pharaoh openly and with detail. Now, if someone chooses to construe from this that I'm branding anyone as Pharoah, you're missing the point. Don't hold back when speaking the truth is necessary, just make sure to speak the truth in love.

what to say

LOVE "We don't talk that way in this house" as a retort. Also might reach, personally, for "Would you like to use your grown-up words?"

the problem

Problem with these retorts is that they escalate rather than de-escalate. How about a humble, "Ouch. That hurts."

But

But isn't there a time and place for drawing attention to things that destroy community life in the long term, even though doing so might intensify conflict in the short term? Sometimes I find that careful escalation can be useful for exposing destructive attitudes that get a pass when they're hidden under the surface. (And to be fair, maybe I'm ... Read Moreveering off-topic here -- but I'm thinking especially about conversations about oppression and privilege where making it all about soothing personal hurt feelings and clarifying personal intentions plays handily into ignoring the patterns that allow Group X to grow up believing they have privilege to help themselves to Group Y however they like. Like, I think of the times I've been sexually harassed; and it would not have helped me at all to say "Ouch. That hurts." That expression of vulnerability would have only played into the dynamic for the harasser. Being humble and self-disclosing is not something that everyone's equally in a position to do. I think it can be just as christlike to say "You're behaving in ways that uphold injustice. You need to stop it now, or leave."

It depends

It depends on who is in the position of power. If you are in the position of power, you can say "Ouch. That hurts." If you're in a position of weakness, you can say, "That's not appropriate. I'm not going to tolerate that," and then walk away. If you're protecting others, you can say, "For the sake of these other people, I'm asking you to stop."

Of course, if we're talking criminal activity or abusive behavior, other reactions may be appropriate, like escorting someone off the property or calling the police.

But in general, clergy are in positions of power -- not just old white men, but even women, people of color, and young people. If you're wearing the robe, you're the figure of authority. In general, I think people in positions of authority should practice humility.... Read More

This is a huge topic, isn't it. The situation would be entirely different in a church council meeting, where vested interests might be undermining the clergy and might need to be stopped.

Bologna

:) I'm smiling and nodding in overall agreement. I think I'd slice the bologna a bit thinner there and say that, e.g., a white straight upper-class able-bodied older man cussing out a young female queer working-class pastor of color is still in a position of power/privilege with respect to almost every axis (male privilege, white privilege, class ... Read Moreprivilege, heterosexism, etc.) except the clergy/laity distinction. And if he's, say, a trustee of the church and it's a church with congregational polity then it may be she's vulnerable to him for employment, too. But, yeah... I absolutely agree that it makes the powers and principalities wobble just a bit when a powerful and privileged person is self-disclosing and vulnerable and humble.

Good Day!

Thank you so much for sharing thoughts i hope to read more informative articles on your site soon.

Nice Story

good story, i just say Don't hold back when speaking the truth is necessary

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