So Many Options for Peacemaking; So Little Peace Being Made

If peacemakers are blessed, as Jesus says, then we should try to make peace. Certainly, it’s easier said than done. But you’d think, with so many options available, that something would work.

Option One

“Peace through superior firepower.” This is the basis of the peace imposed on others by various empires. For example, the Pax Romana (The Roman Peace), the Pax Brittanica (The British Peace), the Pax Americana (I think you’re catching on by now), and the Pax Seres (coming soon). It also forms the basis for the wide appeal of the Colt Single-Action Army Revolver ever since 1873, along with the marketing of other weapons and arms systems.

In Romans 13:3-4, the Apostle Paul notes that civil authority “does not bear the sword for nothing; for it is a minister of God, an avenger who brings wrath on the one who practices evil.” When law enforcement arrives in most confrontations, the superior firepower often results in a more peaceful resolution than would otherwise occur. But sometimes, the result resembles option two instead.

Option Two

“Peace through identifying common enemies.” Law enforcement officers responding to domestic violence calls know this option well. While a battered spouse may call in hopes of limiting or preventing further physical assault, when it proves necessary to arrest and remove the batterer (or, often, simply the least battered of the two), officers know how quickly they can face not only the resistance of the one being arrested, but of the reporting party as well.

This option has been practiced throughout church history, of course. In its better moments, widely differing denominations and traditions have united for the good of their communities, combating oppression, exploitation, and other damaging influences. With the multiplication of traditions and denominations through schisms, splits, and other church-fights, leaders have often found it advantageous to unite their constituents by focusing on some far more egregious belief or practice seen elsewhere. “Yes, I know these are important issues to resolve…someday. But for now, we need to unite in order to demonstrate the wrongs of our brothers and sisters in (insert name of contrasting theology, tradition, or denomination here).” This practice can also result in option three.

Option Three

“Peace through mutually-assured destruction.” At this writing, two local congregations in my community have suspended operations. One was accused of schism because they objected to the significant shift in theology of the parent denomination. That congregation, largely intact, now meets elsewhere than the building the built and maintained for decades, which now stands empty. The other congregation has endured over a decade of intermittent scattering and regathering, with a variety of issues quoted as causes. Just as options one and two are rarely successful in bringing about peace, so also the threat of mutually-assured destruction does not dissuade conflicting parties from proceeding with their destructive actions. Is there anyone more certain of how right they are than the zealot with the bomb strapped to his own chest?

And yet, some of us see the results of such passionate pursuits, and we determine to avoid not only those holding other positions in such fervor, but any fervor for our own positions as well. And this leads us to the fourth of our options.

Option Four

“Peace through apathetic resignation.” Eeyore is the most peaceful of all the inhabitants in the Hundred-Acre Wood. Granted, he may provoke less-than-optimal responses in others. Tigger’s hyperactivity may be seen as a necessary counter-balance to the contagious lethargy that might otherwise afflict him. Kanga’s maternal instincts are probably enhanced in an attempt to prevent Roo from growing up to experience similar depressive episodes. Even Pooh’s self-medication through his honey addiction may be a vain attempt to heighten life’s enjoyments, even as he shortens its duration through diabetes and, probably, heart disease as well. But for all the collateral damage he might inflame in others, Eeyore will always be the least conflicted of all. He simply does not care enough to hold any other expectation than the worst of all possibilities.

That place of depressed indifference is, I can attest, a peaceful place to be.

Conclusion

There is a means of peacemaking, however, that is blessed, and effective, and relates directly to being the “called children of God” (as Jesus states in the next to last beatitude—Matthew 5:9). If we do remember that all human persons are created to bear the image and likeness of our creator, God, then there are mutual interests we can serve together. The lowest common denominators can be identified in keeping with “The Rule of Threes” in medical triage as air, warmth, water, and food. Three minutes without air, three hours without warmth, three days without water, or three weeks without food, and we cannot help but experience significant physical damage.

We desire so much more, of course. But when our desires outstrip our needs, do we recognize the imbalance that results? If I can acquire more than what I need, then I consign others to have less than what I would want, perhaps less than they would need. And why do I want more? Because I am not at peace with myself, the bearer of God’s image and likeness. Why? Because I do not count my relationship with Him as sufficient. If I am not at peace with God, then I will inflict the iniquity of inequity upon anyone who might prevent me from getting what I want. That, in turn, invites conflict from those who are prevented from having what they need…simply because I want more than that.

Make peace with God, so that you may be at peace with yourself, which enables you to live at peace with others. Or, you can get a bigger gun, and gather others against a mutual enemy, in order to ensure that there will be no survivors on either side, and then—hopefully—recognize the futility of your pursuits and sink into the existential despair of motiveless lethargy.

That, of course, is a peaceful place to be, too. But not nearly so blessed as making peace and being called children of God.

No Apologies, Part Two – What you should say to those who say they’re sorry.

Nice graphic representation of
an imperative sentence.

 In part one, I laid out three common types of apologies, and recommended that we should decline to accept any of them. That left the question, however, “If we were to refuse one another’s apologies, then what do we do about the misunderstandings, offenses and other damage we do in the course of our relationships?” Here’s the answer to that question.

Repentance as an Alternative to Apology – The worst thing about apologizing is that it fails to address any real change in the damaging behavior. Apologies allow us to avoid repentance. But before any suggestion that we need to repent, we need to know what that word means.

Repentance is rare enough in its partial and limited forms. But where some emphasize the emotions of being “sorry” for one’s sins, others portray it as merely stopping a particular behavior, while too few acknowledge that there are accompanying attitudes that need to change as well. In short, repentance involves “all of the above,” along with recognizing and implementing the positive behavior that replaces and displaces the pattern of wrongs that apologies reinforce.

Not a bad idea, especially if you have trouble imagining
the kinds of things that lead to and enable your bad behavior.

In short, here’s what repentance sounds like: “This is what I did. This is how it has hurt you. This is how I propose to repair the damage I have done. And these are the steps I am taking to change my behavior, the attitudes that led to it, and the other ways it shows up even when I’m not harming you in this particular way.” Is this level of detail necessary for every wrong we’ve done? Yes. Otherwise it is too easy for us to ignore the realities that repentance requires.

Jesus said that murder not only has its root in anger, but anger, even when it results only in abusive words, damages so severely as to merit similar consequences. Each harmful action requires repentance, because no single instance of wrong occurs without a supporting cast of underlying attitudes and enabling behaviors. So also it is with the lust that not only may lead to adultery, but that is adultery. Likewise any other breach in our relationships stems from a lack of consideration for those relationships. When we do harm to another, it is because the causes and patterns supporting that harm have taken root within our souls. Therefore, if we choose to repent, then the causes deserve as much attention as the effects.

For more on the "Non-Apology Apology," the "Apology as
Reset-Button," and the "Rationalizing Apology,"
see Part One.

This is why there is still one more element we have to eliminate.

The Folly of False Forgiveness – There is one other factor to be considered in our decision to decline an apology. Too often, Christians especially seem intent on demanding forgiveness in return for an apology. “I said I’m sorry. Don’t be so judgmental. Jesus said you have to forgive me, or you’ll go to hell.” That theology may seem a little warped to some. But the underlying causes of our judgmental attitudes and actions fit the same pattern as above and must be as directly confronted. (e.g., Matthew 6:14-15 and Romans 2:1-4.)

Wouldn’t the wiser path, then, be to simply ignore the wrong, forget the pain, and move forward toward freedom in having forgiven? That is the advice many well-meaning Christians would give. And yet, it requires the pretense that we can “move forward” as though “nothing ever happened.” Practically speaking, that is dangerous. Scripturally speaking, it is unsupportable, even when there is repentance.

God built our brains so that we learn from experience.
Forgiveness is a decision, based on knowledge.
There is no forgetting some of what has been done.

Even when someone claims to be truly repenting, forgiveness involves great risk, and should be undertaken only by those who trust Christ for their protection and provision. Showing mercy is always costly. Yet Jesus does admonish us that when someone comes to us, even seven times in one day, and says that they are repenting, we are to forgive them for what they have done in the past.

Still, forgiveness is not forgetfulness. The patterns of behavior that Jesus noted in the Scribes, Pharisees, Romans, crowds and others suggested that His hearers must constantly be aware of their probable responses and reactions. Whether refusing to cast “pearls before swine,” or to allow the crowds to make Him king by force, or even to let His own disciples thwart His mission by their insistence on turning Him away from danger, Jesus accepted that the attitudes and actions of others would eventually end His life, and yet forgave even those who stood by as He died at their hands.

Had to include this one since it shows my repentance
from intolerance for grammar and spelling errors.

So, we are free to forgive even the unrepentant, of course. But we need not do so ignorantly. Nor are we to do so on the basis of mere words, no matter how “sorry” someone may seem. And even where there is a claim of repentance, John the Baptist’s call to “bear fruit in keeping with repentance” suggests that we would be wise to wait for a new pattern of behaviors to be well-established before choosing to entrust ourselves to the perpetrator in the future.

So, without apology, I recommend that you begin to decline apologies…and pursue repentance and forgiveness instead.

So, how would I recommend you respond to someone’s apology?

“Repent, sinner” works for me.

No Apologies, Part One – Why you should say No to those who say they’re sorry.

Feel free to submit in triplicate to the offended party.

I’m tired of hearing “I’m sorry.” Before you apologize for having said “I’m sorry,” please bear with my own apology for being so slow to admit how annoying I find it. In part, it’s because I’ve lost patience with those who abuse the privilege. So many apologize so constantly for repeating the same bad behaviors that I’ve come to recognize three particular kinds of apology—and I believe we are best served by declining, rejecting, or even rebuking each of them.

Not the most popular rack at Hallmark. Most prefer to write their own.

The Non-Apology Apology – Sports fans and other celebrity-cultists quickly become familiar with the non-apology apology. There are several phrasings, but the blame-shifting remains the same. You’ve heard, no doubt, some form of “I apologize to anyone who may have been hurt by reports of my actions.” Clearly, the fault lies not with the perpetrator of domestic violence, sexual assault, drunk driving, racist ranting, or whatever other egregious behavior is in view. No, the problem is caused either by those who reported the actions or, just as frequently, those whose sensibilities are too fragile to withstand another onslaught against their hopes for upholding basic societal standards.

This would make a nice insert with your choice of card from above.

The non-apology apology is the most popular of the apologies, mostly because each instance is broadcast to millions of potential imitators. Others, like the two below, are experienced more personally.

The Apology as Reset-Button – If you’ve been offered a series of apologies, each one more elaborate, for behaviors that become more egregious with each new instance, then you likely recognize the pattern that accompanies abusive, bullying, or otherwise manipulative relationships. You recognize the echoes of “I’m so sorry. That will never happen again.” You also know the threat or pain that prohibits you from pointing out that it has happened again. Early on, perhaps you incurred the protest, “Why do you keep bringing that up? I said I’m sorry that I do that.” Now, you see no need to hear again that “You need to learn to accept it; that’s just how I am.” You’re supposed to have reset your level of tolerance for another’s behavior to accept yet another new low. You can still object, but only when behaviors surpass the severity of those already apologized for (no matter how often the behavior is repeated). In fact, you’ve probably been made to apologize for pointing out that the other person’s prior apologies appear to have effected no change in their behavior.

Apology Bingo: Works just as well with "Law and Order" episodes
as it does with ESPN's Sportcenter.

Declining to accept an apology seems impolite, but please don’t apologize. Not even if you want to use this last type of apology and tell me why you don’t really need to apologize at all.

The Rationalizing Apology – This pattern actually comes closest to the classic definitions of “apology” as providing a defense or explanation for one’s behavior. The reason I recommend rejecting it as an apology is that it eludes any responsibility for changing that behavior, especially around the person to whom the behavior is being explained. “You know I would never have done that if I hadn’t been so…” angry, or drunk, or tired, or stressed, or surprised, or whatever other mitigating factors explain and excuse my decision to behave badly toward you. Often, this apology saddles the person who is supposed to accept the apology with the responsibility for the bad behavior. If you don’t want to endure it again, then you must change the circumstances that led to it. This differs from the Non-Apology Apology in that it admits that the behavior itself is offensive or damaging. But in some ways it is worse, shifting responsibility and all but guaranteeing a repetition of the behavior at whatever point circumstances warrant it.

Am I saying that you should not accept an apology? Yes. Am I saying not to forgive those who say, “I’m sorry,” especially if they repeat it often? Yes. But if we were to refuse one another’s apologies, then what do we do about the misunderstandings, offenses and other damage we do in the course of our relationships?

We’ll discuss that in part two.

But you should be warned: Part Two gets even more direct about the alternative to apologies.

An Image Problem or an Essence Problem: What is wrong with us Christians? – Part Three, Why I Am an Evangelical – and Why I Am Often Reluctant to Say So

Paul Louis Metzger

As part of our doctoral studies at Multnomah Biblical Seminary, we have been intensely exploring The Beatitudes, the statements of blessing Jesus pronounced at the very beginning of The Sermon on the Mount in the fifth through seventh chapters of Matthew’s gospel. To say they are considered to be counter-intuitive would be an understatement. But for some of us, certain ones seem to make more sense, to reflect our experience, or to explain our perceptions more resonantly than others. As a certified Thanatologist (Thus being “Death Pastor,” studying, teaching and counseling in death, dying, bereavement, grief and mourning.), I get the “blessed are those who mourn,” since I often work with those who have been told to suppress any expressions of grief following their loss. Being allowed to openly mourn would be a great blessing for many of us.

But Jesus starts with what seems to me like a direct contradiction. Being blessed suggests receiving spiritual equity of some kind. So, being “poor in spirit” would be involve a very brief interlude of “spiritual poverty” before a blessing replenished the account. In discussing this Beatitude, Paul Louis Metzger contrasts our tendency in the 21^st Century North American Church “‘can do anything’ attitude” that embodies a “sense of optimism and an unconquerable spirit.” I share Dr. Metzger’s perception. I regularly face the frustrations serving those whose spiritual arrogance deludes them into selectively proof-texting from scripture and drawing from multiple, conflicting theologies in order to support whatever beliefs and behaviors they seek to rationalize.

Marvin Lee Aday
(aka Meat Loaf)

It is possible, however, that I so readily recognize their pride because of my own sense of spiritual poverty. In hopes of helping you to understand my struggles in this area, let me share a few things that resonate with me.

One of them is a song, “Objects in the Rearview Mirror,” by Jim Steinman. In it, the performer Meat Loaf (originally Marvin Lee Aday) sings of those memories that reach out at us from our past. Of a tragically killed High School friend: “There are times I think I see him peeling out of the dark; I think he’s right behind me now and he’s gaining ground.” Of his “dangerous and drunk and defeated” abusive father: “And though the nightmares should be over, some of the terrors are still intact; I’ll hear that ugly, coarse and violent voice, and then he grabs me from behind and then he pulls me back.”

Mark Hall of Casting Crowns

Another, more recent song written by Mark Hall and Bernie Herms and recorded by Casting Crowns is entitled “East to West.” Contemplating how “the chains of yesterday surround me,” the lyrics haunt me every time the chorus proclaims, “I can’t bear to see the man I’ve been come rising up in me again,” which only reinforces my frequent feeling that “I’m just one mistake away from You leaving me this way.”

Then, just last week, I read a film review by the late Roger Ebert in which he discusses the genre “film noir” and writes, “The noir hero is never good, just kidding himself, living in ignorance of his dark side until events demonstrate it to him.” That is my fear. And it is two-fold.

The late Roger Ebert

One way that my fear of my “dark side” manifests itself is in the potential for sudden, unanticipated temptation. God promises a way of escape so that I can endure any temptation (I Corinthians 10:13), but I also know that I have made impulsive decisions before. I am not immune to the excuse, “It seemed like the thing to do at the time.” And although I am aware of many areas in which temptations of my past try to use the long-abandoned tracks, I occasionally find myself drawn to the bright light of what I know from sad experience to be the same oncoming train.

"Misty, water-colored memories..."
of what I fear may be "The Way I Still Am"

But here is another “dark side” where the manifestations seem much more frequent and severe. And the fact that I don’t see them in myself worries me greatly. As I’ve been contemplating Jared Champion’s blog post (here’s the link again), I’ve acknowledged that there is much in Evangelicalism that does exhibit a “message of anger, intolerance, and fear.” My greatest concern, however, is not that I might be found guilty by association with others claiming to be Evangelicals. (That is, of course, something I’m used to experiencing. But similar issues would apply to whatever label or category might apply to me.) What I fear most is that I remain oblivious to stereotypes, prejudices and preferences that color my devotion to God, my study of scripture and my service of others (which I am careful to note is to be Christ’s service in and through me toward others—II Corinthians 4:5).

And yet, I cannot help but see that I am being transformed
more and more each day by the One on Whom I choose
to fix my gaze.

But to conclude this episode in my contemplations, I do need to clarify for some that I am an Evangelical. Whatever that term may mean to others, and whomever may misappropriate the term for their own socio-economic, political, or other uses, the definitions of Evangelical apply to me. I might choose other words in some cases. And I definitely believe far more than what is stated in the shorter versions. But I do understand that they must often be minimalist in order to be inclusive of all Evangelicals. If you’re interested in specific details of what the term means, perhaps the most comprehensive is that of The Lausanne Movement, and among the shortest is that of the National Association of Evangelicals.

Here's hoping that you, too, may see the King.

An upcoming teaching series called “Stumpers” will provide an opportunity for those attending Adult Bible Study at The Glenburn Community Church to inquire about my stance on the Trinity, Jesus Christ, the Holy Bible, the Atonement, the Holy Spirit, the Afterlife, and the Unity of The Church. If you’re not within a Sunday’s drive to the heart of the Fall River Valley, please feel free to ask about any of those issues, or others, in the comment section below.

But my hope is that more will ask about how it is that an Evangelical who believes in the exclusivity of the gospel of Jesus Christ is able to reconcile the inclusivity of doing theology-in-community, much less engaging in community-service ministry. If someone asks, there’s probably a blog-post to be said about that as well.

Blessed To Be Able To Pursue Happiness, though Cheated, Tortured, and Diseased

Does the Creator promise us life, liberty, and happiness? No. According to the United States of America, we deserve only the right to pursue happiness. And many of us do so inconsistently, even poorly, even in those few categories where some agree what happiness should look like.

Recently, Paul Louis Metzger quoted Augustine of Hippo at length regarding the mistaken pursuits of happiness, offering that “Some of us grieve over not obtaining happiness. Others of us think we have achieved it, but we are deceived. Others of us have the proper object of happiness, but we fail to realize it.” You can read the full quote, and the post in which it appears here. But Augustine describes three categories of those seeking happiness. The tortured seek happiness in what they cannot obtain. The cheated achieve what ultimately proves not to make them happy. And the diseased decline to seek for happiness at all.

But the questions all this raises for me are these: First, can happiness even be sought? And second, if happiness could be sought, how would one go about doing so?

In The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-12), Jesus pronounces the sentence of blessing or happiness over eight categories of persons whom we would hardly identify as happy: the spiritually impoverished, the bereaved, the gentle, those who long for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted.

The impulse to ask, “Seriously?!” comes from the place that recognizes these pronouncements as being what Metzger labels as “counterintuitive.” Certainly we should question whether any sane person would seek to be in any of these categories. But we would be wise to wonder whether anyone even could seek to do so. Part of being “pure in heart” would be the absence of any striving to purify ourselves, relying instead on the sanctifying (holy-making) work of God through the Holy Spirit. Trying to be peacemakers often prompts us to competitively impose our own sense of peace on others. Simply longing for righteousness necessarily reveals the empty void that remains unfilled.

I consider these issues today from a hospital room. It is one into which I worked very hard to be admitted, even though I am not the patient. The patient and I were nearly barred from it, due to circumstances entirely beyond our control. The reason this applies to our consideration of blessedness, happiness, and The Beatitudes, is that our present location, where my wife is recovering from knee-replacement surgery, is a direct result of taking control of the circumstances. Here is the briefest of explanations.

Over the past eighteen months of watching my wife struggle with the damage and painfully deteriorating effects of a pair of falls, relief has been repeatedly delayed by a variety of factors. Finally, though, the requirements of insurers, employers, and the medical community seemed to have been met. Yesterday, surgery was supposed to be just a couple of hours away. Unfortunately, when the surgical staff began to review the records provided, there were some unanswered questions. Without going into detail, suffice to say that some of the information provided was for the wrong patient, some was simply unreadable due to the grainy quality of the faxes sent, and most importantly there was no mention of an ongoing condition that, since it appeared to be a recent development, resulted in the fateful pronouncement, “No, we can’t do surgery today. You should get dressed and go home, and we’ll see what we can do about rescheduling once we resolve what’s going on with this.”

If you read much of what I write, you know that I believe strongly in patient advocacy. That is, I occasionally practice advocacy on behalf of patients, not that I am patient in my advocacy. Again, to shorten the tale, with the surgical staff unable to elicit a response from the clinicians in our community, I called the lab at the hospital in our area and explained in very direct terms (in keeping with Ephesians 4:29) what records they needed to fax to which number. The information arrived within minutes, it provided the information the surgeon and hospitalist needed, and all this resulted in my wife’s surgery being performed just a few hours later than had been planned.

To misuse Augustine’s categories, I pursued an outcome of which my wife was nearly cheated, during circumstances in which she was emotionally tortured (not least by the multiple errors that compounded the frustrations of previous complications from similar miscommunications), opening questions of just how diseased our system has become despite the interlinked network of electronic medical records that prevent rather than provide greater access and clarity with regard to essential patient information.

More to the point, however, we are happy. Blessed, even. The pain my wife experiences today, and in the coming days, is the pain of recovery, rehabilitation, and physical therapy toward the restoration of abilities she has missed for more than eighteen months. But had the surgery been postponed, or cancelled, or unsuccessful, Jesus says we would still be blessed. And I do believe Him. Even from our narrowly limited perspective, despite our initial feeling of “all this happening for no reason,” we began to see possible reasons, outcomes, and purposes in the tumultuous few hours, and the potential for greater and longer endurance being required.

So, can happiness be pursued? No. Because I did get what my wife and I wanted, yet only after it was nearly yanked away from her. And in the pursuit, I was happy. Why? Well, the better question would be, “How?”

In the midst of all of this, there was the belief that none of this caught God by surprise. He knew where we were. He knew what records needed sent. He knew what the outcome of the day would be. And He had already arranged to have all of it work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). I feel secure in being included in that promise. And that makes me very blessed.

Two Ways To Make Better Emergency Decisions – Part Two: A Refresher on Responsibility

The determinist says, "The dominoes, once started, cannot
help but fall according to their pattern." To which I would
reply, "That's probably true, until the roof caves in."

As I discussed in Part One, there are likely some other areas in which your experience leads you to plan ahead. You’ve likely contemplated in advance the decisions you would make and the actions you would take in the midst of an emergency. You may already have a plan to maintain air, warmth, water, and food for you and yours in case of a natural disaster. Your travel kit for an illness, injury, or death in the family may be already packed and readily accessible. The necessary equipment and supplies for surviving an automotive breakdown in severe weather could already be stored in your vehicle. Some of us are careful, some anxious, and some even paranoid, so we plan for any potential calamity, no matter how remote the possibility. And yet, we will still likely face the need to make an unplanned decision, and take hasty action, in circumstances for which we are utterly unprepared. What do we do then?

Accept Emergency Decisions

I believe it to be essential to think through as many potential emergencies as our imaginations can summon. But it is also impossible to think through every potential emergency, to include every possible detail, and to consider all the complicating contingencies that may mitigate our prior decisions in the midst of some very difficult circumstances. The paradox is this: we need to carefully consider our decisions while we simultaneously prepare to take unhesitating action on those decisions, despite the reality that the actual circumstances will almost never match our prior visualizations

Even when we think we know what each part is going to do,
the opportunities for misadventure are incredibly complex.

Here is the result. We will err. We will fall short. We will over-reach. We will do collateral damage. In our judgment, in our physical ability, in our attitudes, or in any number of other ways, we will fail to respond with fully appropriate measures in the midst of an emergency. We cannot do otherwise. And even if we did perform perfectly, as human persons our nature is to second-guess, to doubt, to wonder, and to shame, whether only ourselves or others as well.

We need to accept that we will face emergencies. We also need to accept the decisions that those emergencies require of us. And further, we need to accept the decisions we make and the actions we take may be ineffective, or too late, or over-reactive, or otherwise excessive. But we also need to accept those decisions and actions as being the best we could muster under the circumstances.

So, we are still likely to face emergencies that require the best possible decision under the worst possible circumstances. Here’s what to do with that.

The Greatest Problem in an Emergency

The greatest problem you or I face, whether in the midst of the emergency or in our careful pre-planned policies and protocols, has two tools at its disposal. The tools are these: “Why?” and “What if?” The problem is “Distraction.”

And yet most of us tried doing it so many different ways.

“Why?” asks us to look to the past. Why did this happen? How did we get into this mess? Who messed up and where am I going to find them when this is all done?

“What if?” points us to the future. What will happen if I make this or that decision? What if I make the right decision and fail to carry it out effectively? What if I do everything right, and it still goes there in a hand-basket? What if everyone decides I’m to blame? Both sets of questions distract us from our present circumstances, our limited options, and our inability to predict the many layers of outcomes that will follow.

The Second Greatest Problem in an Emergency

There is a second problem, though. It’s related to the first and, if we will let it teach us, it provides a solution to both problems. Whether the circumstance we face is a consequence (resulting from the “Whys” of the past) or whether it will result in consequences (leading to the “What Ifs” of the future), we often assume that we are somehow responsible for results and consequences, when we are merely responsible for the best possible decisions and actions of the moment, under the circumstances as best we can determine them at the time.

Even the right thing can have unioreseen consequences.
Do the right thing anyway.

For those of us who claim to be followers of Jesus Christ, the question we should ask moment-by-moment and day-by-day is “What would Jesus have me do?” The answers to that question are not complicated—until we human persons complicate them, of course. But in an emergency, there is no time for backtracking, for studying a little harder in some class, or reading a passage of scripture more carefully. There is only who we are, what we have been given, and how we need to respond—which is: only the best we can. My belief in God’s work through Christ in my life by the Holy Spirit means I can rest in the moment, even the emergency, because of who He is making me to be—which governs what I know I am to do. “I am responsible for obedience. God is on the hook for the results and consequences.” (Even, I would add, the results and consequences that led to the circumstances I’m facing in the emergency.)

But that belief rests on one other underlying factor. Here it is.

God Never Faces an Emergency

Nothing ever catches God by surprise. Nothing He allows into your life has slipped past Him unnoticed. He has created you, redeemed you, filled you, shaped you, and led you to be His workmanship (the piece He shows off as evidence of His expert craftsmanship—Ephesians 2:10), to do His will, and to speak His word.

When you find yourself in an emergency, remember that the emergency didn’t find you by accident. And remember, too, that you didn’t find the emergency by accident, either. It’s not just that the circumstances enter your life for a purpose. God built you to enter these circumstances for a purpose. Just be who you are, and do what you do. Let God take care of the results and the consequences.

Toward Taking “Roast Pastor” off of the Sunday Lunch Menu – or at least shutting down the poisonous fountain of anonymous criticisms

This is a roast "al pastor." No actual pastors 
were harmed in the making of this blog post.

What’s on the menu? Well, if it’s a Sabbath afternoon (I was going to say “Sunday,” but I’m assuming that my Seventh-Day Adventist friends engage in the same behaviors.), you can safely bet that at least a handful or two in any given community (if not every congregation every Sabbath) are having “roast pastor” for lunch. Rarely, though, does this occur if the pastor is actually at the table, of course. And some don’t choose to air their concerns, questions, or comments so publicly. Not that they always bring their criticisms directly to the pastor’s office. No, as Thom Rainer has discussed (You can find his post here: http://thomrainer.com/2014/12/17/one-sentence-pastors-church-staff-hate-hear/.), most will hide behind the seven deadliest words you can fire at a pastor, “I thought you should know, someone said….” The sentence has other forms. But whatever words are used, they can sentence the pastor to agonizing over every detail of every sermon, each encounter, all the missed connections, and an unlimited imagination of unmet expectations, any one of which can lead a pastor to distraction, discouragement, and despair. Or they can lead to a pastor reacting bitterly, withdrawing emotionally, and/or writing yet another “Monday-morning resignation letter.”

This office says "Yes, I've spent tens of thousands on my education, 
but please, do share your thoughts about my eschatological errors."

(Note to pastors: if you get in the regular habit of writing and deleting “Monday-morning resignation letters,” you’re probably moving past any therapeutic value to be found in the exercise. In fact, you’re probably starting to more fully contemplate sending out your resume. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t. But when you reach the point where it’s a frequent practice, don’t pretend that “come Tuesday, it’ll be alright.”)

Again, though, as Rainer points out, it doesn’t have to be this way. He explores the reasons and suggests a way to shut down such behavior. In my experience, though, his approach may simply bottle up the criticism by refusing to hear it. As with other home-made fermentation projects, sometimes that results in a more mature vintage, and sometimes it results in an explosion. I would advocate a slightly different approach that I believe more fully addresses the pastoral responsibility to those who feel compelled to share “someone’s” critique of the pastor, or of any other victim.

This one? "The pastor will be right back, just as soon as 
he's done meeting with the Joint Chiefs of Ministry Staff."

(“Victim? Really, Pastor? Isn’t that overstating it?” Please understand. I see this behavior, however well-intentioned, and however accurate the criticisms may be, as gossip. And I see gossip as sin. It is sin against God, but also against whomever you make the target of your gossip. If you read on, I think my reasons will be clear for holding this rare and extreme position—that sin is a bad thing. So don’t stop when you get to the part where you get offended and want to come tell me, “Pastor, some people read your blog, and they’re saying….”)

From my first year in my first pastorate, I have taken a wise mentor’s advice and “gone straight at the problem.” After a couple of months there, serving a congregation consisting of (in the words of the denomination’s district staff) the dozen or so who’d “spent the past twenty years running the other two hundred off,” I proposed to the board that we purchase a church van. “It has to have eleven seats, though,” I told them. “Because the next time one of you comes to me and says, ‘Well, I heard that…’ or ‘Someone was saying…’ that person gets to ride shotgun, and we’re going to drive to whomever it was that shared the gossip with them. Assuming that person was passing along something they’d heard from someone else, we’ll load them up and keep heading upstream against the flow of poison. There’s only twelve of us in this church, so when the eleven of us arrive at the last doorstep, I’ll know that someone knows who said what.”

"Welcome. Come on in...but first, you might want to 
tie some pomegranates to your pants cuffs."

In a pastor’s busy schedule, it can be hard to imagine that there’s time for this much attention to the negativity. But the damage can be immense. Rainer explains its effects so well that I won’t repeat it all here. You’ve got the link to his blog above. But the result, for him, was that “I got to the point where I did not entertain such veiled criticisms. I tried to be polite and say, ‘I am sorry, but I cannot listen to you further because you will not give me the specific sources of the concerns.’” Rainer’s approach is sound advice from a psychological pain-management perspective. It also fits the practice of efficient “pastoral administration.” But that last phrase is in quotes because I don’t believe it’s a real thing. The term is an oxymoron—a statement that contradicts itself (like “hot water heater,” or being “clearly misunderstood,” which occurs between my wife and me sometimes when we are “alone together”). There are administrative duties to be fulfilled in the function of any congregation of believers. But it is “prayer and the ministry of the word” (Acts 6:4 – and the functions of Ephesians 4:11ff and elsewhere) that should be the substance of anything we call pastoral ministry.

I'd love this furniture in my office, but I can't afford 
the brandy and cigars to go with it.

So how do I prayerfully apply the Word to those claiming to represent an anonymous coalition of critics?

Several scriptures explain our mutual responsibility for one another in the body of Christ. As I see it, if you don’t choose to address what you see as my errors, then you can’t legitimately claim to love me. Sending someone else (or pretending that you represent someone else) doesn’t make your actions any more loving, or any less sinful.

Here’s two passages in particular that come to mind, about your responsibility to me as a fellow-Christian.

If anyone sees his brother committing a sin not leading to death, he shall ask and God will for him give life to those who commit sin not leading to death. There is a sin leading to death; I do not say that he should make request for this. (I John 5:16, NASB)

My brethren, if any among you strays from the truth and one turns him back, let him know that he who turns a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins. (James 5:19-20, NASB)

The most detailed approach, though, come directly from the lips of Jesus. I refer to it as “The Matthew 18 Protocol” as a shorthand for “Don’t be coming in here with that ‘somebody said’ nonsense.”

“If your brother sins, go and show him his fault in private; if he listens to you, you have won your brother. But if he does not listen to you….” (Matthew 18:15-18, NASB)

"Why, yes, our pastor DID talk about Matthew 18...
right before he left."

There are further instructions there, of course. But it all starts with obedience to the command of Christ. We are called to pursue that first step toward being clear on what the criticism is, while honoring the relationship Jesus assumes will be not only maintained, but deepened. At some point in the first three stages, Jesus offer hope of reconciling the parties. The fourth only applies when the object of the criticism is entirely recalcitrant. (Assuming, of course that the criticism is found to be valid. Be sure to look at the passage Jesus is quoting. Deuteronomy 19:15-21 addresses the possibility of inaccurate criticisms and false accusations as well.)

What does this look like in the actual practice of pastoral ministry? If someone cares enough to bring their concerns (whoever’s concerns they may claim them to be) to the pastor, then I assume they care enough to want to handle matters in a Biblical manner. So, when they’ve explained what others have passed along to them, I ask some form of this question:  

“So, before we go to meet with them, how did it go when you confronted them about their gossiping? How far into the Matthew 18 Protocol are we?”

///

So, now you have read my blog. And you may want to tell me what “someone” thinks about it. I’d appreciate it, though, if you’d be kind and loving enough to identify yourself in your comments, so that we can work together on resolving any conflicts and maintaining, even deepening, our relationship. Thanks in advance for your example of obedience to Christ.

Diplomacy Made Easy – But, “You’re Gonna Need a Bigger Boat”

It's never too soon to get that bigger boat.

I am a bully. It has been almost half a century since I was beating up fellow-first-graders at the bus stop each morning. But I am still a bully.

Of course, like all bullies, I don’t bully everyone all the time. There’s plenty of room for bystanders. I don’t mind a few sycophantic followers who smile and nod in agreement, even if they have no idea what the fight is about. And you’re unlikely to get into my crosshairs, unless you disagree. Even then, you may not identify what was done to you as bullying. Even if you have the slightest hint, you wouldn’t dare say so. Not because I would bully you even more (though that’s a possibility). You wouldn’t speak up because most of the bystanders, and certainly the sycophants, would tell you “That’s not bullying.”

You see, my skills fall into categories which most don’t readily recognize as bullying behaviors. I usually don’t have to apply more than a small portion of my excessive education, esoteric vocabulary, and/or labyrinthine logic in order to overwhelm you. The result, though, is rarely agreement, and almost never any kind of collaboration that would deepen our relationship. You don’t have to admit I’m right for me to win. As with many competitive enterprises, I don’t have to convince you. There’s no need to force a concession of my argument’s superiority. Most of the time, I just have to keep talking until those who disagree decide “enough is enough,” and quit the argument.

This Historical Policy

I’m unlikely to stop being a bully. Even among those whose neurons store far less information, or whose synapses fire less quickly, there is ample evidence in favor of successfully bullying others. And I can hardly be expected to withstand the peer pressure. Most of those in my faith tradition can’t bring bigger brains to the table. But we do have the greater numbers and social influence that comes with being the dominant majority. And even where we have atrophied any thought processes we may once have had, there are still a handful of leaders who are more than willing to do our thinking for us. In fact, I aspire to be one of them. I think I’ll probably succeed at it. Do you dare disagree?

The Contemporary Practice

It’s not just the ballot box where my tribe’s greater resources are brought to bear. Public demonstrations, fundraising, broadcast and publishing media outlets, and some of the more vehement social media positions all rely on nothing more than the sheer numbers who are willing to agree…rather than find themselves bullied by the majority.

In world politics, those with greater economies, larger populations, and/or more advanced technologies get to enforce their will over others, even while pretending to invite collaboration, to offer an opportunity for agreement, or simply to demand acquiescence—or else. The practice used to involve literally parking a fleet of the dominant nation’s warships off the coast of those to be bullied into submission. Air superiority was the preference for awhile, and now we can cripple most others through economic sanctions and/or selective assassination. But it’s still rightly called “Gunboat Diplomacy.”

"I'm sorry, you'd prefer I do what?"

I like it. And I like it, not just because my brain works well enough that my bullying doesn’t involve actual threats of violence. I like the idea of Gunboat Diplomacy because I know some bullies who seem unlikely to stop their bullying unless another bully brings their bigger boat between them and the targets of their bullying behaviors. Three in particular come to mind.

One of them is the wife-beating rapist who wants the courts to amend his child custody arrangements. That’s unlikely to happen. His work schedule would frequently put the children under the care of the matriarch whose incestuous household has bred narcissistic entitlement into each of the males I’ve met. My wife and I have met two of the females, too—both victimized by their own brothers. Still, my friend’s ex-husband has the means to pursue his day in court, to prolong the process indefinitely, and to hope that in the absence of alimony and other support payments he’s forestalling, she will run out of money, lose her lawyer, and simply have to give up. It might work. Unless someone has a better idea.

Sometimes you're not so worried about the "concealed" part.

Another I’d like to bully is the drug-dealer who was recently released. One of his convictions was for having beaten his domestic partner…again. The last straw was when he finally beat her in front of her offspring. He’s out, but she has a restraining order. There are also protective orders as a result of the criminal case. Yet somehow probation approved his new place of residence. It’s true that among the consequences of battering your domestic partner is the need to change your place of residence. But he could not have gone back to “her place,” because it wasn’t her place any more. Because she had allowed him to beat her, she was evicted by her landlord. She couch-surfed until a few weeks ago when she finally got into an apartment again. Why is all this important? Because the address her abuser gave his probation officer as his new residence—yes, he gave them her new address. How he got it? Why no one checked it? What she’s supposed to do to protect herself? No one seems to know. But I have an idea.

It’s the same idea that comes to mind whenever I face the reality of the next few months of negotiations and interviews with probation officers and therapists over the release of a convicted child-pornography trafficker. If the most recent two prior releases are any indicator, he will request permission to attend services, and there will be hours of paperwork and phone calls back and forth on the conditions, stipulations, restrictions, and supervision necessary to accommodate his rights in this area. I believe in hope. But I also believe in recidivism. I believe in redemptive purposes. And I believe that a little bullying might be just what’s necessary to prevent a sixth conviction. I do justify my frustrations, however, along with the difficulty of summoning any willingness to help facilitate his return to fellowship. How do I justify anything less than providing the greatest possible assistance to him? By remembering that preparations and follow-up on the previous two releases that were on my watch (of the four, total, so far) took more days to complete than the number of days he was actually free…before reoffending and returning to yet another imprisonment. Is there any reason to go through all that again? Well, not if someone has  a better idea.

Here’s the better idea I allow myself to imagine: I want to use my bigger boat to enforce my will on the perpetrators in each of these situations. I can think of several effective ways I could persuade then to make some accommodation of my position. Those victimized by these predators would greatly appreciate it, I know. In a community known for outrageously long response-times and malignant inattention to any needs so far from the county seat…well, if no one will dissuade them who’s to dissuade me?

...at your own risk.

So, why don’t I simply bully these bullies into finding someone else to bully?

Here’s why: for Gunboat Diplomacy to work, you have to be sure you have the biggest boat. And I never will. Neither will you. There’s only One who guarantees that His boat is biggest and best, and it utterly blows out of the water all the rest of my petty fantasies about threats, intervention, retribution, vengeance or other more violent means of correction. (I admit, though, the phrase from my training many years ago keeps echoing: “Continue firing until the threat is eliminated.” My gunsmith tells me that the law in California, even if I were still serving with law enforcement, requires something a little different. But I’ll bet it’s still true that “personal safety trumps department policy.”)

So, am I saying that we should allow matters to take their course in hopes that God will protect the victims and smite the miscreants? No. I’m saying that I’m a miscreant. So are you. And before we start loading up, cocked and locked, looking for the justification to end any one of these conflicts, we might want to look to the true nature of the conflict. It’s sin. And sin has never overcome sin. I can’t stop their sin by committing my own. Even if my aim were as true as it used to be, their sin would survive them, having been adopted and furthered by me—the one who claims to hate the damage they’re doing by their sin, so much so that I might sin in order to stop it?.

The real solution is not so satisfying a fantasy. It is not so gratifying a pursuit. It is not as directly effective as a magazine or two of .45 ACP would be. But the real solution happens to be the biggest boat we’ve got. There’s probably a children’s church song to be written about this…except for the handgun part, of course. “Jesus has a big, big boat, and He’s loaded it with love.”

And so I will seek an answer to the question “What would Jesus have me do?” I will continue to love, provide for, and—only when absolutely necessary—protect those victimized by others like me. And I will admit that the same traits I see in these criminals make it easier for me to love them, whenever I admit that they are very much “neighbors” to be loved because they are so very much “like myself.”