Hard and Holy Conversations

Over the last few months I have participated in some interesting conversations.

• Should national flags be in the church sanctuary — and who gets to decide?
• Is marriage a civil relationship the church blesses, or a sacred covenant of the church that the state chooses to recognize?
• Is it possible for the church to have any reasonable conversation with believers who are homosexual and choosing abstinence?
• What is the role of the church in addressing unjust societal conditions when the congregation disagrees on what constitutes justice?
• Is it a legitimate Kingdom response for the church to provide food and clothing assistance to those who are in a country illegally? What about for those who are citizens, but who have developed a generational lifestyle of reliance on handouts?
• Is it appropriate for Christians to share an opinion concerning what they consider to be the inappropriate actions of the government, knowing there are those in the congregation who have participated in similar activities, and will be highly offended by the words?
• How can the church respond to those whose presentation of the gospel is diametrically opposed to what we believe to be Christian?
• How should the church respond to someone who has violated the congregation's trust?
• Is the drinking or not drinking of alcohol a matter of personal preference, or evidence of Christian holiness, or an issue of creating a loving environment for those who struggle?
• How much should the church speak to such questions of personal behavior?

And the list just keeps going.

I have been involved in these conversations with members of my own congregation, with other pastors in our community, and with friends and colleagues from around the world.

Spurred on by Dan Boone's excellent book, A Charitable Discourse, I have purposely invited folks to gather "around the table" and discuss topics that the church tends to avoid. Some of them are essential for the Christian life, some not so much. But all of them produce strong opinions. As we have had these conversations, here is what I have found.

1. A lot of folks assume that everyone else agrees with them. In fact, as you read the list, you might have thought, "Well, that's obvious. Of course the answer is _____." What do you say to those who don't think the same way you do?
    
2. Quite a few people consider conversation about these and other potentially divisive issues uncomfortable and not worth the trouble. And I certainly understand. After all, we value relationships, and we don't want to hurt feelings. Except, these conversations are important. You see, many of our young people are having these and even harder conversations outside the church. Shouldn't we be able to talk about such things together?
    
3. Pastors are no better at talking about these issues than anyone else. We might even be worse. We tend to be conflict-averse. Often, we feel as though we are supposed to be the experts. We know that when we share our opinions, even when we try to clearly differentiate between our personal perspective and our pastoral conviction, they often are not heard that way.

After reading Boone's book and participating in numerous hard and holy conversations, I am convinced of their importance for the health of the local church and for our denomination.

Gathering around the table to have honest conversations about potentially divisive issues, we are able to live out the essential tension of our Wesleyan theological perspective — via media.

By this we do not mean muddled, sloppy thinking that refuses to define parameters of right belief in the name of pleasant relationships. Rather, we seek doctrinal clarity in an environment that demonstrates holy love and grace. Believing correctly should not be the adversary of loving one another. How we finish conversations, whether we still love one another and value one another's perspective, is as important as the points argued.
 
The ability to have hard and holy conversations begins with a skill that seems to be lacking in our cultural discourse — the ability to listen. It is absolutely essential that we take time to hear one another's stories in order to frame each others opinions within the larger picture of our lives.
 
For example, to use the illustrations stated above, children of alcoholics may have a very different perspective than those who were raised in an environment where alcohol was used but not abused. Those who have several gay friends or family members may have life experiences that dramatically color their take on those issues.

May I sit with you, listen to your story, and take the time to hear you? Can I refuse to place you into the political, religious, and social categories we often use as shorthand to define, minimize, and even demonize one another?
 
It is important that we not gloss over how difficult some of these conversations can be. For some, they are the frontlines of reaching their generation with the gospel, for others they are the issues which indicate a loss of the faith of previous generations.

Recently, in the middle of one such conversation, I read the opinion of an articulate friend whose perspective differed from my own. She didn't change my mind, but she helped me see the value of the conversation. And in that moment, I realized that this was exactly the kind of issue that would have led some people to leave the church just a few years prior. And I thought, "Is this difference worth breaking fellowship? How can I, as pastor, create an environment where we can talk of such things?"

Mike Schutz is one of the pastors of the Avon Grove Church of the Nazarene in West Grove, Pennsylvania. He is married to Esther, a church musician and teacher, and they have two young adult children who have always pushed them to have hard and holy conversations.

Holiness Today, November/December 2013

Please note: This article was originally published in 2013. All facts, figures, and titles were accurate to the best of our knowledge at that time but may have since changed.