In the concluding sermon for a series on everyday spiritual challenges, Pastor Brooks addressed the issue of conflict. Listen to this sermon now.
Scripture Reading—Matthew 5: 23-26
I want to begin this morning with a story that I am guessing some of you have heard before. It is about a man who was shipwrecked on an island all by himself. He was left stranded on the island for fifteen years until he was finally discovered. During those many years alone on this deserted island, the man occupied himself by building his own village—complete with roads, houses, and buildings. When he was finally found, he gave the rescue crew a tour of the village. He showed them his well-maintained and furnished three-bedroom house, the grocery store where he did his shopping, the bank, and the gym where he worked out. The rescuers were all very impressed, but they noticed a couple of buildings that he had not pointed out, so they asked the man what they were. The man replied, “The one on the left is where I go to church.” The rescuers then inquired, “Well, what’s the one on the right?” To which the man responded, “Oh, that’s where I used to go to church.”
Believe it or not, conflict is a familiar phenomenon in churches. In fact, Paul’s letters to the early Christian churches are generally aimed at addressing conflicts in those churches. I would say it is part of our DNA as Christians, but I think the reality is that it is part of being human. We humans are a diverse bunch, and our constant struggle is how to negotiate and come to terms with the differences among us. Conflict is inevitable, and yet the first instinct for many of us when we hear or see the first signs of conflict is what? We want to run for the hills! We want to avoid it. There can be perfectly good reasons for this. Maybe we grew up in a household in which conflict was destructive. Maybe we have had other negative experiences with conflict in our lives. Whatever the case may be, we often have these deep fears attached to conflict: fear of rejection, fear of anger, fear of being hurt, or fear of hurting someone else. There are lots of reasons why most of us may want to run for the hills, and let’s be honest hardly anyone really enjoys conflict.
Still, sometimes we have to think about the dangers of what happens when we avoid conflict and run from it, because often those responses can lead to more problems: more pain, more devastation, and ironically, more conflict. Think of the spouse who always comes home late because he or she wants to avoid conflict and tension at home. That’s the kind of avoidance that can ultimately pave the way to divorce. Conflict in churches isn’t much different. People can stop attending a church and eventually stop being members because they are avoiding conflict. When people do that, one doesn’t hear the real reason for why they are not coming because that would invite conflict, the very thing that they are trying to avoid.
It is important for churches to learn how to deal effectively with conflict. Imagine if every time one of us got into a conflict we stopped making eye contact with that person whenever we walked into the same room as them. Eventually, all of us would have to start walking around looking at our feet. “Hi Dwight…Hi Doraine…” I am joking, of course, and I also realize how it feels to be so hurt or so wound up about something that it really can be very difficult to look someone in the eye. I have a lot of sympathy for that. Conflict is not easy, and it can be very difficult to deal with emotionally.
Now, self-help books on conflict can tell us about lots of benefits for embracing conflict in a productive way rather than avoiding it. They talk about how it can lead to stronger relationships, increased self-confidence, less anger, less fear, more respect, more peace, a greater sense of personal strength, and so forth. All of that is probably true, but I think churches have a slightly different motivation when it comes to embracing conflict. Think about our scripture for today. Jesus is in the middle of the Sermon on the Mount when he essentially says, “If you are in a conflict with one of the people with whom your worshipping, drop your offering and go mend that relationship. Once you are reconciled, then you can come back and worship.” Jesus was using hyperbole to make a point. Essentially, his point was if you want to get right with God, you first need to get right with others in the body of Christ. Elsewhere in the gospel, this idea is broadened. You need to be right with whoever your neighbor is in order to be right with God. As Christians, we are continually involved in the business of reconciliation, and it is about the hardest business one can be involved in.
I think churches in general today face some significant challenges in this arena. In the past couple of months, I have had almost two identical conversations with pastors at other churches. One of them lives in a different city, and we were talking about various social justice causes, and there is one cause that is especially big in her town now, and as we talked about it, I almost felt envious, and I even said, “Wow, what a great opportunity you have to address that problem.” The tone of our conversation had made me feel certain she would enthusiastically agree, but instead, she said, “Oh, no, I can’t preach on that issue. It’s too controversial.” A month later I had almost the same conversation with another pastor. I had encountered similar attitudes among pastors during my doctoral research, but these two instances kind of made me feel incredibly sad over the trends in some churches today. I sometimes think the greatest sin of many churches today is the failure to talk about things deemed “political”—in other words, things that might generate differences of opinion and conflict. I have this vision of the world almost literally going to go to hell-in-a-hand-basket while people in churches walk around inside going “Shhhh…we can’t talk about that. It’s political.” I’ve been thinking I should write a book called “Hell-in-a-Hand-Basket.”
The truth, however, is that in talking about difficult issues churches reach their greatest potential. That’s how we became an open and affirming church 22 years ago. It’s how congregational churches took a stand against slavery during the abolitionist movement. Today, I believe our greatest potential as churches is reached when we role model for the rest of society how to have conversations on difficult issues and not lose our minds over it. Rather, I should say that we can talk about difficult issues and not lose our hearts over it, because ultimately, we can’t compassionately engage the world if we don’t talk about the issues that lead to harm and suffering. This is why I am really proud of our congregational decision to continue talking about the oil terminal and educating ourselves about it, even though we have differences of opinion. We have the unique opportunity to role model something different in a society that is too often polarized and so often blatantly disrespectful in engaging differences.
When it comes to church conflicts or other conflicts in our lives, there still might be moments when we want to run for the hills, but the metaphor that has helped me comes from Tim Ursiny’s book The Coward’s Guide to Conflict. In this book, he recalls how back in the early 90s it was popular for guys to do these male-bonding retreats where men got together to beat drums and induce tears. Once, he went to a retreat that involved a bunch of sweaty, smelly naked and semi-naked men cramming into a sweat lodge. For those unfamiliar with sweat lodges, it involves a small tepee that has huge, glowing red-hot rocks brought into the center of it before a small amount of water is poured on them. Apparently, for Ursiny, it was a really hot day and various factors made the sweat lodge even hotter than normal. Soon there were men who couldn’t take the heat anymore and had to leave, but Ursiny had come with a buddy and his buddy wasn’t giving him any excuse to leave. Mentally, Ursiny just about went crazy trying to get himself to stay in this heat that just seemed unbearable. Eventually, he did something that might at first strike you as the completely wrong approach to take. Instead of moving away from the glowing rocks, he moved closer to them. In fact, he got as close as he could without letting himself get burned. He even started to make gestures with his hands as if he was inviting the rocks to send him more heat. In one seemingly inexplicable moment, he started to laugh. For the next three hours that he spent in the sweat lodge, he found himself laughing on and off. Instead of allowing his fears of the heat to continue their torment of him, Ursiny embraced his fears.
In a similar way, I think churches at their best learn to embrace conflict rather than run from it. The work of reconciliation allows for nothing less. Reconciliation requires moving closer to the heat, not farther away. It requires having the courage to draw near, not scoot back. In embracing conflict, we can fulfill our high calling. Only through embracing conflict in the pursuit of reconciliation can we all join as one in the body of Christ. In embracing conflict, we might even make a startling discovery. Instead of feeling like the heat is too much, we might even find ourselves laughing. Amen.