I have come to recognize an important form that denial often takes in my life, perhaps in yours as well: the denial that people I disagree with have anything to teach me.
In 2001, the 213th General Assembly created a Theological Task Force to wrestle with the issues that are uniting and dividing us as Presbyterians. They were praying that with the help of the Holy Spirit we might lead the church in discernment of our Christian identity and of ways that our church might move forward, furthering its peace, unity, and purity. For this task, three former moderators collared 20 Presbyterians as different from one another as they could possibly be — 20 Presbyterians who under ordinary circumstances would never dream of hanging out together!
So much of the diversity within our church is reflected on our Task Force that when he first met with us, Stated Clerk Cliff Kirkpatrick told us his office had received no complaints about the make-up of the Task Force, but that the question he had been asked repeatedly is “How will they ever get along?”
Most of us were thinking the same thing when we first got together. I, for one, was not at all sure I wanted to be drafted. But friends and comrades in the pitched battles in which we find ourselves engaged wrote me, called me and encouraged me to take it on, to get in there and “speak the truth.” So I put on the whole armor of God and flew to Dallas, ready to knock heads and speak the truth. This was going to be my opportunity to set some very misguided folk straight.
It may not surprise you to learn that Task Force members have continued to receive a lot of mail these last few years, representing the entire spectrum of opinion in our church — much of it exhorting us to “speak the truth” — a lot of that exhortation accompanied by biblical quotation and commentary and threats of hell and eternal damnation. Indeed, one of the most important things I have learned from this experience is that we’ve all been so busy speaking the truth to each other in the PC(USA) that nobody is listening. We aren’t actually having a conversation! We’ve all got truth by the shorthairs and everyone else is in denial, so we have to set them straight. And I have come to recognize an important form that denial often takes in my life, perhaps in yours as well: the denial that people I disagree with have anything to teach me.
It has been a hard lesson to learn, but one for which I am grateful and for which I have 20 diverse Presbyterians to thank — people with whom, as it turns out, I have more in common than I had imagined. Every one of us entered our journey together with trepidation, not at all sure it would be a joyful part of our service to the church. But it has turned out to be the most powerful experience of the Holy Spirit I have ever had, as a genuine sense of community has formed among this very diverse group — as we’ve worshipped together, studied the Bible together, prayed together, and worked very hard together.
An important part of that hard work has been learning how to lower the decibel level, to speak our truths with love and respect, but also to listen to each other and engage in genuine conversation, really trying to hear and understand another point of view. We discovered along the way that those we disagree with may actually have something to teach us. We discovered also that we can no longer demonize each other, for our caricatures of each other turn out to be inaccurate and we are bound to each other in our baptisms as brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ. Moreover, our discussions as a Task Force were permeated by a growing, shared conviction, articulated in our interim report: that we cannot achieve peace, unity and purity on our own. We can only be held together because they all reside in Jesus Christ, and that perhaps our job and the church’s job is to appropriate what God has already done for us in Jesus Christ — to live into the fullness of that gift.
I am now convinced that our denominational struggle — our family struggle to live into the fullness of that gift — is integral to our ministry and mission in this world. It is not a diversion from that vocation, as some would claim, but integral to it. After all, on the night before he died, Jesus prayed that we might “all be one”: “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me” (John 17:20-21.)
Thus I take issue with those who claim that our internal conflict is diverting us from the real work of ministry — from far more important mission in the world in which we ought to be engaged, for surely the quality of our life together is integral to that larger vocation. The church, after all, is part of God’s project of repair in the world — a sign in this world that Jesus Christ can accomplish what nothing else can: bringing people together who normally would not be together. As one of the more articulate members of our Task Force has said to us repeatedly: “It is our mission to show the world that the gospel makes some kind of difference — that if you’ve got it, you don’t need to kill each other over differences.” It seems to me that is an important witness to make, crucial to our vocation in a world of increasing polarization and violence. Indeed, our proclamation is hardly credible without it.
Whenever our family squabbles are lamented as a distraction from the real work of ministry, I cannot help but recall a famous cartoon that appeared in the 1960’s in which a clearly disgruntled parishioner greets the preacher at the church door after Sunday services with these words: “Frankly, pastor, don’t you think it is time to get off this civil rights kick and get back to the fundamental teachings of Christianity?”
It is a complaint that surfaces repeatedly in the life of the church. Can we not get off the civil rights kick, the women’s right kick, or the gay rights kick and get back to the fundamental teachings of Christianity? The real work of ministry? It is an important historical moment of discernment in the life of our church, and clearly we are not all agreed as to the direction in which God is leading. But everyone invested in the debate would agree that there are matters of fundamental importance to the integrity of the gospel at stake, and there may be no doubt that the world is watching as we wrestle, painfully, with our discernment of what God is calling us to be and do in our time and place. Surely it is one of the most visible moments of public witness we have had in a long time — an opportunity to bear witness to a gospel that does make a difference in how we deal with those with whom we disagree.
Last spring Martin Marty of the University of Chicago, an astute observer of the American religious scene, was asked the question: “So how should our denominations deal with their conflicts over sexuality?” I was interested in his reply: “Well first, we need to stop voting on all of these issues, and rid ourselves of the fiction that majority rule in a 55-45 split reflects the will of God. And then we need to start practicing a new kind of polity, one rooted in conversation and hospitality.” I think he is right about that, and my hope for the church is that it will receive the Task Force’s report and recommendations as a means to that end, a call to Christian maturity and forbearance, and a modest step in the direction of greater faithfulness.
Frances Taylor Gench is Professor of New Testament at Union-PSCE in Richmond, Va.
