I recently attended an outstanding panel discussion with noted biblical scholars, N. T. Wright and Lewis Donelson at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary. Guests were invited to ask questions. One pastor asked: “Dr. Wright, in your opinion, what do you think would concern the Apostle Paul the most about the current state of the church?”
Dr. Wright responded more quickly than I anticipated: “I believe what would concern Paul most is our lack of unity.” My mind drifted to Paul’s words about the church being the Body of Christ, remembering that when one part hurts all parts hurt. Wright said he wished the church would focus more on what we agree on (like mission and evangelism) than on our differences. Wright insinuated that today we simply accept ecclesial division and assume that being “one in the Spirit” is not possible — something Paul might not have accepted as readily. Our church is divided and hurting.
Based on the number of sighs and nodding heads, I sensed agreement that the church has entered a new low of contentious polarization. For example, considering the amount of time, energy, money and other resources the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) has expended discussing, debating and arguing about ordination standards over the last 35 years, my soul hurts. What if we had directed the time, energy and resources to addressing something that we all agree on — like mission? I am not suggesting that such conversations are unnecessary or trite. Rather I am suggesting that we have obsessed over a few select issues to the idolatrous exclusion of others equally or more important and gotten stuck.
As I ponder the current state of the PC(USA), my mind recalls the Johannine resurrection account. Mary’s reply to the two angels about why she is crying sums it up for me: “They have taken away my Lord and I do not know where they have laid him” (John 20:11-13). Our people are crying because faithful believers on either side of the aisle feel like those on the other side have “stolen their Jesus” and “they do not know where they have put him.” Both sides need to be “right”; both make strident and triumphal biblical and theological claims for their particular views; both appear indignant; both aggressively want to “win” both the argument and the polity; both suggest that the Holy Spirit is on their side; both sides express hurt, disillusionment and betrayal. So how do thoughtful Christian people respond to this contentious, polarized state in which we seem endlessly entrenched and embroiled? First, I believe we must acknowledge that “conflict will be with you always. …” So although we cannot eradicate polarization, we can take steps to manage it.
One way that has been personally and professionally helpful to me is to employ Murray Bowen’s concept of “differentiation of self” as a reflective lens for self-examination and action. Bowen began developing his family systems theory while in medical school and in his early days of psychiatric training. His early work focused on working with schizophrenic families and he ultimately concluded that “there is some degree of “craziness” and “schizophrenic splitting in all of us.” Pondering the polarized state of our church, I agree. Bowen’s term, “differentiation of self,” is synonymous with “maturity.” The two are interchangeable. And isn’t more humility and spiritual maturity precisely what our beleaguered denomination needs right now?
Bowen developed a scientific theory based on cellular biology (not psychology) that addresses why human beings behave the way they do. His phrase “differentiation of self” is borrowed from the biological concept of “differentiation of cells” — the process where cells “differentiate” and ultimately become distinct cells, such as brain cells and liver cells that remain connected to the entire organism.
Bowen believed that human beings possess the capacity to “differentiate”— an innate drive and desire to become a distinct, balanced self, sufficiently separate, yet ever connected ideally in healthy relationship to one’s family of origin. Differentiation is what begins the maturation process. If human beings possess this instinctual, God-given capacity to mature, why are we so prone to immaturity, factions, divisiveness, petty splintering, judging, “cutoff,” alienation, aggression and violence? As he studied the process by which cells differentiate and mature, Bowen noted correlations between how cells differentiate and how individuals, families, organizations and institutions function. Several noted authors like Rabbi Edwin Friedman, Peter Steinke, Ronald Richardson, Robert Creech, Trisha Taylor and others have advanced Bowen’s theory by applying it to congregations and churches.
In his book, “Family Therapy in Clinical Practice,” Bowen identifies numerous features of “differentiation of self,” which he calls his “cornerstone concept.” Bowen understood highly “differentiated persons” (i.e., highly mature persons) as minimally possessing specific capacities. Incidentally, without key Reformers having embodied these capacities, there would have been no Reformation. They are:
- The capacity to define one’s basic self clearly;
- The capacity to take a stand;
- The capacity to manage anxiety non-reactively (i.e., to possess “emotional objectivity”) with no counter-attacking;
- The capacity to think rationally rather than respond with emotional reactivity;
- The capacity (or courage) to make decisions based on well-defined principles;
- The capacity to regulate or modify oneself maturely (i.e., be self-focused rather than other-focused, coupled with the capacity to be non-blaming);
- The capacity to maintain healthy, separate boundaries (i.e., boundaries that are neither too porous or too invasive);
- The capacity to maintain healthy, balanced functioning in the system (no prolonged under- or over-functioning);
- The capacity to “de-triangle” (i.e., stay out of the middle of other persons’ emotional space and issues);
- The capacity to develop “person-to-person relationships”;
- The capacity to stay connected or related to all (but especially key) persons in the system.
Bowen’s core constructs of “differentiation of self” are helpful because they offer a template of what the highest levels of human maturity ideally look like and they provide guidance for achieving this kind of maturity. Here’s an example of how it works.
While I was a pastor on Long Island, the local rabbi and I became friends. A woman from my congregation married a man from his. They had a baby and the baby died after three days. The couple asked us both to officiate a joint funeral service. He said a remarkably differentiated thing to me: “I am going to do what I normally do in this funeral service and I expect the same of you. Please do not alter or water down your theology or liturgy because of me.” I experienced true interfaith collaboration at work.
Pondering the various constructs of “differentiation of self,” it is clear that the young rabbi elegantly demonstrated all eleven. He: 1) defined himself clearly; 2) took a stand; 3) was “non-anxious”; 4) demonstrated clear, rational thinking; 5) based his decisions on well-defined principles; 6) focused on his own functioning — not mine; 7) demonstrated healthy personal, professional and religious boundaries; 8) neither over-functioned nor under-functioned; 9) did not get pulled into the anxious “emotional field” of conducting a joint funeral service and stayed out of the middle of the couple’s and our religious differences; 10) remained connected; and 11) maintained a “person-to-person relationship” with me and the couple. Remarkably, he accomplished all this in just two sentences!
As helpful as these constructs are, however, there is a caveat. Depending on the degree of conviction about one’s principles, these constructs can be stretched to their breaking point. Eventually, clearly defining oneself, taking a stand and basing decisions on deeply held principles can rupture the competing interest of “staying connected.”
The book, “Getting To Yes,” offers helpful distinctions between persons’ interests and their positions and offers ways for persons to “re- frame” their differences. I pastored a Presbyterian church a few years ago and a member who was raised Southern Baptist told me that if the ordination standards changed he could not, in good conscience, remain a Presbyterian because it would violate his principles. Because people are generally more open to negotiating their interests than their positions, the goal is to see if people are open to “reframing” their interests.
I asked what he would gain if he left the denomination. “Honoring my principles” (his position), he said. I then asked him to list everything he would lose if he left this congregation (his interests) and get back to me. The ledger was so one-sided that when we talked again he had “re- framed” a way to stay. Staying connected to the congregation he loved ultimately proved to be of more interest to him than taking a stand on his position.
What if we could learn to “reframe” and embrace differences as a gift to be savored rather than a problem to be solved? I suspect it all depends on the degree to which those differences influence our interests and positions. What if we could employ these constructs of differentiation as introspective “lenses” to help us gauge and reflect upon our own levels of thinking, maturity, emotional functioning, interests and positions? What if we could focus on our own functioning — and not on that of others? What might happen if we covenanted to live by these principles? What if we pondered: “OK, I have done a good job at basing my decisions on principle, defining myself and taking a stand; but how am I doing at maintaining relationships with and staying connected to those who disagree with me?” What if we took the time to understand how those who differ from us arrive at their various perspectives instead of lambasting them?
I recently consulted with the leaders of a large Presbyterian congregation that wanted to proactively address theological and political polarization in their midst. (What a concept!) One elder offered a helpful “reframing” question: “What position(s) could other church members hold that would prevent me from sharing communion with them?”
At one of the meetings, the interim pastor, Al Krummenacher, offered a helpful metaphor. He envisioned two teams, a red team and a white team that had to combine into one team. Instead of the new “blended team” becoming the “pink team” and wearing pink jerseys, Al posed the question: “What if the blended team became the candy cane team? What if they were not asked to abdicate their respective distinctiveness, but instead retain it by wearing red and white striped jerseys?” Although this metaphor overly simplifies matters, you get the point. What if we Presbyterians could find a way to celebrate our diversity by having all sides agree not to try to homogenize each other? What if we could become a “candy cane church” — where distinctiveness is honored, respected, valued and celebrated through better “differentiation of self”?
What if we could embrace what systems theory identifies as the delicate balance of “connected- separateness” or “separate-connectedness?” Our Book of Order still refers to this process as “demonstrating mutual forbearance.”
As the disciples gazed into the empty tomb on Easter Day, they initially encountered divine mystery not clarity. As James Loder suggests in “The Transforming Moment,” they encountered “the presence of an absence.” Eventually the answer to “Where did they put him?” became clear when they encountered the Risen Lord face-to-face. He ultimately sent them into the world to love others and spread the gospel. Is our denomination currently known most for loving others and spreading the Good News or are we known most for our declining membership, bickering, dissention, quibbling, enmity, division, “cutoff,” splitting, polarization and lack of unity?
While in seminary, a presbytery executive said to me: “If you cannot entertain the idea that, on any given theological issue you may be wrong, you may want to reconsider getting ordained.” Maybe if we could savor the divine mystery of an empty tomb and embrace the urgency to spread the Gospel as we simultaneously work out our spiritual maturity “with fear and trembling” we could let go of our need to be “right.” Ultimately isn’t Christianity about living lives that mirror the life, death and resurrection of Christ? Maybe savoring divine mystery could help us acknowledge that “we only see through the glass dimly” and find it in our hearts to reach across the aisle and humbly say: “For Christ’s sake, let’s lovingly focus on what we agree on so that the world will know we are His disciples.” Jesus’ prayer in John 17:23 continues to challenge us: “May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you love me.”
