We asked our bloggers to share what they have learned about managing conflict in ministry. Here are their reflections.
What should really worry you is if you preach long enough withoutconflict.
In a bitterly-divided, hostile culture, public discourse is brutal. It may be tempting to tiptoe around the truth and envision the congregation like a collection of bobblehead dolls, nodding in agreement to benign clichés and pious platitudes. But I don’t think that a sermon is “liked” in the same way as a Facebook post.
Please understand: I am notsuggesting that a preacher step into the pulpit looking for a fight. Sit with the rest of the congregation under God’s judgment, especially when you step into the pulpit. The Word of God is a double-edged sword: If a sermon never cuts into the hearts and minds of a congregation, perhaps the preacher should consider whether the message is incisive for the one preaching. Robert Frost claimed that if there are no tears for the writer, there are no tears for the reader. And I’d say the same for preaching.
Tears can be holy; tears can also indicate pain. If you preach long enough, you will know when you have stepped on their toes. Maybe you don’t know if it was the content or the topic or even the tone of your voice, but this much is clear: Your sermon angered them. Maybe it’s their curt word at the door afterwards or a look worthy of an essay. Perhaps they avoid you altogether, ducking out the side door and taking the long way to the parking lot.
Actually, it’s best if they wait until Tuesday or Wednesday before coming into your office, still hobbling a bit, but now under control. Invite them to sit. Now, you wait. Never abide personal attacks; you are worthy of respect. But resist the urge to defend your words; after all, they sat through your sermon. It is your turn to listen to theirs; better yet, go gently between their words. You will hear the faint echoes of their pain and fear, which, if you are honest, you’ll recognize because pain and fear are lodged in your heart like jagged shards. Once you do speak, try to name this common experience. This is how they will know they have been heard. Close with a heartfelt prayer of exhausted gratitude and then put off whatever work you can until tomorrow. Go outside and play. And, please, take your vacations! Whenever possible, get your toes in the sand or a cool mountain stream singing with the water of life, a song at once a part of you and bigger than you will ever be.
ANDREW TAYLOR-TROUTMAN is pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church, a congregation in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and has a certificate in narrative healthcare. His recent essays have been published online at Mockingbird and his poetry at Bearings. He and his wife, Ginny, have three children.
