HOLDING YOUR GROUND - Christianity Today

The young woman sitting across from me in the living room of her home looked angry and hurt. “What do you mean you’re not going to baptize my baby?”

I wanted to say, “Look, I don’t even know you. Only on rare occasions have you come to worship in all my years in this community. If you want your baby baptized, then show me some evidence of your Christian faith!” But I felt uncomfortable and awkward, so I kept things “pastoral.”

“No, Linda,” I said, “I will be glad to baptize Michael, but first I would like to ask you to come and worship with us for a while. Come and get involved; participate in some way in the life of the church. Then we can discuss the arrangements for baptism.”

“Don’t you think people can be good Christians without going to church?” Linda asked a bit defensively.

“That may be, but I don’t feel I’m in a position to make a judgment on that. What I do need is evidence, signs of faith that show me you will fulfill the baptismal vows you would take. At the baptism you will be asked to confess your faith in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, live a life that is consistent with Christ’s teachings, teach Michael the Bible, and demonstrate to him the importance of the private and public worship of God. You’re making a commitment to raise Michael in such a way that someday he will make a decision for God and Christ, and thus confirm the baptismal vows you have taken.”

Linda held 6-month-old Michael in her arms. The baby looked so sweet and innocent. Why are you being so hard nosed about this? I asked myself. Linda is upset, and you’re looking like the bad guy. But another part of me said, Stick to your guns! You know what is right. Don’t give in.

“Pastor, it’s so hard for Jim and me to get going on Sunday mornings. He works late on Saturday nights, and it seems to take forever to get Michael fed and dressed.”

I wanted to shout at her, “Linda, it’s hard for everybody, but if it’s important to you, then you make the effort. We have many young families in our church that make great sacrifices to be in Sunday school and worship on a regular basis.” Coward that I am, I answered, “I know it is tough, but I really need you and Jim to show me that you are sincere about being Christians and that you will take your baptismal vows seriously.”

Linda looked as if she were going to cry. I asked if she would like a word of prayer before I left. She nodded. I prayed for Linda, Jim, and baby Michael, and asked God to bless their home and family. As I left the house, obviously Linda was not very happy with me. I felt lousy the rest of the day.

I didn’t hear anything more from Linda until a member of the congregation, Shirley Townsend, stopped by my office one day. “John, I need to talk to you about Linda. I was visiting with Mrs. Clark, and she told me you refused to baptize Linda’s baby. Is this true?”

My insecurity level rose. I began to explain to Shirley the need for Linda to demonstrate her Christian faith.

“But John, you won’t baptize that sweet, little baby? That’s cruel. Why not baptize Michael just to keep everyone happy? It might encourage Linda and Jim to someday join the church if you did them this favor.”

My stomach churned at Shirley’s suggestion that I was being cruel. I tried to explain. “As God’s people, we’re called to serve and follow Christ whatever the cost. If baptism is going to mean something, the parents have to teach their child about these responsibilities. Frankly, I have my doubts about Linda and Jim’s faith as Christians due to their lack of visible commitment. I don’t believe they’d fulfill their baptismal vows at this time. That means in baptizing Michael I would be performing a charade to please the parents.”

“John, you’re sounding so judgmental.”

I broke out in a sweat. I’m not supposed to sound like that, I thought. But I took a deep breath. “Shirley, sometimes we have to take a stand. It’s my responsibility to maintain the integrity of baptism. I need some evidence of faith from Jim and Linda to show me they are going to follow through on the promises they’d be making to God. If they refuse to demonstrate their commitment, then I can’t baptize Michael.”

“It really doesn’t matter,” Shirley sighed as she prepared to leave my office.

“What do you mean?”

“Linda knew you’d be stubborn about this, so she called Reverend Tupper, who came right over and baptized Michael. He was very cooperative. Good-by, John. I hope you realize how angry Linda and her family are at you. They’re a family that someday might have joined the church. Linda’s mother has been a good friend of mine for years, and I want you to know she doesn’t think very highly of you right now, either.”

I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach.

Tightrope Walking

I don’t like being the bad guy. Saying no is hard for me. The pastoral role is supposed to be sensitive and loving. I also want people to like me.

But doing what the gospel requires is not always the same as doing what our congregations require. I don’t want my flock mad at me, but sometimes I have to take a stand. My integrity is on the line.

Not all my colleagues in ministry have to wrestle with requests to baptize infants, but every one I know struggles with similar situations. Pastors are forever walking a tightrope: We want to do what we believe is right; we also want to keep our congregations happy.

How do you deal with, for example, the young couple who want to be married in your church, but a Christian wedding is the last thing on their minds? You asked them in the premarital counseling, “Why do you desire a church wedding?”

“I have always wanted to be married in your sanctuary,” the bride answered, “because of the extra-long center aisle.” As far as they are concerned, you hire a caterer, rent a reception hall, and book a church. The preacher gets thrown in with the deal.

You tell them it looks as though a Christian wedding has little meaning to them and perhaps they ought to think about a civil ceremony. The bride cries, and later her father angrily comes to your office and tells you how unchristian you are acting. He points out what a poor example of a minister you are. (Why are these sorts always experts on pastoral roles?)

And I have a problem being asked to say the invocation at the county’s new sewage-disposal plant. “Lord, bless this refuse and all who work therein”? But my people tell me the exposure I am getting is good for the church.

I feel the conflict when asked to do the funeral for one of the town scoundrels. Should a Christian burial be performed for someone I am pretty sure wasn’t a Christian? What am I to do? I am always hearing people say to me, “Come on, John; be a good guy. What’s it going to hurt?”

What hurts is acting as if my principles as a minister of the gospel don’t matter. What hurts is when folks don’t understand that I am not saying no to be stubborn. I am saying no because what they want me to do is not right.

Taut-Line Strategies

When you’re up on a tightrope, you forget about graceful moves; you simply want to keep your balance. I’ve learned a few principles that have kept me a little more sure-footed.

Accept that conflict comes with ministry. If you are performing your ministry conscientiously, there will be conflict. Pastors are challenged daily to maintain their integrity while dealing with the demands of their congregations. Following the gospel may well please God, but making our people happy brings much more immediate rewards. Upsetting them, on the other hand, scares the daylights out of us.

In addition to the external conflict, there is plenty of internal conflict. I would like to think that what I do is for God and no one else. The reality is I am always conscious of the feelings and responses of my parish. Sometimes I am brave and faithful; other times I am not. Most of my parishioners are not even aware of the difficulty I go through in formulating responses.

But knowing that conflict is part of faithful ministry somehow helps me handle it better.

Pick your battles carefully. Some clergy seem to enjoy trouble. No issue is small; everything is a theological watershed. They are always involved in some sort of controversy. When you sit with them, sipping a cup of coffee, they describe their flocks as intransigent and selfish. They claim they cannot give in at the cost of losing their integrity, as if Christendom would collapse if the choir met on Tuesday instead of Thursday.

On the other side are clergy who are so afraid of provoking their congregations that they cave in to nearly every demand. But what kind of life is that? Sure we want our congregations to love us, but at what cost?

I’m working to find a middle ground. I’m willing to let my people win on the negotiable issues. As a pastor, I have only so much power through the prestige of the office. I don’t want to waste it fighting over the color of carpeting in the toddler room.

By doing this, when a major concern in the life of the church arises, I can hold my ground. The key is knowing when my integrity, not my pride, is being threatened.

Realize you will never please some people. Failing to do our job as ministers in order to keep a family happy is not worth it. Besides, we can never keep some people happy. They will just demand more if they know we’re willing to give in.

I still grind my teeth over a wedding situation a few years back. My parish had a rule that during the service no photographs were to be taken. The wedding ceremony is a holy time, and in worship the flashing of bulbs and moving of photographers is not only distracting but disrespectful. During premarital counseling sessions with the couple, I shared with them the no-pictures rule, and they said fine.

The day of the wedding rehearsal, I got a call from the mother of the bride. “John, what is this about no pictures during the ceremony?”

“That’s right, Helen.” I went on to explain the reasoning behind the rule. I silently prayed she would understand.

“I don’t understand. We want a picture of Grandma kissing Susan right after the giving of the bride. Grandma’s health is failing, and it’s important to the family that we get a picture.”

I told her they could pose the picture before or after the service, but during the service the church rules say no pictures.

That wasn’t good enough. She gave me a half-hour lecture on all her family had done for the church, Grandma’s personal health history, and how my predecessor gladly would have responded to their needs. I finally was able to say good-by and hang up the phone.

I moped around the house for the rest of the day. I said to my wife, “You know, it is such a little thing they’re asking for, and Grandma hasn’t looked very good in church the last few weeks.”

“John, Grandma is probably healthier than we are. It’s a good rule, and you need to stick to it. You’re just upset because you can’t stand to have someone mad at you.”

I fled from my wife’s wisdom. I dreaded going to the rehearsal that evening. At the rehearsal everyone was cordial but cool. The family waited until the end of the practice to gang up on me: “Have you reconsidered our request?” I told them I would think about it overnight.

Bright and early the phone rang. It was Helen. “Well, can Grandma have her picture taken?”

“Gosh, Helen, I still don’t feel right about it.” What I wanted to do was scream at the top of my lungs, “Get off my back! A rule is a rule, and you have to follow it just like anyone else.”

The rest of the morning I stewed about the whole thing. I went around slamming doors and saying to myself, It is such a little thing they are asking for.

Finally I gave in. As I dialed Helen’s number, I’m sure I subconsciously thought, Oh, good. Now Helen is going to like me again. When she answered the telephone I said, “Call me an old softy, but go ahead and have Grandma’s picture taken.”

Helen’s response was far from friendly. “Fine, John. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

I sat there stunned. What a mistake I’d made! Helen was still angry at me, and now I was angry at myself for selling out.

That incident taught me the difficult lesson that if you think an issue is important, stand your ground, because giving in won’t fully satisfy many people anyway.

Rely on institutional power and support. It is nice to have the backing of the bishop, presbytery, or district superintendent. Unfortunately, that kind of power is often too distant and out of sight. The best means of support is local power. The administrative board, parish council, or session is a force the congregation knows and understands.

In the situation with Linda and Jim, I went to my pastor-parish relations committee with my concerns over baptism. I talked about the meaning of baptism and the responsibilities involved. After my presentation, I asked for their comments and questions. The chairperson spoke up, “Pastor, I’m behind you all the way. If folks want to be baptized in our congregation, they need to show they mean it!” The rest of the committee agreed, and I didn’t feel quite so alone anymore. Until then I had felt like a western sheriff defending the town by himself.

Be honest. When I get caught in the middle of an issue, I think the best response is to be honest and let everyone know just where I stand. In one church personality conflict, I understood the issues on both sides. Each party had valid concerns. What troubled me was that I didn’t want them to think that when I talked to one group I was on its side and when I talked to the other group I was for it.

One evening I received an angry phone call from one of the people involved. I listened patiently and tried to present both sides of the issue.

Finally, in frustration, I told him, “I’m concerned about my integrity, because I’ve been in the middle on this. I don’t want anyone to think that when I talk to you I’m on your side, and when I talk to the others I’m for them. I understand both sides, and I am willing to be involved and help sort things out. But I don’t want anyone to think I’m playing both sides against the middle.”

From there my position in the controversy was understood, and we began to work toward settling the problem.

Find a person with whom you can talk through your feelings. When my integrity is threatened, I feel angry-angry if I give in when I know I shouldn’t, angry that I have to put up with this kind of nonsense, angry that in doing what I believe is right someone is mad at me, angry because I feel helpless and frustrated.

From there I get depressed. If I don’t watch myself, I become cynical and negative, and the rest of my ministry suffers. I need someone to talk to!

I can go to my wife, who is always there to help and support me. I can also speak formally or informally with a colleague or a group of colleagues. I let them support me, realizing that sooner or later it will be my turn to support them.

Pray. During such struggles it is easy to get sidetracked and think only of myself. Often I feel like an Old Testament prophet: I am trying to do what God wants and getting stones thrown at me for the effort. What is going on, God? So I take my fears, concerns, and anger to God in prayer. I try to let go of my anger. I pray for the strength to stand my ground and do what I feel is right.

During prayer I am reminded that I am a child of God who deserves respect and dignity, as anyone else does. My worth comes from God’s love and not from the approval of some irate parishioner.

An Anything-Goes Society

I’ll be honest: It’s hard for pastors to uphold standards in our anything-goes society. But maybe that’s partly what we get paid for. Taking the heat goes with the territory.

I still wrestle with my desire to be liked and at the same time to be faithful to what I believe God wants me to do. I feel the tension. Probably I always will. But I am gradually learning a key pastoral lesson: Having people like me is not nearly as important as having God like me.

John Wetherwax is pastor of Churchill Memorial United Methodist Church in Boston, New York.