A Christian couple I know recently completed their divorce. It required more than two years of difficult and increasingly bitter negotiation. Although they tried not to, they wound up in court anyway, and neither liked what the judge told them they had to do.
They spent thousands of dollars they couldn’t afford on attorneys’ fees. Their animosity toward each other spilled over into other relationships. Their once-close families have become estranged, and the couple now communicates only by letter. Sadly, both the fact of their divorce and the manner in which they pursued it have seriously eroded their Christian witness, and each party feels resentment and contempt for the other.
Did it have to end this way?
Contrast their story to that of another couple. When I met them, Dave and Sharon had been separated two months. They greatly mistrusted each other as a result of long-term disagreements over money. Dave was used to living on credit, while Sharon paid for everything in cash. During their four years together, this had become such a contentious issue that Sharon had developed stress-related illnesses, which finally caused her to leave. Ten days before they came to me, Sharon had filed for divorce.
Each felt strongly about how their finances should be managed. Sharon was also adamant about preserving her health and unwilling to return to a status quo marriage. Yet, just as clearly, neither wanted to divorce. Both believed, as Christians, that divorce should not be an option.
“Until now,” I pointed out, “it sounds as though you have viewed matters largely as a contest over whose money-management philosophy will prevail.” I suggested they consider a fundamentally different question: How can we use our differences over money to strengthen the marriage we say we want to restore?
Although they originally had come to me to discuss a property settlement for their divorce, we spent the next several weeks thinking creatively about ways they could take seriously each other’s concerns. We worked out an interim financial plan (for up to six months), and I referred them to a financial adviser who could help them devise a long-term solution. They agreed to return to marriage counseling, and Sharon withdrew her petition for divorce.
What’s a Mediator?
The role I played for Sharon and Dave was mediator. Increasingly, people are turning to mediation to bring resolution to a variety of legal and other disputes. The proponents of mediation-and I’m one-point out that it’s generally cheaper, quicker, and less stressful than litigation. And for Christians, mediation also provides unique opportunities to demonstrate what remains the hallmark of our faith-our love for one another.
Simply put, the task of a mediator is to facilitate negotiation. As a mediator, I’m different from an arbitrator or judge. I’m not there to render judgment, which is properly the role of the court or of someone vested with authority to decide. I help people examine issues from a Christian perspective and encourage them to work toward a resolution that is pleasing to God. But, ultimately, the responsibility for deciding what to do is theirs.
Nor, as mediator, can I be an advocate. I have to remain neutral. There are times, however, when I can’t maintain neutrality, especially when the Bible speaks prescriptively about an issue.
For instance, if one party in a breach of contract dispute tells me, “Yes, I broke the contract, but people do it all the time. It’s no big deal,” I become an advocate for the truth. Or if a battered spouse comes to me seeking mediation, I’d probably not be able to provide it. Mediation depends on a level playing field, and the power her husband has over her wouldn’t allow that. I’d likely become her advocate to help her find an attorney and establish her legal rights. In such cases I can’t be a mediator.
But the mediation process can work in a wide range of conflicts. Moreover, it doesn’t require a lawyer’s credentials. Pastors and others in church leadership frequently find themselves in the role of mediator, yet may not know how best to proceed. I’d like to suggest some guidelines I’ve found useful.
The Mediation Process
Clarify the mediator’s role. I need to understand what role I am being asked to assume. I’m frequently asked for advice. Sometimes the questions are direct: “What do you think I should do?” Other times the request is more veiled: “Doesn’t that sound reasonable to you?” or “Tell me, am I being obstinate (or unfair or overcritical or judgmental)?” In those cases, I’m being co-opted to validate someone’s behavior.
I’m happy to provide advice in many situations, but not if I’m also expected to act as a neutral facilitator. Once I give advice, my credibility with the other side is lessened, since I may be perceived as an ally of the person asking assistance.
Once while meeting privately with a man in a divorce dispute, I confronted him about the amount of the property settlement he was willing to offer: “I’d be surprised, based on what I know about judges, if you’d get any court to see things your way.”
The man squinted at me and shot back, “Are you sure you’re not on my wife’s side?”
I had to reestablish our relationship. “Let me remind you of my responsibilities as mediator: to help you take a realistic look at what you’re proposing, to help you and your wife come to resolution. You asked me to help you, and I have significant doubts that your request would ever stand up in court. I’m not being unneutral. I’d suggest you check out your proposition with your attorney. Find out what he thinks.”
If people want me to mediate and also need advice, I refer them, as I did this man, to an attorney, a pastor, or a counselor.
While I remain neutral in regard to persons, I’m not neutral regarding basic principles of Christian living, such as respect for justice, fairness, honesty, or kindness. “My interest,” I tell clients, “is in helping you arrive at a just and equitable resolution through a process that truly reconciles you. To achieve this, we will demonstrate a Christ-like love and concern for each other, in spite of the difficult circumstances.” If people balk at this stance, I refer them to another resource.
Develop ground rules. I’ve found it helpful to set ground rules: providing for breaks on request, meeting privately with one side, and keeping all matters confidential.
The private meeting is called a caucus, and I afford each side equal opportunity to meet with me privately. I request a break for a caucus whenever I sense a crucial impasse or when vital information simply isn’t forthcoming with both parties present.
In meeting with an employer and a terminated employee over a severance plan, for instance, the employer may say, “I’ll give a month’s severance pay and nothing more.” But the employee may insist on three months’ pay on threat of litigation. If I can’t make either side budge, I may say, “I’d like to talk with each of you privately.”
I’ll ask the employer, “What has led you to the conclusion that you could provide no more than one month of severance pay?”
He may say, “Well, I didn’t want to bring it up before, but we strongly suspect he’s been defrauding the company. We’re willing to give him a month just to close the books on the matter, but we can’t see any more than that!” Up until that point, we’ve been dealing with what I thought was substandard job performance, but this information brings a whole new perspective to the subject.
Another reason for caucusing is to explore sensitive options in private. If one party is being unreasonable and I confront that party in front of the other, I’ve bolstered the observer’s case. So I get alone with the offending party. In the caucus, I don’t say, “Look, Buddy, you’re being a jerk.” I point, instead, to an independent standard of reasonableness (such as the typical court decisions I used above in the property settlement case) and ask how reasonable the party’s requests are in light of that standard.
Additional ground rules can be added as needed. Occasionally, the participants develop ground rules they believe important. One woman made it a ground rule that her husband not be allowed to refer to her as a “spendthrift.” My experience, however, is that the fewer the rules, the better.
Facilitate storytelling. For many, merely the opportunity to tell what has occurred is cathartic. Thus, once preliminaries are completed, I ask each person to tell his or her story-without interruption from the other side, except for requests for clarification. Typically, I find I need to help keep the story on topic. I spend a fair amount of time helping the parties use words that don’t belittle or infuriate the other, particularly when we’re first getting started.
If the parties start name-calling, I institute a ground rule that requires that such statements be immediately withdrawn if they are made again.
Sometimes the belittling is more subtle. That should not only be stopped, but pointed out for further discussion.
In one case, a man kept referring to his business partner’s habit of “procrastinating.” When I could see it was bothering his partner, I said to the man, “It sounds like you feel your partner is not completing certain tasks on time. Is that correct?”
“Yes, it is,” he replied.
“Could you be more specific?”
“He often makes bank deposits after we’re overdrawn, for one thing.”
I turned to his partner. “Were you aware that your partner had this concern?”
When he replied that he wasn’t, we put it on their list of things that needed discussing.
Build an agenda. As each side speaks, I try to listen carefully and empathetically. I’m listening for issues, the points of disagreement. We need to build an agenda of questions that need to be resolved, and part of my role is to help the parties define the conflict accurately and reach agreement on specific issues in need of resolution.
Not long ago I mediated a case between two Christian families with a dispute over a piece of property one had purchased from the other. As we talked, three separate issues emerged: (1) whether the agreed-upon price was $12,000 or $15,000, (2) under what circumstances the seller could foreclose, and (3) allegations of deception on both parts. Those three issues became our agenda, and one by one we negotiated a settlement that made all of us happy.
Create alternatives. Once we have a basic understanding of the conflict, we turn from the task of analyzing to the more difficult job of creating ways to meet each other’s needs. Creating solutions generally is more difficult than analyzing, because people invest a great amount of emotional energy in being right.
Typically, people keep returning to the past. I’ll say, “Let’s brainstorm a number of creative ways to solve this problem,” and one of the parties will reply, “There’s no need to be creative. He’s deceived me, and he has to pay!”
My response then has to be something like: “We’ve been over that, and I understand you feel this way. But, tell me, what other possible outcomes are there that might make you feel satisfied?” Sometimes the person then lays out an idea that surprises everyone. The trick is to get people to see a number of options, rather than “the one and only fair solution.”
For example, I was working a couple through a legal separation, and they got stuck on the property settlement. The wife wanted $200,000, and the husband was offering $25,000 maximum. As I caucused with each side, I learned that underlying these numbers were deeper concerns. The wife, approaching retirement, had nothing set aside; she wanted financial security, and $200,000 was the bare minimum for her. The husband turned out to be in a cash-flow bind, and $25,000 was the most cash he could come up with without drastic measures.
I realized the conflict wasn’t over the amount of the settlement but about security versus present ability to pay. So I asked the wife, “Do you need $200,000 tomorrow, or could it be paid over time?” I asked the husband, “Do you object to the amount your wife is requesting or the fact she wants it in a lump sum?” When we started looking at alternative payment plans, they worked out a ten-year deal. All they needed was a creative option.
Restructure the conflict. My main task is to get people out of stalemate by encouraging them to approach disputed issues from a different, more useful perspective. To do this, I look for points of agreement they may not have considered. I also begin to peer beneath the surface to gain insight into what is motivating them.
In the example of Sharon and Dave, the key point was that neither wanted divorce. Once they heard that from each other, the definition of the conflict changed dramatically. No longer did they seek to divide property, but rather they grappled with ways to meet each other’s needs. For them, it involved selling their home and using the proceeds to pay off debts and purchase more affordable housing.
In other situations a productive starting point may be more difficult to discern, but I generally find I can help locate it by drawing out what is important to each person.
Understand the interests involved. In the language of mediation, an interest is what motivates people; it lies beneath the surface and is usually basic. Fear, greed, pride, vengeance, anger-all reside in people and especially so when those people are in the midst of significant disputes.
But, in many of the cases we handle, people also know some Scripture and basic Christian values. I can act as a mirror and encourage the person to examine all his or her motives.
For example, in another case where a couple was heading toward divorce, we reached an impasse over the question of maintenance, what used to be called alimony. The husband, who steadfastly maintained he wanted to reconcile, was taking a hardnosed position, asserting that if his wife wanted to leave him, she needed to learn right away what life would be like on her own. I decided to meet with him in private.
“Tell me again what is important for you on this maintenance question,” I asked.
“I don’t think I should have to pay her if she’s going to destroy our family,” he said. “If she wants to go out on her own, I can’t stop her. But I’m sure not going to pay for it!”
“You said before that you hoped you might be able to reconcile with your wife,” I reminded him. “If that’s important to you, how will your stance on this maintenance question help you accomplish that?”
“By teaching her that life will be tough without me,” he replied.
“Do you think that’s really the lesson she will learn?” I asked. There was a long pause.
“No,” he said at last. “What she’ll say is that I’m a jerk and that I’m still trying to control her.”
“Have you considered what it might look like for you to love your wife as Christ loved the church, to lay down your life for her?” I pressed. “The choice is yours, but I’d encourage you to consider how that attitude might help us not only resolve the question of maintenance but also lead your wife to want to restore the marriage.”
The husband ultimately became more willing to provide maintenance, and an agreement was reached. Success came first from his realizing that he had wanted to control his wife-“to teach her a lesson”-and then by choosing a more Christlike motive.
Watching My Boundaries
In mediation, I look for warning signs that tell me the process or my abilities as mediator might be impaired. These “boundaries,” whether personal or professional, must be protected. Let me list a few.
Maintaining neutrality. The ways my neutrality can be co-opted are nearly as numerous as the people who desire my services. However, threats to neutrality usually come in one of two basic forms:
1. “Don’t you think it would be better if. . . ?” In this approach, I’m asked to state a preference, usually regarding a matter at issue. When this happens, I remind the parties of my role and what I’ve already told them-that I would not give advice or recommendations. If they need advice, I refer them to an advice giver. My job is to help them resolve their dispute, not to do the work for them.
2. “I thought you were going to be neutral . . .” This usually arises when I’ve brought up a topic one person would prefer not to consider, such as reconciliation, or I’ve raised a point thus far overlooked. I reply, “You’ve asked me to help you develop a complete resolution-one that incorporates the Christian faith. I think we need to look at this point if we’re ever going to find that kind of resolution.”
Occasionally, however, someone points out that something I’ve said, or the way I said it, inferred I had a preference. When this happens, I try to acknowledge error quickly and take steps to reassure both sides of my neutrality. If one or both remain dissatisfied, I offer to withdraw and help them find another mediator.
Avoiding rescue. By the time people get to me, often they are in difficult shape emotionally and spiritually. I’m tremendously tempted to rescue them from their troubles.
Because of my background in law, this temptation most often arises when people request legal advice. As a result, I make a lot of referrals to Christian lawyers and sometimes insist that a person see an attorney before exploring mediation.
Within the church, this type of request may come in the guise of one party, who thinks he or she has the “correct” biblical response to an issue, wanting the pastor to convince the other party of its correctness. There are times, of course, when this is the proper approach. Christians respect right and wrong, and sometimes that means taking sides in clear-cut issues, such as abuse or immorality.
However, once I take on the role of rescuer, I’ve probably eliminated my usefulness as a mediator, for I’ll be seen in that role by the rescued party and be expected to act accordingly. Not surprisingly, the other side will see me as little more than an agent of the opposition.
Separating the past from the future. Participants in mediation tend initially to use the process to try to resolve past events or injustices. Mediation, however, focuses largely on the future, on helping people agree where they want to go from here. The linking of past and future can cause considerable confusion.
Consider, for example, a conflict that arose during the remodeling of a church. Although a written contract had been signed, many oral changes were made during the construction. When the church found itself being billed for something it didn’t order, the problem erupted. Both sides exchanged contradictory statements regarding what was orally agreed upon, and the project came to a halt.
When the problem entered mediation, each side initially spent much time trying to convince the other of its point of view, which, as might be expected, got them nowhere. Not until they began to look to the future-to answer the question, “Where do you want to go from here?”-did the negotiation become productive. Only then did each side focus on ways to work more effectively together, including writing down changes to the contract. And they agreed to split the difference on the issue in controversy. Had they been unable or unwilling to look to the future, they would have needed a process that could assess liability for past events, such as arbitration or litigation.
Separating past from future also helps people meaningfully consider forgiveness. The past cannot be changed, of course, but a person may be trying to get even for past wrongs by weighing the future proportionately. A husband who feels victimized by his wife’s leaving may try to gain custody of their children, or an employee who feels unappreciated may want to get even by litigating her termination. Legitimate questions of justice may be involved and shouldn’t be brushed aside, but where the true agenda is vengeance, forgiveness offers a liberating option.
Resolution and Reconciliation
The mediation process is not foolproof. In most instances it works about as well as the commitment brought into it by the participants. It can and is abused from time to time, particularly when one side simply tries to postpone resolution or wants a socially acceptable way to get back at the other. When this happens, I explain that mediation appears unproductive and I withdraw from their dispute.
Then I help them see other options. Perhaps arbitration is needed, or even legal proceedings. If so, I urge them to see the proper parties to resolve their dispute. I simply know I’m not the one to help them.
Of course, before we get to this point, I try other means to work with the negative forces. For instance, if anger is the problem, I’ll say in caucus to a husband, “I asked you to meet with me in private because it seems you’re really angry. I’m hearing many words from you about your wife, such as ‘lazy’ and ‘stupid.’ Do you feel as angry at her as these words make you sound?”
Often the man will say something like, “Well, she does make me mad. Anyone would be mad in my situation.”
Then I say, “I wonder if you want anger to motivate you? Or would you prefer another standard to control the situation, something more in keeping with our faith?”
Mediation depends on honesty and good intentions. When both parties earnestly pursue resolution, mediation can yield some truly remarkable results.
Laurie and Carl had been divorced many years but had returned to court several times on a variety of issues. Neither of them obeyed their decree, and each pointed an accusing finger at the other. By the time they found their way to me, they’d run up huge debts with their attorneys and had concluded they’d better try another approach. Moreover, each had become a Christian since their divorce, and they now desired to honor God in the way they resolved their differences.
It took a couple of hours to get the agenda boiled down to the three main issues on which they disagreed: changes in visitation, health care for their children, and payment of overdue child support. I decided to begin with the healthcare question, since they already agreed their children’s health needs ought to be met. But each thought the other ought to pay.
I asked them whether there were any other ways in which this issue might be resolved. They sat silently. “What system have you been using thus far?” I asked.
“Whoever has the children winds up getting stuck with the bill,” Laurie said.
“Okay. So that’s an option,” I responded. I wrote it on the blackboard. “Let’s come up with some more.” We ultimately came up with eight possibilities, including sharing the costs, relying on the deacons’ fund, praying for the children when they were sick, and borrowing money from relatives. As we reviewed each option, I pointed out that only two were clearly unacceptable-the options that each other be solely responsible.
Their perspective on this issue slowly changed. No longer were they arguing over who would pay Instead, they began to work together on how their children’s health needs could be met. They finally came to an agreement that involved sharing costs, praying, and utilizing Carl’s new employee-health plan.
As Carl and Laurie discussed the benefits of each option, the walls separating them began to come down. Over the next several weeks, they were able to resolve each issue in a way that increasingly demonstrated concern for each other. They asked for and received forgiveness for past sins and, in the end, no longer needed my services.
Most satisfying for them was that they had regained control of their lives. The beneficiaries included not only themselves, but also their children. They’ve been able to sustain this new working relationship through subsequent difficult issues.
Probably few things bring greater honor to God than resolving conflicts and becoming reconciled to each other.
From time to time, we may have the privilege of helping nudge this process along by serving as mediators. Though difficult and not without risk, mediation also gives opportunity to provide what so often is missing in unresolved disputes-a means of taking the first, tentative steps back into relationship.
Copyright © 1990 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
