Combatants may win occasional battles or achieve some gains as heroic martyrs, but they seldom motivate lasting change.
—Douglas Rumford
Some differences—between snowflakes, for instance, or symphony instruments—make us delight in diversity. Other differences, however, like those between vinegar and baking soda, combine to set off a furious reaction.
I learned the volatile nature of diversity in a church during an allcommittee night. I had been pastor of the church for about a year and a half. The congregation was growing in its understanding and practice of Christian discipleship, but the growth was not without discord.
One committee was discussing spiritual qualifications for leadership. A young man was telling his fellow committee members that our increasing emphasis on a personal relationship with Jesus Christ was making us too narrow and restrictive.
“Look,” said Jim, “none of us is a saint. If you don’t have room for people who doubt and struggle and don’t speak perfect theology, I won’t be part of it.”
A long, strained dialogue began. Over an hour later, we realized Jim was hearing one message—not intended by the others—and would not be convinced otherwise.
Meanwhile, in another committee, an older woman named Janice, who was new to our congregation, was calling for more evangelistic zeal. Later that night I learned she had said, “This church isn’t really preaching the Bible. We’re being too timid. The gospel is demanding!”
Others on the committee appreciated her desire to trumpet the high cost of discipleship a la Bonhoeffer. But they did not agree that our church wasn’t preaching the gospel, and they differed on how to reach the goal of deeper commitment. The committee discussed the need to balance the demands of the gospel with the grace of the gospel—to meet people where they are. Janice felt they were soft-pedaling the gospel’s demands.
I went home that night heartsick. I respected both Jim and Janice, yet now they were pulling hard in opposite directions. I visited each of them, but both concluded they could not continue as members.
The pain from that kind of conflict opens questions, challenges assumptions, and teaches lessons. I began to wrestle with the nature and expression of diverse opinion within the church. What is unity? When is total agreement in belief and practice essential? How can a diverse congregation move forward with harmony?
From my own limited experience and perspective, I have formulated some basic principles that are guiding me on my pastoral journey. I do not claim the authority of an expert. I simply offer my best reflections as an apprentice.
Kaleidoscopic ministry
Believers usually react negatively to the word plurality. We suppose that if we really love the Lord and each other, we will all agree. But do we always agree with our parents? Our spouse? Our best friend? Ourselves?
Differences and disagreements are part of the business of living. Common sense tells us these do not have to mean antagonism or division, yet many churches and individuals fear diversity is an evidence of disunity and even unfaithfulness.
Scripture supports the notion of diversity in the church. In Luke 9, for instance, the disciples wanted to forbid a man from casting out demons in Christ’s name because he wasn’t part of their group. But Jesus gently rebuked their intolerance and exclusivism: “He that is not against you is for you.” We are left to speculate about the man’s relationship to Jesus, but it is clear Jesus did not demand everyone meet a rigid set of external criteria.
Diversity is a fact of life for us pastors. The mobility of society means constant relocation of church members. Many cross denominational lines to join the church that most appeals to them. They bring to their new church different ideas and practices.
People coming to our church from a background of adult baptism, for example, struggle with our baptism of infants. Others never had women in leadership and find they must work through their theology and understanding of Paul’s teaching. Some come to New England from regions of the country where churches are often more influential; they expect the church to take stronger stands in the community. Others come from churches where the style of worship is different, and they want that style here.
The tensions created by this diversity often make us uncomfortable. We desire to serve God in a pure, orderly way, and when diversity stirs disagreement, it’s difficult to remind ourselves of its benefits.
But we need each person’s viewpoint. We need those who reflect and those who act. We need the advocates of biblical literacy and those who hold forth compassion for the elderly, the poor, and the imprisoned as taught in Mattew 25.
The joy comes as we listen to, appreciate, and affirm each other. Yes, diversity causes friction, but that friction produces warmth.
Boiled-down basics
Does acceptance of diversity mean you open the door to any viewpoint of theology or ethics?
Certainly not!
In any object or activity we find a mixture of essentials and nonessentials. In church history, debate over what was adiaphora, or “indifferent and tolerable,” frequently shook the church. Just as maple sap is boiled and reboiled to produce the delicacy of maple syrup, it’s critical to distill the essential in order to set priorities and values. Certain central beliefs must be shared as the basis for a working relationship.
On one occasion a woman named Mary came to me to discuss church membership. She had served as a lay worker on several church staffs in other cities before moving to this area. She wanted to explore my view of Scripture and the historical Jesus. It soon became clear that our presuppositions were widely divergent on these central issues. At the risk of being simplistic, let me say that Mary’s theology was much more liberal than mine. After more than forty-five minutes of intense, stimulating, and unsettling discussion, Mary made an insightful observation: “We speak all the same languages except for the mother tongue. We don’t read or understand in common ways the one Book that was written to bind us together in living for God.”
Mary then asked the critical question, “Is there room for this broad range of theological opinion in this church?” Neither of us wanted to say no, but we both knew the chasm was too wide. We parted as friends, yet did not begin a pastor/parishioner relationship. Because Mary and I knew the need for agreement in the basics, we saved ourselves the ongoing anguish that likely would have resulted had she and her family joined the church.
In addition to personal conversations with the pastor, a new-members class helps prospective members understand the basic viewpoint of a congregation. We call our class the “Explorations Class,” with the understanding that participants are exploring what it means to be a Christian and a member of this congregation. The six-week class is required for membership, but people take the class with no obligation to join. We have found this an invaluable means of building a solid relational and theological foundation for church life.
Open channels
The leader’s task in handling diversity can be likened to taking a picture. Two technical factors contribute to the taking of a fine photograph: light and focus. Too little light means the image will not register on the film. Incorrect focus produces a blurry image.
A primary means of bringing light and focus to a situation is conversation. When challenged, most people avoid a problem or react aggressively. Neither means resolves the problem. The leaders of the church need to open channels for communication, especially on highly charged issues.
At Session (church board) meetings, we regularly discuss letters and comments from the congregation. Congregational forums, group discussion, retreats, and newsletters also enable the dialogue that keeps diversity constructive.
One congregation had existed as a diverse, healthy congregation for many years under the leadership of its pastor. Following that pastor’s call to another church, the newly called pastor ran into difficulties. People began taking sides, and close friendships were strained. Within a year, the new pastor left, and the congregation found it needed to work through some basic issues before it could call another pastor. The people held a series of congregation-wide forums on specific topics, and I was asked to lead one. After teaching on diversity, I asked them to do these things:
— List three to five primary beliefs you think ought to be central to the life of this church.
— List three to five issues you know are currently discussed that you personally consider less than central to your life in this fellowship.
— List three to five areas of belief and/or practice in which you are unsure. What would help you resolve your uncertainty?
When the people answered these questions, they began to see their differences were not as great as they’d seemed, nor were they rooted in the essentials of the faith. As the study closed, one man said, “One of the gifts God has given me in this church is its diversity. It’s helped me stretch further than I ever thought I would. Let’s not lose it.”
Appreciated experience
Many conflicts are aggravated because people fail to take seriously the emotions involved. Emotions arise from our experiences.
Following a special service one evening, Geri told me she objected to “guitar and campfire” songs in church. We fell into a good, hearty conversation. She was honest and caring enough to tell me her experience as a child at church summer camps had been rigid and emotionally manipulative. Contemporary praise choruses transported her back to those uncomfortable, frustrating days. The painful emotions of her experience clouded her view of nontraditional music.
I shared with her one principle that helped me keep an open mind about worship styles: in worship, God is the audience. The incident of Jesus blessing the children came to mind, perhaps because our children’s choir had just sung.
“Geri,” I said, “when we clapped for the children this evening, I thought of Jesus laying hands on the children. We appreciated the children’s enthusiasm and overlooked the less-than-perfect presentation. Instinctively, we know that our Lord is honored by the gift of the heart, regardless of the sophistication of the form. After all, music is an offering to God, not entertainment for the congregation.”
Geri smiled. “I guess the Lord likes all our songs,” she replied, “as long as they’re from the heart. But don’t forget about those of us who’ve been burned.”
We both grew from our conversation: I was reminded again of the need for sensitivity, and Geri learned she could praise God with six-string guitars as well as pipe organs.
Style and substance
Too often we mistake style for substance, rejecting or accepting both without distinguishing the two. Evangelism is a frequent victim of this. I often encounter resistance to evangelism based on a person’s unpleasant experience with a particular evangelistic method. The way to soften resistance is to focus clearly on the substance of evangelism and be creative in the style it might take in a particular situation.
After three years at my present church, I wanted to provide the opportunity for people to respond publicly to a call to commitment. I discussed the idea with our worship committee. They were concerned that we not create a situation in which people would feel judged if they didn’t respond in a certain way, and they gave helpful counsel on the most appropriate way to present the call and the mode of response. We agreed that I would precede the call with a careful explanation in order to avoid misunderstanding. On the worship committee’s recommendation, the Session unanimously approved the plan.
On Easter Sunday as the sermon concluded, I prefaced the call to commitment and recommitment with a careful explanation. Nearly 10 percent of the congregation stood in response. Later, many expressed appreciation for the opportunity. One woman said, “I’m usually totally turned-off by something like an ‘altar call,’ but your explanation helped me see the value of a public response.”
At our next Session meeting I learned that a few members expressed concern that this activity was “un-Presbyterian.” In conversation, I learned that “un-Presbyterian” meant it was outside their experience in Presbyterian churches. Our Presbyterian Book of Order, however, says that during the worship service the people “should have an opportunity to give themselves to the Lord. An invitation may be given to individuals to respond … by making a personal profession of faith in Jesus Christ.”
This experience reminded me that biblical and theological education of the laity reduces the strains of diversity by helping people better understand the substance of their faith. The teaching of church history and tradition can broaden people’s outlook and help them accept others’ viewpoints and practices.
Combatants may win occasional battles or achieve some gains as heroic martyrs, but they seldom motivate lasting change. The critical need in situations of diversity is to reason clearly through issues and to care lovingly for people. Above all, we need to hang in there.
To use the photographic analogy, we must discern the individual’s and the congregation’s “speed” (i.e., sensitivity to light). Some are ASA 100, slow to absorb but still capable of giving a good picture. Others are ASA 400, quick to accept new things. We must be faithful with what we are given.
Copyright © 1997
