It is only by risking our persons from one hour to another that we live at all. And often enough our faith beforehand in an uncertified result is the only thing that makes the result come true.
William James1
As you probably have suspected, there isn’t always a clear-cut distinction between theological, institutional, interpersonal, and personal decisions. Many risks combine elements from several categories. One pastor remembered a particularly difficult example.
“We had a highly gifted young man in our church. He was well-loved, a graduate student, our youth group sponsor. He seemed to everyone a devoted, responsible person. He and his wife were especially close to another couple in the church with several children. John became close to one of them, an elementary school boy — so close that during a period of severe academic and marital stress, John became involved in some sexual games with this youngster.
“I’d had a particularly exhausting week. The church had been through several tragedies in the past month. People were torn up, and I preached that morning as best I could from depleted reserves. Then I had a funeral service after evening service — I didn’t get home until a quarter to eleven. Thinking I had finally coped with all the problems, I tried to relax.
“At 11:15 the phone rang. It was a church leader calling to tell me his son had been molested by their good friend and our youth leader, John. They had filed a complaint with the police but wanted me to know. That way if I wanted to help prepare John and his wife (she knew nothing about it yet) I could.
“I knew I had to act immediately. If a policeman knocked at the door, John’s wife would be devastated. I called John and told him I had to see him and his wife immediately at the church. I called the elders and asked them to meet us there. When I arrived seven people were already waiting.
“I knew there would be hostility and confusion. From 11:30 until 2:30 that morning, we talked through the whole thing. When John realized it wasn’t a lynching party, he relaxed somewhat. He confessed and was very remorseful. We tried to balance kindness and truth with confrontation and concern. You can imagine the gut-wrenching experience it was.
“Until then, I’d had a great pastoral relationship with both families. Now I was caught in the middle. Based on past experiences, everyone should have trusted me. Given the circumstances, I felt that no one did.
“As elders, we had to deal with the spiritual side of the question with John, but we also had to be concerned with the well-being of the body. Were other children involved? John said no. I believed him (and it turned out there never were). But at the time, all the kids he had contact with were potential victims. What to do about them and their families?
“Timing was a problem. We decided that to go public with the news before properly dealing with John and his wife would be counterproductive. So we waited until legal authorities acted before we made any public statement. This was not a popular decision. Mothers of other boys were incensed later that we had not immediately gone public with the story. I had spent the evening with one family the day before the news broke. They were extremely upset that I hadn’t said anything to them about it.
“After it was over, we still had to figure out what to do as a church about the legal obligations. Some were forgiving while others remained extremely bitter.
“Up to this point, I thought we had handled the pastoral aspects well, both with John and the church as a whole. I’m not sure we did as well with the legal aspects. Because I had heard John’s confession that Sunday night in front of others, I had to testify when subpoenaed. John’s family held that against me. They felt I had taken advantage of John. They said he had understood what he said to me wouldn’t be held against him in court. None of us were thinking about that at the time. We were acting as a church, not as arresting officers.
“I didn’t testify willingly. I pleaded with the grand jury not to subpoena me — they could have subpoenaed others — but they subpoenaed me. One question was, ‘In your opinion, was his confession in the priestly relationship?’ I said, ‘No, other people were present.’ Further, according to state law, anyone, including clergy, who receives information of child molestation is obligated to report it.
“I did more — and as I look back, it may have been too much. In my concern for John, I checked out legal options for him and recommended an attorney. Eventually John was sent to prison. Unfortunately, the attorney turned out to be a hotshot, and because I had been candid about my role in trying to mediate the situation with all parties, the attorney tried to talk John’s family into suing me for violation of confidentiality.
“As a result of this experience, I would counsel pastors to be cautious when dealing with attorneys. Openness can get you into trouble. I simply didn’t understand some of the implications of the questions they asked. Frankly, you need your own attorney.
“I also talked with the district attorney; after the judgment, I tried to do some plea bargaining. I felt I went more than the second mile, yet looking back, I wonder if some of my efforts were counterproductive.
“There are no simple steps to take in this situation. Usually when something bad happens, you can look back and say, ‘This, this, and this were probably mistakes. And this is what I did right.’ But in this case, I still wonder how I could have ministered to everyone any differently. The concerns were so diverse and in many cases conflicting.
“My ministry had been productive at that church. I had been there four years and planned to stay a long time. But after this, my effectiveness was greatly reduced. I came to realize there are times in ministry when you have to make decisions that may destroy your long-term effectiveness with some people. It’s the nature of the job. Some transitions are part of the game.
“God used me at that church, then moved me to a new situation. I came through a tough situation, and now God is using me in a different context.”
Analysis
This case involves all of the four categories: theological (pastoral concern for John’s spiritual well-being), institutional (the church’s relationship with the community and its legal requirements), interpersonal (ministry to the families of the other boys in the church), and when we consider the impact the events had on the pastor’s family and career, it also has elements of a personal risk. How does a leader attack such a complex problem?
First, recognize one methodology alone won’t work. It is useless to reduce the whole thing to a theological question, say, and deal with it on the basis of the Law of Right and Wrong. That approach will satisfy certain portions of the problem but will only exacerbate others.
Second, break the situation into its components. Usually thinking through the people involved helps to demarcate the types of risks. Dealing with John is one part of the problem. Dealing with the elders is another, while dealing with the police and lawyers is a third. A fourth would be dealing with the mothers of other children. Each of these components requires a different risk-taking style.
In this case, the pastor instinctively tried to do this, with some success. With John, the pastor showed compassion and forgiveness. He acted out of concern for his spiritual and emotional well-being. He did his best to cushion the blow for John’s wife and spent time assuring them of the church’s support, all the while never losing sight of the seriousness of the problem and the need for upholding the theological requirement for confession of sin. The pastor managed to treat John’s sin as something to be put away and overcome, all the while telling John himself of the possibility of forgiveness and the surety of the church’s love.
With the elders the pastor walked a similar tightrope, balancing the need to uphold the theological integrity of the church with the need to put the institution in a position to comply with state law. He did not succumb to the temptation to overplay the theological by denying the existence or value of the law of the land, nor did he ignore the theological implications of the situation simply to satisfy law enforcement officials.
As he admits, he probably erred most in dealing with the lawyers — trying to deal with them on an interpersonal level rather than with institutional principles. As a result, they tried to take advantage of his candor.
He also admits failing to satisfy the mothers of other children in the church. But this he explains (accurately, I think) not as a result of his failure but as the result of being forced onto the horns of a dilemma that could not be resolved to the satisfaction of all.
Third, recognize that some problems have no satisfactory answers. Some situations offer no good solutions, only choices between bad and worse. For some reason, in this fallen world God sometimes uses suffering and evil as his schoolroom to teach humility and grace. We must be prepared, in the face of impossible problems that we know will eventually lead to a change of churches, to submit to God’s unknown purposes. Faith becomes most meaningful when we are faced with the meaninglessness of tragedy, sin, and suffering.
William James, The Will to Believe (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1979).
Copyright ©1987 by Christianity Today
