COMMENTARY: A Plea for Texas Baptist leaders: No more fighting!_miley_72803

Posted 7/17/03

COMMENTARY:
A Plea for Texas Baptist leaders: No more fighting!

By Jeanie Miley

Gathered around a conference table at a large church in Seoul, Korea, this spring, I was prepared to respond to questions about contemplative prayer, the topic on which I had been invited to lecture for two days.

Quickly, however, one of the pastors asked me to explain the "war" among Baptists, a war I don’t want to think about any longer. It’s a war that brings up, still, huge pain for me, and I was embarrassed, half a world away, that the war was a subject of interest to them. Is our war, I wondered to myself, what defines us?

I recalled, that morning, that I was young and idealistic back in ‘79. As a young minister’s wife with a passion for Christ, a love for the local church and a lifelong loyalty to my denomination, there was no way I could have imagined the impact of the now-famous meeting at Café du Mond in New Orleans.

My father was a Texas Baptist minister, and so I didn’t come into my role in the church with stars in my eyes. I did want to make a difference–with my life and with my work–but I had no idea that part of the challenge would be dealing with the threats to the very fabric of my religious world from my own people.

I am no longer naïve; I am frightened by what can happen if we continue to fight with each other.

In these intervening years, I’ve learned a lot, and the people with whom I work and worship have learned a lot, as well. We are not the naïve innocents we were in ‘79, and most of the people in my life don’t want any more fighting.

I have been profoundly disillusioned, but the truth is that dis-illusionment is a good thing, for it is only when the illusions are shattered and the lies exposed that the truth and the Truth of Christ can thrive. One of the hard lessons I have learned through this denominational warfare is that the truth can and will set you free. But first, it may make you miserable!

And so, as I read about current changes in our state, I recall some of the hard lessons I’ve learned. Basically, I’ve learned what I don’t believe and what I don’t want, and I’ve also gotten clearer and more focused and more committed and passionate about what I do believe and what I do want.

I’ve learned that most people don’t care nearly as much about how you interpret the Bible as they do about how you treat them. Most folks already have enough challenges in making a living and making their lives work, and if and when they come to church, the last thing they need is another battle to fight, a war to win or a position to take.

Most folks, I’ve learned, desperately need to know they are loved by God and by the people with whom they worship, and when they come to church, they need to be inspired, encouraged, equipped and empowered to live the abundant life that Jesus promised and provides.

I’ve also learned fear is a powerful motivator, and it feels safe to be in large groups where everyone agrees and where there are leaders who offer certainty and safety, absolutes and guarantees, easy answers to complex questions and a return to the patterns and practices of the past when the present and the future seem too scary or when changes are too fast and too tumultuous.

In seeing churches split and families torn asunder over one doctrinal issue or another, I’ve learned how precious and how fragile is the family of God known as the local church. I have learned how quickly what took previous generations years to build can be destroyed.

I’ve learned that most people in the pew don’t want to wrangle and fuss with each other. The people I know have lost their appetite for political strategizing. They aren’t nearly as interested in rallies and meetings now, but that doesn’t mean they are going to roll over and play dead when somebody with an agenda of control and power comes to town.

I’ve also learned some people do want others to do their thinking for them, and some folks need and want authoritarian systems. Some people simply don’t want to deal with complex issues, and some people would rather jeopardize freedom for themselves and others than face hard issues, call things what they really are and have the courage to speak out and speak up about controversial issues. I’ve learned some folks are too afraid of others’ disapproval to stand up for their convictions, and sometimes I’m one of those persons!

I’ve also learned some people on both sides do want to fuss and fight, no matter what the issue is, and that is their way of being in the world. I’ve learned some people aren’t happy without a war or without an enemy to defeat, and that is fine, for them. As for me, that isn’t the way I want to be in the world. It really doesn’t fit with my theology as a flawed, but eager, follower of the Prince of Peace, and I’ve had to learn not to let myself be used by people who need warriors for their battles.

I’ve looked into the faces of people whose careers were blown up over whether or not they fit the mold or the plan of the people in control, and I’ve watched them struggle to put their lives back together. I’ve learned it is a dangerous thing to mess with another person’s calling, and I shudder at the way we humans tamper and trifle with the things and the people of God.

I’ve also learned God truly is at work in all things, and in some cases, people who have been ravaged by denominational power plays come out better and stronger. Often, however, they’ve moved on to other denominations.

I’ve sat with pastors and pastors’ wives across the country and listened to the despondency and despair as they have tried to visit the sick, bury the dead, balance the church budget and preach week after week while also meeting weekly interrogations by folks who listen for the right buzzword that will satisfy their need to know they are in a true Baptist church and that their pastor toes the line of one particular group or another.

I’ve seen highly educated leaders being challenged on issues of doctrine by people who are recent converts, brand new to Bible study, church polity and doctrine. I’ve seen brand-new church members with their own political agenda handed to them by someone else turn the hard work of trained staff people upside down in one business meeting, and I’ve seen church members who think that is a good thing! I have seen people from other denominations come into a Baptist church and try to impose another denomination’s polity or doctrine on Baptists. I know, firsthand, the stress our leaders carry, having to spend their energy dealing with denominational conflict, knowing that they have been diverted from the most important tasks of all.

I’ve heard pastors share what happens when they do speak out, for one side or another, and I’ve heard them tell about what they are called if they don’t.

From where I sit, some of the most tragic victims of this denominational warfare have been the children who observe the warfare with tender and impressionable minds. I’ve heard the sad tales of our leaders’ children who have witnessed the ugliest side of this warfare, up close and personal, and have said, "If this is what church is about, I’m outta here," and I’m wondering if those who have been so cavalier among us remember it is not a good thing to cause the little ones to stumble.

I’ve learned those who set themselves up as judge, jury or executioner of someone else’s life or calling had better be ready to have the same standard applied to their own lives, and I’ve seen those who live by the lie, the innuendo, the rumor and the political strategy often get their weapon of choice used on them.

In traveling around as I do, leading retreats and workshops for Baptists and other denominations, I have witnessed the suspicions that have grown in church life as we members of the family of God have polarized around various hot-button issues and doctrinal points of view. I have witnessed the fear and the diminishment of creativity as power became the ruling principle in our agencies and boards.

I have learned to differentiate myself from one kind of Baptist or another, and my tough standard for myself is to be the kind of Christian whose life and message are formed by the mercy, grace and love of God, and that the news I give really is good news and not the bad news of conflict, judgment and censure.

Some of us love to say we "aren’t into politics", but the truth is that anyone who has been two years old has dabbled in politics, pitting one parent against another. Politics is a part of life, but we need to recall who the real enemy to the gospel of Christ is and what the real threats are. We Baptists need to remember what our Commission is and forget our campaigns against each other.

With all of my heart, I believe there are principles that are worth defending. I have learned that individuals and groups must be savvy, informed and aware of the threats to religious integrity and freedom. I have learned that one of the tests of character is the ability to stand up for one’s convictions. But we Baptists must learn how to do that without destroying each other.

I have learned bad things happen when secular political strategies are used in sacred places. I cringe when I consider that we employ the tactics of the political world to "win" and "lose," to "conquer and defeat" each other. The most minimally sophisticated among us knows the principle that where love is lacking, power and control rush in, and I have learned that where power and control dominate, there is no room for love.

When I read Jesus’ teachings, I can’t find anywhere that he said, "By your doctrinal agreements, your political maneuverings or your powerful positions, people will know that you are my disciples."

No matter how many times I try to find an easier way, the words stay the same: "By this shall all know that you are my disciples, by the love that you have for each other."

I take that, well, literally.

And imperfectly, incompletely and under the grace of God, I try to live it, and when I cannot, I fall back into the open arms of a merciful God who keeps on giving me another chance not to get it right, but to love the world that God loves.

And in that spirit, I beg you, presidents and leaders of Texas: No more fighting! No more takeovers. No more politics of power and control.

I am no longer naïve; I am frightened by what can happen if we continue to fight with each other.

I do not speak for any group or any church. I speak only for myself, but I plead with deacons and ministers, church members and agency heads: No more using people, created in the image of God, as pawns and objects in political games!

There’s a world that needs to know the saving grace and healing love of Jesus Christ, and part of the world that needs to know the healing love of Jesus most is the church. If all the world knows of us is that we fight each other with intent to dominate, defeat, diminish and destroy, we have tainted and sullied the very life of the One we claim to represent.

As I understand it, the Good News is that it is possible to have a personal, dynamic, love relationship with the Living Christ, and that that relationship is filled with love, grace and peace and all the other fruit of the Holy Spirit.

Sharing that good news is our mission, isn’t it? The gospel is what we want to be known for in Seoul and Samaria, San Angelo and Sabine, isn’t it?

The passion and love for Jesus Christ is the very thing we share, the thing that transforms and heals, inspires and unites us, isn’t it? And isn’t that the good news we say we are committed to proclaim? Isn’t that what we have been known for?

Or is it, really?

Jeanie Miley is an author and contemplative prayer and retreat leader from River Oaks Baptist Church in Houston