The problem with this particular conflict (and therefore, the catalyst for that which was brought into focus for me) was that this is not a conflict that I have a lot of power or control to change. Further, the roots of the conflict are particularly difficult for me to identify, so much of what I was able to name were symptoms rather than sources. 

However, sticking with this conflict even though it did not feel like the most straightforward way to learn the tool yielded some new insight that I found beneficial. This is a conflict in which I am deeply intertwined and yet I have very little power. It was not surprising to me that most of the power was held in other people. It also was not especially surprising that I was able to name one particular place that I do hold power in this conflict: namely, with my team as I am now the director. Not a surprise… but a helpful naming. This naming of my sphere of influence so concretely helped me settle into a truth that I may have intellectually been able to name but did not fully grasp. In this conflict, I cannot change a lot. I don’t have a lot of power to effect change in the root sources of the conflict… but, I can pour energy into my team. I can control how I engage with them, how I guide our collective focus and energy, and how I step into leadership. 

This tool brought into focus some good truth: I could spend my time spinning my wheels about the conflict which would likely lead to no change, or I could refuse to give it even more power and direct my focus to using the power I hold well within my sphere of influence.

Can I be in conflict with someone I no longer see?

Am I in conflict with individuals or communities that run in different circles?

How might I stay open to repairing relationships while balancing this with the energy to be in the present relationships that I walk in each day?

I suppose the reality that I am asking these questions might indicate something stirring within and yet I also notice the need to discern how I use time and energy. When do I actively reengage with those from the past? How do I do this with open hands and an open heart that is truly rooted in love and not simply the desire to change this person? Is it ok to have a desire for the person to be encountered with a truth or new perspective I have experienced? Is it ok to let go of a relationship and move on in life?

Can conflict mapping be done without a context of regular relationship? Can it be applied to past conflict or just present relational conflicts?

Thoughts?

This was a mess that many have moved on from, and I don’t know if that is the healthy thing to do. We have had two different pastors at two different times cause havoc and each time the congregation and leaders just wanted to move on without spending any time reflecting on the conflict.  Sarah Bessey, in her book “Field Notes for the Wilderness: Practices for an Evolving Faith” says, ”The only way to begin healing is to acknowledge the wound. Stop pretending that your church didn’t break your heart. Stop saying it’s fine that you were betrayed. Stop excusing bad behavior and cruelty and carelessness. Until you learn to stop spiritually bypassing your actual life with your good humanness, you won’t find meaning, let alone healing.”

I have done a lot of healing in the past 3 years however I have come to realize that I always have my guard up when it comes to church.  And having that barricade has caused me to miss the deep spiritual connection that I crave from church.  The conflict mapping helped me to acknowledge the pain that came from that conflict three years ago which has nudged me into a deeper prayer life. Praying for my own heart, but also praying for the church in general, the specific church, and the pastor and his wife who caused and experienced so much pain (thanks Osheta for being the first to nudge me to do this!)

The conflict mapping also helped me to see how isolated the pastor and his wife (also a pastor) became in the process of the church trying to move forward once they left.  As the church tried to move ahead (because Sunday comes quickly and there needs to be a pastor) there was a lack of healthy conversation and a lot of spiritual bypassing.  The church leaders were ready to sweep it under the carpet and move ahead.  The church staff, members and the pastor (who had been beloved there for five years) deserved honest, healthy conversations.

I appreciate the tools that Michael Gibbs shared with us and I hope to utilize the Conflict Mapping and Pillars Analysis more so that I can become more proficient in seeing the conflict and having those dialogues for peaceful change.

What I took from this experience was the need for this deep listening time.   These people had been treated badly and needed healing…the team….how the evening went down….the final decision….and the subsequent “interim” time for this congregation was very well thought out and compassionately handled.

It occurred to me as I was drawing the map that the exercise of drawing and identifying the various emotions is – in itself – helpful to distance from the emotion of a conflict and begin to get a handle of how to proceed.  This situation was not especially complex – the Bishop had the final “say” in the decision, but it helped to see how it looked on paper.  This is a great tool – and might be good for personal relationships just as much as big organizations.

In our last meeting, Michael Gibbs introduced us to a relationship mapping tool. We were literally learning how to draw the “web of relationships.” Such a tool allows us to slow down, to ask deeper questions of connections, and see our context differently. Drawing my “web,” I could see where the both divisions and alliances exist and note my own relationship in or to the conflict. We can see who drives conflict, and who is working to overcome it. We notice power dynamics, and who is positioned to leverage power for peaceful outcomes.

Such an exercise can help us point to which relationships to focus on, and where points of influence or change are most likely to succeed.

I like the idea of placing our maps in front of the eyes of others. We can learn so much from a small group of trusted people in the community who can name our assumptions and potential blind spots.

As we’ve gone through the sessions about “othering” the Spirit has pricked me and opened my eyes to see how I am doing this just about every Sunday. My othering targets those who I think should “know better” because of what I assume is some shared base of beliefs and approaches to the world. I work in a leadership role in my congregation and in that capacity council frequently with leaders of the different organizations within our congregation. When someone expresses an opinion or idea that is different than mine, I become frustrated (most often internally, though sometimes it shows) and later am very dismissive of them in conversations with my wife or even other leaders. I look for reasons to “other” them, and dismiss their opinion and experience as not relevant. I feel justified in doing so because I’m clearly speaking on the side of the marginalized and forgotten – their view is just interested in preserving their comfort (tough to communicate the sarcasm here). What really opened my eyes to just how much I was doing this was when Ben McBride talked about being willing to step into another’s shoes, not to affirm or agree with their perspective, but to acknowledge it as lived human experience, and to take that as an invitation to be curious about where they are coming from. Rather than valuing their lived human experience, my desire for unity means I can dismiss them because they should know better (i.e. how I see it is clearly how Jesus meant it).

Perhaps two examples will help. One brother in the council is over 60 years old and is the only person in the room over 45. He has been in leadership in our congregation for 30 years and often seems perturbed by the younger and newer members of our council who don’t understand the history of the congregation. Recently in one conversation I asked a question about why we were continuing a particular program that didn’t seem aligned with our mission or the way that we were doing things in general. This particular program is designed for the older members of our congregation and he immediately jumped in with defense about why it was needed. He kept going and said something to the effect of “But if people want to just dismiss me and leave this group behind that is fine.” 

I was stung. I see myself as a voice on the council that speaks for inclusion and doing things to specifically benefit those people or groups who feel unseen or unheard. My question was in no way meant to dismiss the group or this brother. I felt attacked. I snapped back that I wasn’t trying to dismiss anyone but simply raising a question. The air was tense and the conversation moved on, but I did not.

I came up with all the reasons I didn’t need to listen to him. I told myself that he was throwing an emotional fit to get his way, that as an older white man from a profession that gives him standing and clout in our community and as a long standing leader in the congregation he was used to getting his way. I told myself that he is more interested in maintaining what was and what he is comfortable with because changing things or asking questions is too uncomfortable. I put myself in a position of moral superiority and found every reason and opportunity to “other” him. I realize I’ve done the same thing with others on the council.

In my desire to widen my circle of human concern – and to widen the circle of human concern within our congregation, I fear I’ve simply shifted it. It is embarrassing to admit, but I have felt justified in it because I’m speaking for progress, inclusivity, and truly loving people instead of programs. Instead of building bridges, or even using already existing bridges, I’ve isolated myself as a crank who can’t play nicely with others. I feel like I’ve lost voice and influence within the council and all of this leaves me feeling frustrated, angry, stressed, and ready to give it up.

I recognize that I could build bridges with this brother, and others, and they may not want to cross them. I may “do everything right” and still end up frustrated, angry, and stressed. I’m realizing that, at least for me and my discipleship, the result isn’t the most important. This is God’s church, His work, and His children and He will make things right. How I show up in these councils and conversations will do a lot more to carry His light and love then what I specifically do. I guess what I mean is that what you do is important – it is our work to reconcile and try to make things right. But we are so limited in our understanding and abilities – especially when compared to God! – that our contribution is largely HOW we show up. Do we show up with love? Or do we show up to be right? When I try to be right or certain is when I other people. When I show up with love and curiosity, I widen my circle of human concern and invite others to do the same.

I don’t like to think of myself as a person who “others” my neighbors. I like to think of myself as a person who is open and inclusive—as a person who really lives into that story from Acts 8 where the Ethiopian eunuch asks Philip what is keeping him from being baptized, and Philip baptizes him. I’d like to believe that I embody the sower in the parable of the sower in the gospel of Matthew—that I indiscriminately throw out seeds—regardless of the soil in which those seeds are landing. And yet, that isn’t true. I “other” people, and frankly, I “other” people for the truly stupidest reason. There is nothing noble or justice-y about my othering. I “other” people when their values or actions or words come into conflict with mine because I am super conflict averse and I want my relationships to be easy, and it is more comfortable for me to “other” people and to pull away from them than it is for me to get curious and to draw closer to them.

As I have reflected on this bothersome truth, I think that the lie that I have been telling myself is that in doing this, I am drawing boundaries. I have fooled myself into believing that I am not “othering” people by pushing them away because there are things about them that are problematic or harmful, and that I am just trying to protect myself or others. The thing is, though, that there is a difference between harm and discomfort, and most of the time, when I “other” people, it is not because they have actually harmed me. It is because I am uncomfortable. It is because I seem to think that peace is an absence of conflict, when actually, it is a transforming of conflict, and a working through of conflict. So, that’s part of my challenge. To expand my circle of human concern, I must stop trying to escape from conflict, and I must learn how to enter into it.

I shared with my peer group that last week, I had a conversation with a pastor at another church in the town where I work regarding a billboard that they had up for “Bible Bootcamp” VBS. The billboard had guns and tanks and soldiers and all of this military imagery that I found troubling. My first thought was to complain about the sign to my more like-minded pastor friends—to further draw that divide between “us” and “them”—or to put something about how theologically incorrect it was on social media. Instead, I decided to enter into the conflict and my discomfort about it and to attempt to put some of what we have been learning into action. I emailed the church’s pastor and asked him questions about why “Bible Bootcamp” appealed to the church, and what the military imagery meant to them.

The conversation that we had was good. It didn’t change any minds, but it gave me a better understanding of where the church was coming from. He also seemed to appreciate that I shared my concerns without crapping all over him. It felt like a bridge building moment, and I am super excited about it, because it so easily could have been an “othering” moment. Truthfully, it was almost an “othering” moment, and only wasn’t because of JOH. I have no illusions that I am suddenly going to become a successful bridge builder because I did it one time, but I am hopeful that perhaps, “othering” will become less and less of a reflex as I keep pushing myself to get comfortable with conflict. I think that God is on the move in my heart.

I identify with the “disoriented” descriptor because—in many ways—white Christian nationalism still disorients me. Having grown up in a denomination where most people refuse to say the pledge of allegiance, I find myself utterly confused when I meet Christians who revere the flag as if God Himself created it. I still find myself thrown totally off-guard when people start talking about the United States as if it is a new Israel or pull scripture out of context and try to apply it to the United States. I know that all of this is a thing. Despite all of the consciousness of the dangers of mixing Jesus and country in the Quaker church, I still see it happen, so I am mentally aware of it. But it surprises me every single time.

“Deconstructing” also resonates with me because I think that I am very much still in the process of shedding some of this ideology from my life and faith. Something that I struggle with is inappropriate caretaking. Growing up, it was always my job—as the oldest sister—to mother my siblings. When my husband began to struggle with alcoholism in the early years of our marriage, I fell into the role of mothering him. And unfortunately, I sometimes bring this energy into my other relationships. I think I know what is best for everyone, and that is very much—in addition to weird family dynamics and response to trying to save my husband—a product of white Christian nationalism. I have to work very hard to pull myself back when I feel this tendency and others coming up. I almost wonder if I will always be deconstructing this, to a certain extent.

Some next steps for me are to keep learning and to keep disentangling. Also, however, I think that a big next step for me lies in that concept of being that we have been talking so much about. I have to keep reminding myself that I am beloved, and so is everyone else. I have to keep allowing God’s love and grace to be the thing that humbles me, guides me, and girds me.

The misinformation campaigns of the big tobacco industry in the 70’s came with a high personal cost, with my father’s premature death from disease resulting from tobacco addiction.  Misinformation about sustainable agricultural practices has led to degradation of soil – the essential skin of our planet. Misinformation through the greenwashing of big oil has huge implications for climate change.  All are alive and well today through mainstream news media, social media, and government policy decisions. 

Over the last two years, Covid misinformation has been evident, with governments saying one thing and other “experts” opposing, with each side adamant they are “right”.  We saw this divide lived out in Canada a few months back, as the truckers convoy literally paralyzed our nation’s capital for weeks as protestors parked their large trucks blocking city streets, blew air horns for several hours a day, flew flags with crude messages, and harassed residents wearing masks. The stated reason for the protest was to oppose covid health regulations, including mask wearing, but in Canada health regulations are set by provincial, not federal governments.  Ottawa does not make the health rules.  Ultimately, the protest was deemed a national security threat, special measures were enacted to enable police to end the protest, and protest leaders were arrested.  Was this in fact a protest to protect the freedoms of Canadians, or was it an attempt to overthrow the sitting government? What roles does misinformation play in creating such polarizing divides? How do we move beyond the reality that has been magnified throughout our time of covid – one person’s misinformation is another’s God given truth? How do we move to a place of respectful dialogue and a mutual working together?

Knowing people on both sides of the covid divide, I can clearly see the influence of social media in misinformation campaigns – not only through the effects of algorithms and echo chambers but also through Clare’s assertions that Russian troll farms fuel conflict in both directions. But misinformation is also alive and well through the mergers of mainstream media providers into a few, concentrated corporate entities with great influence over what stories become news and how those stories are told. How do we bridge divides resulting from these outside influences?  How do we find truth?  What are the effects of these divides on our collective souls, and how does that impact us moving forward?

In the end, I am left with more questions than answers.