Facing Into The Wind

Martha Hodges - 2005-11-27

Facing Into the Wind
Nov. 27, 2005

‘Tis the season of goodwill and family togetherness. As we all know, these are sometimes mutually exclusive phenomena. Family togetherness, in excess, especially when combined with alcohol, tends to stir up a lot of long-held grudges and mutual disappointments. Thanksgiving and Christmas have been known, on occasion, to end in tears, insults and accusations, hurt feelings, screaming fights and even violence. Brought together after prolonged absences, family members may choose these holidays to pick at old scabs or to finally set each other straight about one another’s more annoying habits. So it is fitting that we talk today about conflict -- when it is not only acceptable, but positively healthy, and when, on the contrary, it is destructive or even ruinous.

Some people are born fighters. They are not necessarily good fighters, mind you. They don’t always fight fair. They tend to be gracious in neither defeat nor victory. These are the mercenaries and bullies of the world; they are often also the heroes; the ones that make things happen. They jump into the fray without regard for their safety, confident, inspired by the rightness of their cause, whether that cause be social justice or self-interest. I am not one of these people.

Other people are true pacifists. Some people seem to exist on a higher plane; from this elevated point of view, dissension seems a sacrilege; others avoid conflict at all costs because of an overweening fear. I’m not one of these, either. Chances are, neither are you.

Now, Unitarian Universalists have a reputation, among themselves, of being conflict-averse. Of being so concerned with being “nice” that they let conflicts fester for years rather than name them and deal with them openly. I have heard this self-accusation many times. We know that conflict that is left unnamed and unresolved is likely to pop us in some other form, over and over -- whether it be in our personal or family lives or in a larger community such as, say, a congregation.

Now, I have to say that this excessive concern with niceness, with keeping a veneer of compatibility firmly intact, concealing a real mess underneath -- this is not consistent with my observations of UU congregations! I have seen plenty of open conflict, not to say warfare, in some of our churches. But it is probably true that we tend to not do conflict well. When a problem assumes such destructive proportions, we are not managing conflict; it is managing us. And it may even be true that we are conflict-averse if we consider that the majority of the members in such a congregation stay safely on the sidelines, refusing to rein in those who may be abusive or destructive in the way they disagree with others.

The majority of us humans are neither pacifist saints nor heroes nor warriors. We need a little help in learning how to manage conflict in a constructive manner. For us, life is a series of decisions about whether to resist or submit to the will of others. We mostly decide on a case by case basis whether to fight for our point of view, our interests or our ideals, or to simply stand aside and accept whatever decision or course of action others have chosen for us. Why -- and how -- do we make the choices that we do? We have our reasons, of course, but more often than not, our reasons remain unclear, even to ourselves. Here we are, we middle-of-the roaders -- gifted with the luxury of choice, yet all too often unaware of what personal imperatives guide our behavior when it comes to engaging in conflict.

Most often, our choices are determined not by our ideals, but by our emotions. It isn’t hard to understand the emotions that drive us to fight: anger, a will to dominate, a sense of mission, a conviction that we have been wronged. But, given that many of us -- perhaps most of us -- are reluctant to face down our opponents, it’s important to look at the emotions that keep us quiescent in situations that threaten our rights or our sense of morality.

Fear -- this is the emotion that we would rather not name, but that motivates many of us when it comes to conflict. And what are we afraid of? So many things! Afraid of being shamed, of losing face, of looking foolish when our arguments prove inadequate. Afraid of being ostracized, attacked, or of attracting attention when our views differ from those of the majority. Afraid of having to act on our beliefs, to make some sacrifice of status, peace of mind, or safety. Afraid that we won’t know what to do, that we may fail, or that we may be too effective and find that our anger has a truly destructive effect on our relationships with those we care about. There are many excellent reasons to remain quiet and let other folks duke it out.

But is this who we really want to be in our personal relationships and communities? I know I don’t. And learning how to manage conflict in my life, neither running from it nor engaging in it unnecessarily, is an ongoing challenge. I believe that it is a challenge for this congregation, as well -- as it is for any community. Conflict is inevitable whenever two or more people gather together. The question is, will we pretend it isn’t there and thereby forfeit any hope of controlling it? Will we fight our fears by fighting with one another, creating damage that may never heal? Or will we work with it, becoming stronger and more honest as individuals and as communities. If we choose the latter course, how are we to go about it?

For people who are faithful to one of the world’s major religious traditions, there are authorities -- sacred texts and spiritual leaders -- that may help them know what to do when a spouse or a child lets them down, when coworkers disrespect them, or when fellow citizens or civic leaders act in ways that they consider immoral. These texts -- the Hebrew Bible, the Christian Gospels, or the Koran -- contain contradictory admonitions, to be sure. For the serious thinker, it can’t be easy to know the will of God, but at least such believers have faith that God is present in the world and is working His will through his instruments, his human creations. God will have the last word in any conflict. Justice will ultimately prevail, if not in this life, then in the next.

For most of us Unitarian Universalists, even those of us who believe in God, there is no such authority to consult or appeal to in our confusion about the right thing to do when facing opposition, ill treatment or injustice.

And what about Eastern religious traditions? Might we find more help here? Well, yes and no. Those of us who believe in reincarnation will agree with Hindu and Buddhist traditions that teach that every creature, including every human, possesses a spirit that is evolving. They are all striving toward the same goal of enlightenment and, as such, command compassion in our dealings with them. On the other hand, these religions are full of ambiguities, just as are our monotheistic ones. One need only look at Gandhi or the contemporary Buddhist teacher, Thich Nhat Hahn, to find proof that Eastern religions are not necessarily fatalistic or passive when it comes to injustice, despite the Hindu and Buddhist admonition to detach from earthly outcomes. And we need only look at the history of Asia to see that compassion and the commitment not to harm other living creatures do not always rule the devout in the East any more than they do in the West. East or West, the teachings of the world’s great religions are full of ambiguities and are often interpreted -- not to say distorted -- to suit the interests of their adherents.

So we turn to theories of human behavior, psychology, sociology, political science or history for guidance. We rely on our reason to choose the most efficacious response -- or, at least, we would like to. Chances are, in most cases, we react to threats to our safety, or dignity, or well being the same way most people do, by instinct and emotion. But when we do have the luxury of reflection, the time and distance to make a reasoned response, we are pretty much on our own.

In our individualist search for truth, to what or to whom can Unitarian Universalists turn for guidance about what behavior is not merely efficacious, but morally right? What is the best way to act in a situation of conflict -- when someone’s goals or values or desires are at odds with our own? This is a religious question as well as a practical one, even for Unitarian Universalists.

Let’s take a look at the Covenant -- the seven principles -- that theoretically provide guidance when we are faced with moral questions -- including those having to do with how we respond to conflict. What, if anything, can they offer us when we are confused about the right thing to do -- when we must decide if, when, and how to fight? How are we called to respond in the family, workplace, community -- or for that matter -- in this congregation, when confronted with unacceptable behavior, or by someone else’s suggestion that our own behavior leaves something to be desired? As with other ethical questions, it behooves us to look for the religious underpinnings of our choices.

Well, let’s see. We covenant to affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every person. We believe this because, among other reasons, we believe in our own worth and dignity. If we affirm and promote our own dignity and our own worth, are we not called to defend ourselves when these are threatened? But what if we can’t do this without lessening someone else’s comfort and well-being? Well, comfort and well-being are not the same as worth and dignity. Should it not be possible to stand up for ourselves and to assert our needs and opinions without denigrating those of the other person? Yes. We can, in fact, defend our own beliefs and rights without vilifying the other.

If we grant that others have a right to their opinions -- to their own search for truth and meaning -- and if we determine to understand why they feel as they do, we are more likely to treat them with compassion and respect. To differ with them without seeking to make them feel small or defeated. We can -- indeed we must, if we truly respect the other -- we must challenge them when we think they are mistaken. Not to do so is to act as though they have no potential for change -- that they are not worth the bother or the temporary discomfort of compassionate confrontation -- that they are a lost cause.

It’s all in how we confront, or respond to confrontation. This is a demanding practice -- a spiritual discipline, if you will -- to teach ourselves not to assume unworthy motives on the part of the other. It is a spiritual discipline to notice when our own motives have more to do with a desire to control the other than to reach a mutual understanding.

To deal with others with justice, equity and compassion. This demands wisdom and judgment. Compassion often seems at odds with justice and equity, doesn’t it? But these concepts are reconcilable if we understand compassion as not necessarily acceding to another’s wishes. Compassion may instead demand that we make the difficult choice to resist one person’s wishes in the interest of longer-term or more generalized benefits.

And how are we to know what is just and equitable? We would do well to practice some humility, remembering that others are as convinced that they know what is just and equitable as we are. If we can search for common ground, if we can keep peeling back the onion until we find some core of common understanding, a conversation can begin. Conflict, engaged in with an honest desire to find a solution rather than to win, can open up communication like nothing else. Conflict without this sincere search for common goals and the willingness to accept that we may not hold the only valid point of view has the opposite effect. It reduces or even eliminates true communication. We see this in families, in congregations -- and between nations. When one party feels he or she has a corner on the truth, reconciliation is impossible to achieve. We may defeat the weaker party, but there will be no true peace.

Acceptance of one another and encouragement of one another’s spiritual growth -- our third principle -- presents yet another seemingly thorny contradiction. If we truly accept others, how can we encourage them to grow -- that is, to change? How can we accept a person and want him or her to change at the same time? This is indeed a problem if the change we wish to see in the other is to make them more like us. But if we are able to let go of the illusion that we can control another’s growth and are willing to stand back and honor whatever spiritual path that person chooses, the contradiction resolves itself. We’d do well to remember that our idea of “growth” may not be the same as someone else’s.

How difficult this is to do, though! How difficult to relinquish the conviction that our religious and ethical beliefs, or non-beliefs, do not justify a stance of intellectual or moral superiority. As Unitarian Universalists, we have a history of preaching religious tolerance. We also have an unattractive tendency to belittle the religious beliefs of others, especially of the orthodox of whatever religion. We are called to accept not only other UUs, but the fundamentalists of this world, whatever their stripe. No, we are not called to accept the validity of their beliefs, but are we not called to accept their right to hold them? Must we not accept the integrity of their quest, for better or worse, without dismissing those who hold these convictions as crazy, stupid, or evil? It is important -- and very difficult -- not to confuse the belief with the believer.

If we can master this within our own congregations, we can all be the richer for it. We can begin to engage in genuine theological discussions that challenge us -- that do, in fact, encourage one another’s spiritual growth -- but do not divide us or permit us to attack each other. Discussions without winners or losers. This is an ideal to strive for, and one that our faith uniquely demands that we work to achieve. No other religion welcomes theological dissent within its ranks as we do, and yet we shy away from such conversations, afraid that they will result in destructive conflict. Disagreement is not conflict, after all, unless a mean-spirited, competitive, winner-take all mentality makes it so.

In the next several months, I will be asking you to think about how you want this congregation to manage conflict. Several members attended a district workshop on this subject this fall and I am working with them to develop a proposal that includes creating a covenant of behavior and a system for facilitating disputes. My hope is that MVUUF will emerge from this interim period more confident in its ability to live with inevitable differences. More confident that conflict, well-managed, can actually help it to grow numerically, structurally and spiritually. To witness for both justice and compassion.

Change is hard, on a personal level and on a congregational level. It causes a lot of anxieties and anxieties often find expression in conflict. And yet change happens whether we want it or not. An interim period between settled ministers is, by definition, a time of many changes and, therefore, a time of many potential conflicts. May you pick your battles wisely, and when you must fight, may you fight fair. If you cannot reach a common ground and end up dissatisfied with the outcome of a disagreement, may you accept this graciously and remain engaged and committed to each other.

My hope for you -- and for that matter, for me, as your interim minister -- is that we will not seek peace at the expense of integrity, or self-affirmation at the expense of another’s right to the same. May empathy moderate our differences. May trust in one another allow us the courage of our convictions. And may we heed the words of our Universalist forefather, Hosea Ballou: “If we agree in love, there is no disagreement that can do us any injury, but if we do not, no other agreement can do us any good.” May just such a love guide us as we move into the future together.