Rebuilding bridges

Recently I had an argument with someone very dear to me in our church. For me, it began as an intellectual argument over a point of principle (whether there is any place at all for Halloween celebrations within the church or, at the very least, within the life of a Christian, and what part these celebrations can and should play within the life of a child). However, it quickly acquired a dimension that went beyond the intellectual and engaged me to the very core, affecting me in more ways than I had anticipated, and which certainly went beyond the intellectual. I was so incensed that I felt I had to make my position clear in writing (see link here). Now, after thinking about it for a long time, I think there was a lot left to be said.

As long as it is sensitively and successfully resolved, conflict can be a great opportunity for learning, and this has certainly been the case for me.

My learning has been, first and foremost, about myself:

• I have been reminded how important it is for me to belong, and to feel that my needs matter. This is no surprise; the Austrian psychotherapist Alfred Adler believed that the need for belonging and significance is a basic human need, and that social context is crucial for the understanding of all individuals. I am entirely in agreement with these arguments , and my own experience has reminded me of their truth. I wanted to belong both to my church, and to my peer group; however, by attempting to bring together these two distinct worlds, I was attempting to superimpose two social contexts, and with my blinkers on, I refused to see that such a superimposition is not always advisable, or even possible.
• I have also been reminded that, when it comes to my children, I will do whatever is necessary, even enter conflict head on if I feel I have to. Whether this be provision, protection, or a mere frivolity that would matter to them (as in this instance, a party with her friends, arguably not the most important thing in the world…), I will do whatever it takes. However, I have learned that the battering ram approach is not always the most appropriate, that certain avenues are best left unexplored, and certain battles not worth instigating.
• Finally, I have also learned just how far I have come over the last few years, and how much I have learned from being a parent, and from doing my utmost to be a better one. My initial response, both in writing and in the interminable ranting that my poor husband was exposed to, was as much a reflective as it was a reactive one. Not only was I keen to express my firm beliefs, even if, or precisely because I knew these were views of dissension, but because I had felt personally rejected and attacked in my parenting approach, as well as in my very thinking, I reacted in the way that would have been my norm a few years ago: I determined to walk away in a huff and refused to engage in any further discussion. But, because I am no longer that person, or at least not entirely, I did not stay in that place, and was able to emerge from it.

Secondly, my learning also involves others:

• I have have been reminded once again how invaluable the support and prayer of friends can be. I must have given off a very negative vibe, because two very dear friends felt it important to coach me and coax me out of my prickly state, refusing to let me persist in my withdrawal. Although I would have probably come around on my own eventually, their love and support made this happen a lot sooner, and for that, I could not be more grateful.
• I have also been reminded that, when we are part of a community, we are never alone, and we do belong, and (as one my lovely and very wise friends put it) even if views might not be able to be reconciled, individuals can. What I had failed to acknowledge in the heat of that first moment was precisely how poignant this conflict was on a personal and emotional level, as well as on the intellectual one. My response was not only intellectual, but personal and out of a place of hurt, and my deliberate act of writing — tantamount to shutting myself off and pulling up the bridge over the moat of my white marble tower — could have led to the breaking of a relationship as well. However, both thanks to my friends, and to the very person with whom the conflict occurred, this very distressful potential consequence was averted before it could have any real impact.

Finally, I have also learned a few things that I want to pass on to my daughter, and also eventually to my son (of course, not directly, because they are too little yet, but through all we do together, and through our conversations):

• I want them to always be brave enough to speak her mind, even if this does mean standing against the current or coming across as a bit of a maverick. I am not apologetic for having spoken out and expressed my views, and I would like to think that my arguments will trigger some further thinking and discussion, as well as help to refine the thinking on the matter.
• However, I want them to be sensitive to others and to find the most appropriate way of making their voice heard. Diplomacy is more effective than aggression, and I would like to hope that reason will always prevail over brute force (be this even force of the verbal sort).
• Finally, I want them to learn to talk through conflict of any sort: whether they has brought this about themselves or not, I want them to learn to listen, to think, to be with the other and to agree to disagree if necessary. I want them to be aware of difference and to accept it, instead of trying to iron it out at all costs or to shut themselves away if they cannot cope with it.

Ultimately, though, the intellectual argument, with whatever it might have sparked for the future, is unimportant. What matters most is forgiveness.  Of course we cannot all think the same way or agree on every point of detail — the world would be too boring if we did. But the beauty of the church (my church, and to my mind, that’s how it should be with the whole world) is that we can hold different views, while still holding each other, we can be different and yet still love. And, even if our bridges might be temporarily pulled up, faith, prayer and love ensure that they are never truly broken.