Love Me, Confront Me

Matthew 18:15-20

Several nights ago, I attended my daughter’s middle school open house. After welcoming everyone, the principal highlighted a few school rules and principles of behavior. One of them sounded very much like Matthew 18:15-17. He said, “If you have a problem with a teacher, start with the teacher. If you have a problem with me, don’t go to Barbara Darden.” Everyone laughed. Of course, Ms. Darden is the superintendent of our school district— and his boss.

A fundamental principle of law is that everyone has the right to be confronted by his accuser. And yet, as we relate to people, we regularly deny them that right:

• We find it easier to embrace our false perception of people rather than to seek the truth.
• We find it easier to make assumptions about them rather than to seek clarification.
• We find it easier to say behind people’s backs what we can’t bring ourselves to say to their faces.
• We find it easier to murmur with others who have a critical and complaining spirit rather than to quietly refuse complicity in a conversation that could tear another person down.

We forget that Satan is “the accuser of the brethren” (Revelation 12:10) and that by accusing others we are agreeing with a demonic assessment of them. And so, other people are wounded, relationships broken, hope deferred, God’s Spirit grieved, and lives altered forever.

I wonder how different our lives might be if we lived by the standard of 1 Corinthians 13:4—7 or Romans 13:10. Maybe we would begin to fulfill the scriptural admonition to love one another at all times, not just when it is easy or convenient. And by first loving people, maybe our assumptions would be positive, our tone gentle, and our goal redemptive for others and ourselves.

I want to know, can you love me when I disappoint you? Can you see my strengths and not be blinded by my weaknesses? And when you point out the piece of sawdust in my eye, will you be able to see the beam of timber in your own (Matthew 7:3)? This is how God’s people live in community.

If we have anything against anyone, especially a brother or sister in the faith, we have the obligation before God to approach them alone, aware of our own faults and being willing to receive correction like we are prepared to give it. None of us is perfect; all of us need one another’s help to be made whole and useful for God’s purposes. As Proverbs says, “Iron sharpens iron” (Proverbs 27:17). It might not always feel good, but it may be necessary, and it can only happen when the two of us come together in love and truth.

Finally, be aware that loving another person in the Spirit of Christ might mean leaving him alone. Maybe his dull edge won’t receive sharpening. If you can’t say something to a person because he is unapproachable, don’t say it to anyone else behind his back. As a co-laborer with Christ, trust in God’s grace and let the Lord help him if that is possible.

I have a feeling my daughter’s principal would appreciate that.

–Don Kimball

Resounding Gongs and Clanging Cymbals

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)

My family visited a church this morning. In fact, we were the only visitors in the small congregation—evident from the surprised and effusively warm welcome we received upon walking in the door. This is a church that evidently isn’t accustomed to having many visitors. At the appointed time for the worship service, most of the seats in the nearly dark room were empty and no one else entered the church to fill them.

A few minutes late, the band emerged from a hidden door at the back of the stage, took their positions, and launched into the first song as lights flooded the stage in the dark, smoky room. The music was so painfully loud and sonically distorted that it was impossible to discern the melody with certainty or to enter into worship. Even my teenage son said so. He’s a bass player and knows something about sound systems and balancing sound with mixers.

Off to one side of the stage, a woman danced zestfully to the beat of the drums, skipping and swaying and leaping while waving a large Star of David attached to a flowing banner that shimmered and glittered in the light. Backlight from the stage made her long white skirt semi-transparent, revealing that she was wearing white shorts or granny panties underneath. It was hard to tell. King David danced in his underwear (2 Samuel 6:14), so maybe this was just the latest worship trend. We’ll all be dancing in our underwear soon. It could be a great new evangelistic tool. Think of the unbelievers who would come to watch and then hear the gospel and get saved….

After the band played about three songs, and while the music continued, the hefty senior pastor strode forward with a swagger, took hold of a microphone and began exhorting the crowd to worship. Within ten or fifteen minutes, he segued into a pre-sermon address about faith coming by hearing the word of God (Romans 10:17). He said this was something God had given him that morning before eating his breakfast cereal (amazing self-control for such a well-fed man!). Pacing back and forth on the floor in front of the stage, he then bounded up the stairs and down again, and—impressively—even stood on a chair in the front row that was able to endure his massive weight. He waved his arms, shouted at us and leapt to the floor, strutting to and fro while he continued shouting incessant biblical insights and exhortations to the congregation over the near deafening music.

Within another ten or fifteen minutes, his audience had been overwhelmed by the musical fusillade and beaten into submission by the sound of his voice. They were ready to heed his call to come meet the Lord. So, waving an arm in the air, he commanded everyone forward to worship at the altar. Most people complied. We stood by our seats along with about a dozen elderly people and young children who were some distance away. And the band played on while people cried out, and some—at his instruction—got down on their knees to seek God. Noticing my family standing alone, he looked directly at us—and, uncomfortably, right at me—and said something like, “…and I’m sensing from God that there are visitors here this morning who don’t know Jesus. Now is your time! There is a place here at the altar for you! Come to God and get saved!” Great. We’d been “outed” in front of the entire church. He might as well have redirected a spotlight on us.

Of course, if God had really been speaking to him, God would have told him that I began my life as a born again Christian at the age of 18. Since that time, I have followed Christ and continued to seek and serve him. I have been ordained many years and served in various churches in several ministry areas. My salvation and call to ministry are beyond question. In fact, I have personally explained the gospel to hundreds of people who have received Christ. But the pastor knew only that we were resisting his appeal to come forward and—thus—must certainly be resisting God for salvation. Of course, it could have been the way I was dressed. My yellow gingham shirt was tucked neatly into British khaki slacks, both from Brooks Brothers. In contrast, the preacher’s portly frame was concealed by a black untucked shirt that had a large iron-on transfer on the back and that, by now, was soaked with sweat. It’s easy to see why I looked like such a sinner.

Having stood for about forty-five minutes by this time, we sat down and waited on the show to end. The word “show” aptly describes the superficial scene we had been observing. The pastor’s showmanship was a poor knockoff of bad Pentecostal evangelists. He had learned some mannerisms and techniques for whipping up a crowd. But his manipulative approach was an unappealing substitute for the genuinely convicting presence of the Holy Spirit. He was so full of himself that he had no room left for Jesus.

At about the time when all this was running through my brain, my wife leaned over and shouted into my ear over the racket that she was thinking of leaving, which was pretty interesting. Because about two minutes later, while the pastor continued spewing his virtually unintelligible spiritual insights on Elijah and Romans, he said, “And listen to me, people, if you’re not feeling God’s presence right now you need to get up and walk out the door.” It was the only thing he said that spoke to me. We weren’t feeling God’s presence, so we did. We got up and walked out the door. We didn’t want to stay for his regularly scheduled sermon—which hadn’t yet started. The appetizer had left a bitter aftertaste that unsettled our stomachs. It was time to go.

What made our experience especially sad was that the pastor’s denomination has been especially effective at reaching unchurched people with the Gospel and growing churches. Admittedly, he is not the best representative of his fellow clergy. But it is still a wonder to me that any preacher could be so evidently devoid of God’s love that he would substitute for authentically anointed ministry nothing but a “resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”

Preacher, I don’t care how much noise you can make. I don’t care how you can manipulate a crowd. Assuming your doctrine is biblically solid, all I care about is whether you have God’s love in you and that you are showing it to me. If you don’t and aren’t, you have shown me nothing and you will gain nothing of eternal value. You won’t see me back at your church.

Find a Better Shepherd

Question from a Friend

I have a question for you. I am asking because I trust your opinion. I was at a store to buy groceries. The staff was working on Easter displays, but many of the shelves where bare. There were no eggs, cottage cheese, sour cream, or cheese. As I was walking through the store, I noticed a manager and another associate so I told them that the management needs to spend more time stocking shelves and less time on their Easter display.

The associate, a member of my church, complained to my pastor. My pastor called me late that night, at 9:45pm, and verbally attacked me over the phone. He said that I behaved poorly and was a poor representation of the church. I was not displaying Christlike characteristics.

The thing is, though, I was very polite in the store and never raised my voice to the associate or manager. I just stated my complaint. I feel that I have done nothing wrong. I told my pastor that if the associate took my comment personally, I apologize. Nothing in my complaint was directed at her.

Two days later, my wife and I had a meeting with the pastor and church leadership. The attack started almost immediately after we sat down. I listened for awhile and then I stated that I could not submit any longer to the pastor’s authority. We terminated our leadership position and left the church.

This was not the first attack we received from the pastor. I felt as if the bonds of trust where broken and that I no longer could trust him to lead. Do you think I should have handled this differently? Or do you think I should have stayed in the church?

My Response

I appreciate the confidence you have in me. I hope my response lives up to that.

First, your initial comment might have come across in a manner other than you intended. You said, “the management needs to spend more time stocking shelves and less time on their Easter display.” This might have sounded judgmental and condemning to the sales associate. Whatever the management does is really up to them, however it might affect their business. And sales associates are hired to do whatever the store manager wants, even if it is setting up an Easter display when they should be stocking shelves. A less confrontational comment might have been, “I see you’re busy working on the Easter display. Do you have someone who could help me find the eggs?”

Second, regarding your role in the situation, I’ve found that, even when the other person is largely at fault, an apology from me can help defuse a potentially explosive situation. I’m not always aware how I’m coming across to someone else and I don’t have the ability to read their mind or know their heart like God does. This means that either of us might make false assumptions about the other person’s intent based upon things as subtle as facial appearance or vocal inflection.

Several weeks ago, a woman in the church confronted me harshly over a song that was planned, but that I didn’t have the congregation sing. We were simply out of time. But the song had special meaning for her and she demanded, “I want to know why you didn’t have the congregation sing that song!” My apology brought the intensity of the situation down several notches and helped me avoid what would have been a much more difficult confrontation later. She walked away feeling satisfied. I walked away feeling intimidated and angry about her attitude, but relieved that I still had my job. I learned later that the song was sung at her mother’s funeral.

The Biblical principle here is that “a soft [gentle] word turns away wrath [anger].” By responding gently, we bring the intensity of the situation down a few notches where, eventually, we can all talk about it rationally.

Having said all this, you seemingly offered an appropriate apology. You said, “if the associate took my comment personally, I apologize.” This apology might have influenced the situation more positively had you offered it to the sales associate.

Third, sometimes my opinions aren’t worth sharing. This is because the other person might have an equally valid opinion, or because I might not have enough information to form a correct opinion, or because the other person might not have what Jesus called “ears to hear” the truth. In situations like yours, generally, I’ve found that I should wait a day before expressing my opinion to the person. This gives me time to think it through and to assess whether addressing the situation is a good idea. A question to ask is, “Is this a hill worth fighting for and dying on?” A short postponement also gives me time to share the situation with my wife and to get her opinion. She’s a pretty good judge of whether I need to address it or just let it go.

Fourth, regarding the associate’s role, it appears as though she overreacted and handled the situation improperly. She felt offended by your comment and should have talked to you about it, rather than report you to a higher authority. The senior pastor’s first words to the church member should have been something like this, “According to scripture you need to talk to West first, before involving anyone else—including me. Have you done that?” When the pastor responds as this one did, he is acting as the policeman of the church, enforcing the rule of law rather than taking the pastoral role of a mediator and healer. He violated the same principle when he confronted you the second time before an audience of church leaders.

Fifth, there are times when a pastor does have to confront people. No matter how gentle his words, his firmness might come across as unyielding and unreasonable—even when it is biblical and warranted. I didn’t personally observe any of these encounters, so I don’t know the extent to which your perception of the situation conforms to the pastor’s actual approach.

Finally, you should probably find another church. Your attitude or words were partly responsible for the situation. But this situation, and apparently others, was not handled well by the senior pastor. No pastor should ever make a member of his flock feel “attacked.” Such an affront from him can do nothing but break “the bonds of trust” that you have in him. If you can’t trust him to lead you, mentor you, and care for you, then you should find another flock with a better shepherd.