The Ick Factor

I stole this title from an episode of "Sex and the City," which I've been watching regularly since receiving the box set for my birthday. (Side note: yippee!) But it applies to something altogether different than Carrie Bradshaw's typical problem.

I posted awhile ago about a former staff member who is angry that her position was, to be blunt, eliminated in a consolidation of all the part-time music positions into one full-time position. You can guess that this is unlikely to be a painless process, and that is most certainly true in our case. One position was vacant at the time; one person was glad to give up her temporary position; and two others were, shall we say, cranky about the whole thing.

So, long - extremely long - story short, this staff person wrote a letter to me and to the council, and we talked about it, and tonight we met with her and some council members and two people from our staff support committee. And it was pretty much as ugly as I had thought. Ick.

It occurred to me that the reading from last week's lectionary epistle assignment was particularly apropos for the night, so we started off with that: "for we have been entrusted with the message of reconciliation." Easier said than done.

No need to go into the details of it. It is enough to say that the meeting accomplished its most basic goal: to make sure that she was heard, both for her own sake and for the sake of the church leadership, who now cannot be accused of ignoring her. She said some fairly inappropriate things, including a crack about my age ("I was doing this job when you were in high school") which were hurtful, and I'm thankful that I and the church leadership did not respond in kind. Even though I REALLY REALLY wanted to. There are some honest things I wanted to say to her that I didn't, only because it felt like speaking at the time would make the whole situation worse. Consequently, however, I'm left with the sneaking suspicion that we took on more responsibility for the situation than we deserved, and she left without hearing how her actions had hurt a lot of people too. As you can see, I don't think that real, true reconciliation is coming anytime soon. But, on the other hand, it's never possible to rule it out entirely.

Now I'm left with the ick factor: that feeling after a conflict that makes you want to drink a glass of wine, or take a shower, or possibly both at the same time, if you can accomplish that. This too shall heal. I'm glad we did what we did. But it was icky, for lack of a better theological term. And I hope we can all start to move on.

The very greatest gift in all this was handed to me two nights ago by a most unexpected council member. After reading the letter sent by said staff member, the council sat in silence for a moment. One person said something. And then another person, the kind of person whose face is very hard to read, and who seems to support me at one moment and then not the next, said something like this: "Well, Pastor, I hope you don't think this is your fault. Your job here is to preach and teach and we need to handle the adminstrative stuff, and it's not fair for you to get thrown under the bus just because you're up in the front." He kept going for a little while, and I thanked him both then and afterward, but all he really needed to say was the first bit: "I hope you don't think this is your fault." Actually, I can be somewhat objective and think of some things I could have done differently. But I felt a load rise off my shoulders when he spoke. Every Sunday I speak the words of absolution to the congregation, and I love doing that, but it also means that I very rarely hear them spoken to me. He gave me that, and it is no small gift. So there are some non-ick factors here too.

It will be better in the morning - it always is. But, O gracious and forgiving God, heal your church in every place. Mend our wounds, self-inflicted and otherwise. Curb our pride. Teach us to speak honestly and at the right time. How often we hurt each other because we are suffering, and know not what else to do. Loosen our hands and hearts to let go of grudges, to forgive one another, to see a good future ahead. And, if possible, O God, hurry up about it. Amen.