Guilt and Change

       After all these years, I still make a lot of mistakes.  Within the last two months I've made two errors that I felt were rather large in my role as Co-Moderator of SF Presbytery.  The first one happened at a Presbytery meeting that went 3 hours longer than planned.  We have a number of minister and elder members of our Presbytery for whom English is not their first language.  Since the meeting was going so long, it was suggested that the translators be dismissed and I allowed the meeting to continue without translation.  I never should have done that.  My worry about the exhaustion of the translators does not excuse my failure to think of those for whom the meeting was no longer accessible once they did not have translation.  But when another pastor took the time to lovingly but clearly point out the error, I saw it. I apologized to the Presbytery, I learned from the mistake.  We are now working on a policy that will make sure such an error does not easily happen again.  We were able to take a mistake and bring some insight and change from it.

          Yesterday I made another such mistake.  I was officiating at an ordination of a pastor in a truly multicultural congregation.  And, as I do, I was talking extemporaneously about how connected we all are.  I used a word I often associate with that, Ubuntu, which I have understood to mean, "I am because we are."  I was immediately corrected, by someone from South Africa, whom I believed was upset that I had used the word and used it incorrectly.  And suddenly I realized that I had once again erred.  It is not my place to be using or defining terms for people who actually speak the language and are from the culture that uses the word I was attempting to use. Being called out in front of the congregation had enough of an impact on me that I left immediately after the service out of a sense of shame.  I didn't sleep last night, feeling that I had failed again in a major way.  My nighttime inner critic kept yelling at me that I really needed to just stop opening my mouth, because when I do, I make mistakes, some that I can't fix as easily as others.  This, for example, was a mistake that will be harder to correct since there were people from numerous communities attending the service.  

    I could go several places from here.  

    I could talk about Professor Loretta Ross and her teaching at Smith College on the subject of effective conversations.  She says that we need to stop being a "call out" and "cancel" culture.  These ways of approaching one another tend to tear us apart and shut us down rather than building communities of reconciliation, growth and belonging across our differences. We sabotage our happiness with anger and create barriers between people that do not need to be there.  Dr. Ross encourages, instead, a "call in" culture where we invite one another into relationships, into conversation, into learning and healing. In both of the situations I described above, what the confronters said was absolutely true and it is not in any way their responsibility to take care of me or my feelings.  I was at fault in both situations. And I choose to grow from both situations.  I choose to learn, and I will work to do better, to not "co-opt" language, for example. Still, the impact of the way each approached the situation carried the potential for very different responses. Neither response was wrong.  But one had greater potential for doing good and for moving towards reconciliation and healing. 

    I could also talk about how we move from that place of shame into a space of grace.  It was helpful to me after the first error to write the letter to the Presbytery.  I could take an active step towards owning my mistake, and could be part of the solution, to try to make sure a policy was developed in the Presbytery for when meetings go too long for our translators.  I could also work to make sure the documents we write (such as my letter) are translated appropriately.  I am still thinking through how to deal with my mistake from yesterday.  But when I see ways to step forward (probably starting with another letter), I will do so.  These actions help us to name the mistake, ask for forgiveness, step into repairing, reconciling, and growing.  They help us to claim the grace that is always offered. We can do so by recognizing our own movement and decisions to respond to the world with creative but important action.  If we respond instead with self-judgment and condemnation, we are often left paralyzed.    

    I could talk about how intentionally studying racism in the United States with my congregation for the last three years has not prevented me from making these mistakes and then name the reality that the systems we live within are so insidious that even when I am daily reading, studying, and learning, that next step of being intentional about removing my own complicity in the system will take a lot more work. I've lived like this over 50 years. Changing behavior will take time.  

    I could write about how in many ways we have not moved much as a country.  This last weekend my daughter graduated from high school.  Over 30 kids from her graduating class then went to her high school and vandalized it with racial slurs, homophobic graffiti and other signs of hate and anger.  They don't learn these behaviors in a vacuum.  Their behavior was a mirror reflecting the communities and families in which they've been raised.  I found it deeply disturbing.  It broke my heart to know that kind of hate and anger was acted out by so many young people right here in this community.  It should not have surprised me.  With all the reading we've been doing, it just plain shouldn't surprise me.  But I was hit hard.

      But where I think I really want to go with this is into a deeper conversation about how we use the unpleasant feelings that arise for us.  Do we allow the feelings of guilt or shame to keep us up at night?  Or do we take our mistakes and seek out creative ways to learn from them, make amends to anyone we've hurt, and move forward?  Feelings are a gift.  Or they can be, if we use them well.  But if we allow our anger to cause us to hurt others (or continue to hurt ourselves), or if we allow our shame to keep us from living in healthy ways, we are misusing the gifts.  Our feelings can become oppressive if we choose to let them.  

       Almost everything in this life can be used for good or for harm.  Even our feelings and thoughts.  But we have a choice in this, like everything else in life.  I invite us to step back from those strong feelings and make choices to see them differently, to engage with them differently, and to find the gifts in the pain to use for the good of all.

Sometimes what starts as a mistake, ends as a gift.

            Those of you who came to my wedding saw this... I forgot my bouquet (which a dear friend had made for me), so after going half way down the aisle in a non-traditional "processional" group of clergy, myself, David and the kids, I turned around and ran back out of the sanctuary to grab the flowers.  David ran after me; and we both came back in together, arm in arm, laughing, as those attending the service joined us in laughter, cheering and celebrating.  That began the wedding. And that "mistake" set the stage for a ceremony with a lot more laughter, joy, a mess of "real" as we moved around and tried to figure out what we were doing, where we were going, when we were to sit and stand, etc.  People have said to me it was the "funnest" wedding they've ever been to... probably because there was very little solemnity in it.  Of course our vows were serious... we both cried (and laughed) and told stories that were meaningful to us in terms of defining who we are together, how we came together, what it means for two extremely different people from different backgrounds and different value systems to partner in this way.  But it wasn't a "traditional" wedding.  For one thing, we refused to take ourselves very seriously.  And the result was, at least for the two of us, better than we had hoped for.
            I think about this in terms of the bigger picture as well.  Again, using our relationship as an example: our meeting was odd, was rough.  David invited me into conversation and I hesitated.  What I knew about him (very little) already showed us to be so different from one another that I wasn't sure I wanted to even talk with him.  But, due to a set of circumstances that basically meant I had nothing else to do in that moment, I joined him in conversation.  And by the end of an hour, an HOUR, we were "involved".  Again, a lot of that had to do with laughter... laughing at ourselves, laughing at our "mistakes" (I spilled mocha all over myself and David says that's when he knew I was the one for him), just being real in a culture that often values the superficial and appearances over what is inside.  Our mistakes, our flaws (I'm perpetually a bit clumsy with drinks), and even our differences set the stage for something deep, valuable, wonderful.
            It didn't stop there.  The first time we had a serious value conflict was only about a week after we'd met.  The subject of that conflict is immaterial.  What matters is that it was a big enough and important enough difference that for me, at least, I figured that was the end of it.  Why bother to invest more when some basic core values seemed to be in such conflict?  But it was actually because of the way David handled that conflict that we didn't end the short beginning but continued to stay engaged with one another.  David was unfailingly kind, even when confronted with such a radical difference of understanding.  He never became righteous, never insisted that his view was better or right, never became mean or sarcastic or catty.  He never attacked, just listened and asked me what I wanted to do in terms of moving forward.  He expressed care, and sadness about the conflict, but never in a blaming way.  He was respectful, understanding, and only wanted to know what I needed in that situation.  My response was one of "well, this person is really good friend quality at least.  So we can start there and see..."  Our conflict, or issue, or even "mistake" in having that conversation so early on actually led to a deeper respect on my part for the person that David is.
           When I facilitate couples counseling for those who come to me wanting to be married, one of the most important questions I always ask is how the couple navigates conflict.  And the only couple I ever chose not to marry was the one who told me they'd never had conflict.  If you don't know how your partner will deal with problems when they arise, you are missing really key information that you need to know before you step into a full blown commitment to them.  Also, the only way a couple can completely avoid conflict is by staying at such a shallow level with their partner that differences are never seen.  That's not a basis for a long term relationship.  Conflict is a gift that can deepen relationships if handled well, that helps us to see under values and beliefs and world views and into who the other really is at their core.  Mistakes, or errors that we make in our lives or in our relationships: these are opportunities to grow, learn and understand each other more fully.  If we can laugh at ourselves, if we can learn from mistakes, if we can let go of defensiveness and instead embrace the fullness of our humanity when we make mistakes, those mistakes can be launching places into depth, honesty and integrity.
          There is a story about a pastor who forgot to turn off his lapel mic when he went to the bathroom.  While his "business" was being broadcast to the entire congregation, he also cursed under his breath about the "damn women's guild".  When he discovered the mistake, he righteously and in a huff quit his job.  But the story ends with the wisdom that if he had been able to laugh at his own mistake with the congregation, admit his own frustration and need to just vent a little under his breath, if he'd been able to make a joke out of the fact that even pastors have to use the facilities once in a while and it isn't any more glamorous for them than for the rest of us, the relationship he had with his congregation might have deepened as they recognized his humanity, even as he pastored them, and as he claimed a bit of humility.  But because he was not able to get past his own humiliation, relationships were torn in a way that made healing for all parties very difficult.
         Today I am deeply grateful for the "mess" that we are, and for the opportunities to grow, learn and deepen from our mistakes.  Thank you all for being witnesses to my mess and loving me through it anyway.  I offer you the same gift.  Be real, and let us love you through it all!