Right or Liked?

First snowstorm of the season last night. Forecast was for nine inches, but so far we've been disappointed in that regard. Not that I really consider it much of a disappointment. Good numbers in church yesterday for the first Sunday in Advent; nearly 200 souls (children and adults) at worship, and over 40 for the "Newcomers Luncheon" after church, where we introduced some of the church officers and talked about the next steps in the Path to Membership. Lots of energy and enthusiasm for the start of the holidays. Makes it a pleasure to get up and come into work in the morning, even when it's snowing.

Not that I harbor any illusions that anyone had actually noticed, but until Linda Laskowski discovered (and resurrected) an old post I'd written last summer describing her "Congregations Count" workshop at General Assembly, it had been several months since I'd last posted here. Part of the reason for my absence has simply been the distractions of other, more important concerns as I begin my new ministry here in Portland ME. But mostly it involved some serious soul-searching, after I violated the integrity of one of my oldest and most fundamental principles as a writer, and pulled down an earlier post about my transition experience out of the congregation I was serving before being called here, as a result of having received an angry (and, the truth be told, somewhat threatening) e-mail from one of my former parishioners, berating me for having publicly "denigrated" in this blog both that congregation and (more accurately) the affluent and privileged community where it is located.

Frankly, I didn't really see it that way myself. From my point of view, the post was honest, candid, and (to be sure) at times less than completely flattering...but it also acknowledged both some of my own shortcomings in that situation (since there's no way I could possibly have listed them all), as well as many of the positive things I learned from and enjoyed about the experience.

But since I'm not in the business of gratuitiously pissing people off (or at least I don't THINK I am), I decided to pull down that previous post anyway, at least for awhile, while I thought things through, and sorted out my own feelings and opinions on the matter. After all, from my perspective, the real "soul work" took place in the writing itself. The sharing of my thoughts on this blog was only an afterthought, so that others might potentially benefit from the wisdom of my experience. Even so, I also really hated the idea of censoring myself simply because someone else took offense at my honest opinions. It's called a "heckler's veto," and it really pisses me off -- especially when used as a weapon by powerful people who desire to silence their critics.

And the great irony, of course, is that the principal barrier to that congregation ever achieving everything it has the potential to become is its own inability (or maybe unwillingness) to see itself as it truly is (which is what made my experience there so frustrating to begin with). Which is also, of course, now entirely their problem, and no longer any real concern of mine. In fact, until I received that angry and intimidating e-mail, I felt like I had pretty much achieved closure with that situation, along with all the attendant disappointment that accompanied it, and was moving on to something far more congenial and satisfying. But afterwards, for awhile at least, I suddenly found it difficult to think about anything else!

So thanks for that little gift, former parishioner. If you were afraid that I was going to tell the truth about your smug, sanctimonious little "City in the Woods," maybe you should have treated me a little better when you had the chance.

At the end of the day, the Truth (or at least MY truth) is that, notwithstanding my former congregation's routine and habitual institutional parsimony, I actually liked (and still like) the people there quite a bit -- even the ones who sometimes made my life difficult or challenging (and believe me, UUs are very clever and intelligent folk, and can often be quite creative in this regard). But it's also true that when, after four years without a raise (or even a COLA), I finally started to complain, rather than addressing the situation responsibly, the treasurer's husband (who also, surprise, surprise, just so happens to be the same former parishioner who wrote me the nasty e-mail) took me to lunch and strongly suggested that I might actually be a lot happier working somewhere else. Which, of course, turned out to be true. Which is why I feel so grateful now that things worked out the way they did, and so delighted have been called to this pulpit here in Portland.

UU clergy are often charged to "preach the truth to power." This, or something like it, is pretty standard language in most ordination and installation services, and a responsibility which I have always tried to take to heart in my own ministry. At my installation service at that former congregation I pledged myself "with God's help, worthily to maintain the freedom of this pulpit, speaking the truth in love both publicly and privately." And yet one wonders, what does it mean to speak "with love?" Does it mean telling lies or keeping secrets, in order to prevent someone else's embarrasment or disgrace? Or is it actually more loving to tell the truth honestly yet without joy, knowing that the danger of keeping secrets is always worse that the truth plainly spoken?

Unfortunately, the challenge often gets reduced simply to a more rudimentary conflict between personal intellectual integrity and interpersonal social graces: Would your rather be Right or Liked? But this is really way too simplistic. Most folks, I think, would like to be both right AND liked. The real problem is that a lot of folks simply don't like to hear the ugly truth. And so to avoid being unpopular, we refrain from sharing it with them. Yet ultimately, the issue of "being right" has nothing to do with one's own ego-driven needs to be liked, or even the natural human desire to avoid appearing foolish (as in "I'm right and you're wrong"). Rather, it is sustained by the underlying and uncompromising conviction that Truth Really Matters, and that we should seek it even at the price of both being unpopular and at times discovering (and admitting) that we were wrong.

The REAL ethical dilemma for me always boils down to the whole Prophetic/Socratic/Cassandra issue: how long should one remain silent about something they KNOW to be wrong, simply to avoid becoming unpopular and disliked?

The word "courtesy" originally refered to a style of manners appropriate to the royal court, where it was often difficult to speak the truth to power without having one's head chopped off. Because let's face it, powerful people typically don't like hearing the unvarnished truth (much less being made to appear foolish or told they are wrong) any more than the rest of us do. Which is why it is so easy for them to grow ignorant and out of touch with the factual situation "on the ground" and "outside the bubble." When we habitually replace candor with euphemism, and...well, I don't really need to spell it all out, do I? Or maybe I do. After all, these days our leaders often aren't exactly the brightest bulbs on the marquee....

"Say what you mean. Mean what you say. Try not to BE mean when you say it." Clarity. Sincerity. Sensitivity. This is the challenge we clergy face when we lovingly attempt to speak the truth to people who have power over us. We need to embrace the values of honesty and candor, while at the same time trying as best we can to take our own egos out of the equation, and make ourselves servants of Truth itself. But keeping secrets simply to spare someone the shame of their own bad behavior is, at best, an act of co-dependent enabling, and at worst bad behavior in its own right. To put it another way, "All that is required for Evil to triumph is for Good to remain silent and do nothing." I think it was Winston Churchill who said that. Or something like it anyway.

Then there remains the delicate question of being sensitive to other people's feelings, even when you know they're wrong....

The Truth often hurts enough simply on its own. There's rarely any need to rub it in by saying "I told you so." Defensiveness and denial are difficult enough barriers to hearing and understanding Truth; we don't need to make it any worse by getting our own egos involved. By embracing an attitude of empathy and compassion, our desire to be liked, along with our willingness to care for others (whether they "agree" with us or not), can help to make "the Truth plainly spoken" a little easier to hear as well.

I calculate that my four-year sojourn with my former congregation easily cost me over $100,000 in direct compensation. And if that sounds like an awful lot of money to you, it's because it is. Of course, 80% of that was simply the difference between the low-ball offer I agreed to accept from them, and the six-figure salary I turned down at the time from another, larger congregation just down the road. Another $19k had to do with the way they chose to handle the utilities at the Parsonage: basically neglecting to inform me beforehand that they were not included in the "Fair Rental Value" they had provided in their Congregational Record, and then deducting that money from my paycheck instead. Finally there's the four years without a raise or a COLA, and the nearly six grand they decided to stiff me by refusing to pay me through the entire three months of the contractual 90 day severence period. Oh yes, and they'd also promised me equity sharing and a sabbatical after five years service (as per the Guidelines), and of course I never heard anything more about that either. But you know, as my daddy used to tell me, we pay a little tuition for every lesson that we learn. And since we generally can't afford to make ALL the mistakes ourselves, it's a blessing sometimes to be able to learn from the mistakes of others.

As for my former congregation, the truth be told, I'm honestly hoping that they will thrive under new ministerial leadership. I hope that their big anniversary celebration this year goes well, I hope that the cellular tower contracts we'd been pursuing for the past two years are at last approved by the foot-dragging town government (contributing some much-needed additional revenue to the bottom line), and I also hope that they will finally figure out that if they want to keep their next pastor happy, they need to be attentive and faithful to the UUA's Fair Compensation Guidelines, and increase their average pledge above its currently shameful level in order to make that happen. And if they can just do those few simple things, they might actually have a chance of becoming the kind of congregation they think they are, rather than continually building "castles in the air" without bothering to put the foundations under them.

Now, about that hundred thousand dollars.... Maybe once those cell phone dollars start rolling in, we could just split the difference?