Commentary: Taking your licks

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This article is 6 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

The evangelical movement, with which so many centrist Baptists still identify, emerged in the early 1900s as a positive answer to both the frailty of religious liberalism and the rancor of religious fundamentalism.

Evangelicalism was born in the gap between extremes. Centrism today has the same opportunity evangelicalism did when it stepped into the wide religious gap a century ago.

But stepping into the center inevitably results in arrows from both sides.

Jonathan Bass relates in Blessed are the Peacemakers that during the Civil Rights Movement in Birmingham, Ala., Rabbi Milton Grafman declared himself caught between the racist bigots on one side and “bigoted liberals” on the other (p. 178).

In Why We Can’t Wait, Martin Luther King declared he was standing between “the ‘do-nothingness’ of the complacent” and the “hatred and despair of the black national” (p. 87).

You and I are not the first ones to experience the exasperation of the gap.

Responsible to get involved

Part of our responsibility is to step into the public square with both conviction and compassion. That means engaging in today’s spiritual and cultural controversies, including racism, the exclusive centrality of Jesus, homosexuality and gender identity. Anyone who steps into the middle of those hot topics will be criticized from both directions.

It’s true that some people make their way to the center on important topics because they are people-pleasers. But it doesn’t take long to realize, instead of pleasing everybody, being at the center pleases almost nobody.

We talk a lot about developing thick skin, and thick skin is necessary. Yet, no matter how well I understand the psychology of conflict, and no matter how well I steel myself against attacks, it still smarts a bit when people slam me. I draw strength from the reassurance I’m not the only one in the gap getting slammed.

If you are leading from the center and are up to your eyeballs in alligators, you need to know you are not alone. “Misery loves company,” they say, and if you’re in a tough spot as a centrist leader, then know you’ve got company. War stories, bruises and scars come with the territory. Knowing and accepting that is reassuring.

Responding with grace to criticism

The first lesson is being a courageous and vocal centrist will result in taking some licks. More importantly, we have to learn how to respond with grace to those licks.

Proverbs 15:1 reads, “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” That verse reminds me of Verbal Judo, a book and course scripted for law enforcement officers. Verbal Judo is also recommended for sports officials.

That’s important to me because I referee high school football as a hobby. I stand, literally and physically, in the center of a football field, practicing “centrism” every Friday night in the fall.

As a referee, I’ve read the book Verbal Judo and made a list of major points. I go over my list every Friday afternoon in the fall in preparation for that evening’s game during which there almost certainly will be some moments of conflict.

Here are three points on my Verbal Judo list that might be helpful to all of us as we talk about taking our licks as centrist Baptists:

• Treat people with dignity and respect.
• Build bridges; don’t burn bridges.
• Take insults with style and disregard your ego. Less ego = more power.

Verbal judo is helpful whether we are standing in the middle of the playing field or in the middle of a spirited ecclesiastical debate.

The sting of rejection

Having talked about being criticized from multiple directions, let’s talk about another way we have to “take our licks.” Sometimes the licks come, not from being attacked, but from seeing people leave.

Years ago, in a previous church, a couple who were members of our church came to my office, sat on a couch and said, “We love this church, and we’re not mad, but this church is pushing women in ministry, and we’re just not comfortable.”

They were polite, and they didn’t make a fuss, but they moved their membership to a more conservative church.

Six weeks later—and I’m not making this up—a couple came to my office, sat on the same couch and said, “Travis, we love this church, and we’re not mad, but this church is too restrictive on the topic of homosexuality.”

They, too, were polite, and they made no fuss, but they went to a more liberal church.

Two families left within six weeks—one through the door to the right, the other through the door to the left.

It’s happened in the church I serve now. I’ve seen good and thoughtful people, some of them personal friends, walk out opposing doors over my expressed convictions.

Even big tents cannot hold everyone. Congregations do, from time to time, have to self-define. Churches that try to be everything to everybody tend not to be anything to anybody. And while I realize it’s sometimes best both for the church and for the individuals when people leave, it’s still not pleasant for the shepherd to see sheep wander away.

We centrists are not victims, and this is not a pity party. This brief article is simply an encouraging reminder that you are going to have to take some licks for standing humbly-but-firmly in the middle. And you are not alone.

Travis Collins is senior pastor of First Baptist Church of Huntsville, Ala. The views expressed are those of the author. This article is 6 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.


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