The Nature of Conflict

I've been thinking a lot lately about conflict. In general, I think many people are pretty conflict-avoidant. I've seen whole families dance around an argument or a family "secret," intent on maintaining a persona of perfection or at the very least cohesion. I myself grew up in such a family.

Sometimes there's really something to be said for avoiding conflict, such as when a group needs to act as one for safety or to accomplish a task. If a community's only chance of escaping a war-torn country is to temporarily bury their internal disagreements and work as one to escape persecution, conflict-avoidance can, on several levels (not the least of which is literally), save lives.

However, on the whole, our fear of conflict seems to drive us ever further apart as opposed to into a cohesive whole. To reference the movie Mr. and Mrs. Smith (any why the heck not?), "the space between us just seems to fill up with all the things we never say." Whether we do not say what we really mean and communicate what's really going on out of "good manners," an urge to "protect" the other, or the belief that we can just let whatever it is we want to say go, there are a million reasons to not face the perception of difference.

Really, at the end of the day, that is what we are all scared of--a perception of difference. I spent years not talking to my extended family about politics, believing that if we talked about our beliefs, we would disagree. If we disagreed, we could never really go back to pretending we did agree. And if we couldn't even pretend we agreed, how could we ever be a family again?

I think that fearing conflict is underestimating our personal and collective abilities. We are complex creatures who are capable of speech, movement, emotions, reproduction, and invention, yet we operate on the notion that we are incapable of reaching greater levels of understanding, that we cannot possibly find a way to move even closer to one another as a result of communicating through a conflict.

I still remember a lesson my mother pointed out to me my first year of college. I was living with this wonderful, amazing, hilarious, outgoing, thoughtful, brilliant roommate named Anna. We quickly became friends, and we both found ways to expand each other's understanding of the world. Anna, who liked things beautiful and clean and bold, helped me throw away some of my pack-rat objects that were holding me down. I, who liked things serene and practical and stable, helped Anna ground some of her amazing energy. Together, our friendship made us stronger than we were individually.

Sometime in the middle of second semester, Anna and I got into a fight. I honestly don't remember what we argued about. However, it felt devastating. Here was this person who was beautiful inside and out, who was such a ray of sunshine, and we weren't speaking. We weren't staying up late and gossiping, we weren't laughing, or smiling, or leaping off the furniture lip-syncing to Little Richie songs.

Then, one day, it changed. I don't remember who started crying first. I don't remember who apologized first. I don't know when the hug began and when it ended, but it all happened. It was like this weight was lifted off my shoulders. I felt 100 pounds lighter. It was like, the world had opened back up to me. Like I was getting a second chance to try harder.

Even though we'd said mean things to each other and not spoken for days, the conflict made our bond stronger. We both knew that we had made it to the other side of something, and that mutual effort had given us more in common. It made us realize how much we valued the other person, how much they valued us, and how much effort we were both willing to put into our relationship.

I was telling my mother this story. It was like recounting an ancient miracle, I couldn't believe that 2 - 2 could equal 4. Then, my mother said to me, "Remember this feeling. Remember how moving through something made you stronger. This is what marriage is like."

I was kind of taken aback by the statement. Delving into really hard subjects, feeling disconnected before you can feel reconnected, facing times when you think it's all going to fall apart--this did not fit my fairy-tale image of marriage. And yet, it seemed a lot more plausible.

This theory, that communicating honestly in conflict can make you stronger, that not avoiding conflict can lead to less conflict, has proven itself right again and again. I've said some pretty audacious things to friends, family, and colleagues, I've been scared that a rift might never heal, I've thought about (and sometimes have) hidden my feelings or avoided someone in an attempt to escape the constricting feeling of conflict. And yet...and yet...facing it, saying what I need to say, not being afraid to make a fool of myself, and not being afraid to come back later and apologize for making a fool of myself, has only served to deepen relationships. It has only magnified my friendships. It has only built my trust in myself and my intuitions.

I guess I'm just feeling really grateful for conflict lately. Grateful that I've found ways through it, grateful my friends, family, and colleagues have been willing to meet me there, grateful that saying something can set me free, grateful that we are such complex and capable creatures when we give ourselves a chance.

Any thoughts?

Eek, What a Busy Summer!

I had this sort of dream summer planned out. I was going to work part-time (10-15 hours a week), read some good books, and take a few trips to visit friends and family. It was going to be a peaceful time, full of introspection, sleeping in, and getting more involved in what really mattered to me rather than with endless amounts of homework and data entry for my job. It seems a distant dream now...

My reality has been more, well, real. After an unexpected resignation from my boss and mentor in June, I was spending 10 hours a day at my job trying to finish my own work as well as get a handle on hers. Did I ever mention I want to be a minister and not the Annual Funds Director at a small seminary?? In case I didn't, I never, under any circumstances, in any form or fashion, want to be solely responsible for managing hundreds of thousands of dollars of credit card, check, cash, and stock donations to a non-profit organization. Furthermore, endless conversations about how to make our computer programs talk to our consortium's computer programs using a complicated system of fund coding and FTTPing the csv file is at best bothersome and at worst the 10th ring of Hell.

That being said, I have read some great books this summer! If you've never read it, I highly recommend Jean Auel's Clan of the Cave Bear. It takes place tens of thousands of years ago when Neanderthals (a human cousin of the people we evolved from) and the Cro-Magnon people (our ancestors) both walked the earth at the same time. A 5 year-old Cro-Magnon girl's family dies in an earthquake, and she is left to fend for herself. Luckily, she is picked up and raised by a Neanderthal tribe. Jean Auel's careful research about the plants, animals, lifestyles, and the physical capabilities of different bodies is very evident. I highly recommend this book. Also, because it's so famous and popular, most public libraries have it. YAY for free book borrowing!

I am also in the midst of Harry Potter. It is so good. I'm only about 2/3 of the way through the book. I'm simultaneously unable to stop reading and wanting to make it last longer. My friend Justin (see picture in previous post) and I are both in the same place in the book, and we have been systematically avoiding people who are finished and want to tell us the ending. In the words of Justin, normally quite a peaceful man, "If anyone gives away the ending of Harry Potter to me, I'm going to go Blast-Ended Skrewt on their ass!" Justin has such a way with words.

That's all for now. More updates to come. :)

They're Reproducing!

I've known my friend Julia since before I can remember. We grew up together. Whenever we weren't at my house, we were at her house. The two of us spent hours talking about boys, and Green Day, and what we were going to do when we grew up. We dared each other to run through the sprinkler in her backyard naked. We were best friends all through elementary school and junior high, and I was devastated when her dad lost his job and the family moved to Evansville, IN for a new job.

Even though we don't see each other or talk a lot, she's one of those people I've known for so long that there's not much catch-up. We can pick up wherever we left off, and it's always great to hear what she's been up to.

It's funny how similarly two lives can start and how much they can veer off in different directions. Julia is still doing really well. She's living in Evansville with her husband, and the two of them are excitedly anticipating their daughter's arrival in a few months. I'm SO happy for them, and it's strange to be doing such different things in my life. I guess it's time to welcome in a new generation of naked-sprinkler-runners. Congratulations Julia and Jason!!

The End-of-the-Year Sprint

Oh my goodness, I've had some busy, action packed days! May 17th marked the end of classes as well as my seminary's graduation. People flew in from their internship sites all over the country to graduate. It was great to see everyone. So many amazing people have come through my seminary, and I wanted to spend a week with all of them.

Graduation was also a chance to see my classmates as real, bona fide ministers. Everyone who graduates gets a Master of Divinity hood and then goes up to the pulpit to speak. Even though they only have two minutes, I'm constantly amazed at how beautifully and poignantly people speak. My classmates are the kind of people who give me hope in humanity.

The graduation was quickly followed by my friend Lisa's ordination the next day. The ordination was taking place in my home congregation, and I wanted to join my colleagues by robing and processing with the rest of the ministers and seminarians.

Through a series of events (including lots to do at work and unexpected amounts of traffic), I was running late. As I drove into the church parking lot, the ministers and seminarians were all in their robes and lined up waiting to process into the church. Realizing that I still had a chance to make it, I threw everything except for my car keys and my ministerial robes into the trunk and tried to start running.

I'm not much of a runner to begin with (I usually only run when chased), and the addition of the dress heels I was wearing made me realize I would never get there in time. I knew there was only one thing to do. I kicked off the heels and picked them up, threw the robe over my arm, and I ran. I ran through the parking lot, past the children's chapel, weaved around the religious education building, and up onto the patio. As I arrived out of breath and barefoot, Lisa, who was about to be ordained, looked at me in a seemingly serene way and said calmly, "Wow, you have such good timing."

As I caught my breath and pulled on my shoes and robe, I realized that all the ministers and seminarians down the line were smiling, totally amused at my arrival.

Saturday, I attended my friend Natalya's graduation. I met Natalya in a Religion and Film class at the Baptist seminary, and we became fast friends. She's one of those people who just lights up a room, and it was great to see her graduate. In addition to being a generally fabulous person, the girl can preach.

On Sunday, I preached at church and attended a church dinner. On Monday, I had to work and go to a church meeting.

By the end of the long weekend, everyone was exhausted. Even the most extroverted of my seminary friends were running on empty. It was the end of a sprint, and we were all showing signs of fatigue.


I've spent today relaxing. After all the hullabaloo of the last few weeks, I decided I needed to be introverted today. I watched the movie The Good Shepherd about the beginning of the CIA, a few episodes of the British comedy Coupling, and cuddled with my cats and the dog. Today has been a good day.

The top picture is of my roommate Leon and my former roommate (who graduated) Barb. The next picture is of me and my old roommate Justin (who did not graduate, but probably will next year). Below that is a picture of me and my good friends John (who graduated) and his wife Kit. They keep declaring they want to adopt me. Below that picture is Natalya and I at the Baptist seminary graduation. Finally, my roommates Leon and Elizabeth and former roommate Justin wait, exhausted, in the subway station.

http://www.workers.org/2007/us/berkeley-0531/

Happy Mother's Day!

Well, it's been a crazy day of paper writing. This is my last week of classes, perhaps forever, and everything is coming due in the next few days. I'm pretty much done with two of my classes, and I have a 20 page paper due tomorrow and a project due on Thursday. Friday is going to be a great day.

I don't think it has quite hit me yet that I won't be in seminary classes next year. I'm in one of those strange transitional spaces--it's time to leave classes, but it's not quite time to start my chaplaincy. It feels a bit like the summer between high school and college, or college and my first full-time job. I have this image of myself trying to walk out of a room, and there's something that is holding on to one of my ankles. I tug and I tug, but it still has a grasp. Slowly, over the last few days, it's begun to release it's grip.

I spent all day today in coffee houses. I was in the Temescal Cafe, a funky little dive down the street from me, from 10am to 4pm when it closed. I moved on to Tumble and Tea, this coffee house with a fabulous play area for toddlers, and stayed there until it closed at 6:30pm. It's kind of comforting to do homework there. I'm reminded of my 5 years at the children's museum as the kids run around dressed like lions and dinosaurs.

The next few days are going to be pretty busy. My friend Natalya is giving a presentation on her senior project Monday night before our 7pm class, Tuesday I'm helping to plan a worship service at church, Wednesday I work in the advancement office and go to an afternoon class, Thursday I have a project due in the afternoon and the seminary's graduation that night (I'm not graduating yet, but some people I love and adore are), Friday is my friend Lisa's ordination, Saturday I'm writing a sermon on the beach (if you have to write a sermon, you might as well do it there), and Sunday I'm preaching at church for our Coming of Age Service.

Whew--so many transitions! So much is changing. I keep expecting myself to be a bit more freaked out, but it's all just as it should be. As hard and exhausting as next year is going to be, it's time. It's just, time. That feels pretty good.

P.S. The photo was taken a few years ago when I was working at the children's museum. I'm teaching the kids about the life cycle of ants.

My First Wedding

I've officiated at a funeral before, but I had never done a wedding until March 30th of this year. My good friend Tabitha asked if I would marry her and her fiancee Matthew, and I was honored to be asked.

They decided on a small ceremony in their backyard. There were several toddlers who were going to be at the wedding, and in the backyard they could run around, play with toys, and the parents did not have to keep quite so close a watch on the kids.

Matt and Tabitha have a daughter who was just over a year old, and right before the wedding she decided she was hungry. Some family members stripped her out of her dress and started feeding her yogurt. Matt was calling people out to the backyard so we could start the wedding when he spotted his naked daughter in her high chair. He stopped, a small smile spread across his face, and he said, "five minutes!"

It was a simple ceremony. Matt and Tabitha shared how much they loved each other. At one point, their daughter Kiera yelled out "NO NO NO!," which had to do with the fact that she wasn't the center of attention as opposed to a protest about her parent's nuptials, but it was really cute and timely all the same.

The day went well, and I got through my first wedding without a hitch. Well, there was one hitch... I kind of...sort of...well...at the end of the ceremony...I introduced them with the wrong name. I declared they were married, and then introduced them with their new legal names. However, rather than introducing them "Matthew and Tabitha Thurston," I introduced them both with the bride's maiden name, "Matthew and Tabitha MacDonald."

Luckily, they thought it was HILARIOUS. People kept coming up to me and asking if I'd planned it that way, or if the bride had paid me to do it. Sometimes, it's the mess-ups and the unexpected that makes a moment special and memorable.

In any case, it was a beautiful day.

A Bit Deeper--The Nature of Sin

Just so you all know, I'm in the middle of tests and final papers. Usually, I wouldn't be waxing poetic about the nature of sin. However, here are some thoughts.

There have been several questions plaguing me this semester. Specifically, I have been pondering questions around the nature of suffering, evil, and sin. While I have spent a good deal of time defining what I do not believe, I was having trouble coming up with what I do believe. More specifically, these culturally and theologically loaded words had so many meanings, getting to the basis of my own beliefs meant slogging through the beliefs of many others.

I realized that until I wrestled with the nature of “sin,” I could not begin to wrestle with the nature of “salvation.” After going through several drafts, I came up with four beliefs I hold about the nature of sin. They are in no way comprehensive or a finished draft. Rather, they are a jumping off point for deeper theological reflection.

1. When we preference a few people at the expense of many, we sin.
2. When we are psychologically, mentally, physically, or emotionally violent, we sin.
1. Violence includes violence towards the earth
2. Exception to this belief is when violence is used as self-defense, which is a whole other discussion
3. When we ignore or deny another’s Divine spark in the way we treat them, we sin.
4. When we ignore or deny our own Divine spark in the way we treat ourselves, we sin.
   

Defining “sin” is proving trickier than I expected. For every definition, I thought of an exception as well as an area which was not covered. For example, when writing that we sin when we are violent, I thought about the atrocities of rape and domestic abuse. When one person manipulates and violates another with violence, they are sinning. However, I would not call a rape survivor a sinner for fighting back.

At the same time, the definition of sin is not wide enough. One does not have to do violence to sin. On the contrary, sin can be loving and kind. When I worked at a children’s museum, I met countless mothers who drove SUVs, had the most expensive strollers, and used disposable baby bottle liners. Even though they were polluting the environment, supporting sweatshop labor, filling our landfills, and generally had a standard of living well above 95% of the world, they were doing this out of love for their child and a concern for their child’s safety and well-being.

Furthermore, it seems that when we can make a group the “other,” when we can distance ourselves and our identities from people in such a way that we fail to see them as human and a part of the larger Divine, we can commit the worst of crimes—genocides, lynchings, racism, murder, abuse, etc… When we distance our mind from our body or our soul from our passion, we can commit the worst of crimes against ourselves. When we fail to recognize our own Divine spark, we injure ourselves.

In retrospect, I ask the question of myself again—From what do we need to be saved? From ourselves? From lives of ignorance? From self-absorption?

I ask myself, what can save us? Perhaps the answer is...us?