This week I attended a training session for those learning to serve as coaches to churches discerning God’s leading for future direction. The time was good and worthwhile. Coaches do not become the pastor. They work from the sidelines. We have some great tools and material being developed that will help churches be reflective by prayerfully looking into the mirror of data-derived charts and self-told narrative as they dream about what they might become. For this post I plan to stay with the metaphor of a person/congregation looking in the mirror to see what they can see, and to dream what they can be.
Those few days of presentation and interaction have seriously stirred in me the question I have made the title for this post. For me, to work out a question, I either need to talk it through – which my dog is not interested in – or write.So here goes my first thought-dump on the topic.
The biblical narrative that well images and parallels the congregational discernment process is the “time in the wilderness.” The Exodus account is a great descriptor that is used in the training. Leaving bondage that came out of past flight to safety, deliberately crossing a dangerous threshold safely to enter a no man’s land of uncertainty and testing, learning new rules of engaging God and other, then deliberately crossing another threshold to enter the future that has been collectively discerned, all as Israel did, is a wonderful narrative map for the journey. As a Specialized Transitional Minister I’ve even likened my role to that of Moses (and John the Baptizer). I will say to a congregation “I’m here to walk you through the journey, to be your navigator in helping you figure out where you discern God is promising you a better life, but I can’t enter that life with you.” I’m even preaching through Exodus as a guide to “Transitions.” But here’s my difficulty. As I relive Exodus, I don’t see the biblical Moses “coaching” a whole lot. Moses is not known as a coach. He’s known as a prophet, even as John is supposedly the last of such prophets.
So, bluntly put, the coaching approach may be too kind. It feels like yet another current cultural ethos we’ve enthusiastically embraced, leaving out the more chaffing role of one who speaks harder truth out of love, who speaks or applies denial-shriveling discernments God has revealed.
When congregational politics ends up ignoring the coached process’s results and having the gang return to Egypt — to the good food and predictability of life there while confined — instead of facing the uncertainty of new territory, is that maybe because a prophet did not speak?
When I look in the mirror, there is tons of delusion and denial and headgaming going on in how I interpret what I see. Same with a congregation. I have learned that I need people around me yet somehow ‘outside of me’ who will — in the direct way of a prophet, for I don’t hear coaching hints well — help me see through the fog I create for myself. Is that not also true for congregations?
This snippet from Dr. David Schnarch crossed my screen earlier today, and I’ve bolded part of it:
“Conventional wisdom in couples therapy says troubled couples have to get more securely attached before they can differentiate. But repeatedly I see troubled couples differentiate first—which leads to stabler marriages. I believe couples have to stop manipulating their stories and tampering with facts to keep their relationship together. Far from being impossible or improbable, this is the way relationships really work. Realizing this yields a different kind of experience in therapy—not one of safety and hovering support, but one in which higher anxiety and pressure and faster pace of change emerge, as people realize their full capacity to meet the adult challenges of life.”
I read him speaking about the very same thing I am trying to sort out. What he describes as needed and more effective is similar to how I see a prophet playing a role.
In the end, for now, I’m not done with this. I have resolved my own dilemma somewhat by deciding to pay more attention to how Prophetic truth might be spoken in love, not “at” people as blunt commands or propositions, but as couched coaching: inquisitive questions and indirect revealing narrative (Eugene Peterson’s “Telling it Slant), like Nathan the prophet did with David.