Denoms, NonDenoms, and Accountability

A couple of weeks back, I spent nearly the entirety of a Friday sitting in a long training.   This was the mandated training for Presbyterian pastors on sexual misconduct and malfeasance avoidance, one which we've got to attend every couple of years or so to maintain our good standing within the denomination.

I'd done it before, of course.  Multiple times, both in seminary and through the local Presbytery.  But there I was yet again, watching videos, talking with small groups, and sharing as a whole.   It was a familiar dance, so familiar, in fact, that it would have been easy to dismiss it as just another pointless hoop inflicted on us by the Woman.  'Cause you know, you just can't call it Da Man if you're PC(USA), 'cause it ain't.

Thing is, it wasn't pointless.  It wasn't a hoop.

I wish I'd never had to use my prior misconduct training, but the painful reality is that the awareness it provided me has come in handy over the years.   Encountering the reminders about warning signs to look for in a faith community, I see them now for what they are...the swords of cherubim, protecting the integrity of the church from those who would use it as a place of sexual predation.  Take that metaphorically if you must, but whichever way, that knowledge is important.

It's not about legal liability, either.  It's about insuring that church is a safe, gracious, and truly welcoming place, truly reflective of our Master and Friend.

The training also provided a reminder to the not-predatory-but-flawed human beings who pastor churches that human beings...if they are stressed, isolated, and spiritually out of balance...can make decisions that shatter their integrity, and leave former Christ followers cynical and broken and bitter.  We all need that reminder, all of us, and the tools that the wisdom of others can provide.

Here, though, I wonder about how that plays into the dynamics of the nondenominational world.  Having cast themselves free of the yoke of denominational affiliation, every nondenominational church is free to be itself.  The nondenominational pastor is accountable to no-one but himself, Christ, and the circle that has gathered around him.  And that is a problem.

Why?

Because in the absence of the discipline of denominational accountability, pastors can more easily wander afield.  You are the brand-made-flesh of your entire community.  The church exists because of you.  Your flock, who adore you, are unlikely to be willing to see you weakening, unlikely to admit to themselves that your behavior is critically compromising you.   In the absence of the insights of those who have resisted or endured that form of human brokenness, those pesky demons are likely to have far more play.  In the absence of the oversight and the training, and freely submitting yourself to a discipline that can guide and inform your struggle, your ability to maintain yourself in Christ is weakened.

And when we are weak, ugly things can happen.

That's not to say that denominations don't have a problem with malfeasance.  Of course we do.  But we know we have a problem, and together, we work to deal with it.

In those admittedly clumsy structures of our connection, we are doing something about it, and can hold each other to standards that honor the intent of our Teacher.   Across the many churches of a denominational community, the institutional memory of the damage done remains strong, and those stories act as a reminder and a caution to those fool enough to imagine that It Could Never Happen Here.

But if you are free, free of that discipline, then those stories are not in your ears.  If you are disconnected, and free of the collective reinforcement that comes from denominational affiliation, you are also free to wander deep into dark places.  You are free, should you so choose, to use your power and your charisma and the adoration of those who follow you to follow your every hunger.

Advantage?  Denominations.

Pastor Weiner

Yesterday, as I juggled and sorted my coming summer schedule with the boys, I discovered one of those scheduling impossibilities that make life so highly entertaining.

On a well packed day next week, my little guy has an orthodontist appointment.  More significantly, my big guy is getting his braces put in, a non-trivial multi-hour exercise that allows us to continue paying the mortgage on our orthodontist's vacation home in Bermuda.   And the little guy has a three hour School of Rock band practice in the late afternoon.  And the wife will be in Seattle.

And this was the day I'd originally registered for the mandated day-long Presbytery sexual misconduct training, running from 9 in the mornin' to 4 in the afternoon.  Something had to give, and what gave was the training.  It'll happen in the Fall, and that'll work just fine.

This sort of training isn't, of course, something I haven't already done.  Sexual misconduct training was a significant part of the two-day retreat with which I entered into ministry.  It was there in the background as I went through the required psych assessment.  It was front-and-center during a significant portion of the required semester long Pastoral Counseling course in seminary.  In fact, it's so often present that at times it starts feeling redundant and, if I'm in a grumpy mood, a bit oppressive.

Again?  Really?  Sweet Mother of Pearl!

On first blush, it's easy to question this relentless tide of trainings and re-retrainings.  For all of the good heart behind them, the fact remains that trainings and seminars are unlikely to have a significant impact on the behavior of a sexual predator, or on the actions of someone who has no sense of appropriate interpersonal boundaries or propriety.  

Human beings who live into a dysfunctional sexuality will sit through the training, make a few jokes, and then go right back to sending inappropriately personal emails to that young woman who recently came to them for counseling.   Telling someone something is wrong and showing them what is right provides exactly zero guarantee that they'll act appropriately.

The endless stream of political scandals that mass media pitches out there to draw the attention of our nookie-addled culture is clear evidence of this.   Did Anthony Weiner know, rationally, that his tweets were inappropriate and would be disastrous for his career?  Did John Edwards know, rationally, that cheating on his cancer-stricken wife was wrong and would destroy his credibility?  What about Gov. Sanford?  Gov. Swartzenegger?  Senator Ensign?  How many trainings and counselings and consciousness-raising sessions do we suppose would have gotten them thinking with something other than their little brain?

I'm not fool enough to believe it makes a difference to them's who are inclined to act inappropriately.  Knowledge of the right is not doing of the right.

So are these sessions a waste of time?  If the predators and those who have a poorly developed sense of sexual self are not going to be changed, and those who are faithful will pay attention to the Gospel anyway, should churches spend so much time on this?

Short answer:  Yes.

They should spend the time because, as I see it, what matters is 1) clearly establishing acceptable norms of respectful behavior within the Beloved Community and 2) empowering those who accept those norms to both identify and defend them.

The purpose of these trainings, honestly, is more for those who aren't violating pastoral trust.  It's a reminder to remain constantly vigilant.  That includes empowering folk to be aware of inappropriate behavior in others, but also giving the awareness that if you're not attending to your own faith and maintaining balance in life, unChristlike things can happen.  Even to good people.  

It's a reminder that the integrity of the Good News is at issue.  It's a reminder that the church needs to attend continually to insuring that our communities are places where everyone is safe and welcomed.

Too much is at stake to neglect it.  And that is more than worth a refresh now and again.