Walking the Line

I'm teaching a study for the next five weeks called "The Gospel According to Johnny Cash."  It's based on a book of the same name (yes, really).  And for week 1, one of the songs we'll listen to is "I Walk the Line."  This song is an "ode" to fidelity -- both to Cash's first wife Vivian and to his Creator.  It puts forth an impossible standard where both are concerned -- especially for Cash, whom Merle Hagard joked was "out of line" all of his life.  But it presents an interesting image -- especially where our relationship with God, others and ourselves is concerned.  Walking the line.  And I suppose as a vocational pastor, it seems as if in some respects walking the line is an exercise in vigilance.  A balancing act.  Let me explain...

Last weekend I spent about 4 or 5 hours taking an online course related to clergy ethics. One of the things that this training stresses is what it called a power differential.  Basically, people tend to give pastors access to their lives in a way that creates an imbalance of power.  Pastors have great influence over their parishioners.  In fact, we have a "joke" in our congregation that if the senior pastor doesn't announce an event, it's not happening.  And so for this and many other reasons, it's really important for pastors to understand this power differential, so that they do not abuse it (and yet some do).

The training also categorized pastors into two groups where ethical misconduct is concerned.  The first group are those who cross boundaries unknowingly and then feel embarrassed and remorseful when they realize (or have it pointed out to them) what they have done.  The second group are more like real perpetrators (and that's really sad).

The key to avoiding abuse of this power differential is to constantly work at balance.  We can't be aloof and wall ourselves off emotionally from our parishioners.  But neither can we go beyond boundaries and initiate/nurture the kind of emotional intimacy or vulnerability with them that can turn into a disaster. It's a delicate back and forth, in my experience.  In seminary, they teach you to keep an emotional distance, going so far as to tell you that you can never have close friendships with your parishioners.  And yet in the scriptures, we see both Jesus and the Apostle Paul maintaining close, intimate relationships with their disciples/coworkers and strangers alike.  For example, I plan to teach a five-week study on 1 Thessalonians later in the Spring.  In preparation, I began reading it this morning.  The letter to the Thessalonians is really sweet.  The Apostle Paul was obviously very fond of this congregation, similar to his relationship with the church at Philippi and the total opposite of Corinth.  Thus, in 1 Thess 2:8 Paul writes: "So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us."  The course I took last weekend had multiple choice questions woven throughout.  And I'm pretty sure if this verse had been offered as one of the choices to a question that asked, "Which of the following statements by a clergy person may represent the greatest potential for misconduct," hands-down Paul's writing would have appeared as an obvious choice.  Never in my training was I encouraged to profess to my church members a deep-seated desire to share with them both the gospel as well as my own self.  Never.  As I said -- "walking the line" is a great back and forth.

For example...

A few weeks ago, a member of my Bible study invited me to lunch.  She said, "So and so and I are going to lunch and wondered if you might like to join us?" I often go to lunch with my Bible study members, telling them I'm happy to share a meal at their invitation.  Well, I wasn't available on this particular day, so I had to pass, adding, "Let's find another date and go out soon!"  And with that in mind, I emailed both of them this week to circle around on their original invitation.  But before doing so, I had to pause and ask myself, am I crossing a boundary?  The conversation in my head sounded something like this: "I have no ulterior motives and I didn't initiate the original invitation, so I should be OK."

I had a similar experience from a church member who was troubled about a particular situation and wanted to come by to talk about it. (This is where it can get really sticky, because some folks lean in when pastors talk as if everything they say is golden.) I made sure I did a lot more listening than talking.  But I couldn't help but share with her about a common dynamic we both seem to face -- a certain aloofness that can turn to isolation if we're not careful.  At any rate, I was reading my morning devotional from Henri Nouwen.  For the last 5 days, the devo has delved into the topic of loneliness versus solitude.  I loved the distinction he makes, even going so far as to suggest that solitude is absolutely necessary for us to have healthy relationships.  We need to be alone with ourselves and God, he wrote, in order to speak our truths to God and search for answers in God's presence.  Such a reliance on God and a practice of self examination creates the kind of emotional health that helps us stay balanced in our interactions with others where "dependency" is concerned.  At any rate, I wondered, would she like to read these devotionals?  So I reached out and asked her. She said yes, absolutely.  She even went so far as to say she had been thinking about isolation this morning.  So I sent them and we traded a few texts related to the readings and that was that.  Is that overstepping my boundaries?  Again, I don't think so.  I tend to convey a "take what you like and leave the rest" approach with church members when sharing ideas (mine or others) with them.  I hope and pray that keeps them from treating my opinions and comments as infallible.

I suppose I'll wrap this up by claiming that walking the line where relationships is concerned is not exclusively an exercise for clergy.  Certainly everyone should examine their motives in their relationships, get clear on boundaries, and be willing to pull back if things start to take on the hallmarks of co-dependency.  True, Jesus identifies as the second greatest commandment that we should love our neighbor as ourselves.  But that is a far cry from loving our neighbor at the cost of losing ourselves.  Perhaps that is why the greatest commandment is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.  God first and foremost.  Then we are less likely to cross the line by seeking from others what God alone is meant to provide us.