Blood in the Water
There are rules for certain professions. Attorney/client privilege gives people a measure of security in the legal arena. Medical professionals have to abide by strict confidentiality rules.
But what are the rules when you are dealing with a pastor? The Roman Catholic tradition protects the privacy of the confessional booth. But what about us Protestants?
Do pastors give a second thought to the privilege of serving a congregation when it comes to holding their tongues? Would they testify against their congregations in court? What about during those ministerium gatherings?
Pardon me if these questions seem disrespectful.
I really have to wonder. Our congregation was unfairly pitted against our denomination, which eyed our property and was looking for any excuse to exercise claims. To our members’ shock and disappointment, we found former pastors fueling the flames. Our pastors were approached by those leading the vendetta. We knew that. The trustees report said they had spoken to former pastors. Was that appropriate? Did they talk to all our pastors or just those with an axe to grind? Shouldn’t a church member be present to balance the story? What the report didn’t say was that the former pastors they approached had left our congregation more than a decade before. One of them left under a cloud. The focus was on defaming the laity.
It supposedly started with a letter to the bishop from a supply pastor who we had recently stopped using. He had worked with us on and off for years but we were working with a new membership with African roots. We had found two pastors who could better served our changing community. He had come to think of himself as our pastor. But he wasn’t. He supplied our pulpit. That’s all.
His vindictive letter told of a small argument that had happened about six weeks before we stopped using him. It was old news before word got to the bishop. He left out one fact. He won the argument. The congregation agreed to his wishes with only the briefest exchange. Not much more than a minute! It was no big deal. Simple gossip quickly became bearing false witness.
Other pastors participating in the congregation-bashing were well-liked. Much more, we trusted them.
The tone of the dispute was set early on. No holds barred. Facts and context no longer matter. Blood was in the water.
What would possess clergy to engage in hateful gossip ten or fifteen years later?
- Do they feel a commanding loyalty to a bishop?
- Does it give them an adrenalin rush that woke them from their retirement?
- Do they like the attention?
- Were they disappointed in their own performance?
- Do they believe the people they served deserve hurtful attention? So long has passed there is one more question—
- Do they even know anyone in the congregation they babble on about any more?
We laity must ask a few more questions.
- Where is the gospel in all this?
- Can we trust our pastor with our concerns, whether personal or for the church?
- Do our words get reported to hierarchy behind closed doors?
- Will they be shared at the clergy coffee urn?
- Can we trust supply pastors?
- Will our confidences be pulled out of the context, important details trimmed for effect?
- Will the stories grow?
Of course the gossip will grow. It will spread like sin. It will become sport. There is no incentive to check facts. Pastors wouldn’t lie! No one will question the motives of the tellers. Only the most privileged laity will be allowed in.
Clergy gossip is massively destructive. It will become part of church culture. Collars will be donned for grand celebrations of church closings. Clergy won’t be blamed for failure. There are plenty of laity to carry that burden! And we deserve it—according to the gossip! No one will wonder if things could have been different, if one loving word might have been more powerful.