Conflict in the Body

Post Author: Michelle Bodle

If you asked me before I became a pastor how I dealt with conflict, I would say directly and immediately. Even if you asked me how I dealt with conflict as a pastor, I would give the same answer—until recently. Currently, I am working on a Master of Business Administration in Strategic Leadership at Dakota Wesleyan University, focusing on applying the learnings to the local church. The past two terms have been heavy in discussion about conflict, and I must confess I started to have a new understanding of myself and my role as a pastor in the midst of conflict. 

Most of us were taught that when faced with stressors in life, including conflict, we either fight (react) or flee (avoid). But there is another option, one that I tend to be partial to: to freeze. We don’t talk a lot about this act of freezing, but in the context of church language, this is where I call for a “holy time out.” Sometimes, we need a moment to step away from the table, away from the conversation, to regulate our bodies, so that we can return to a more prayerful posture. 

I will also confess that even if I tend to veer towards this freezing for the sake of a reset, there are other times I lean heavily into reacting or avoiding, which tends to be tied to my presence of mind. Recently, I was in a heated meeting because someone said something they shouldn’t have  (an inside thought that a gentleman tried to pass off as a joke). I reacted severely—very poorly— because I was coming off a week of working too many hours and over-functioning. I took his statements, which shouldn’t have been said in the first place, as an attack on me, which escalated the tension and my resulting words. I would have been in a better space to call for a holy time-out. This could be as simple as saying, “Let’s pray,” or calling for a five-minute break before returning to work before us. 

In a class discussion this week using the Thomas-Kilmann Instrument, an assessment tool around conflict management preferences, I noted that I was surprised that I scored high in avoiding— indicating that it was one of my preferred modes of addressing conflict. I was especially taken aback when, in an explainer video, avoiding was depicted as changing the conversation or asking to reevaluate in a far-off period. What I realized was that the tool wasn’t designed for clergy. So when answering questions such as “I try to do what is necessary to avoid tension” or “I try to do what is necessary to avoid useless tensions,” I came from a different mindset. 

I viewed these questions within the context of what professor and church consultant Lovett Weems has taught me about discerning which conversations and conflicts are worth my time and energy. Weems gave one of the best statements about leading for change that has stuck with me— is this worth spending my coins on? (Weems, Effective and Visionary Leadership, Wesley Theological Seminary, 2019). For Weems, coins symbolize the capital earned by clergy. Some coins are accumulated through goodwill associated with a predecessor or the title and office of clergy, others were gained by consistently showing up for meetings, hospital visits, and funerals. 

Weems stated that each clergyperson has to decide if the proposed leadership change is worth spending these coins on, whether the conversation and potential conflict are important enough to be worth the cost. This is the mindset I approach the Thomas-Kilmann Instrument and my ministry with – sometimes, it just isn’t worth the conflict. I am not going to argue with people about the color of the carpet or other such matters.What may look like fleeing or avoiding, according to the Thomas-Kilmann Instrument, is in fact, my spiritual practice of discerning where to spend my energy and where to call for a holy time out.

At the end of the day, we must discern how to engage each conflict that we experience, not just based on our own preferences, style, or comfort level, but for the sake of the body of Christ. At times, the Spirit may guide us in our discernment to “fight.” “Fighting” may not be the best term, nor our preferred way of addressing a situation, but sometimes we must say hard things and lead people into difficult conversations– because it matters and the situation is worth spending our coins on. In the framework of the Thomas-Kilmann Instrument, this could be assertiveness that manifests itself both in competition and in collaboration. The assertiveness we share when rooted in the relationships that we have with people within the church, can actually lead to win-win situations. 

Of course, we don’t simply focus on relationships within the church, as clergy, but on those outside of the church, especially for the sake of collaboration. One of the hard truths that we get to model for our faith communities is that what we say – or don’t say – and how we say it as people representing the church, can have an impact on our potential for ministry in the wider community.It matters because the way we speak and act, even in casual settings, either builds up or erodes the trust and witness of our shared life in Christ, and the witness that we have as the body in the community. For better or worse, we do not just represent ourselves, but the collective church – which adds more weight to our words and actions, and can hinder or foster the space for collaboration under the Thomas-Kilmann Instrument. Whether it is an off-the-cuff note to a local vendor sent in an envelope bearing the church’s address or the way people speak about their congregation— or the one down the street—our words and actions carry more than personal opinion. We represent the church. And that is worth fighting for. Being assertive over. Being a advocate that calls the church, including its individual members to a higher standard of conduct. It is worth  reminding each other that we are not lone rangers, but a people who represent Christ collectively. 

Before working on my MBA, whenever I thought about conflict, the first thing that came to mind was finding a clear path. I wanted to move onto the other side of the conflict, where relationships were renewed and transformed. However, this class taught me that often, when conflict is present, we are transformed. In other words, conflict is not something to be avoided, ignored, or worked through as quickly as possible to get to the other side, but conflict can be transformative in its own right. 

Yet, that is not the posture the wider world, especially the church, holds towards conflict. Just this week, I was asked about a particular tension point within my congregation, and I honestly said that we have been dealing with the conflict by pretending it does not exist. Even in my church, we sometimes avoid talking about conflict and assume that everyone in the congregation holds the same viewpoint as each other, which is not true. 

I say this because the world around the church is looking for a different way to communicate. A better way. One that isn’t just saying whatever you please without thinking about who you represent, nor not saying anything at all, paralyzed by fear of conflict that may come. Instead, I want to work for a way to articulate what we truly stand for as the body of Christ and prophetically communicate those values in a way that matters. This means learning to live  into the bold dance between representing God, a particular local church, and being fully myself – even in the midst of conflict. 

I was recently in a meeting with colleagues where I led a devotional about dreaming of the church’s future. I asked each person to write down their dream and share it as they felt led. One of these colleagues said something profound—that he dreamed of a church where we did not avoid conflict but showed a different way for conflict to bear fruit. I do not have it all figured out yet, but I want to be in conversation with people who are walking this same path—the path of a different way to live into conflict for the sake of the body of Christ. And, I want to invite my congregation on that journey as well. We will surely make mistakes, but let us make sure that what we represent matters and reflects the very heart of our God: justice and mercy, hope and faith, and above all else, love.