“Oh, we don’t talk about that …”
This spring, the Parents’ Group at the parish I serve (St. Paul’s in Murfreesboro, Tenn.) undertook a Christian education series we affectionally called “Can o’ Worms.” We talked about some of the “thats” about which one doesn’t talk: Those topics we studiously avoid at extended family gatherings, dinner parties, and other polite company, including immigration, warfare, race, personhood, Taylor Swift, others. Each week, we opened a particular “can” and brought our questions, musings, and disagreements to the conversation. Politically, St. Paul’s is a “purple” congregation, and that diversity is evident in our Parents’ Group as well.
Why did we do this? First and foremost, because we believe that parents are the primary disciplers of their children. Thus, the church’s responsibility is to equip parents to disciple their children. Do we want to cede these important and complicated conversations entirely to influencers and peers? No! That means we need to figure out how to engage these questions ourselves.
Second, shouldn’t Christians be the very people who can, in fact, talk about the things that are hard to talk about? The church is a community whose members are unequivocally for each other. At least this is our aspiration. Paraphrasing Ephesians 4, we are to grow up together, building each other up in love, rooting for each other. Edification, not consensus, is the goal.
With this in mind, that parents are the primary disciples of our children and in order to disciple well we need to build each other up, we developed a model for conversation based on three sets of three: three assumptions of group dynamics, three theological questions, and three sources of authority. Each week, we framed our discussion with these “three threes.” While the content of the discussions was interesting, our parents found that the most rewarding aspect of our series was engaging in this method.
Three Assumptions of Group Dynamics
- Assume goodwill. Everyone in the room is for one another, wants each other to thrive as parents, and wants all of our kids to flourish.
- Assume diversity of thought/opinion/belief. We all bring histories, personalities, and perspectives to the conversation.
- Assume incomplete understanding. I don’t fully comprehend the complexities of the given topic, and nor does anyone else in the group.
As we embraced these three assumptions, they became norms for us. They built a culture of generosity, curiosity, and appropriate vulnerability.
Three Theological Questions
These questions provide the entry point into questions of specific moral or ethical discernment, or how Christians figure out how to live in the world. They build upon each other. If you cannot answer yes to the first, there’s no point in progressing to the second, and so forth.
- Do you believe that God loves you (or us)? We had consensus on this question: yes!
- Do you believe that God has a plan for you (or us)? We did not have consensus here, at least not at first. People felt the language was too mechanical. But, if God loves us, this means in the broadest possible way then there is a “best for us.” God does have a plan or desire of rightness for us.
- How do we find out what that “best for us” plan of God is? Here we enter the heart of moral discernment, and disagreement. But it’s important to reiterate: there is no point attempting to answer this question as a community if we cannot answer the first two affirmatively. If we do not believe that a loving God has a plan for our wholeness, there is no use trying to figure out what that plan might look like.
Three Sources of Authority
If we do believe that God loves us and has a plan for us, our Anglican/Episcopal heritage gives us parameters for discovering what this plan might look like: Scripture, tradition, and reason. As we explored the different topics each week, we integrated these three sources into our conversation. We looked at the lectionary texts assigned for that Sunday. We consulted the Book of Common Prayer, and I offered some historical resources (especially regarding just war and pacifism). Under the broad category of reason, people brought their vocational expertise and wisdom as educators, lawyers, contractors, homemakers, craftsmen, and more.
We did not solve any of the problems at hand. Nor did we reach consensus. But we did build each other up in love. We are better equipped to disciple our children, as imperfectly as that discipleship will always be. And I believe that as this smallish group of parents practices hard conversations, it will be like yeast mixed into the whole batch of dough, generating greater capacity within our entire congregation to prayerfully, thoughtfully, and authentically engage the crucial conversations of moral discernment in our time.
In a world drowning in hot takes and reactivity, Christians need a different way. We need structures that intentionally enable gospel oriented, care-filled conversation. St. Paul’s “three threes” model is one that I commend to you, mostly so that you can take it and make it better!
