How our stand is received is determined more by how we treat people than how we marshal our argument.
— Jack Hayford
At a convention attended by several thousand ministers and church leaders, I was scheduled to bring the second plenary message. The first speaker was a close friend, and as I sat on the platform listening to his message, I was deeply troubled.
He was speaking about a prominent leader who had recently failed morally. Yet in his effort to show forgiveness and acceptance, I felt he was glossing over the biblical requirements for being restored to leadership. I was more troubled when the majority of the congregation responded with applause and amens. They were affirming the principle of forgiveness, which I, of course, fully endorsed. But they were not being led to discern the other side of the issue: this leader must, by biblical standards, enter a time of accountable restoration.
I was about to follow my friend in the pulpit, and my spirit was pressed to bring balance into the situation. But how could I do that without embarrassing and alienating a dear and respected friend? Without spilling ice water on the conference? Without sounding like a Pharisee?
I was at a loss. I was traveling with a pastoral staff member, who was seated beside me on the platform, and I leaned over and admitted, “I don’t know if I can get up and speak.”
An unpopular stand is never easy but sometimes necessary: to confront unbalanced teachings, tether straying programs, address financially wasteful practices, or lead where no one has thought of going or was willing to lead before.
Unlike the best-selling book title, influencing people doesn’t always win friends. Like Caleb and Joshua, who were nearly stoned when they insisted on going into the Promised Land, our unpopular stand can lead to the loss of consensus or momentum, alienate leaders, or even get us fired or excommunicated.
But that doesn’t have to be the case. Having taken a number of unpopular stands over the years, I’ve learned a few things that have prevented Hayford’s Last Stand.
Danger from Within
An unpopular stand is dangerous not only from without but especially from within. We risk sins of the heart. We may be sorely tempted in a number of ways.
No matter how many verses buttress my belief, how much my experience bolsters my position, or how many people support my cause, if I assume I cannot and have not missed something on an issue, then I’ve surrendered to pride. All of us do have some truth, but none of us has all the truth. We can know “truths,” including knowing Christ, the Truth. But that doesn’t mean that any of us should presume that we know it all.
For example, if there’s anything I’m convinced of, it is of my own sinfulness and need of the Savior. But no matter how fully I have grieved over past sin or how despicable present temptation may be to me, I’m a fool if I suppose I understand all the depth of all the evil inherent in “sin.” Surely I know evil is wrong, but who among us grasps the full dimensions of evil?
If so foundational a truth as sin’s sinfulness outstrips my full comprehension, how much more the controversial and less developed themes of Scripture!
I also have to be careful not to overreact. One year because I was speaking out of town several days prior to our Palm Sunday program, I missed the final rehearsal. Our music director gave me a tape of the rehearsal, to help prepare me to emcee the program.
As I listened to the cassette, one number, a rendition of “The Old Rugged Cross” orchestrated and arranged by some of our musicians, troubled me. The song seemed too jazzy. Our church employs most musical styles, so jazz was not of itself a problem. But following an earlier seasonal program, we had agreed with our musicians to employ only one jazz arrangement per program. By my count “The Old Rugged Cross” was the second jazz piece in the Easter program.
What irked me, however, was that halfway through the song our saxophone improvisation “tore it up.” Even at the rehearsal the choir had begun cheering, captivated by the performance and oblivious to the song’s theme. I thought, They’re cheering the death of Jesus Christ! They’re not cherishing the old rugged cross. They’re cheering a guy having a fit on a horn! I was furious.
Since the program was to take place that night, I immediately called Jim, our music director, and asked him to come to my office. When we met, I was angry.
When my fury was spent, Jim said, “Jack, the last thing I want is to do something that would hurt you this much.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I said, a little more controlled now. “I can’t handle this number. Of course, I understand your problem: everyone’s worked hard on it, and we can’t just say, in effect, ‘We don’t like you, and we don’t like your song.'”
Jim ventured further, patient with my frustration: “Jack, do you know how the arrangement came about?”
I didn’t know, obviously, so Jim suggested I meet with Bob, the arranger of the song, to get his perspective.
Just two hours before the program, we met in my office. I learned that in the musicians’ minds, the song wasn’t technically a jazz number, so, to begin, he hadn’t violated our “one-jazz-arrangement” policy. He went on to explain that the saxophone’s intent in the improvisation was to express his exhilaration over being set free by Christ’s death on the cross, that at “The Old Rugged Cross” his sins were taken away! As I interacted further I was moved to tears. I knew what I would do.
That night at the concert, before “The Old Rugged Cross,” I took time to “set up” the song. I said frankly, “Some of you might misunderstand the upcoming song. The arrangement could offend you. But let me invite you to hear a story first.” I called Bob to the microphone, and he explained his feelings, which included a beautiful testimony of how he first conceived the arrangement.
During the song, God’s presence was powerfully felt. I didn’t invite people to make a decision to follow Christ at that moment (though we did later), but I could have. Like my wife, many who usually do not appreciate jazz told me afterward they loved it.
Instead of a disaster, with musicians in revolt or half the congregation offended, “The Old Rugged Cross” became a highlight of the evening. That would have been lost, however, if Jim, our music director, had not graciously weathered my blast and helped me wisely tackle a difficult situation. Temper tantrums, extremism, and knee-jerk decisions can cut the legs from beneath a leader taking an unpopular stand.
I also try to avoid the temptations to debate or prematurely attack. Because we are tempted to assume that “God waves my flag,” we “cavalry charge” into an unpopular stand, seeking to outargue our “opponents.” But crossing swords is hardly the best way to enlist supporters.
Trying to help everyone understand each other better accomplishes more. Usually we labor against stereotypes of the opposition. Dialogue helps us deal honestly with what people really think.
Furthermore, if the broader body of Christ is struggling with an issue, we may be wiser to wait before hastening comment. I don’t have to verify my prophetic role by being the first to address a tough subject. Christian journals are often the best forum for looking at controversial topics. In fact, we’ll sometimes distribute articles in the congregation for their consideration.
Instead of saying, “This is what I believe about school prayer,” I’m wiser sometimes to say, “Have you heard Jim Dobson’s recent and helpful comments?” In other words, as a pastor I don’t always have to mount a horse and be the first to charge into battle.
Motives that Motivate
The purer our motives, the higher the ground we stand on — and the more likely people will give us a hearing. Here are five motives I want to have.
• To promote unity. In 1989, the Lausanne Congress on World Evangelism invited me to speak at their Manila conference on the subject, “Signs and Wonders in Evangelism.” I was specifically asked also to lead in an extended time of worship and prayer following my message.
My objective was not to argue a viewpoint. Rather, I had been asked to deal with this theme because honest leaders, of all doctrinal and denominational stripes, acknowledged that God is doing mighty miracles all over the world. The implications for all our evangelistic ministries are great, so the conference leadership wanted the subject addressed. I was humbled to be asked, of course, and I sought to be gracious and thorough in presentation.
Afterward as I walked back to my hotel, it was dark, and a line of people behind and before me moved slowly. Among the conversations, I heard someone ahead say, referring to my message, “Praise God! There’s one for our side.”
When I heard that, I ached. I hadn’t unleashed a broadside, and I had no desire to break people into camps. I had intended to promote unity by calling attention to a larger truth (and many people affirmed I did). But this one person seemed to think only in terms of a “fight,” and unity as a goal was hardly understood.
• To avoid polemics. When and if I take an unpopular stand, I do so not merely because I believe it’s true but also because I believe it’s life. Jesus called himself the way, the truth, and the life, and watching him we see how he presented truth: fostering and nourishing life. A good surgeon doesn’t slash, gouge, and rip out but cuts delicately and gently — to heal.
Ultimately people are more important to God than principles. I don’t mean that I sacrifice principles, because right principles always further our welfare. But if we only relate to principles, as simply truth and not as truth to set people free, we’ll end up arguing for mere principles, violating the heart of God.
For example, I’m a strong believer in tithing, which for some is an unpopular stand. Recently, some months after I had spoken on tithing, a staff member informed me that one couple was downgrading their affiliation with our church from membership to partnership status (the membership commitment includes a commitment to tithe). And they were not the only ones in the church for whom tithing was suddenly becoming controversial. I also learned that two prominent radio ministers had recently argued against tithing in a series of messages; they felt it wasn’t a New Testament idea.
In response I wrote an article for our church publication. I didn’t wage an assault on the radio speakers or the people in our church, but I did confront the issue. I approached it from the perspective of God’s goodness — wanting to bring, through “release” of our tithing, a beautiful financial and spiritual release. The purpose of tithing, I communicated, is life not law.
I later went to the home of a couple who were unsure about tithing and felt hurt by my article. I didn’t argue with them. I simply loved them. I emphasized that God wasn’t against them, nor was I. I wasn’t there to stomp out heresy but to help people find life in God’s Word and ways.
• To bring discernment. Real life problems are complex, often too complex to be answered with one or two proof texts. Only through mature discernment can we understand God’s heart, understand Scripture in context, and see how Scripture applies to individual situations. Rather than tossing a blanket principle over every problem, I seek to foster understanding. Well-discerned truth fosters life and never violates truth or love.
• To build, maintain, or strengthen relationships. If I “set people straight” but alienate or offend them, what have I gained? I may be right, but my approach has been wrong. In the end I probably do more harm than good; I will not have served any value beyond my own self-or cause-justifying efforts.
So in the process of taking an unpopular stand, I hope to make friends, not enemies. Even though there will be disagreement, I want to build a relationship so we can communicate in the future. If I bruise or break off relations, my input into a person’s life is over, so I need to “speak the truth in love.”
Many times after I have taken an unpopular stand or presented an opposing position, people have said to me, “I still don’t agree with what you said, but I never heard anybody say it like that.” They’ve not become my enemy. I may not have won them to my position, but I have won them relationally.
People Skills
Whether or not our stand is well-received is determined more by how we treat people than how we marshal our argument. The spirit in which I take my stand is as important as what I say. Six guidelines enable me to champion a cause in a generous, gracious, and loving fashion.
1. Acknowledge how my stand affects others. I try not to take a stand until I feel empathy and compassion — until I understand what my stand will mean to the other party, how it is difficult or painful for them. For example again, when I challenge people to tithe, I may say, “Tithing may seem impossible for you. You may feel I’m asking you to live in religious poverty or ignore your financial obligations. Worse, you might suspect I’m trying to build a church program at your expense.
“Nothing could be farther from the truth. I know you have to pay utilities and a mortgage, buy shoes for your kids and eventually send them to college. I want you to have everything you need and more. I want to see your home and finances blessed by God in a way you could never accomplish yourself. And I believe God ordains that when we tithe.”
2. Respect the motives of dissenters. I respect others when I recognize (a) they are as committed to truth as I am, and (b) they believe they are serving some worthy value or ideal.
To some extent, all of us have mixed or undiscerned motives, but few of us intentionally and maliciously seek wrong. Granted, some who oppose our stand may be uninformed or misguided, but we need to remember they might not realize that. I need to relate to what they think they’re doing.
So I try to discover what values others are serving. What are their goals? What is most important to them? What is at stake for them and why?
When I became angry with our musicians over the Easter program, I listened to their case. Having a respect for their intent, I said, “We all want the same thing: We want to minister to people. We want to serve this church. We want to worship Christ. Please help me see how this song does that.”
By respecting that my perceived opponent has a right motive, a climate of love and understanding can be fostered. Especially as it concerns church direction, we can work together. I can help promote their goals or help them see how my goals serve their values. We can discuss options that help us both fulfill the values we think are important.
If I don’t give options that serve others’ values, I force people to buy into my position. I’d rather try to find a win-win solution.
3. Acknowledge the truth in dissenters’ positions. Especially if I’m about to oppose a popular view, I have to assume that the popular position has some inherent truth. Undoubtedly, verses can be marshaled as “proof texts.”
Therefore I genuinely concede any truth in others’ positions. I do so with conviction, not as a patronizing concession, not like a baseball pitcher who uses a slow, benign windup only to uncork a 100 mph, high, inside fastball, bent on intimidating the batter.
For example, most in my denomination want to hold a dispensational approach to the Book of Revelation. I knew when I departed from that position, some might equate that change with something tantamount to denying the Virgin Birth. But by affirming the scholarship that lay behind the prevailing view, I allayed doubts and gained a hearing.
After I acknowledge the truth in someone else’s position, of course, like Paul Harvey I give the rest of the story.
4. Approach issues positively. In the conference mentioned in the introduction of this chapter, I did find the wherewithal to step to the pulpit and preach. Rather than clubbing my friend, however, I began from a positive stance, describing our calling to a priestly ministry of praise, and as priests, to a life of holiness and purity before the Lord. I spoke about how the priests had to exemplify holiness to the congregation, how they had to meet certain requirements as leaders, and then applied that to the leaders who had fallen.
People respond more favorably to a positive approach. The positive approach points people in a specific, attractive direction. Feistiness is the product of self-righteousness. But humility breeds a positive approach. It will leave people wanting to do the right thing, and for the right reason. They understand more fully why the right is right, rather than just why the wrong is wrong. A positive approach shows others you are interested in them — not just in being right. It is virtually impossible to criticize most people without being perceived as attacking them.
5. Affirm your relationship. “These men who have fallen are my friends,” I assured those attending the convention. “Despite any failures, I respect them. I don’t want to say or do anything that would hinder that friendship.”
Opponents of my stand need to know I identify with them. We are on the same side, in the same camp, on the same team. Although we now differ over an issue, that issue will not rupture our relationship. No matter what position they take, I’m committed to them; I’m for them. I demonstrate that acceptance by going out of my way to greet them warmly and acknowledge them.
6. Attend to the heart. One of the most unfruitful assumptions we can make is that we can change, reach, or grow people primarily through their brain. When you take an unpopular stand, information, facts, and logic may seem to you to prove your point, but they will seldom win your detractors. So I try to reach others through their hearts, through love and respect for them, through showing them how my emotions have been affected by the issue, through telling them I deeply care about the issue and them.
This characterizes my efforts and approach whether I’m dealing with a fellow Christian (say, of a different doctrinal stance) or a fellow citizen of my nation (say, who supports gay rights). In each case, though we may disagree significantly we share something in common, even if it’s only our humanity.
One pastor I know felt the need to change his church’s name. The current name described his church in theological terms, which confused those unfamiliar with his denomination. But he also knew a name change could seem to be a slap in the face to his leaders, and he knew that logic alone wouldn’t win them over.
So he proposed the idea to some of the leaders in an exploratory fashion, acknowledging, “I know our church’s name is important to you, and I value your feelings and respect our tradition. I don’t want to appear to walk over anyone’s feelings. But could you help me? I think possibly a new name could help us be more accessible, help us more effectively reach out to the unchurched.”
Acknowledging the feelings of the older leaders helped his elders respond flexibly. A key leader in the church said, “You’re right. If we change the name, it will be like losing an old friend. But let’s think of a way to affirm our history yet be open to tomorrow. If a new name will help others find the Lord, I certainly want to be open.”
They did. And within a short time, their church did change the name without conflict.
The Right Time to Take a Stand
The timing of our stand influences how it will be received. Here are some indicators of the right moment.
For instance, I try to take a stand when it will least embarrass others. I probably could have avoided that stressful confrontation with my friend’s ideas on the convention platform. The night before at a banquet for forty leaders, my friend had made similar comments. His words troubled me then, but I didn’t say anything, even in private. Of course, I didn’t know he would repeat his words the next day before the huge conference crowd. If I had guessed he might do as much, I would have gone to him and raised questions personally. I believe he would have at least balanced his comments the next day and probably omitted them completely.
I’ll also take a stand when it’s now or never. Although on that Palm Sunday afternoon, after four morning services, I was not in the best mood to talk to the musicians, there was no time to lose. Under such circumstances, I don’t wait until I have all the answers before I begin talking to people. I need information and perspective before I ensconce myself in a position that can become unpopular. I admit, “I don’t know what to do right now, but I know we need to talk.”
But such urgency is the exception: in the local church few things have to be said right now. There are usually other meetings coming up or another means of communication that will make understanding easier, and so reduce the likelihood of conflict.
Of course, I want to wait until God gives clear direction. For example, we were bogged down over an issue at our denominational business meeting. As I reread the resolution in question, I noticed that by changing one word the controversy could be solved. I went to the microphone, acknowledged the validity of both arguments, and then proposed the word change that would please both sides.
It was accepted, and the resolution passed promptly. As I reflected later, I concluded that God had spoken that single word into my heart. There is no better time to act than when we feel God has given “a word of wisdom.”
Dealing with the Fallout
To take an unpopular stand always holds the possibility of unpleasant fallout. I don’t count on it — I hope to avert it. I relate to people gently so as to prevent it. But there are no limits to how people can misread one another. Then I have to patch up relationships. I may have to explain and re-explain. I need to keep my ear to the ground to learn if others may misinterpret me.
For example, if I know someone quits a church duty or leaves the church, I try to do one of two things, if there is any chance that will help. First, I accept the responsibility for the “failure” they perceive has taken place. I figure there is no use arguing my righteousness. By their views, we’ve done or said something that should not have been done or said. I don’t apologize for what’s been done (unless an apology is in order); I simply acknowledge my role in the affair and my concern about their leaving.
Second, if I can do it in good conscience, if it’s a matter of Christian disagreeing with Christian, I’ll “bless them,” literally announcing my favor about their decision, so they leave without any rancor against me or me against them.
The result is that most people feel “heard” and “understood,” and many return to their responsibility or to membership.
During any unpopular stand, my goal is less to win friends than to influence people. But I’ve found that by speaking the truth with a spirit of love, respect, and consideration, friendship and influence often go hand in hand.
Copyright © 1993 by Christianity Today
