Pursuing the Third Option
“The oppressed, instead of striving for liberation, tend themselves to become oppressors.”[1] I find truth in that Paulo Freire’s quote from my own life. Long ago, being picked on in school easily led me to be the offender rather than on the receiving side. One might conclude there are only two places to reside – the oppressed or the oppressor. A notable exception of the above principle is found on a national scale in post-apartheid South Africa. Both Nelson Mandela in “A Long Walk Toward Freedom” and Bishop Desmond Tutu in “No Future Without Forgiveness” detail in autobiographical fashion the revolutionary path from a nation darkly divided along racial lines to a bright future as a nation united and reconciled. Both men relate the profound choice not to seek, at best, justice and, at worst, vengeance against systemic racism and abuse rivaling any other version of it. There exists a challenging third option to resolve abuses.
Since Bishop Tutu served as a member of the clergy, I will focus my reflection on his work and its relevance to my role as a pastor. My first significant impression comes from theology applied to real, hard life. The ability to work through the abuses of apartheid while pursuing the vision of a future not yet realized startled me in the reading. I remember the occasional news story about protests in South Africa in the 1980s. I even heard first-hand accounts of life there during apartheid from my wife who was born and raised in the outskirts of Johannesburg. Unlike the general news reports of protests, the specific acts of apartheid sounded like they came from a camp named Auschwitz. Tutu relates the application of theological truth to the jagged edges of dehumanization to achieve a united future that inspires hope in the most hopeless situations. Tutu states, “As I grow older I am pleasantly surprised at how relevant theology has become in my perception.”[2] As he sought to understand the reluctance of perpetrators of apartheid abuse to take responsibility for their offenses, the ancient story of Adam and Eve evading their guilt served as a source of comprehension. When people wanted to cast abusers as monsters, Tutu’s theology argued against it. “Theology reminded me that, however diabolical the act, it did not turn the perpetrator into a demon . We had to distinguish between the deed and the perpetrator, between the sinner and the sin.”[3] Tutu also drew from theology an inclusion that sounds Augustinian in its understanding of total depravity as the human condition for all, not just some. He states, “…there is an awful depth of depravity to which we could all sink, that we possess an extraordinary capacity for evil.”[4] Could it be that theology lent the strength to see past horrific individual acts and steer the Truth and Reconciliation Commission toward confession and reconciliation rather than conviction and punishment? I believe so.
A second lasting impression comes from the power of confession. Under the offer of amnesty, many perpetrators detailed horrific atrocities committed during apartheid. One account portrayed a hostile crowd present at the meeting with law enforcement personnel who committed crimes from their position of authority. Hostility transformed after the honest confession and ownership of their actions, eliciting an ovation by the witnesses. James 5:16 directs people to “…confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed.” (ESV) In my spiritual journey, the first part of the verse received emphasis, not the latter. Reading about the power of confession to bring healing to both sides of abuses brought a new emphasis to James’ command. I’ve understood the ability of confession to benefit the individual in counseling situations and twelve-step programs. When someone stands up and announces, “Hi, my name is _____, and I’m an alcoholic” and receives the reply, “Hi _____,” acceptance after admission serves a vital function in the recovery process. However, the fear of being truly known as we are can lead us to shade the truth in avoidance or outright denial. The TRC created an environment in which the fears of telling the truth about oneself were gone.
As I reflected on the dynamics of confession and healing, I thought about the church. Long ago, I heard a statement that goes something like this: “The church is a hospital for the hurting, not a hotel for the holy.” But is it? When people struggle with hurts, habits, or hang-ups and want to find freedom, do they think of the church first, or even at all? Some do but in the American culture, I would venture to say that most do not. Every church possesses a culture, whether by design or by default. Borrowing the title of Simon P. Walker, the undefended leader can establish a culture of honesty and acceptance. Leaders must “go first” to set the boundaries for what is acceptable, even celebrated in any local church community. Will spiritual leaders possess the courage to tell the truth about themselves? That step can not only free the leader but the entire community. “The true leader must at some point or other convince her or his followers that she or he is in the whole business not for self-aggrandizement but for the sake of others.”[5]
[1] https://www.freire.org/quotes-by-paulo-freire, accessed August 30, 2022.
[2] Desmond Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness (New York: Doubleday, 1999), 82.
[3] Ibid. 83.
[4] Ibid., 144.
[5] Ibid., 39.
About the Author
Roy Gruber
Husband, father, pastor, student, and sojourner in Babylon11 responses to “Pursuing the Third Option”
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Roy,
I appreciated your reflection through the eyes of a pastor. Though I no longer work in the local church, I work for our denomination’s churches and pastor to pastors.
I was also struck by the pastoral fortitude of Tutu to do the hard thing. I often found myself wondering while reading his book if American pastors have the fortitude and grit to take a stand and do the right thing. Unfortunately, I believe far too many are wrapped up in the religion of White Christian Nationalism to even consider standing against things like systemic racism, gender and sexual identity inequities, and the upward mobility of the economically marginalized.
Andy/Roy:
Picking up Andy’s comment, I thought you both might find this recent pastoral research interesting: https://research.lifeway.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/02/Pastors-Sept-2021-Racial-Reconciliation-Report.pdf
I’d love to know the ethnic/racial breakdown of the 1000 respondents, especially if it were broken down on each response. I’m wondering if you two face similar attitudes to this survey and how you help encourage/challenge other pastors to move towards what may be uncomfortable for them in terms of tackling this like racism in more concrete ways.
Andy (and Kayli), thanks for you questions and thoughts. Andy, I sadly agree that too many pastors fight the wrong battles in our cultural moment. In our context, from time to time, people have wanted the church to publicly join the Christian Nationalist agenda. When we refuse to do so, those folks move on quickly. I think Friedman would challenge clergy to stand for what they believe in even if it offends some. The reality is that you are going to get criticized no matter what you do. You might as well face criticism for what you truly believe rather than trying to appease all. Kayli, every time a passage lends itself to talking about the racism as opposed to God’s vision for His community, we take that opportunity. Utah culture has a history of deep racial divides and that sin lingers if even unspoken. There was a time until recently where people of color could not hold positions of authority in the LDS church. That changed in 1976. A long time ago, the LDS church taught that colored skin was a sign of sin and if someone of color converted, their skin would turn white. Our gathering of local pastors includes the issue of race and reconciliation often in its discussions. While our state has a very low percentage of African-Americans, it does have large amounts of Latinos and Pacific Islanders. Personally, I look to put diverse ethnic groups into visible positions of leadership.
Roy thank you for your ponderings.
The third way clearly has theological teeth. What might you say to those who say, but what about the need for taking responsibility for your actions? Confession is all good but the third way lets people off the hook for dealing with consequences.
Nicole, thanks for you question. I see the TRC as a unique case where there existed a need to hear true stories and suspending the consequences would be the only way to get to the truth. In our own context, confession sometimes means enduring the consequences of our actions. I remember years ago, when I spoke to a man convicted of sexually assaulting his 14 year old niece. The evidence was overwhelming but he denied it. I saw him in a federal maximum security prison. I encouraged him to tell the truth no matter how hard. “The truth will set you free” in his case meant freedom from the issue but the sentence. In my post, I thought about the addiction, the hurt, the codepency, etc. so common but few thoughts about taking those issues to the church for help and healing. We run a Celebrate Recovery ministry on Tuesday nights and the stories of those who have confessed deep hurts and found freedom after exposing their secret through confession to God and others fuels a desire in me to welcome more in that safe environment. If there’s a consequence, let’s walk with them through that as well.
Roy thank you for sharing about Celebrate Recovery. I thought it is provocative your thought that the consequence invites walking with them in that as well. That is very powerful. That requires an investment in restorative justice that is absent I think in our legal system and quite frankly in our church systems.
Roy, a great read. I also enjoyed your perspective “through the eyes of a pastor.” Tutu was a powerful demonstration to me of the pathway of reconciliation. I admire his approach and mercy as he sought to restore broken, hate-filled relationships.
As you think of your congregation, what is your critique of the church? Are you a hospital for the sick or a gathering of the holy? I am guessing it is a little of both.
Eric, thanks for you question. You are right in say that our church is a mixture of both. I would like to say that we are more a “hospital” than ever before. Years ago, we made the conscious decision to engage our surrounding community with compassion. I often reflect on a conversation with a co-worker in a construction company when I was working my way through school. He was struggling in his marriage and I invited him to come to church with me. He had a church background but had not attended anywhere in years. When I invited him, this was his reply: “I already feel bad enough about myself – why would I go there!” Whether it’s perception or reality, the church carries the reputation of judging not healing. I believe engaging people with compassion changes the perception many carry for the better.
Roy: Nice insights with Tutu and his Augustinian underpinnings. His theology was tested by the depravity of Apartheid. There was so much injustice and so much evil done in the name of political stability for decades in that country. I appreciated his candor in the difficulty in took to go the Third Way. There was some profound wisdom that moved the country forward from all different areas of society: the judicial arm, the police, educational institutions, and of course political considerations.
Roy,
Interesting look! The two sides oppressed and oppressor, could there be another that needs to be address? Where does the apathetic bystander come in? Did the TRC do enough to address this group of individuals?
Roy, I loved reading your reflection on the two books of Rev. Desmond Tutu, “No Future Without Forgiveness” and Nelson Mandela, “A Long Walk Towards Freedom,” especially your reflection on Rev. Tutu’s application of theological truth to Apartheid that he likens to “the jagged edges of dehumanization to achieve a united future that inspires hope in the most hopeless situations.” “As he sought to understand the reluctance of perpetrators of apartheid abuse to take responsibility for their offenses, the ancient story of Adam and Eve evading their guilt served as a source of comprehension. When people wanted to cast abusers as monsters, Tutu’s theology argued against it. “Theology reminded me that, however diabolical, the act did not turn the perpetrator into a demon. We had to distinguish between the deed and the perpetrator, between the sinner and the sin.” Tutu also drew from theology an inclusion that sounds Augustinian in its understanding of total depravity as the human condition for all, not just some. He states, “…there is an awful depth of depravity to which we could all sink, that we possess an extraordinary capacity for evil.” Could it be that theology lent the strength to see past horrific individual acts and steer the Truth and Reconciliation Commission toward confession and reconciliation rather than conviction and punishment? I believe so.” This is a deep understanding that can only be by revelation; I would have liked to know your thoughts about the current Israel/Palestinian conflict and whether this theological truth can apply and help resolve the longstanding dispute.