Pastors as Public Mediators

As conflict continues in Flint between its city council and its mayor, an unlikely group has stepped in to mediate: concerned pastors. That’s actually the group’s official name: Concerned Pastors for Social Action. They are a group of local pastors who has worked for years “to ensure that the voice of the people is heard loud and clear among those wanting to hold public office.” The Concerned Pastors have been quite active as Flint’s water crisis unfolded, and they continue to be an influence in their city. They held a news conference at Flint’s city hall this week calling for an end to the “bickering” between the mayor and the city council regarding trash service. They complained that the city government was “dysfunctional,” and recommended that City Councilman Scott Kincaid apologize to Mayor Karen Weaver for belittling comments he made about her. Not many cities have pastors united to help the city government work well, to the point of trying to hold individuals accountable for their public actions. It’s risky business, but these pastors believe it’s part of their calling. May God bless their efforts!

Kill Them With Kindness

A man who overheard women in the next booth talking pejoratively about members of his race decided to fight back – with kindness. The man, an aboriginal in Australia, had a pot of tea delivered to the ladies’ table, along with a note on the receipt that the tea was “compliments of the two aboriginals sitting at the next table.”

I’m reminded of Jesus’ command to love your enemies, and of Paul’s admonition (Romans 12:17, 21) not to repay evil with evil, but to overcome evil with good. As the young man commented on his Facebook post, “I could’ve unleashed a tirade of abuse, but that wouldn’t have helped.” Instead, he was inspired to be a peacemaker.

Would that we all could do the same!

Philippines President Regrets Statement

Philippines President Roderigo Duterte made a comment to a reporter Monday that sounded like he used an expletive to refer to President Obama. The next day he issued a statement saying, “We regret it came across as a personal attack on the U.S. President. We look forward to ironing out differences arising out of national priorities and perceptions, and working in mutually responsible ways for both countries.”

As the media noted, this was not an apology, but it is still apparently unusual for President Duterte to indicate any contrition for his regular profanities against world leaders. This statement of regret was not enough for President Obama to re-schedule the meeting with President Duterte, that President Obama canceled in response to President Duterte’s name-calling.

But it illustrates how different levels of regret play a role in the complicated process of repairing relationships damaged by an offense. Experts in the dispute resolution field, such as Christopher Moore and Darrell Puls, have noted that sometimes the offender isn’t prepared to offer a full-blown apology, but will offer an acknowledgement of responsibility, or a statement of regret, and sometimes that’s all the victim needs to hear. Christopher Moore refers to these as “levels of psychological closure.”

Whether that’s sufficient in this case remains to be seen.

 

Ryan Lochte Apologizes for Behavior in Rio

U.S. Olympics swimmer Ryan Lochte posted a statement on Instagram today, after it came to light that the armed robbery he reported in Rio last weekend wasn’t quite that.

Lochte told an NBC reporter last Sunday that he’d been robbed at gunpoint, but he omitted that he and three friends had damaged a men’s bathroom at a gas station just before that, and that the “robber” — who Lochte told the reporter was dressed as a police officer — was in fact the gas station’s security guard, confronting the Americans after discovering the mess.

This apology is a good attempt but, on closer inspection, it falls short.

His statement starts well: “I want to apologize for my behavior last weekend – for not being more careful and candid in how I described the events of that early morning.” But we can inspect public apologies more carefully: he’s apologizing for the way he described the event, not for the vandalism itself. In fact, he never does apologize for the damage he did to the restroom, which reportedly included ripping down a sign, damaging the door and soap dispenser, and other things. And instead of saying he wasn’t “candid,” why not just say he wasn’t “honest”?

Then he explains how traumatic it is to be out late with your friends in a foreign country “with a language barrier” and be confronted at gunpoint and asked to leave. No doubt this was traumatic – but a statement like this doesn’t belong in an apology, because what the apologizer intends as an explanation sounds to the listener/reader like an excuse. One gets the sense that Lochte still feels that an injustice was done him, perhaps that the security guard over-reacted. Apparently the Americans paid $50 to the gas station owner at the time, and perhaps Lochte feels that he was in effect robbed. It’s tough to write a sincere apology when you feel that you were the real victim.

He goes on to say that he “should’ve been much more responsible in how I handled myself, and for that, I’m sorry.” Exactly what that should’ve looked like, he doesn’t say. As if he’s following a formula, he says he accepts responsibility “for my role in this happening,” without really accepting any responsibility for single-handedly creating an international incident. We wish he’d said, “I misrepresented this incident as if I were an innocent victim, and ended up slandering the reputation of Rio de Janeiro, Olympic athletes, and the U.S.” He adds that he’s “learned some valuable lessons,” without hinting at what those might be.

He’s hoping this will all go away, but one way to make that happen is to issue a sincere apology. Maybe he’ll try again.

Years of Litigation

A 12-year-old Catholic girl goes to confession at her parish church, and tells the priest that she is being fondled by an adult man in the parish. The priest does not report this to anyone. Eventually, it comes to light, but the criminal investigation ends abruptly when the alleged offender dies of a sudden heart attack. The girl’s parents are upset that the priest did nothing to stop the abuse. They sue the priest and the diocese.

That was in 2009. The lawsuit is still going on.

(Skip this paragraph if you’re not interested in the legal details.) The priest claimed that he did not have to report the allegations because they were made during confession, and thus protected by the long-standing tradition that confessions are “sacred communications” that are exempt from the law. For the same reason, he refused to testify in the lawsuit. The trial court denied the diocese’s motion to prevent the priest from testifying; the diocese appealed, and the appeals court agreed with the diocese that the girl’s statements were a confession made within the sacrament of reconciliation, so confidential. The parents appealed to the state Supreme Court, which ruled against the diocese, ruling that the privilege belongs to the person making the confession, not to the priest hearing it. The Supreme Court remanded the case to the trial court to determine whether the priest was a mandatory reporter. The trial court ruled that he was; the diocese appealed, and the appellate court determined recently that he was not.

The alleged abuse occurred in 2008. The lawsuit has been going on for seven years, now entering its second run through the appellate system, without a conclusion. This case illustrates the futility of relying on litigation to resolve some problems. I can’t help wondering what might have happened had this case gone to mediation. As preparation for Christian mediation, each party is encouraged to examine their hearts for any way in which they have contributed to the conflict, and to prepare to confess that to the other party. Is it possible that this priest, who has refused to admit anything in the lawsuit, might agree, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, that he could have done more to help this girl? In an environment of gracious love, out of the harsh public eye, might he concede that he did not act in her best interests? And might she and her family, being reminded of the forgiveness they have in Christ, forgive him? These outcomes are possible in Christian mediation; they’re not possible in litigation.

Even now, it’s not too late. Maybe by now the priest would actually like to acknowledge that he wishes he’d handled it differently; maybe the girl – now an adult — wants to tell him she doesn’t blame him. Litigation all but prevents that, but mediation makes it at least possible.