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Lessons From an Unfriend

Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, Don Meeks and Jeff Krehbiel are curating “Can We Talk?”, a modest attempt at an uncommonly gracious conversation among colleagues who differ on matters of conscience. Can we bridge the theological differences that divide us? Can we even talk about them? Can we affirm the best in each other’s theological tradition while honestly confessing the weaknesses of our own? We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Joe Duffus

The surprise election of Donald Trump exposed a social media truth: people who are intimidated into silence, or who don’t feel safe sharing their politics, won’t. They avoid tipping their hand, lie to pollsters and harden their opinions in response.

Arguing politics or theology on Facebook is always fraught with risks. Who will see me at my political boiling point, judge me for opinions that might outrage them? Will speaking out threaten my job?

facebook_laptopWhat about my friendships online and off? I meet and befriend people on Facebook I may have met through work, school, church or some other shared interest, because they lived on my street or just that our children played together on a sports team. Friends may come into your life for “a reason, for a season or for a lifetime,” as the poem says.

Faced with these risks, many people avoid such topics and engagement on social media. They hold their tongue and scroll, scroll, scroll. Others may comment upon a friend’s post, but avoid posting something political themselves. Very dramatic people may preemptively command anyone who would dare disagree with them to “JUST UNFRIEND ME NOW!”

And when is Facebook finally going to offer that “sarcasm font” that everyone seems to want?

I have carried on lengthy political debates over Facebook with all sorts of friends. And I have felt the silent sting of having been “de-friended” by some friends who must have concluded I was a temporary friend “for a reason,” as the poem says,

“Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end… Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.”

It’s sad to lose a friend this way, but the poem gives us license to risk it if we feel strongly enough about our beliefs. As long as I have conducted myself with dignity and respect for those who won’t agree with my position, I willingly take that risk when I hit that “reply” link.

I am fortunate to have some friends I always disagree with about politics, or who don’t share my religious faith. Their differences from me always weigh in my mind when I discuss politics, whether online or off. But online it’s so much harder, because you can’t hear their tone and conviction. You won’t detect the quaver in their voice. Even a gifted writer cannot convey through plain text why a certain perspective clings to them, and in these discussions logical argument may only go so far before the knives come out.

What has served me well in vigorous debates over the Internet is restraint in words. I learned painfully that with or without its own font, sarcasm rarely works and is interpreted as cruelty. That’s tough for a native New Yorker to say, since sarcasm is just part of conversation there. I’ve learned that, at best, sarcasm can be sparingly used on ideas. But never at people.

In our political discussions these days, we tend to listen only long enough to form a reply, not long enough to understand. Humility through understanding is essential before engaging in political discussions: You’re unlikely to change any minds, but you may learn something useful from your adversary that will humble you to why they feel as they do. And “feel” is critical.

Writing this article, I reached out to an “unfriend” to ask why he dropped me. We had a nice chat. He’s still a friend, just not on Facebook. He told me I had gotten sarcastic in an exchange long ago and he simply decided that he didn’t wish to engage me or my posts any more. Neither of us could even remember what the discussion was, of course. We remain “unfriends” on Facebook still. It’s a mutual parting. He taught me to hold back, to focus on issues not people, and to know when to let others have the last word.

There are many supporters of Hillary Clinton this week who are despairing not only of the election, but of their fellow Americans “out there” who could have turned on them so viciously.

But my larger lesson from apologizing to my “unfriend” was that when I do engage online to remember the stakes are higher than politics or moral stances. What’s at stake is civility, forgiveness, forbearance and community spirit. What’s at the finish line, when we re-learn how to value those stakes, is reconciliation.


joe-duffus-headshotJoe is a digital news and communications professional and occasional blogger at Christian Post, writing about Presbyterian church matters. He shares his home in Gainesville, Virginia with his wife, two sons and a brown dog.

Faith and Public Policy Ministry Group as a Means of Reconciliation

Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, Don Meeks and Jeff Krehbiel are curating “Can We Talk?”, a modest attempt at an uncommonly gracious conversation among colleagues who differ on matters of conscience. Can we bridge the theological differences that divide us? Can we even talk about them? Can we affirm the best in each other’s theological tradition while honestly confessing the weaknesses of our own? We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Emily Berman D’Andrea

Lewinsville Presbyterian Church is located just outside of Washington, DC in McLean, Virginia. Members are from Northern Virginia and work in all areas of government, while some work in the private sector and others for non profits. Most are immersed in the political hype and the political give and take of the Northern Virginia region. One unique aspect of the Lewinsville congregation is that it can not be pigeon-holed as leaning one way or another politically. When you think that you can label the congregation as left or right, you meet someone who defies the stereotype you have given it and you go back to the drawing board. When you think you have got the feel and flavor of the congregation figured out, you meet someone who then makes you question your thinking about lumping everyone together in the same political category. We’ve got folks who are interested in socially responsible investing and we’ve got folks who negotiate large defense contracts. We’ve got folks who are active in Republican party politics and we’ve got folks who work in the current Democratic administration as political appointees. We have Clinton supporters and we have Trump supporters.

lewinsville-presSome might say this mixture of members in one congregation just outside of Washington, DC, is a liability because you don’t know where the church stands on political issues. It can be labeled “wishy-washy” or “lukewarm” on political issues, and, so the reasoning goes, “it stands for nothing.” I think this mélange and mixture of political viewpoints under one PC(USA) roof is actually unique and invigorating – and I don’t think I’m alone in this thinking. Our congregation has set up structures in our church community in order to give voice to and positively accentuate the divergent opinions in the church community.

I’ll tell you about two structures we have set up that give voice to the divergent viewpoints at Lewinsville. First is the Lewinsville Forum. The Lewinsville Forum is an annual 6 week adult education class on current events co-led by a Republican who served in the Bush administration and a Democrat who served in the Clinton administration. The co-leaders decide which six issues they will take up and then they, in an up-front way, let class participants know their professional background and where they are coming from personally on the issue of the day. They lay out the issue and open it up for discussion. The question at the forefront of the class is: how does our faith impact this issue? Put another way, what does this have to do with our faith? In class there are 40 or so folks who gather for sometimes lively discussion on that day’s topic. More often than not, the discussion is civil and nuanced.

The second structure in place at Lewinsville that allows for divergent opinions in the congregation is the Faith and Public Policy Ministry Group. According to the Faith and Public Policy Ministry Group charter, this group was established at Lewinsville “to enable church members to engage public policy issues as faithful Christians and to provide a forum for open and respectful discourse about social justice and public policy matters.” The principles outlined in the charter for the group are: “discerning God’s divine command; grounding in Christian love; seeking balance and integrity; and building community by practicing community.” The charter states, “the group shall be co-led by two members who hold diverse political views that reflect a majority of the congregation’s political interests.”

Where else written into a group’s charter is it explicitly stated that the leaders must hold differing political views? I think this is how the kingdom of God works. I think reconciliation happens when people with differing political viewpoints can sit in an adult education class and feel safe saying their viewpoint without fear of vilification and ridicule. I think reconciliation happens when people with different political viewpoints can worship in a space they believe is sacred. I believe reconciliation happens when people can look across the sanctuary aisle at someone who sits across the aisle in the House of Representatives or Senate, and embrace them during the passing of the peace. I believe this is the beginning of reconciliation.


dandrea-emily-180x180Emily Berman D’Andrea serves as the Associate Pastor for Christian Formation at Lewinsville Presbyterian Church in McLean, VA where for fourteen years she has worked with the church’s small group ministry, Stephen Ministers, mission programs and contemplative ministries. She enjoys reading novels, playing tennis, watching her children play soccer and black licorice.

A Repairer of the Breach

Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, Don Meeks and Jeff Krehbiel are curating “Can We Talk?”, a modest attempt at an uncommonly gracious conversation among colleagues who differ on matters of conscience. Can we bridge the theological differences that divide us? Can we even talk about them? Can we affirm the best in each other’s theological tradition while honestly confessing the weaknesses of our own? We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by LeAnn Hodges

“We want to have our child baptized,” a visitor said to me after worship one Sunday. He held his son in his arms, and his wife stood back, looking a bit uncertain. “Well,” I responded, “how about we find a time to meet and see if this is the church you would like to join, and then we can go from there?” At that point, the wife chimed in that she would meet with me, but that she wasn’t sure she would join this church… or any church, for that matter.

leann-fontIn the coming days I met with the young couple and listened to their story. They were both from the same African country, but the wife was brought here at a young age through what her family thought was a chance for a western education. But it turned out to be a ticket into slavery in the metro-DC area. She was held captive until her late teens, when she was liberated by the help of a lesbian couple.

Given what she had experienced, it was no wonder that she hesitated when she stepped over the threshold into the church. The miracle is that she was able to set foot in a church at all!

In her upbringing the church was expected to be a safe space, and yet the church had provided a source of legitimacy for those who had forced her into slavery. In her upbringing, same-gender love was considered an unspeakable evil, and yet a same-gender couple became the agent of her liberation.

Over time, she watched as the congregation embraced her son with love and affection. She began to share her story with other members from the same region of Africa who had no idea of the scale of human trafficking that originated in their home region. And she shared her story with those who grew up in the metro-DC area who had no idea of the scale of human trafficking that enslaved people from all over the world here, in our own back yard.

In many ways, this incredible child of God has become a “repairer of the breach” in our congregation. She has opened our eyes to our own complicity in an unjust system that capitalizes on the abuse of human lives. This is no longer someone else’s problem. And through her powerful and gracious way of being, she has invited us into deeper conversation about what it means to be a congregation of uncommon diversity where African and gay sit at Christ’s table together.

We are a congregation that is all over the place in how we view the world, and how we understand the meaning of discipleship. Our individual moral absolutes are often at odds with the person in the next row on a Sunday morning. And yet, through the witness of this unlikely saint, some of those invisible walls that divide us have begun to crumble. The creation of safe space where we are able to testify to God’s work in our lives has confronted our easy assumptions of “the other” and required us to do the much more difficult and life-giving work of holy community.


leann-hodgesLeAnn Hodges is the pastor of Oaklands Presbyterian Church in Laurel, MD. As a pastor, her favorite part of her job is hanging out with people, learning their stories, and if possible getting in a good belly laugh at least once a day. And from those stories, she learns more and more about the depth of God’s love made known in Jesus Christ. In her free time… oh, wait… LeAnn has three sons, ages 12, 6, and 4… but when she used to have free time, she enjoyed gardening, knitting, reading mysteries, and watching sci-fi shows with her husband of 22 years (who happens to be a high school physics teacher). 

Can the Center Hold?

by Don Meeks

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

(The Second Coming – W.B Yeats)

These immortal lines, penned nearly a century ago in the tragic aftermath of the first world war, seem eerily prescient of our current moment in American culture. Things are falling apart in front of our very eyes. Or so it seems.

Racial injustice. Income inequality. Theological division. Political acrimony. The list could go on.

Can the center hold? Can we bend just a little further without breaking? Can we find our way through this wilderness? Can we bridge what divides us?

Or even more modestly, can we even talk about all this?

ncp-open-spaceA few of us in National Capital Presbytery have begun a project that is far easier said than done. Aware of the many divides that impact our churches, we have asked ourselves one simple question: Can we talk? That is to say, can we reach across one of the aisles that divides us – the theological aisle – and actually have a meaningful conversation as evangelicals and progressives?

Can we honor each other, in the name of Jesus Christ, as sisters and brothers? Can we listen deeply and attentively to one another? Can we affirm the best in each other’s theological tradition while honestly confessing the weaknesses of our own?

The catalyst for this conversation came from an event hosted by one of our sister churches in the presbytery during the run-up to the 2012 presidential election. The event featured a panel discussion on Christian civility between Richard Mouw, then president of Fuller Seminary, and Ross Douthat, columnist for the New York Times.

Mouw noted in passing the common practice in political conversation for one camp to put their very best up against the worst of their opponent. Naturally. This is how the game works. In short, demonize your opponent and you never need engage in substantive debate on the issues.

Driving away from that event, I wondered aloud to myself, “What would happen if we turned this thing on its head? What if I chose to openly acknowledge the worst of the evangelical tradition and practice, and chose to affirm the best of what I see in the progressive tradition? And…can I find a progressive to join me and do the same?”

I call this a “thought exercise,” for it requires a fair amount of thinking. Some hard thinking. Some counter-intuitive and counter-cultural thinking. (Trust me – it gets easier).

In time, I posed the thought exercise to one of my presbytery colleagues, Jeff Krehbiel, and thus began what we now call a modest attempt at an uncommonly gracious conversation among colleagues who differ on matters of conscience.

Jeff and I have co-moderated an on-going Open Space dialogue prior to presbytery meetings for the past two years. We modeled this conversation at the NEXT Church National Gathering in Atlanta last February. And most recently, we led a panel-discussion and officiated communion in presbytery plenary meeting.

Can the center hold? Can we find others to join us in this modest and gracious conversation?

Jeff and I have been asked to curate this month’s NEXT Church blog in hopes that we might widen the conversation and bend it toward reconciliation and bridge-building across the theological and other divides. We invite you to join us as conversation partners and ambassadors of reconciliation in Jesus’ name.


don-meeks-headshot-2Don Meeks is the senior pastor of Greenwich Presbyterian Church in Northern Virginia. He is active in the Fellowship Community within National Capital Presbytery.  His vision for ministry is to invite people to experience and express Christ-likeness in all of life. He is an avid golfer, psalmic intercessor and songwriter.