confrontation

Getting an eternal perspective on annoying people helped some, but it didn’t solve the problem. For the last few days, I’ve been having fantasies of telling this person–let’s call him Alan–of telling Alan off: kindly and gently, but still telling him off.

Why? Because my last interaction with him was unpleasant; I saw that arrogance again, and I also saw the insecurity, and I was actually rather surprised, because there was more of the bluster that the insecure use than I had expected. What changed this time is the knowledge that Alan is going on a retreat of sorts for personal introspection and evaluation. He likes to do a mental accounting once a year and settle up, and this settling up does involve making amends for wrongs. I should add here that Alan is very ethical; he is not the stereotypical atheist without a conscience. He has pretty high standards for himself.

But back to me: I immediately thought, “I’d like an apology! How about making some amends towards me!” And within a few hours, as I turned this over in my mind, I came up with the brilliant idea that now would be the ideal time to confront him. He’s headed off to consider his life; wouldn’t I be helping him by giving him something to consider? And to make it less confrontational, I would do it as a letter; slip it under his door on Friday on my way out and avoid any direct contact.

As I’ve turned this over in my mind–obsessed about it, really–I’ve known that A) this isn’t the solution, and B) I’m not helping myself any with such thinking. So last night, as I lay in bed, I prayed (which should have occurred much sooner in this process!). I said, “God, I clearly don’t know what to do here; I need help. What would Jesus do?”

It’s amazing the clarity that comes when we give up on our own ideas, acknowledge our own cluelessness, and give God permission to speak!

Immediately I thought of Jesus and his confrontations. Jesus knew how to put someone in his place. He called the pharisees whitewashed tombs, and he called Peter "Satan." Ouch!

I then I wondered: how many stupid, arrogant things did Jesus not address? How much did He overlook? Peter seems pretty adept at putting his foot in his mouth; he must have given Jesus a lot of opportunities for rebuke.

Then I thought, “The Bible says that Jesus knew people's thoughts; He had a divine understanding of when to speak and when not to.” Here’s the reasoning: Jesus could safely rebuke people, throw out the money changers, call people names because He had a divine sense that we don’t have.

But then I realized: that doesn’t work. How can Jesus be tempted in all things and sympathize with my weakness if He has something I don’t? The reason for Jesus’ people skills can’t be a divine advantage exclusive to Him; if that’s the case, He is no longer the great high priest described in Hebrews.

So I thought: what did Jesus have that I lack? What did Jesus have that I can have too? Immediately I knew. Jesus filtered everything through love. How did Jesus put up with Peter, James, and John (to name just a few)? He loved them.

Love defined and refined Jesus’ motives. Love allowed Jesus to know when to overlook an offense and when to confront. Jesus had a thought process, a filter, that continually said, “I love Peter; I want to bless Peter; what is best for Peter at this moment?”

In contrast, my thinking is more often, “I love Dan; I want to make Dan feel better; what will make Dan feel best at this moment?”

All this went through my head in less time than it has taken you to read it. And I immediately knew: I cannot confront Alan until I love him and the confrontation is motivated by a true desire to bless him rather than make myself feel better. Only then, when I’ve filtered the situation and my responses through love, can I be certain that my actions are the best for both me and Alan.

Next time, I’ll share some of my strategies for developing a love filter. In the meantime, use the comments to tell us how you deal with difficult people.

Tagged as: confrontation, Jesus, love, relationships