As the last person to post reflections on this month’s Coffee Talk, I have the advantage of seeing what others have done with the topic. While I love Tom Schmidt’s piece on the Wisdom tradition within Judeo-Christian writing (and look forward to that part of our ‘Talk’), I’m choosing (along with the others) to reflect on a more mundane aspect of wisdom. I found myself this week reflection on relational wisdom — the ability to bring a discerning heart, and patient grace, to difficult relationships.
I have spent this last week as the camp pastor for a senior high water sports camp at our United Methodist Camp on Lower Twin Lake in northern Idaho. I have been doing this particular week of camp for about 10 years now. And I love the campers who choose this camp. They are not usually the ‘religious’ campers — regulars in Sunday School, able to quote the Bible on a multitude of subjects, confident of their faith. No, water sports camp tends to attract those who are on the fringes, if they are active in church at all. They push limits and challenge authority. And I love them.
This week we had an experience that demonstrated in a very practical, but painful way the difference (at least as it has to do with human relationships) between wisdom and its relatives: knowledge, intelligence, correctness, or even good intentions.
The small group leaders are mostly young adults, often doing this as a summer job during college. After spending six weeks working largely with younger campers (grades 4 – 9) four of the leaders are expected to step up and supervise, mentor, and engage these Senior High Water Sports campers.
Because no one had the wisdom, before this week began, to invite these leaders to reflect on the ways that these campers would be different from those they’d been leading so far this summer, they treated them the same way they had treated younger campers. As you might suspect, this did not go over well. That’s putting it mildly. The campers immediately felt disrespected, because of the words and tone of the instructions. When the campers became non-compliant, and the Leaders felt disrespected, and tried to exercise stricter authority. There was a major rebellion that eventually resulted in three campers choosing to go home after less than 48 hours at camp. This broke my heart.
And as I reflected on the events, I realized I was also thinking about this idea of wisdom. The leaders involved in this episode are intelligent, competent young adults who love campers and have big hearts. But they had come to expect that they could give orders and get obedience from campers. And these campers were not the sort of teens who take ‘orders’ well. Sadly, the campers’ resistance to authority met with more forceful authority. By the time I was brought into the situation, trust had been broken, boundaries had been crossed, and for three of the campers, there was no going back and starting again.
As I debriefed the experience with those involved, it became clear to me that everyone had the best of intentions, and no one had exercised wisdom. The young adult leaders had been exercising authority effectively all summer. When they were unexpectedly met with non-compliance, and eventually belligerence, they reacted with the behavior that they had been practicing, ever more authority. And the (even younger) campers, taken by surprise by an approach to which they were not accustomed, reacted with ever more intransigence.
I believe that, had anyone present had the wisdom to call for a ‘ceasefire’ and begin mutually respectful negotiations, the situation would have been defused and everyone would have had a great week together.
In one sense, no one was ‘wrong’ in this situation. The leaders had been conditioned to exercise authority and expect compliance. They were simply using the strategies that had worked well for six weeks. The campers felt that they were being ‘treated like sixth graders’ (and they were) and they (understandably) resented it. From each person’s point of view, they acted reasonably in the face of the challenge.
But no one exercised wisdom in the situation. No one took time to step back and ask, “How can I defuse this situation?” In particular, everyone was so busy demanding their right to be respected that no one thought to step up and be the first to offer respect. Everyone wanted to exercise their rights. No one thought to offer grace. Everyone felt attacked. No one was willing to be the first to de-escalate. Had the leaders appealed to the campers sense of responsibility for a good week together, they would have found common ground for behavior. (I know this because I’ve worked with these campers.) Had the leaders been able to put aside their need to be in control and asked the campers to help keep order, they would have gotten it. Had the campers been able to set aside their anger and articulate their needs calmly, compromises could have been negotiated.
Wisdom, in this case, would have meant each person setting aside their own needs to seek the good of the whole community. Wisdom would have meant listening to the other, and really hearing their needs, before demanding to have things go ‘my way.’ Wisdom would have meant finding common ground and working from there.
This reflection is not just about the campers and Leaders at Watersports Camp. It’s also about the Israel-Palestine conflict; the Russia – Crimea – U.S conflict; the continued conflicts in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Africa.
Wisdom is the ability to step back and use the gift of insight to see the patterns at work in whatever system, and to have the patience to look for a grace-filled solution.
Join SpokaneFAVS for a conversation on ‘Wisdom’ at its next Coffee Talk, at 10 a.m., Aug. 2 at Indaba Coffee. Conklin is a panelist.
