University of Virginia Library

Opportunities Lost

A second critical lesson from the Dayton study pivots around the theme of opportunities lost. These do not lend themselves to ready questions of culpability. Rather, they involve many persons at many points missing opportunities which could have resulted in creative utilization of the experimental congregation's presence. Since it is obvious that different policy decisions at the onset would have resulted in a very different experiment, our discussion will consider only actions possible without radical alteration in the nature and membership composition of the Congregation.

When Richard Righter moved to Dayton, he personally visited all the Presbyterian pastors in the metropolitan area. He deliberately did not ask for referrals from their congregations. Thus, this contact was not threatening; he didn't attempt to raid their membership rolls. He sought only to establish his presence in the city, become acquainted, and indicate his openness to cooperative ventures at some later date.

Early in 1969, only a few months after the first organizational meetings, participants in the experimental group established a list of priority issues for study and action. Righter then wrote all the Presbyterian pastors in the city to inform them of the newly formed study groups and invite them and their lay people to join the Congregation for Reconciliation in this endeavor. (Recall that, at this point, study groups and action groups were clearly differentiated.) Righter failed to receive even a single acknowledgment of his letter, much less an inquiry about participation. The evidence from our interviews would suggest that few congregations were even informed of the study projects.

Within six months of arriving in Dayton, Righter had twice contacted every Presbyterian pastor in the city. His willingness, indeed desire, to establish working relationships with other pastors and congregations should have been clear. The interest was not mutual, however. Apparently, conservative pastors wanted nothing to do with the Congregation for Reconciliation,


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and liberal pastors feared losing members from their own congregations. Thus, except for the congregation which initially provided space to the experimental group for secretarial work, no ties developed. And this congregation later asked the mission to leave because of opposition to their social-action tactics.

The only contact initiated by other pastors or congregations has been a few invitations for Righter to preach or speak to some church group. During his first year, Righter received three invitations to preach and half a dozen opportunities to address couples' or women's groups. The former provided no context to interpret the Congregation's activities, and the latter were typically small audiences. This level of contact remained fairly constant for the first three years but has declined somewhat since, even though it now includes both Presbyterian and United Church of Christ congregations.

The contact with United Church of Christ congregations has been somewhat less than with Presbyterian ones. Early publicity about the Congregation identified it as a Presbyterian group; some UCC pastors, at least, are quite content with that image. One of our questions to pastors was whether they had received any flak from laity because of the Congregation for Reconciliation's activities. One pastor responded bluntly, "Oh, no. My people don't even know they are affiliated with the United Church of Christ. And if I have anything to do with it, they won't find out." Several other pastors also expressed the view that most of their members were unaware of the union status of the Congregation.

At no point has a governing body of a congregation of either denomination invited Righter or a member of his group to engage in dialogue or interpretation of their life-style. The limited contacts with governing bodies have been precipitated by the Congregation for Reconciliation.

We emphasize here that opportunities for interaction and interpretation of the Congregation's life-style were exploited far less effectively than might have been. Many pastors seem quite consciously to have avoided the opportunity. Furthermore, in this context, the kind of presentation of self and impression Righter makes in talking to groups merits recalling. Lay persons and pastors alike told us they were both surprised and impressed. They came prepared for a confrontation with a belligerent radical,


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not a personally demure, soft-spoken, carefully reasoned pastor articulating a well-grounded theological rationale.

Why, then, did Righter receive so few opportunities to interpret his ministry to other groups? This, of course, necessitates conjecture on our part. Many pastors probably hesitated out of timidity and fear of opposition from conservative lay persons. But also, many probably never even considered that this might be an effective means of broaching issues they themselves had difficulty raising with their congregations.

None of these speaking engagements led to any kind of systematic follow-up, such as an invitation for Righter to return to lead a series of group discussions on a particular topic, an exploration of how interested lay persons in other congregations could develop "less radical" supportive actions, or the formation of study groups. In short, these were one-shot exposures. The opportunity to stimulate discussion and study groups was ignored.

Similarly, our interviews with Dayton pastors revealed that few ever attempted to interpret the controversial activities of the Congregation for Reconciliation. This would have required no direct contact with the Congregation. But ignoring them, pretending they didn't exist, although they were an obvious source of irritation to many Presbyterians in the community, meant missing many opportunities for constructive dialogue. Numerous approaches might have been taken. For example, pastors might have encouraged examination of the issues without considering the tactics of the Congregation. Are their concerns legitimate concerns for people who call themselves Christians? If so, how can Christians make their influence felt? What is the proper stance of the corporate body of the church on social issues? How might we deal reasonably and creatively with the undeniable reality that Christians don't agree on the issue of corporate responsibility? Or pastors might have encouraged careful study of the Congregation for Reconciliation. Are they misguided idealists? Are there theological rationales for their actions? What are the official policies of our denomination on these issues? Such explorations would have generated some tension, but, if skillfully handled, the results could have been positive and creative nonetheless. The very presence of the vigorously active Congregation in the city


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would have made such essentially educational ministries far more palatable.

The failure of Dayton pastors to utilize the presence of the Congregation for Reconciliation to explore social issues reflects both timidity and the neglect of an opportunity. But our interviews also indicate it suggests the absence of skills to deal with the issues. A great proportion of clergy lack at least two important skills. The first is the ability to deal with any kind of controversial issue. Many pastors simply don't know how to talk about touchy topics. Hence, they tend to confine their views to private conversations among lay persons with whom they sense agreement. Second, many pastors are unable to deal authoritatively with social issues in a group discussion; they lack sufficient information to be a resource person, to present substantive materials on an issue, to defend their own views, or to challenge viewpoints not grounded in fact. Bluntly" stated, many are barnyard liberals with neither the skill nor the knowledge to be effective educators.

Many readily acknowledge and decry this. Why, then, do they structure their lives to perpetuate these deficiencies in skill and knowledge which they would like to have and which they believe would bolster their effectiveness in dealing with social issues? In this light, the Congregation for Reconciliation could have served at least two functions. On the one hand, it could have provided a resource in the development of skills in researching social problems and, on the other, it could have been a ready stimulus for underscoring the need for self-study and mutual support in expanding the talents of local clergy.

For five years the Congregation for Reconciliation has manifested religious concern for a wide range of social issues. For five years it has stood as a challenge to other Dayton pastors and congregations to explore possibilities for relating to and becoming involved in the problems of Dayton and our society. The range of potential responses has been limited only by the imagination and the will to act. But in Dayton, not unlike many other communities in America, both imagination and will have lain dormant`. Local pastors have either not seen the opportunities offered by the Congregation for Reconciliation or they have lacked the will to take any initiative. They never attempted structures to bring


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clergy together for discussing specific ways of utilizing either the presence or the resources of the Congregation to educate their lay people or themselves.

There were, of course, other possibilities. But there were also other problems. Presbyterian executives faced structural impediments to their assuming initiative. The Synod mission staff resided in another city. This did not preclude their taking initial action, but it did present organizational difficulties. Again, with the Stated Clerk (executive officer) of the Presbytery, we encounter structural difficulties. From the moment the image of the Congregation took shape, his was a delicate position. Some pastors and lay persons would have opted to squelch the Congregation early in its life, had the Stated Clerk not skillfully provided a protective shield and insulation from hostile criticism in the ecclesiastical environment and thus aided the chances of the Congregation's survival. Had he played a vigorous role in promoting the Congregation and encouraging Congregation related activities, his credibility as a sober and responsible church executive might have been seriously threatened. Not that his structural position denied promotion of any Congregation-related activities, but the role was risky and he chose not to gamble. Had other pastors contacted him and requested assistance in promoting some program, his position to take initiatives would have been much more secure.

Further initiative might also have come from Righter and the Congregation. Righter made some effort, but the Congregation members themselves, it must be remembered, were largely persons who felt indifference or alienation regarding other churches. They didn't want to spend their energies on white middle-class congregations or pastors and weren't going to encourage Righter in that direction, either. In their defense, though, it might be said that the Presbytery members initiated the experiment and thus probably carried a larger responsibility to watch over their brainchild than vice versa. The newsletter-bulletin circulated by the Cincinnati congregation proved an effective means of communication and interpretation there. Righter certainly knew of the Cincinnati newsletter, but the Dayton group, though it has continuously sent its monthly mailing to all UCC and UPUSA congregations in the Dayton area, made no special


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effort to tailor this contact as a reconciling force. Had Dayton pastors encouraged any interaction and dialogue, this might have become a viable form of communication.

To consider what might have been is to engage in fantasy. Exploring lost opportunities, we are like Alice roaming the great hall but finding all the doors locked. There is a garden full of surprises beyond the locked doors; Dayton clergy and laity, however, couldn't swallow their timidity and rationalizations long enough to squeeze through the little door and bring their churches into the daylight beyond.