Selective hearing

I recently was asked to respond to an alumnus (a pastor of a church) about his displeasure over the choice of the seminary’s new president-elect. I was asked to respond as someone who had been a member of the now-defunct presidential search committee. At first I resisted, warning the person who asked me to respond that my initial impulse was to ask, “Do you personally give money to the seminary or is the seminary in your church’s missions budget? If not, then thanks for sharing but I’d just as soon you keep your opinion to yourself.”

As it turns out, I did respond to the alumnus, and I did, in fact, use those words. The alumnus responded that my words sounded harsh. I responded that if my opening remarks sounded harsh, I was only being frank. I explained that I’ve had my fill of folks (ideologues on both ends of the spectrum: fundamentalists and “liberals”) trying to tell other folks what they think they ought to be and whom they ought to hire (read “anyone except a person who doesn’t think like we do”). I explained that while I’ll always encourage people to express their thoughts, even opinion when appropriate, I’ll always challenge people toward personal responsibility, also.

I’m an alumnus of a Southern Baptist seminary. Currently I give no funds to my seminary alma mater, and therefore, while I disagree with their theology, curricular decisions, political stances, policies, culture, and educational approaches, I never feel I have a right to comment on how they chose to run their house. I admit that I tend to be one of those who have “selective hearing.” I think while people have a right to speak, people need to earn the right to be heard, and that does not come merely from “membership.” As persons in ministry I’m sure we’ve all experienced that irksome scenario when members voice an insistent opinion, or make demands, when you know their level of participation and financial giving in support of your church does not evidence responsible stewardship or a minimum level of commitment to the welfare of the common good.

The gift of discernment includes, I believe, a cultivated capacity to choose whom you grant weight of opinion. Not every opinion is worth entertaining, not every demand merits favor (regardless of how passionately it is presented), not every voice deserves an audience, and not everyone who clamors for attention or wants their way deserves to be heard—even if they are a “member.” The fact of the matter is that on any given day, the voices that make the most demands, insist on conformity and assent, and foist their opinion on the rest of us are the most willful, undifferentiated, and invasive. And while the sound and the fury they are able to muster easily distracts us, it is worth looking around for the more reasoned and deserved voices who’ve earned the right to be heard, but typically don’t go around insisting on it.