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Conflict in the Public Square

Conflict in the Public Square

Navigating Conflict with Grace, Week Three

Jan. 26, 2025

Rev. David Collins



Did anyone catch the news this week?

Did anything important happen?

Anything we should talk about in church?


Like most of you I’m sure, my eyes were glued to a screen all week. But the only thing that really surprised me, that felt new and different, was Bishop Marian Budde’s plea to President Trump. I know you all saw it, and that about a quarter of you would like me to talk about something else, and that one or two of you are thinking about getting up and leaving, but please don’t.


Because we all have something to learn from her. Left, right, center, and fed up. All of us. And here it is:


The way Bishop Budde spoke to President Trump is the way that every Christian should address our opponents, especially those in positions of authority.


She addressed him with dignity, respect, and most importantly, as a fellow human being, made in the image of God, and capable of showing mercy.


I don’t see how anyone could take issue with her plea for mercy, so predictably, and rapidly, many many did.


Why?


Many took issue with her gender. Calling her "lady preacher" was a common put-down. Also, I heard that she went on the View. Which was damning, because anyone who goes on talkshows can't be trusted. Mostly though, and you may agree with this one: people didn't like her timing. That an inauguration prayer service was no place for critique or confrontation.


I can understand that.


We often want moments like these to be about unity, if only for a day. But history and scripture show us that the truth doesn’t wait for perfect timing. Prophets in the Bible rarely spoke up only when it was convenient. And Jesus had a way of showing up and speaking out at very inconvenient times, whether it was healing on the Sabbath or flipping tables in the temple.


And absolutely no one is excited when Uncle Steve brings up politics at Thanksgiving dinner.


And yet.


You have to admit that there is something in all of us, whether left, right, or center, that when we just want the other side to shut up, we tend to ignore the content of what they’ve said, and instead attack how, or where, or things about the person, who said it.


When people don’t like what others say they will question their right to say it.


For the last three weeks, we’ve been “Navigating Conflict with Grace”. Today we’re looking at Conflict in the Public Square. You know politics, and how we should engage with them. Now obviously, we can’t cover everything about this topic in one sermon. And I’m not going to try to.


This topic is messy and overwhelming, and it’s easy to get lost in the chaos. So today, I want to focus on something critical: How to distinguish the signal from the noise.


The Signal and the Noise

Have you ever heard this concept before? It’s from radio waves.  And I can’t really explain the science of it. But I like the metaphor.


The signal is the core message—the heart of what’s being said and why it matters. The noise is everything else.


Now sometimes the noise is just that. Static, misunderstandings, thinking out loud. But for our purposes today, the noise is a little more intentional. It’s all the distractions, the personal attacks, the outrage cycle that drowns out the real issues. The signal.


As Christians, part of our call is to tune our ears and hearts to the signal. To what God tells and shows us in Jesus Christ. To what other people are really saying. And also to the message that we feel led to share right here and now.


We don’t to get caught up in the noise and lose sight of what God is calling us to think and say and do.


But the noise is really distracting!


I think my favorite possession are my noise cancelling headphones. They’re little miracles. Megan and I went to New York last fall, and they completely transformed our experience of walking through that city. I went from the edge of a nervous breakdown to feel like I was in my own personal music video.


Now, when it comes to dealing with the conflict inherent in talking about politics, the most powerful noise doesn’t come from outside.


It comes from within.


For me, and maybe for you too, the loudest noise that keeps me from engaging in conflict is my own internal conflict avoidance.


Conflict Avoidance

That voice that says, 'Is it really worth it? What if I say the wrong thing? What if I lose a friend? What if I make things worse instead of better?’ More often than not it’s not even verbal like that.  It’s more like a baby who doesn’t want to eat his vegetables, (make face) and wants to DOSOMETHINGELSERIGHTNOW!


That conflict avoidance is real. Sometimes it convinces us that silence is wisdom, that stepping back is the “mature thing to do”.


But it’s really just fear, isn’t it? Cowardice.


Is that what God calls us to?


"For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.” 2 Timothy 1:7


And what are we to use that power, love and self-discipline for?


"Speak out for those who cannot speak, for the rights of all the destitute.

Speak out, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy.” Proverbs 31:8-9


Yeah. That’s the signal we’re looking for.  It’s clear, it’s direct, it’s unmistakable.


But the noise inside of our conflict avoidance keeps us from hearing and obeying that voice. And while headphones won’t help with that, a good deep breath might. And words of assurance from God might too.


God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change. Psalm 46:1-2


Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. John 14:27


Be strong and bold; have no fear or dread of them, because it is the Lord your God who goes with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Deuteronomy 31:6



Let’s just take a second a breathe that in, and quiet our internal noise.

Recognize that our conflict avoidance isn’t serving us, or God, or the people who need us.


Done? Cured! Finally.


So now what? Do we jump into the fray and start swinging? No, not yet.


Because we have to recognize that the other side, whether it’s a political opponent, a critic, or a perpetrator of systemic injustice, often produces a lot of noise—and a lot of it is intentional.


It’s designed to fool you, distract you, and exhaust you before you even get started.


So today, we’re going to take a quick tour through some of these ‘noise patterns’, and hopefully see how to recognize them, and simply by naming them, we can cancel them out.


Ephesians 5:13 says that Everything exposed by the light becomes visible.


That is, there are things in the world that once you have a name for them, they lose all their power over you. Sometimes all you have to do is just recognize the noise as noise and that will cancel it.


Noise Patterns

Let’s start with one of the most common noise patterns:


Deflection

Deflection is when the focus is shifted away from the real issue to something else, often to avoid accountability or derail the conversation. It happens all the time when someone responds to criticism not by addressing the substance of the critique, but by pointing fingers somewhere else. 'What about the other side?' 'What about this other issue?' 'Aren’t you just as bad?' Sometimes it’s called by a much more fun name, Whataboutism. It’s a classic move to keep you spinning your wheels, arguing about everything except the thing that matters.


Jesus encountered deflection all the time. Remember when he healed on the Sabbath? The Pharisees didn’t focus on the healing—but on what day it happened on. That’s deflection. And Jesus didn’t let them drag him into an argument about Sabbath law. He cut through the noise and asked, 'Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save life or to kill?' (Mark 3:1-6) He knew that the signal was the mercy and the Sabbath was noise in comparison. That’s deflection.


That’s not the only noise pattern though. There a bunch more. I put the list in your bulletin so you can read more about them at home. Here’s one that real familiar.


Overgeneralization is when someone takes one specific issue and blows it up into something way too big. You’ve heard it before: “If you criticize this policy, you must hate the entire country,” or “If you don’t support this one thing, you’re against everything we stand for.” It tries to force people into these extreme, all-or-nothing corners, where there’s no room for nuance or meaningful conversation. It shuts down dialogue and leaves you stuck.


But the next noise pattern will have you running in circles.


Shifting the GoalpostsThis is the noise that keeps moving the finish line. No matter what solution you offer, the bar for resolution just keeps shifting, kind of like Lucy holding the football for Charlie Brown. This time I’ll let you kick it, I promise.


But it’s always out of reach. Think about climate change. The conversation often starts with, “The science isn’t settled,” and when that’s debunked, it shifts to, “Well, even if it IS real, the U.S. can’t fix the problem alone—China and India are the real culprits.” Then, when that’s challenged, it becomes, “Even if the whole world worked together, it’s too late to stop it anyway.”


The issue isn’t the complexity of climate change itself—it’s that the conversation isn’t happening in good faith. Shifting the goalposts creates a sense of futility, leaving you feeling like there’s no point in even trying.


Now, Red herrings are those clever little distractions tossed into the conversation to make sure you never get anywhere close to the actual issue. You’ve seen this, say during a discussion about racial justice, someone suddenly shifts gears to, “But what about crime rates in San Francisco?” Or during a conversation about fiscal responsibility and government spending, someone might suddenly pivot to, 'Well, what about all the money we spend on defense?”


It’s not necessarily irrelevant, but it’s a distraction—it functions to sidetrack the conversation and avoid dealing with the original point. And while red herrings derail the conversation, this next one makes you wonder whether you should even have spoken in the first place.


Emotional ManipulationGuilt, fear, outrage. You’ve heard it: “If you want that, you’re putting everyone at risk!” or “You’re just trying to make me feel bad!” It shifts the focus from the issue at hand to someone’s hurt feelings or some unthinkable consequences. And sometimes it gets pretty theatrical—tears, slammed doors, demands for an apology. It works because it makes you stop and think, “Am I being too harsh? Am I the problem here?” But it’s not about resolution—it’s about ending the conversation.


Now, to be fair, sometimes these noise patterns aren’t because someone is out to silence you. It’s because they really don’t like thinking about things that make them feel uncomfortable. Thinking hurts! So it’s natural to take shortcuts to make the thinky pain go away.


Maybe that’s what’s going on with:


MinimizationThis is the voice that says, “It’s not that bad,” or “People are just overreacting.” It’s the snake in the Garden whispering, ‘Surely you will not die.” Minimization is designed to make it feel like the problem isn’t serious enough to warrant attention. It sneaks in with phrases like, “This happens everywhere,” or “It’s just the way things are.” It creates apathy, a sense that action is unnecessary or even silly. But other times the problems feel so big that we fall into:


Paralysis by ComplexityWhen the problem is painted as so vast, and so unsolvable that it makes you feel helpless. People say things like, “The system is too broken,” “What could one person do?”, “The world is too far gone” It’s overwhelming. This noise buries the signal under layers of doubt and exhaustion, so you think that any effort on your part will be useless.


But here’s the truth: God isn’t asking us to fix everything in one heroic act. That’s not our job. We are simply called to take the next faithful step, trusting that God’s justice, mercy, and love can work through even our smallest actions.


Then Jesus said to them all, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. Luke 9:23


Not once, not perfectly, not all at once—but daily, faithfully, step by step. All God wants from us is our willingness to keep moving forward.

Sometimes, people will string all these noise patterns together into a full-blown cacophony called the Gish Gallup.


It’s named after Duane Gish, a creationist debater who had a sneaky way of 'winning' arguments against scientists. He’d throw out a rapid-fire series of half-truths, misleading arguments, misrepresentations, and outright lies—so many at once that his opponent couldn’t possibly refute them all in the time allowed. It wasn’t about having the stronger case; it was about overwhelming the other person with so much noise that the truth didn’t stand a chance.


The Gish Gallup works because of our human instinct to want to respond to everything. It creates the illusion that the person making all the points is winning because they’re ‘saying more.’ But in reality, it’s just noise stacked on top of noise. And the only way to cut through it is to refuse to take the bait.


You see, the people producing the most noise today don’t actually care if what they’re saying is true or not. They just want to get away with saying whatever serves their purpose in that moment.


Like or not, and I’m fairly confident you don’t, that is the world we live in. There’s just so much noise that we can’t hear ourselves think, let alone hear God’s still small voice. But it’s there. It’s always there.


So what can we do about all this?


Well, I don’t want you to become a great debater. I’m not asking you to chase after every falsehood or get tangled up in every argument. I don’t want you to be the mightiest keyboard warrior in all the land.


You don’t need to call it out, and fight until you’re exhausted.


All you need to do is recognize all the noise for what it is. And when you see it clearly, and can maybe even name it, the noise can’t control you.


And then you can say something that actually matters. Something that is all signal, and no noise. That doesn’t become like the opposition in trying to change it and doesn’t keep pace with the vitriol of its alliance.


Kind of like Bishop Budde did.


There was a lot she could have said. But she focused on what was irrefutable, Biblical, and polite. If you care about the poor and marginalized, and you have a chance to ask the most powerful person on the planet to not go out of his way to make life harder for them, you take it.


We should do the same.


We don't have to take the bait for every argument from our opponents.


And we don't have to take the bait from the people on "our side" who insist that respect be reserved only for the worthy.


But we do have to speak up. And say something that shows that being a Christian actually makes a person have more empathy and love than if they weren’t one.


And when we do, let’s say something like,


“In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now.
There are gay, lesbian and transgender children in Democratic, Republican, and Independent families, some whom fear for their lives.
The people who pick our crops and clean our office buildings; who labor in poultry farms and meat packing plants; who wash the dishes after we eat in restaurants and work the night shifts in hospitals. They…may not be citizens or have the proper documentation. But the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches and mosques, synagogues, gurudwaras and temples. I ask you to have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away.
And that you help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands to find compassion and welcome here.
Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we were all once strangers in this land.
May God grant us the strength and courage to honor the dignity of every human being, to speak the truth to one another in love and walk humbly with each other and our God for the good of all people. Good of all people in this nation and the world.
- The Right Rev. Mariann Edgar Budde, Bishop of Washington, Jan. 21, 2025

Have mercy.

What a beautiful plea.


Have Mercy

Imagine if Christians truly lived out our call to be salt and light in the public square—not by echoing the world's anger and outrage, but by imitating the love of Jesus. What if we took the energy behind our protests, our petitions, our social media posts, and directed it into actions and words that sound a lot more like Jesus? Because he did flip those tables once, but mostly he ignored all the noise and zeroed in on what really matters.


What if we could affect the culture in such a way that almost every sign carried at every protest just said “Have Mercy.” No jokes. No threats. No disparagement. None of the noise we talked about today. Just “have mercy”.


What if we prayed openly for our opponents, our hearts breaking out of love, not of anger. What if we wrote letters to leaders that held them accountable while reminding them of their humanity, the image of God they bear alone with everyone else, and their capacity for empathy.


What if we showed the world that following Jesus doesn’t just make us passionate—it makes us different? What if, instead of keeping pace with the world’s justifiable outrage, we slowed down to ask, "What would Jesus have us say in this moment?” and then said just that—nothing more, nothing less.


Because when Christians show up in the public square, we don’t need to win arguments or tear down opponents. We need to stand for the things that matter to God: justice, mercy, and most of all love. And we need to do it in a way that shows the world what the Gospel looks like in action. That’s the signal we need to send—a signal that cuts through the noise and points people straight to Jesus.


Now, if you’re uncomfortable and you’re still listening, thank you for sticking around. And I would love to hear your thoughts and reactions to all of this. But since people almost never take me up on that, I want you to consider something about your discomfort.


Because it’s not just noise that makes us feel that way. It’s also other signals out there in the world that claim they are from God, that claim they speak for Jesus, and they can be pretty convincing. But they don’t sound a whole lot like the Jesus we meet in the Gospels. So I’d like to ask you to do something this week.


Do your own research. But not by listening to podcasts, or searching on Reddit or TikTok. Start by reading what Jesus taught in the sermon on the mount. Pick up any Bible you find and flip to Matthew chapter five and start reading for yourself.


When you’re done, ask these two simple questions,


What signal am I tuned into?


What signal am I obeying?


Amen.


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