If you are in the throes of a personal conflict, the good news is that you are not stagnating. To be engaged in conflict means that you are experiencing an encounter with another human being. Conflict is a normal part of life. Conflict can lead to the communion with others for which we were made. It is no accident that life begins in conflict. A newborn struggles to come through the birth canal and in this momentous breakthrough finds a whole new aspect of life. Conflict, taken up with courage and honesty, provides a catalyst through which all relationships can grow in Christ. Yet, the avoidance of conflict has become pandemic in modern culture.
Early in its history, America’s rugged courage was acclaimed by the French historian Alexis de Tocqueville during a visit to study American prison systems. The Frenchman attributed the vibrant growth and expansion of the United States to the people’s faith-based courage. Conflict was not feared, rather “every change seems an improvement. No natural boundary seems to be set to the efforts of man; and in his eyes what is not yet done is only what he has not attempted to do.”
To be sure, what de Tocqueville described in Democracy in America was far removed from the sort of pseudo-individualism acted out by a variety of indecisive “friends” on today’s weekly sitcoms. Rather, American individualism was rooted in fearless engagement which simply gave of self for the betterment of family and country. It was a staunch personalism which focused on the value of hard work, respect for the next fellow, wise pragmatism, and an unrelenting faith in God. Conflict was accepted as a part of the human condition. Thus, it was embraced as a slice of life to be reckoned with.
At some point in the last century, however, conflict became suspect. Americans began to seek approval at all costs. Human freedom began to be equated with unlimited and unqualified tolerance. Tolerance became confused with putting up with anything and everybody. In the process, a fear of conflict was born that distorted the meaning of interpersonal relationships. The implication lingers that a virtuous life demands absolute detachment which in turn requires the avoidance of conflict at all costs.
The era of anger management and risk management was born. The effect on interpersonal relationships has been dramatic. “Real” marriage was touted as a kind of utopia wherein “best friends” enjoyed, if not perpetual agreement, at least an endless cycle of blissful concessions. Marriages which failed to provide constant affirmation surely had to be defective and should be terminated. Even certain religious circles vaunted a sort of pious “detachment” which was understood to mean the avoidance of conflict as an evil in and of itself. Marital strife was rewritten as something abnormal and demeaning. The mantra of tolerance took hold even in the most intimate forms of interpersonal communion.
When a fear of conflict predominates in a marriage, spouses are left with the message that suffering is needless and ineffectual. Discord is regarded as not merely pointless, but also as irrational. As a result, husbands and wives enter into marriage in the seriously flawed belief that their union will be devoid of struggle. They believe that they should avoid all forms of arguments and quarrels. Conflict avoidance which germinated in political correctness went on to take root in an assortment of religious heresies. Even Christians, whose faith calls each follower of Christ to welcome the suffering that comes to all, teach courses in the “best” of their universities on Conflict Avoidance.
Yet in tolerating everything we stand up for nothing. Even a beloved spouse can lose respect in such emptiness. In avoiding conflict, spouses refuse to share innermost thoughts, flawed though they may be. In seeking peace at any price, they settle for sham relationships in which they put on layers and layers of hardened masks, no longer capable of offering the other cheek for anything.
This is not to suggest that virtue lies in venting one’s feelings, taking out anger on others, or engaging in primal screams. Those sorts of things have nothing to do with engaged conflict, but rather are self-centered vehicles for attention. Virtuous detachment from the pet peeves or passing moods of loved ones can indeed be the mainstay of healthy relationships. After all, without a certain amount of detachment, spouses allow themselves to get hooked into needless conflict, anxiety, or even dread, all of which keep a marriage frozen in inaction. Without detachment, lovers give in to the world’s baser temptations and fail to prepare for the mystery and adventure of conflict grounded in Christ.
In healthy conflict, pragmatic action meets spiritual contemplation. Contemplative prayer is no less essential than practical choice. Through faith and reason, the repeated avoidance of conflict is recognized as anything but virtuous. Instead, valor is found in three giving acts:
The Gift of Listening: First, even while the heart pulsates with fury, and even as the tongue yearns to lash out its side of the story, the Christian enters into the mystery of conflict by listening. This is the sort of listening that gives full attention. This is the sort of listening that seeks to place [one]self in the other’s position. Such listening often becomes a great penance. Yet precisely because it is so difficult, such listening transforms the unforgiving moment into a great act of love. This transforming listening is directed both to God, whose help is earnestly sought in the midst of human cruelty, as well as to the loved one, who by all appearances seems to want to inflict upon the other all possible kinds of human wounds. Yet in spite of these hurts and temptations, the spouse intentionally offers the gift of listening.
The Gift of Voice: Next, even though a spouse may want to paw the floor in a rage ready to contradict each argumentative point, the husband or wife invests the time to reframe what has just been conveyed not only to give a sympathetic voice, but also to make sure that words have in fact been comprehended. “I think I hear you. You feel as though I betrayed you in front of your relatives by what I failed to say in your defense and you are cut to the quick that I would leave you when you needed me most.” Such reframing can take heroism, but it always entails an empathy that gives priority to mutual understanding. In truth, a first reaction may have been to say: “You are the most sensitive and paranoid person I’ve ever known and you drive me crazy!” Yet the spouse knows that conflict entails a process, and that process takes time and mystery.
The Gift of Self: This is perhaps the most difficult of all three steps. In the gift of self, the spouse exposes his or her weaknesses, vulnerabilities, and even stupidities. This is where a husband or wife begins, not by a rational or legalistic refutation of the thinking of the other, but rather by pointing out the reality of rising anger even when such anger is not understood by the one experiencing it. “I’ve got to tell you that I am so furious at you right now, but the truth of the matter is I’m not sure why I have all these boiling emotions! I think I might really be mad at myself for not standing up for you and yet at the same time, I’m so conflicted because I hate family fights. We had them all through my childhood and I don’t want to go there again. It’s not that I don’t want to be there for you, it’s just that I don’t always think it’s worth an argument. Tonight I can only assure you of two things. I promise to take twenty-four hours to think about what you just said. Just as important, I want you to know that I love you even when it seems like I’m not standing up for you. Give me a day and then let’s talk again.”
After that, it is critical to revisit the conversation as promised. Do not let the twenty-four hours pass without this reconvening. Come together again to go through these three steps over and over, until at least you can agree to disagree. When conflict is embraced in this fashion, Christ provides the links to deeper intimacy not only with the loved one, but also with Himself. When you invite Christ into your conflicts, you invite the miraculous. At the same time, you give witness to the reality that no human person can solve problems alone or is in control of life. In the example of St. Paul, admit to the mystery of both good and evil. In order to enter into that mystery, you need God.
There are no coincidences in life. If God has allowed a conflict, follow the example of the early American patriots who faced each new conflict squarely. Whether the human burden is great or small, conflict can provide a moment of growth. Yield to God’s inspiration and let prudence help you choose the right time and the right words. Conflict allows for moments not only of self-mastery, but also of intensely personal communion with a loved one. Do not run from such a graced opportunity. Mediate on conflict in the example of Christ. Recall that during His Passion, at His own trial, Christ never gave in to petty verbal confrontations. Nor, however, did He ever run from conflict. If you allow Christ to mediate for you, you will find the humility to keep the focus on Truth and to transform every conflict into a moment of deeper intimacy.
An author and attorney who spent nearly two decades in trial litigation, Mary Meade directs the Marriage and Family Recovery Programs, Inc., for wounded marriages, troubled teens, workplace disputes, and recovering clergy. For further information, log on to www.marriagerecovery.com. Mrs. Meade is also the Director of the Natural Law Study Center in the Diocese of Arlington.
