by Judson Edwards

Once upon a time, not long ago it seems, I embarked on a journey to be a pastor. I felt called to do battle with the forces of evil in the name of God. I was going to be on the side of righteousness, of course, in a cosmic struggle with sin. Life was sharp in its distinctions in those early days—God/Satan, Light/Dark, Righteousness/Sin, Right/Wrong—and I was determined to be on the left side of those distinctions.

At some indefinable point in my ministry, though, I discovered the Decision Paradox: People seldom have to choose between right and wrong. It completely exploded my early concept of ministry, but I do believe that knowing about this paradox has made me a wiser pastor and a better person.

Frankly, I’m surprised now I didn’t learn the Decision Paradox earlier. I kept bumping into it, but my old training in seeing life as a series of either/or propositions blurred my vision. I began to notice, though, that people in my church did not have to make decisions between right and wrong. When they talked to me about the gut-wrenching issues they were dealing with, my old template of black and white was useless. Come to find out, these people were not wrestling with black and white decisions at all. They had to choose among various shades of gray.

• The family with the husband and father on life support. Should they keep him hooked up indefinitely, or should they pull the plug?

• The old couple living in their beloved house for fifty years. In light of their health problems, should they move to an assisted living facility? But then again, in light of their long history in that house, could they bear to leave it? Which way should they go?

I discovered these were the kinds of issues with which people struggled. Neither one of these issues was black and white. Neither one of them fit the ministerial template I had imposed upon reality. Neither one of them needed a crusader on a white horse with simplistic answers. This was the real stuff of life, and it had nothing to do with choosing God over the devil. It had everything to do with trying to discern the will of God in a complicated, gray world.

Knowing and affirming the Decision Paradox has affected my life as a pastor in at least four ways:

First, it has enabled me to look at the “gray-ness” in my own life. You see, not only did I discover that the world is more complicated than simple blacks and whites; I also discovered that I am a mixed bag of blacks and whites. This paradox reigns not only in the world at large; it reigns in my own heart. I am more complicated and “gray” than I care to say.

My old image of myself as the “good pastor” with the “good answers” trying to convince bad people to become “good people” went down in a heap of honest reality. The truth, I discovered as I wrestled with the real issues real people brought to me, is that I am a confused sinner myself, not some pristine, lily-white answer-man for God.

For one thing, I’m not a “good pastor.” I am a pastor, for sure, but one with his own problems and “issues.” To call myself “good” is more than a stretch.

I am not loaded with “good answers” either. I think I have learned a few things along the way, but I know a lot less now than I did when I was crusading atop my white horse. I no longer think I have to dispense simple answers to people’s complicated problems.

And, for that matter, I no longer think I need to convince bad people to become “good people.” It has turned out that some of those bad people are better people than me, even more Christian than I. I no longer say or imply, “Come, be as good as me,” but “Let’s all go throw our floundering selves on the mercy of God.”

Second, it has enabled me to sit more comfortably in the silence. Without an awareness of the Decision Paradox, I felt obligated to provide airtight answers to people. When they grieved, I had to tell them why God had taken their loved one. When they came with perplexing questions about the Bible, I had to give them an impressive response. When they were angry with God, I had to defend God and quote Scriptures to back up my defense. Without the Decision Paradox, I had to be an answer-man, a holy encyclopedia of retorts and responses.

But once I learned the Decision Paradox, I gave that up. I don’t have to tell anyone why God took their loved one. I don’t know why that person died, so why pretend? I don’t have to have every answer to every question about the Bible. Some of the Bible is so mystifying I have no clue how to interpret it. And when someone is angry with God, I usually think that person has every right to be angry, and I make little effort to defend or protect God. I might even sit beside that person in her grief and rail at God myself.

Since most of the decisions people have to grapple with are various shades of gray, why try to inject black and white into the mix? Why not sit with them in silence in the grayness of it all, seeking the will of God, asking not for answers but for Presence?

Understanding the Decision Paradox, that people seldom have to choose between right and wrong, means that I’m free—no, called—to sit with people at the crossroads and not yell advice at them.

Third, it has kept me from being seduced by the false dichotomies of our culture. Because the Decision Paradox makes me aware of nuance and subtlety, it rescues me from the “broad brush” mentality used in television and newspapers. The media must communicate in sound bites and headlines, which means there is no place at all for nuance and subtlety.

According to the media, you have to be pro-homosexuality or anti-homosexuality, pro-abortion or anti-abortion, pro-president or anti-president, Republican or Democrat, conservative or liberal. Because time and space are short, the media must paint with a broad brush, and we all get the idea that reality is an either/or experience. We’re either in this camp, or we’re in the opposing camp. Life on screen and page is depicted as cut and dried.

But, as I said, life in the real world is anything but cut and dried. Not all homosexuals are exactly alike. Not all abortions are exactly alike either. It is possible to like some things about the president and despise other things. It is also possible to vote Republican one election and Democrat the next election and to be conservative on some issues and liberal on others. Life in the real world is messy, gray, and complicated and can’t be captured in sound bites and headlines.

As a pastor aware of the Decision Paradox, I can admit that fact and minister accordingly. I can take up residence in the uncomfortable “middle” and not identify with any of the extremes the media portrays. I know that life is not really black and white and that many of the decisions people have to make are not black and white either.

If I can provide them some wisdom in that process or be a pastoral presence of love in that process, I will be giving them the best gift I can offer.

Fourth, it has informed my preaching and invited me to be honest in the pulpit. When I remember that life is not usually black and white and that the decisions people have to make are not black and white, I can then try to fashion sermons that better match the real colors of their world.

I realize now that for years my sermons have been a whole lot simpler than reality is. For years, I have handed searching people three points and a poem. More than I care to admit, my sermons are still simpler than real life.

But knowing the Decision Paradox at least helps me try to craft sermons that match people’s experience of life. If the decisions they are wrestling with are tough, gray, and complicated, I can hardly justify sermons that are easy, white, and simple. If I give them enough of those easy, white, simple sermons, they will eventually shake my hand at the door on Sunday morning and tell me how wonderful the message was, but then they’ll leave knowing that I don’t really have a clue.

But I’m getting better. The older I get, the more honest I become...I know better now, and my heart is not in “The Six Ways to Know the Will of God.” I know that life is not as simple as my sermon and that to reach modern people, I had better get in touch with their experience.

Among other things, I have the Decision Paradox to thank for that.

From The Leadership Labyrinth, by Judson Edwards.

Click here for more information on The Leadership Labyrinth.