I've listened to and participated in all sorts of conversations this week, and despite the diversity of topics and opinions, one theme seems to hover over many of the discussions: distrust.
In my usual crowds, the distrust is mostly directed toward staff and GSC, and revolves around the sense that our way of doing business is becoming increasingly centralized, top-down, disrespectful of the authority of the classes, and intolerant of dissent. We look around at some of the things happening around the RCA in regards to baptism, church-planting, and commissioned pastors, and wonder, "Who moved my denomination?" There is also some talk about what we cannot say for fear that it will hurt the Belhar's chances of passing. We can't talk too much about equality or inclusion, and God help us if we use the now-suspect word "justice," for fear that someone will interpret it as a clear sign that we will use the Belhar to force affirmation of homosexuality.
In other circles, the distrust is aimed toward, well, people who believe what I do about the gospel's call to love and welcome all people. They fear the adoption of the Belhar because of how it might be used to affirm homosexuality. In a broader sense, I think they are also worried about another agenda usurping their priority on evangelism.
I think these are all legitimate concerns and necessary topics of conversation. We need to be able to question the motives, tactics, and direction of our leadership. We need to be able to talk about whether practices adhere to our standards for doctrine and polity. But there is a fine line between expressing sincere concern in the interest of working out our life together, and operating in a state of paranoia about what "they" might do.
I have to remind myself sometimes that it is completely reasonable for someone who believes that affirmation of LGBT persons is not a biblically faithful position to question whether I will push them to embrace something they believe is sin. I also have to remind myself that the fact that they ask this does not mean that they can't or won't be able to think of the Belhar in a broader way and discern whether it should be adopted based on something bigger than fear of this possible use of it. I have to hope that they can and will. I have to trust that our commonalities can help us work out how to live together in our differences. And I have to hope as well that those who disagree with me can find some measure of trust that I, too, seek to be faithful to the gospel, and that I, too, make decisions about my beliefs and practices that are based out of a sincere desire for us to follow Christ. If we can't get to at least that basic level of trust in one another, it will be less and less possible for us to even speak to each other, let alone be a witness to God's work in the world.