In your mind’s eye, picture the tightrope act at the circus.
The performer takes a slow, deliberate step out onto the wire to test its tension and strength. Once the wire has proved worthy, the performer takes an additional step. Then another.
Now both feet are on the wire. Every step away from the platform is a test to see whether the tightrope will hold and the precarious balance can be maintained.
Once the performer trusts the wire (and herself), artistry can begin. Steps forward, steps backward. Her pace increases. She leans in gravity-defying tilts away from the wire’s safety. Her arms are now outstretched with only one leg planted. Then a handstand. Maybe a cartwheel or a ride on a tricycle just to show off.
There, on that high wire, is an image of what happens in human interactions and in organizational life every day. It happens in every Christian institution, in every congregation.
The new employee, the new volunteer or the first-time visitor arrives, and tentatively, he or she tests the space: Can I be myself here? Is it worth my time? Do I have something to give? Are my gifts desired and received? Does anyone care about me? Does anyone even notice that I am here?
Assuming that those first steps prove steady, the new person continues to risk more steps, as each one proves steady. It continues like this, one step at a time. He takes on more responsibility; he speaks up in a meeting and offers an unpopular or differing opinion. He visits a church school class. He asks the pastor to coffee.
Each step tests the wire. Can it hold his weight, his needs, his hopes? Is the developing relationship worthy of trust?
Given the nature of human beings and human institutions, at some point he will experience an unsteady step. The wire will give, or he will lose his balance. It was a step too far. It was too much too soon. The trust, in himself or the institution, was greater than the wire could bear.
You know what this looks like.
In a professional setting, it happens when you offer opinions and are consistently summarily ignored. It happens when your boss intentionally or unintentionally undermines your work or your relationship with other colleagues. It happens when you entrust your professional future to someone who turns out to be self-interested and self-promoting. Likewise, it happens when you overstep your responsibility or overestimate your ability to deliver on promises made.
On a personal level, it happens every time you entrust part of your story to someone who then shares it inappropriately. Conversely, it happens when you share too much of your story and the other person backs away because he is overwhelmed. It happens when you need someone to support you and, for whatever reason, she can’t.
In each of these situations, and others like them, you find yourself seeking a new equilibrium -- perhaps closer to the platform, where there is less risk and more safety.
What does this look like? Now you’re quiet in meetings. You don’t raise your hand for new assignments. You don’t come to coffee hour. You skip church school and drop out of the choir. You use the side door of the sanctuary after church and don’t speak to the pastor.
This continues for a while, until there is enough trust accumulated to risk taking another meaningful step forward in the relationship.
The challenge in this moment for the leader is to ignore any instinct to chase; the pastoral instinct in this situation can be problematic, if not completely self-defeating. It is easy for clergy types to hound someone (frequent phone calls, repeated emails, impromptu check-ins, interrogating questions), even with the best of intentions.
What the literature suggests, though, is that this kind of persistence does not contribute to the repair of trust. It may actually lead to a further withdrawal from -- if not outright rupture of -- the relationship.
Instead, these steps can help restore trust:
- a meaningful demonstration of concern, including an apology (if warranted)
- a consistency and predictability of behavior
- transparency when possible and an explanation of why when not
There are some specific challenges in this for leaders who are working to repair trust with those who are their “direct reports.”
While trust repair always requires patience, that can be especially difficult when dealing with an employee who has come to have low trust in the institution or a colleague, particularly if the supervisor believes that the low level of trust is unjustified or unfair. Even when it is justified, work and ministry must still continue, and the contribution of the person who has a low level of trust is no less important now than it was before the breach of trust.
Thus, it is crucial during times of trust repair to be mindful of honoring the professional relationship:
- assuming that the other person’s intentions are good
- asking questions rather than presuming answers
- talking to each other rather than about each other
Of course, at the same time, seasons of trust repair are also seasons of discernment: How important is this relationship to me? If I cannot trust this other person (or this institution), then what should I do? If I have done my best to restore trust but to no avail, at what point should I stop trying?
These are tedious questions with which to struggle, but trust repair -- like trust itself -- is a walk on a tightrope.
