We're Losing a Vital Connection with Other People
By Jim Pfiffer
The Star-Gazette [New York]
May 16, 2007
http://www.stargazettenews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070516/COLUMNIST36/705160305
We're losing touch with one another. We're reluctant to hug a co-worker, clasp a friend's hand or put an arm around a shoulder in a caring gesture.
Our out-of-touch society evolved from an increased public awareness and fear of sexual abuse, and the media publicity of the abuse.
Yes, we must protect children from predators and be professional at work, but the political correctness pendulum has swung too far. It's stealing the comfort and compassion that can only be expressed through the touch of another human. From schools and shopping malls to the workplace and politics, hugs, kisses and hand clasps are endangered species. We are afraid to show affection.
"You can't be yourself anymore," says the Rev. Horace Stoddard of Pine City Baptist Church. "In the past, I might have given someone a hug who had made a great accomplishment. Now I'm not so apt to do it. Someone might read something else into it. It's not good enough to avoid evil. Now we have to avoid the appearance of evil."
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| The Rev. Horace Stoddard of Pine City Baptist Church greets a member of the congregation last week. Stoddard and other area clergy members say our no-touching culture can make it harder to offer comfort to those in need. Photo by Jeff Richards |
The clergy is one profession we seek out for a shoulder to cry on. But that changed with the widely publicized sexual abuse scandals in the Catholic Church and other institutions. Now many clergy members are less likely to show physical affection to their congregants.
Humans need physical contact. Touching and intimacy strengthen healthy relationships and communicate feelings that words cannot.
"When I go visit someone in the hospital, I like to make sure I touch their hand or forehead to give them that sense of intimacy that lets them know I care," says Stoddard, a minister since 1965.
I hug and kiss most of my good friends, male and female. If it makes someone uncomfortable, I shake hands instead. I'm a tactile being. I like to touch a friend's arm or pat a shoulder while conversing. I appreciate it when friends reciprocate.
In most churches I've attended, a time is set aside during services for friends and strangers to share handshakes, hugs and "peace be with you" greetings. I adore that fellowship.
But the clergy may not be as quick to touch and embrace as they were several years ago. The boundaries and rules have changed.
"In 2003, our general convention passed a resolution mandating training for the prevention of sexual misconduct," says Father Bill Lutz of Trinity Episcopal Church in Elmira. "We train our church leaders and people who work in the church to make it a safe church, especially for people who work with children or others in intimate settings.
"The policy was always there; it's just been brought to light, because in the past it was ignored or misused."
The new rules mean some clergy members are less likely to have intimate one-on-one conversations with members of the congregation.
"I still have those private conversations with people," says Lutz, who has been at Trinity Church for seven years. "But now I have to let someone else know about it or have them nearby."
Lutz says he is no less compassionate with church members.
"Every situation and every person is different," Lutz explains. "The other side of it is how comfortable am I in hugging other people."
The new rules brought about the installation of windows in the once solid classroom doors at the Pine City Baptist Church, so teachers and students could be observed from outside.
"It was done more for the teacher's protection, so no accusations were made," Stoddard explains.
That protection includes the appearance of impropriety. We're afraid an innocent gesture will be perceived as something sinister by nearby observers.
"In today's climate people see snakes under rocks before the rock is even turned over," Stoddard explains. "It's not so much a heightened awareness as a heightened suspicion that someone's motives might not be pure. They might think the hug is for the benefit of the hugger instead of the one being hugged."
Rabbi Mimi Biatch of Congregation B'Nai Israel in West Elmira says she's less likely to hug a parishioner now than in the past. But Biatch was never a hugger. She sees herself as a teacher and says the change in rules have made her a better educator.
"I find that talking to people and helping them draw out their problems or issues is more important than any hug I can give them," Biatch explains.
Our reluctance to embrace and touch one another comes at time when people are becoming more isolated from human contact. E-mails, text messaging, fax machines and cell phones have reduced our precious face-to-face interactions.
"We're in a high-tech, low-touch world," Stoddard says. "And we humans are famished for that sense of intimacy and touch. The church used to be the place where it was OK to do that."
If we lose touch with each other, we lose touch with our community, society and ourselves.
Then we don't have a prayer.
Jim Pfiffer's Real Life column about people, places and life in the Twin Tiers appears Wednesdays and Fridays. You can reach him by e-mail: jpfiffer@stargazette.com.
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