Before I was ordained a priest last year, I had no idea how often clergy hear words like these: "________ is a problem for me. I'm considering leaving the parish." A conflict has arisen, communication has broken down, and a member of the community is threatening to move on.

A few years ago, I heard an internationally recognized priest and scholar talk about this phenomenon. He has experienced much church conflict over the years. But his position on this was clear: "When things get rough," he said, "I don't threaten to leave. I threaten to stay."

To be sure, there are situations where ending a relationship, be it between two people or a family in a parish, is the healthiest option. Everyone involved has made a sincere effort to see the other's point of view, to invite God in, to reconcile beyond our narrow self-interest. All apparent alternatives have been exhausted and it can't be salvaged. It's best for all concerned to move on. We each have to decide for ourselves when we've come to that moment.

Still, the priest's statement brings me up short. It says, in effect, "I know things are difficult between us. Things are awkward, and scary, and aggravating. I don't like you very much right now and I have enough stress in my life without having it at church, too.

"But living in community is important to me, and spiritual maturity sometimes demands being uncomfortable with what other people do. I believe God calls us to real, sometimes painful, commitments. That means being sure I've given this my very best shot before I even think of leaving."

The statement shows an understanding of a fundamental truth of relationships: Threatening to leave rarely makes them stronger. In fact, it usually does the opposite. Everyone already knows that walking away is an alternative. But threatening to leave usually frightens the others involved, and frightened people rarely come up with good, creative solutions. Frightened people also become rigid, both literally and figuratively, and rigid people have a hard time inviting God's gentle grace into the situation -- an essential part of our lives together as a church.

Years ago, my wife, Karla, and I agreed never to threaten each other with leaving. Sure, we might think it (who doesn't, sometimes?), but we set acting on the thought, and voicing it, off limits for a practical reason: Doing so didn't work. It usually caused even more damage, and it just wasn't worth it.

In disciplining ourselves, we were, in effect, "threatening to stay." And the security of knowing that we really do want to be in deep relationship has made creative, sometimes surprising, solutions possible. We have felt God's movement in our life together, and our intimacy has deepened over time as we've worked through situations that had once seemed intractable.

In the Anglican Communion, we have traditionally held individual conscience in the highest regard. Of course, we regularly disagree with how things should get done in our parishes, dioceses, and the church as a whole. But for centuries, we've been an example to the world of how to disagree respectfully about matters of the greatest importance. And in a society growing increasingly "uncivil," this trait may never have been more important than it is right now.

We have been entrusted with a powerful gift for serving the world: thoughtful, passionate discourse within a spiritual community. Difficult feelings, including anger, are sometimes the price for this liveliness -- for being real with one another in committed relationship -- and there may indeed be times to leave. But there's simply no question that we'll experience a stronger, deeper community -- a community with more room for God's leading -- if our starting place is "threatening to stay."

Our guest columnist is the Rev. Robert E. Droste, associate at Trinity Church, San Francisco, Calif.