In the summer of 2011, while I was cleaning out closets in preparation for my move to Pittsburgh, I unearthed a one-gallon plastic jug of clear liquid from under a bag of scrap fabric. At first I thought it was spring water, but upon closer inspection, I discovered it was something quite quirky, long forgotten but memorable. I yanked it from the closet and called out, “Hey, I found the Schweitzer fluid!” I could hear my daughter laughing from the other room. She replied, “The Schweitzer fluid? Really? I think I need some.” I went in search of a spray bottle.

We had acquired this mystical elixir on a family trip to Amish Country in the summer of 1993, where we stayed on a small homestead called “Old Fogey Farm.” The farmer was named Tom Fogey and his eccentric wife (the “farmist”) went by the moniker, “Biz.” She taught us how to milk the goat and tend to the pot-bellied pig, she serenaded us with Jeanette McDonald tunes over farmhand-sized breakfasts, and she regaled us with tales about the benefits of Schweitzer fluid (named no doubt in homage to Albert). Clearly, she was persuasive enough to unload a gallon on the trusting (gullible?) Zucker clan.

According to Biz, one spritz of this fantastic fluid smack dab in the face will calm a person down instantaneously. I know what you’re thinking – any one would calm down from the shock of being sprayed in the face! Not exactly rocket science. Yet, considering how cranky our kids had been in the sweltering July heat, I figured it was worth a shot. So, we spent the rest of our vacation spritzing our kids, each other, and even ourselves on occasion. Somehow, it actually “worked.” For months afterwards, the phrase, “Get the Schweitzer fluid,” became the in-joke at our house.

Congregational meetings are ideal occasions to stock up on Schweitzer fluid. Often, confronting differences of opinion and personality, and working towards a conclusion can be tense for us, rather than heart-warming, especially if old grudges or hurts are simmering. We might find it harder to listen well if we anticipate debating new church policies, GA votes, budgets, or initiatives with folks who have pushed our buttons before.

Here are some ways to give yourself a “virtual” Schweitzer spritz: Breathe deeply; do not come hungry; do not respond to antagonistic remarks in kind; listen for understanding rather than agreement; consider whether there is a possibility of resolving the conflict before (not during) the meeting and initiate the process; accept that our polity is democratic which means the most votes will prevail and consensus may not be possible.

If all else fails, excuse yourself, duck into the bathroom, and then splash (or spritz!) some cold water on your face. It may not be Schweitzer fluid, but it’s wet. At least it will bring you back to the moment. Count to ten. Count your blessings. Thanks, Biz……and Albert, too.