I just got back from spending several days with about 70 other InterVarsity staff at our Regional staff conference. We typically alternate at these annual meetings between training years and spiritual formation years. This year was a spiritual formation year.
We spent a couple days living, breathing, and soaking in Jesus' parable of the two lost sons and one recklessly generous Father. Hence my blog posts last week pondering the story.
Of course, since there's 70 InterVarsity staff all together studying this passage and sharing together, the time in Scripture and prayer and the caliber of the testimonies was outstanding. It's an honor to work alongside such tremendously gifted and honest people.
But also given that it was IV staff who were studying this passage together, the majority of us resonated more with the older son's lost-ness than we did with the younger. The older son is the one who follows the rules, obeys the Father, stays at home and works hard while the younger son goes off and parties his Father's money away.
But the older son is so caught up in his own self-righteousness that he misses the heart of the Father.
So towards the end of the time, as many staff confessed their resonance with the older son's issues, one staff asked me a great and very thoughtful question. If I'm an older son-type, I know that the worst parts of my staff work will be to want my students to behave like older sons. I want them to work hard. I want them to be diligent and faithful. If they sign up to be a small group Bible study leader, they need to do it. My chapter runs much better if I've got a leadership team of older sons!
So if in the parable the younger son is welcomed home seemingly without consequences for his drunk and disorderliness, what does that mean for us in terms of holding others accountable for their actions?
I was pondering this in the car with my wife on the way home and I think there's a couple directions to go with this.
First, the younger son's part of the parable ends with the welcome-back party. But part of being welcomed back into the family means precisely to enter into the common life of the household. The next day there will be chores to do around the farm. There's a certain level of entering responsibly into the daily life of the family that would naturally occur.
In other words, eventually the party is over and there is at the very least work for the younger son to do. He's not doing it as a servant, he's been welcomed back fully as a son. But there's work to do nonetheless.
But perhaps the bigger issue for those of us in authority over others as we think about accountability is the question of the "no" serving the "yes" that has often been a topic of reflection here.
If I'm going to confront someone for something they've done or not done, the question of my own motive can never be far from my thoughts. I have all kinds of older-son-syndrome motivations that can hijack a perfectly reasonable and good conversation that I'd need to have with someone.
So the question is this for me: if I'm confronting someone with a "no" to their activities--say it's someone who's not following through on a commitment to lead a small group Bible study--then the question is can I see the "yes" that my "no" is supposed to be pointing to and articulate that faithfully?
In the Scriptures, God's "no" is never the last word on us...at least, not yet. Throughout the Scriptures, God's last word to us is always "yes." There are lots of no's, of course. But the no's of God are always meant to serve his final and absolute yes to us in Jesus Christ.
"No" to idolatory, because if you worship some no-god, your soul will shrivel up and die. No to broken sexual expression because our sexuality is meant to bless us and others around us, not used like some weapon to exploit, consume, or entertain us. Every no points to a yes.
So if I'm going at someone and holding them accountable out of anger or frustration--just with my no, in other words--then I'm probably not in step with the Spirit. If I can approach someone with a no in order to point them to God's greater yes, then at least I'm in a posture of loving them and being for them, not just dropping the proverbial hammer on them.
This doesn't solve every issue, but it's at least a decent place to start.
Showing posts with label leadership. Show all posts
Showing posts with label leadership. Show all posts
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Friday, October 08, 2010
Vision and Strategy Meet Blankie and Bedtime
I tend to be a big-picture guy. I like nuance in books that I read or sermons that I listen to, but when it comes to action I just want to get to the goal and I haven't always thought through the best ways to get there.
But then God gave me kids. And my kids aren't necessarily motivated by the end game...say, getting to bed, for example. They get tired and cranky towards bed time. My solution has been to try to rally them towards bed. I've historically done this by trumpeting the wonders of a soft, cozy bed and by invoking visions of getting all snuggled up and drifting off to sleep. But they need more help than that.
After a couple of years of maddening bed time processes that ended in melt-downs, time-outs, and me and the kids locked into a grudge match, I've realized that the vision (getting to bed) isn't as helpful in this situation as breaking down the process.
So now as we're headed to bed, I focus on breaking down the process into bite-sized chunks: "We've just got four good decisions to make and then we can get to bed: quick bath, brush teeth, get pj's on, and climb into bed! Can you make that first good decision?"
When the kids are gearing up the whine-fest as we make our way toward bed ("I'm too tiiiiiired to get ready for bed! I need my blankie! Where's my doll?"), we re-direct. I try to get them talking in terms of the next good decision. This has gone a long way towards making bed-time less of a disaster and (slightly) more sane process.
I've come to realize that dealing with a task that feels overwhelming isn't helped by more pep-rallies towards the big-picture vision or goal. Nor are we helped overly-much by the proverbial stick: time-outs or other consequences, although that's certainly implemented and necessary from time to time.
What's needed is to make the change or movement towards the goal manageable. We figure out what the next good and wise decision is. And then we do that. And then you do the next good and wise decision. And eventually you move towards the end-goal.
As I've reflected on this, I've realized that unfortunately my leadership has often been overly-dependent on rallying people towards a vision but not supplying the necessary "next wise step" towards getting us there.
Not that everything needs to be scripted, but there at least needs to be the recognition that working out those next wise steps is important to get the bus moving towards the goal. And creating those "next wise steps" might be the collaborative work of a group of leaders or members of an organization.
But bottom line: it can't just be all visions and pep-rallies and slogans. There has to be concrete, practical and as simple as possible steps of implementation--be that towards bed-time or towards developing a healthier campus ministry or even in our own personal lives like developing spiritual disciplines or losing weight.
We are more likely to move if the first steps don't feel overly-daunting. And of course, having that blankie already in hand is a helpful tool, too.
But then God gave me kids. And my kids aren't necessarily motivated by the end game...say, getting to bed, for example. They get tired and cranky towards bed time. My solution has been to try to rally them towards bed. I've historically done this by trumpeting the wonders of a soft, cozy bed and by invoking visions of getting all snuggled up and drifting off to sleep. But they need more help than that.
After a couple of years of maddening bed time processes that ended in melt-downs, time-outs, and me and the kids locked into a grudge match, I've realized that the vision (getting to bed) isn't as helpful in this situation as breaking down the process.
So now as we're headed to bed, I focus on breaking down the process into bite-sized chunks: "We've just got four good decisions to make and then we can get to bed: quick bath, brush teeth, get pj's on, and climb into bed! Can you make that first good decision?"
When the kids are gearing up the whine-fest as we make our way toward bed ("I'm too tiiiiiired to get ready for bed! I need my blankie! Where's my doll?"), we re-direct. I try to get them talking in terms of the next good decision. This has gone a long way towards making bed-time less of a disaster and (slightly) more sane process.
I've come to realize that dealing with a task that feels overwhelming isn't helped by more pep-rallies towards the big-picture vision or goal. Nor are we helped overly-much by the proverbial stick: time-outs or other consequences, although that's certainly implemented and necessary from time to time.
What's needed is to make the change or movement towards the goal manageable. We figure out what the next good and wise decision is. And then we do that. And then you do the next good and wise decision. And eventually you move towards the end-goal.
As I've reflected on this, I've realized that unfortunately my leadership has often been overly-dependent on rallying people towards a vision but not supplying the necessary "next wise step" towards getting us there.
Not that everything needs to be scripted, but there at least needs to be the recognition that working out those next wise steps is important to get the bus moving towards the goal. And creating those "next wise steps" might be the collaborative work of a group of leaders or members of an organization.
But bottom line: it can't just be all visions and pep-rallies and slogans. There has to be concrete, practical and as simple as possible steps of implementation--be that towards bed-time or towards developing a healthier campus ministry or even in our own personal lives like developing spiritual disciplines or losing weight.
We are more likely to move if the first steps don't feel overly-daunting. And of course, having that blankie already in hand is a helpful tool, too.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Three Boy Ducks in a Row and Serving Without Getting Soaking Wet
One of the things that I really love about my six-year-old boy is that he's got a sweet, sweet disposition. He's eager to please, eager to meet other kids (especially if there's a ball involved), and earnest about taking care of younger kids.
Last week at the beach, we met Citizen, a four-year boy that Davis buddied up with at the pool. They played together for a while and we connected with their parents. We promised to look for each other on the beach the next morning.
However, the next morning Davis found a new buddy, Jack. And Jack was a big, bad 7-year-old. Davis was smitten, following him around and eager to play whate
ver he was into.
Citizen showed up later that morning. And he was excited to see Davis...except Davis was too busy trying to impress and keep up with Jack to pay much attention to Citizen. The three of them walked around like ducks in a row: Jack in the lead, Davis eagerly behind him, Citizen chattering away at Davis, trying to keep up.
When Davis was in the position of authority and "power" by virtue of being older, he was very present and thoughtful about caring for a new buddy. When he was displaced from that position by virtue of being in a new relationship where he was the young one, he was too busy trying to keep up to serve Citizen in the same way.
I think this is true of all of us. It is impossible to serve from a place of uncertainty--at least for very long. We are hard-wired to make sure our own needs are met and then to serve from the overflow of that. If we are in deficit (emotionally, physically, etc) it's extremely hard to give to others.
And that's one of the reasons why the Scriptures promise us so very, very much.
Paul spends 11 chapters in Romans extolling and celebrating and outlining and working out all that God has done--the extravagance of his grace and mercy and power and wonder and all of the goodness of Jesus. Then he hashes out in great detail all the implications for us--we are not condemned, we are holy, free, filled with God's Spirit.
It's not until chapter 12 (out of 16 total chapters) that Paul makes the turn to the "therefore:" "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship." (Romans 12:1)
He spends eleven chapters telling us about God, God's plan, God's great love for us and all the implications for our identity and our certainty and our confidence. And not until he's unpacked all of that does he call us to serve God and serve one another (see the last four chapters of Romans!).
Serving out of an insecure place is like trying to pull someone up into a canoe in the middle of a river. You will both fall in and get wet. Serving out of the place God has put us is like pulling someone out of a river while standing on a rock.
God says all the infinite riches of his love, grace and mercy are poured out on us. And then he says to us in that place of perfect security and provision: "serve."
Apart from serving from that deeply rooted place, there are only two possible outcomes: serving that leads to burn-out, serving that leads to a deep-rooted self-righteousness, or serving that pretends to be about the other but is really about propping myself up--a using of others to make me feel good about me rather than a genuine serving of the other.
I gently encouraged Davis to tend to Citizen some--and he sweetly did so, or at least tried. I'm praying for him and for me, that we'd find our deep rootedness in the infinitely secure Christ so that we might be able to serve and love others...without getting soaking wet.
Last week at the beach, we met Citizen, a four-year boy that Davis buddied up with at the pool. They played together for a while and we connected with their parents. We promised to look for each other on the beach the next morning.
However, the next morning Davis found a new buddy, Jack. And Jack was a big, bad 7-year-old. Davis was smitten, following him around and eager to play whate
ver he was into.Citizen showed up later that morning. And he was excited to see Davis...except Davis was too busy trying to impress and keep up with Jack to pay much attention to Citizen. The three of them walked around like ducks in a row: Jack in the lead, Davis eagerly behind him, Citizen chattering away at Davis, trying to keep up.
When Davis was in the position of authority and "power" by virtue of being older, he was very present and thoughtful about caring for a new buddy. When he was displaced from that position by virtue of being in a new relationship where he was the young one, he was too busy trying to keep up to serve Citizen in the same way.
I think this is true of all of us. It is impossible to serve from a place of uncertainty--at least for very long. We are hard-wired to make sure our own needs are met and then to serve from the overflow of that. If we are in deficit (emotionally, physically, etc) it's extremely hard to give to others.
And that's one of the reasons why the Scriptures promise us so very, very much.
Paul spends 11 chapters in Romans extolling and celebrating and outlining and working out all that God has done--the extravagance of his grace and mercy and power and wonder and all of the goodness of Jesus. Then he hashes out in great detail all the implications for us--we are not condemned, we are holy, free, filled with God's Spirit.
It's not until chapter 12 (out of 16 total chapters) that Paul makes the turn to the "therefore:" "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship." (Romans 12:1)
He spends eleven chapters telling us about God, God's plan, God's great love for us and all the implications for our identity and our certainty and our confidence. And not until he's unpacked all of that does he call us to serve God and serve one another (see the last four chapters of Romans!).
Serving out of an insecure place is like trying to pull someone up into a canoe in the middle of a river. You will both fall in and get wet. Serving out of the place God has put us is like pulling someone out of a river while standing on a rock.
God says all the infinite riches of his love, grace and mercy are poured out on us. And then he says to us in that place of perfect security and provision: "serve."
Apart from serving from that deeply rooted place, there are only two possible outcomes: serving that leads to burn-out, serving that leads to a deep-rooted self-righteousness, or serving that pretends to be about the other but is really about propping myself up--a using of others to make me feel good about me rather than a genuine serving of the other.
I gently encouraged Davis to tend to Citizen some--and he sweetly did so, or at least tried. I'm praying for him and for me, that we'd find our deep rootedness in the infinitely secure Christ so that we might be able to serve and love others...without getting soaking wet.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Making New Friends & Situational Leadership (and Parenting)
"I don't know anyone in my class," one of our kids complained as we got ready for church on Sunday.
This was a bit confusing to her mother and I. She had complained about this the week before and when we got to church we found that she already had at least one friend in the class. And we had already encouraged her to go and meet other kids. What more could we do?
But my wife wisely saw a moment here to help our child learn some quality social skills.
"Maybe you need to introduce yourself," she said. She patiently talked through a script for how talk to a new person.
A couple hours later, we went to pick her up from her class. "I met nine new kids today!" she exclaimed gleefully before we even left the room. What our kid needed wasn't just encouragement. She needed specific direction.
One of the most helpful parts of my Area Director training a couple of weeks ago was the introduction to the Situational Leadership model. I think it applies to leadership, management, and parenting.
From the "supervisor" position, there's four basic postures: directive (specific instructions), coaching (they've got some basics but need concrete feedback and helps), supporting (they know what they're doing, they just need someone to believe in them and encourage them) and delegating.
Every supervisor (and parent) has a naturally more comfortable style. Both Kelly and I are naturally more the supportive type than directing, coaching or delegating.
The trick with supervision (and parenting) is matching your style with the needs of the person you're working with. On Sunday, Kelly realized that our daughter needed more than just encouragement. She needed direction--specific, step-by-step instructions on what to do in a specific situation.
She changed her style to match the situation and person in question. And the results were dramatically different.
Perhaps you've been in a situation where you've needed more direction and all you got was support. Or perhaps you just needed to be left alone but you were stuck with a boss (or parent) who insisted on telling you exactly what to do.
Fewer things are more frustrating than having someone in authority over you who's doing all the wrong things but who thinks that they're doing it right.
Maybe you can take a look at this, think on these things, and make sure that person isn't you.
This was a bit confusing to her mother and I. She had complained about this the week before and when we got to church we found that she already had at least one friend in the class. And we had already encouraged her to go and meet other kids. What more could we do?
But my wife wisely saw a moment here to help our child learn some quality social skills.
"Maybe you need to introduce yourself," she said. She patiently talked through a script for how talk to a new person.
A couple hours later, we went to pick her up from her class. "I met nine new kids today!" she exclaimed gleefully before we even left the room. What our kid needed wasn't just encouragement. She needed specific direction.
One of the most helpful parts of my Area Director training a couple of weeks ago was the introduction to the Situational Leadership model. I think it applies to leadership, management, and parenting.
From the "supervisor" position, there's four basic postures: directive (specific instructions), coaching (they've got some basics but need concrete feedback and helps), supporting (they know what they're doing, they just need someone to believe in them and encourage them) and delegating.
Every supervisor (and parent) has a naturally more comfortable style. Both Kelly and I are naturally more the supportive type than directing, coaching or delegating.
The trick with supervision (and parenting) is matching your style with the needs of the person you're working with. On Sunday, Kelly realized that our daughter needed more than just encouragement. She needed direction--specific, step-by-step instructions on what to do in a specific situation.
She changed her style to match the situation and person in question. And the results were dramatically different.
Perhaps you've been in a situation where you've needed more direction and all you got was support. Or perhaps you just needed to be left alone but you were stuck with a boss (or parent) who insisted on telling you exactly what to do.
Fewer things are more frustrating than having someone in authority over you who's doing all the wrong things but who thinks that they're doing it right.
Maybe you can take a look at this, think on these things, and make sure that person isn't you.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Life-Changing Questions Part 3: Fastidiously Engaging the Transition Question
So if you've been following along with me closely (which is of course what the internet is all about right? fastidious and careful focus and absorption of ideas slowly?) you know that I've been thinking a good bit about how questions shape our lives.
For my wrap-up on this topic this week, I'll share the question that has been most 'live' for me as I've been in the midst of transition.
Transition for many of us isn't just a short period of time but a way of life. And the problem with transition is that it can be disorienting and overwhelming.
That's kind of how I've felt these past couple of weeks as I've been ramping up into a new position with InterVarsity. For those of you who are new, I've been a campus minister on campus for 14 years--9 at Virginia Commonwealth and 5 back at UNC, where I graduated from.
About a week ago I officially started as an Area Director for the Central Carolinas area, supervising UNC-Chapel Hill, Elon, Davidson and UNC-Charlotte.
As I've waded through manuals and sat through training sessions, there's just tons to think about. And I tend to be a global thinker, so I can get dizzied by how much there is to do, what could happen, what should happen, and all the rest...and then occasionally I get really nervous about totally screwing something up.
So to break this transition down a bit, I've had one question that I've come back to again and again over the past couple of weeks: "What's the next good or wise decision that I can make?"
Good trajectory and good "global" outcomes are the result of lots of small, good, right, wise decisions. So I'm trying to dial it down from thinking big-picture to focusing on what needs to happen next. Don't stress quite so much about how everything will turn out. I can't control that right now anyway. What I can control is me and what I do next.
What's the next good or wise decision that I need to make? Or put another way: what's the next good thing that I need to do?
Maybe for some of you out there, feeling similarly overwhelmed with life, this question will help you to settle in a little bit as it has for me.
For my wrap-up on this topic this week, I'll share the question that has been most 'live' for me as I've been in the midst of transition.
Transition for many of us isn't just a short period of time but a way of life. And the problem with transition is that it can be disorienting and overwhelming.
That's kind of how I've felt these past couple of weeks as I've been ramping up into a new position with InterVarsity. For those of you who are new, I've been a campus minister on campus for 14 years--9 at Virginia Commonwealth and 5 back at UNC, where I graduated from.
About a week ago I officially started as an Area Director for the Central Carolinas area, supervising UNC-Chapel Hill, Elon, Davidson and UNC-Charlotte.
As I've waded through manuals and sat through training sessions, there's just tons to think about. And I tend to be a global thinker, so I can get dizzied by how much there is to do, what could happen, what should happen, and all the rest...and then occasionally I get really nervous about totally screwing something up.
So to break this transition down a bit, I've had one question that I've come back to again and again over the past couple of weeks: "What's the next good or wise decision that I can make?"
Good trajectory and good "global" outcomes are the result of lots of small, good, right, wise decisions. So I'm trying to dial it down from thinking big-picture to focusing on what needs to happen next. Don't stress quite so much about how everything will turn out. I can't control that right now anyway. What I can control is me and what I do next.
What's the next good or wise decision that I need to make? Or put another way: what's the next good thing that I need to do?
Maybe for some of you out there, feeling similarly overwhelmed with life, this question will help you to settle in a little bit as it has for me.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Polling the Audience: What Questions Have Changed Your Life?
So I've been thinking a lot about good questions this summer. I'm thinking particularly about what it means to lead by asking good questions. How do I make question-asking my default mode of leading rather than the grand pronouncements and overflowing words of golden wisdom that come much more naturally and seem (to me anyway) to ring with echoes of perfectly enchanted wisdom?
One way for me to grow into this: poll the audience.
Last week I was meeting with an occasional mentor of mine and I asked him what I'll ask you, oh wonderful reader: what is a question that has stuck with you or most obviously changed the trajectory in your life?
The man I was meeting with last week gave me this answer that he had read several years ago: "What do people experience in your presence?"
He unfolded the many ways the Lord had used this question in his life. This man works out of his home. His wife cares for one of their grandkids several days a week. What does his three-year-old granddaughter experience in his presence as he passes through to make a sandwich during his lunch break? A distracted granddad? Or one who is present to her and engaging with her.
What do his co-workers experience in his presence? What about those who work for him? What about those he works for? This question had re-framed the world for him in ways that un-selfed him and freed him to be attentive to the needs of others.
What do people experience in your presence? A great question that's re-shaped this man's life as he makes decisions that literally impact thousands of people.
This is always risky in blogger-world (and I suspect I'll get much more response over on Facebook, where I tend to get most of my snarky and serious comments), but I'll put it out there anyway: what about you? What questions have stuck with you or have changed your trajectory subtle or not-so-subtle ways?
Perhaps you need to sit on this and come back to me. That's fine. But if you've got a good question, I'd love to hear it.
One way for me to grow into this: poll the audience.
Last week I was meeting with an occasional mentor of mine and I asked him what I'll ask you, oh wonderful reader: what is a question that has stuck with you or most obviously changed the trajectory in your life?
The man I was meeting with last week gave me this answer that he had read several years ago: "What do people experience in your presence?"
He unfolded the many ways the Lord had used this question in his life. This man works out of his home. His wife cares for one of their grandkids several days a week. What does his three-year-old granddaughter experience in his presence as he passes through to make a sandwich during his lunch break? A distracted granddad? Or one who is present to her and engaging with her.
What do his co-workers experience in his presence? What about those who work for him? What about those he works for? This question had re-framed the world for him in ways that un-selfed him and freed him to be attentive to the needs of others.
What do people experience in your presence? A great question that's re-shaped this man's life as he makes decisions that literally impact thousands of people.
This is always risky in blogger-world (and I suspect I'll get much more response over on Facebook, where I tend to get most of my snarky and serious comments), but I'll put it out there anyway: what about you? What questions have stuck with you or have changed your trajectory subtle or not-so-subtle ways?
Perhaps you need to sit on this and come back to me. That's fine. But if you've got a good question, I'd love to hear it.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Jesus: Not Just Nice, Brilliant (At Asking Questions Among Other Things)
One of the things that I've argued here many times is that the best leaders are the ones that ask the best questions, not the ones who have all the right answers--be that real or imaginary.
Something that I often challenge students to do during small group leader training is to spend their summers looking through the gospels looking at the questions that Jesus asked, how he led with questions, how he taught with questions.
Boundless wisdom, of course! Except I'd never done it.
But coming into my new job as an Area Director supervising campus staff in the Central Carolinas, I've had a deep conviction that I need to re-dedicate myself to asking questions more than giving answers. I started asking questions out of necessity 14 years ago. I want to get back to that.
So I'm taking my own advice: this summer I'm working through the gospels and each day I camp out on one or two questions that Jesus asks.
I'm part-way through Matthew and the thing that stands out so far is how perfectly Jesus used questions in the context of his teaching. It re-confirms one of Dallas Willard's favorite statements: Jesus isn't just nice. He's brilliant.
Take the Sermon on the Mount--one of the longest recorded sermons in all the Bible. It's no surprise that some of the phrases, images and teaching points that are most remembered have questions at the center of them.
Consider:
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?" (5:13)
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?
So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
(6:25-34)
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?" (7:3-4)
Asking a question in the midst of a long sermon is exquisite: it changes tempo, tone, pace and the type of imaginative engagement required by the listener.
That these images and phrases still have a place in our cultural lexicons and have stuck after 20 centuries is further proof--Jesus, not just nice but brilliant.
Something that I often challenge students to do during small group leader training is to spend their summers looking through the gospels looking at the questions that Jesus asked, how he led with questions, how he taught with questions.
Boundless wisdom, of course! Except I'd never done it.
But coming into my new job as an Area Director supervising campus staff in the Central Carolinas, I've had a deep conviction that I need to re-dedicate myself to asking questions more than giving answers. I started asking questions out of necessity 14 years ago. I want to get back to that.
So I'm taking my own advice: this summer I'm working through the gospels and each day I camp out on one or two questions that Jesus asks.
I'm part-way through Matthew and the thing that stands out so far is how perfectly Jesus used questions in the context of his teaching. It re-confirms one of Dallas Willard's favorite statements: Jesus isn't just nice. He's brilliant.
Take the Sermon on the Mount--one of the longest recorded sermons in all the Bible. It's no surprise that some of the phrases, images and teaching points that are most remembered have questions at the center of them.
Consider:
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?" (5:13)
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?
So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
(6:25-34)
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?" (7:3-4)
Asking a question in the midst of a long sermon is exquisite: it changes tempo, tone, pace and the type of imaginative engagement required by the listener.
That these images and phrases still have a place in our cultural lexicons and have stuck after 20 centuries is further proof--Jesus, not just nice but brilliant.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The Three Not-Buts To Avoid Leading Like DMV Employees
Most of us at some points in our lives will acquire some modicum of power or authority. It can happen in any number of contexts: arriving at middle management in cube world, teaching third-graders, leading a Sunday school class, having kids.
What's amazing is how many of us have been in situations where the leadership was terrible. We're good at complaining (the cheap currency of quick and convenient social interaction that creates shallow and temporary bonds) but we do precious little to do much better ourselves when we are in the places of influence, leadership, or authority.
And as history has shown, it doesn't take much more than a few drops of power for us to creatively find ways to abuse it. Power goes quickly to our heads and makes us insufferable bores and boars. This basically sums up much of your local DMV experiences.
Fortunately, the Scriptures have some helps for us. 1 Peter 5 has a series of 3 "not-buts" that we would all do well to consider as we all wade into the world of power at various levels.
The specific context is to leaders in the church, as you'll see. And that's clearly the first place these principles should be and need to be applied. But the principles can work out in almost any context of leadership, authority or power.
Not-But Number One:
"Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, serving as overseers—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be." (1 Peter 5:2)
Growing up, did you ever have a teacher who didn't want to be there? It was pretty obvious, wasn't it? They're just punching the clock, looking ahead to retirement or having to fill in on a subject or a class they'd rather not be teaching.
Leaders who serve solely out of obligation over the long haul do damage to the people under their leadership. It's a joyless task for leader and those under their leadership alike.
Now clearly in just about any situation, there are seasons where you stick with it just because you know it's what's needed. Parenting is one example--there are seasons where you serve because that's just what you have to do.
But on the whole, when the arc of our leadership or authority is exercised in a spirit that is joyful, glad, willing, it makes all the difference. My wife is a tremendous mother in large part because our kids know that she delights in them. There's a willingness to be with them that blesses them more than they will ever be able to express.
Not-But Number Two:
"not greedy for money, but eager to serve" (1 Peter 5:2)
Peter is eager to keep the young church's leadership from entering into questionable financial practices. And certainly the church over the centuries would have been better off if people in leadership had heeded this command.
But there's other things we can be greedy for: more power, approval, applause, influence, fame. These things are often at work in our hearts and are sometimes harder to prove.
I find it interesting that Peter couples "not greedy for money" with "eager to serve." Greed is all about me: my needs, my desires, my interests. Serving is always about the other. Not being greedy for money, power, approval, fame or whatever is graciously and violently corrected by an eagerness to serve the other.
Not-But Number Three:
"not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock." (1 Peter 5:3)
Like I mentioned earlier: a little power for many of us goes a long way to inflating our heads. We delight to wield our little tridents, flex our muscles, and exert our little wills in whatever little tributary is ours to open or close or re-direct.
Alas, church committees are full of people such as these.
Peter was well aware that power corrupts and that absolute power corrupts absolutely. He knew it, because he lived it. The Roman empire that so dominated the entire geo-political landscape and terrorized this tiny Jewish-splinter group who followed the teachings of a man named "Jesus" was littered with self-aggrandizing governors and emperors who "lorded it over."
Not so with you, Peter says. This was to be an essential part of the church's witness to the watching world. The kingdom of God will be different from Rome's kingdom. Watch and see how we lead.
Of course, there is One who lived all three of these "not-buts" perfectly. Jesus, the True Leader who handles power by giving it over to his Father, by serving his friends, by laying his life down for his enemies.
And we desperately need to pray that he'd raise up many who will lead as he did. We need it in his church and in the world for the sake of the world and the healing and redemption of all it--even of your local DMV.
What's amazing is how many of us have been in situations where the leadership was terrible. We're good at complaining (the cheap currency of quick and convenient social interaction that creates shallow and temporary bonds) but we do precious little to do much better ourselves when we are in the places of influence, leadership, or authority.
And as history has shown, it doesn't take much more than a few drops of power for us to creatively find ways to abuse it. Power goes quickly to our heads and makes us insufferable bores and boars. This basically sums up much of your local DMV experiences.
Fortunately, the Scriptures have some helps for us. 1 Peter 5 has a series of 3 "not-buts" that we would all do well to consider as we all wade into the world of power at various levels.
The specific context is to leaders in the church, as you'll see. And that's clearly the first place these principles should be and need to be applied. But the principles can work out in almost any context of leadership, authority or power.
Not-But Number One:
"Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, serving as overseers—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be." (1 Peter 5:2)
Growing up, did you ever have a teacher who didn't want to be there? It was pretty obvious, wasn't it? They're just punching the clock, looking ahead to retirement or having to fill in on a subject or a class they'd rather not be teaching.
Leaders who serve solely out of obligation over the long haul do damage to the people under their leadership. It's a joyless task for leader and those under their leadership alike.
Now clearly in just about any situation, there are seasons where you stick with it just because you know it's what's needed. Parenting is one example--there are seasons where you serve because that's just what you have to do.
But on the whole, when the arc of our leadership or authority is exercised in a spirit that is joyful, glad, willing, it makes all the difference. My wife is a tremendous mother in large part because our kids know that she delights in them. There's a willingness to be with them that blesses them more than they will ever be able to express.
Not-But Number Two:
"not greedy for money, but eager to serve" (1 Peter 5:2)
Peter is eager to keep the young church's leadership from entering into questionable financial practices. And certainly the church over the centuries would have been better off if people in leadership had heeded this command.
But there's other things we can be greedy for: more power, approval, applause, influence, fame. These things are often at work in our hearts and are sometimes harder to prove.
I find it interesting that Peter couples "not greedy for money" with "eager to serve." Greed is all about me: my needs, my desires, my interests. Serving is always about the other. Not being greedy for money, power, approval, fame or whatever is graciously and violently corrected by an eagerness to serve the other.
Not-But Number Three:
"not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock." (1 Peter 5:3)
Like I mentioned earlier: a little power for many of us goes a long way to inflating our heads. We delight to wield our little tridents, flex our muscles, and exert our little wills in whatever little tributary is ours to open or close or re-direct.
Alas, church committees are full of people such as these.
Peter was well aware that power corrupts and that absolute power corrupts absolutely. He knew it, because he lived it. The Roman empire that so dominated the entire geo-political landscape and terrorized this tiny Jewish-splinter group who followed the teachings of a man named "Jesus" was littered with self-aggrandizing governors and emperors who "lorded it over."
Not so with you, Peter says. This was to be an essential part of the church's witness to the watching world. The kingdom of God will be different from Rome's kingdom. Watch and see how we lead.
Of course, there is One who lived all three of these "not-buts" perfectly. Jesus, the True Leader who handles power by giving it over to his Father, by serving his friends, by laying his life down for his enemies.
And we desperately need to pray that he'd raise up many who will lead as he did. We need it in his church and in the world for the sake of the world and the healing and redemption of all it--even of your local DMV.
Friday, June 04, 2010
Sippy-Cup Assembly Lessons and Leading like Gates & Jobs
I was just sitting down to write this post when one of my kids (who I had just put to bed) started calling out. This is one of their favorite games--immediately upon exiting their rooms, the kids concoct various reasons why they need a return visit from a parent.
This, as you might imagine, gets rather tiresome to the parents who are ready for a breather.
So as Zoe called out to me, I initially ignored her. When it became clear that she wasn't going to stop on her own, I started to storm up the stairs, dialing up my best "I'm tired of this nonsense" lecture, complete with stern tone.
When I got to her, she was standing up in her room crying. The top to the sippy cup had popped off. She was all wet. I was the one who hadn't put the top on right. Daddy's fault. And to make it worse, I had diagnosed the problem and declared the solution before I had asked any questions and done any listening.
I've been thinking that something like this has occurred somewhere along the way in my work.
I came in with tons of questions about how to do my job. How do you give a good talk? How do you run good meetings? What do you say when a student comes to you with an eating disorder? What do you do if they mention suicidal thoughts? What do you say when a student says to you, "I think I'm gay" for the first time out-loud to anyone?
Somewhere along the way, I began to get some answers to my questions.
Naturally this is a good thing, but as I began to get answers, I began to stop asking questions. Not entirely, but there was a definite, if subtle, shift. I was making statements now. I was the one people were asking those questions to. And I was glad to share what I'd learned.
But the problem is that answers only get us so far. The best leaders in any industry are the ones asking the best questions, not offering the best answers.
Bill Gates and Steve Jobs are leaders in computing not because they know all the right answers (they have plenty of people smarter than them who work for them) but because they (and their staff) ask the right questions.
And then they listen for the answers. Hard listening. Listening that doesn't assume that they already had the answers before they asked the questions. Real listening that doesn't make a joke out of the fact that a question was asked in the first place. Asking good questions and genuinely listening is hard work.
It's what I want to get back to as I take on a new job. I want to ask more questions. I want to re-learn how to listen. I'm convinced that most people have no one in their lives who takes the time to actually listen to them. I want to grow into the kind of husband, father, friend, co-worker, and yeah, even "supervisor" who listens. It's the kind of leader I want to grow up to be.
But first I gotta' get back to the basics of sippy-cup assembly. My poor kids won't get any sleep otherwise.
This, as you might imagine, gets rather tiresome to the parents who are ready for a breather.
So as Zoe called out to me, I initially ignored her. When it became clear that she wasn't going to stop on her own, I started to storm up the stairs, dialing up my best "I'm tired of this nonsense" lecture, complete with stern tone.
When I got to her, she was standing up in her room crying. The top to the sippy cup had popped off. She was all wet. I was the one who hadn't put the top on right. Daddy's fault. And to make it worse, I had diagnosed the problem and declared the solution before I had asked any questions and done any listening.
I've been thinking that something like this has occurred somewhere along the way in my work.
I came in with tons of questions about how to do my job. How do you give a good talk? How do you run good meetings? What do you say when a student comes to you with an eating disorder? What do you do if they mention suicidal thoughts? What do you say when a student says to you, "I think I'm gay" for the first time out-loud to anyone?
Somewhere along the way, I began to get some answers to my questions.
Naturally this is a good thing, but as I began to get answers, I began to stop asking questions. Not entirely, but there was a definite, if subtle, shift. I was making statements now. I was the one people were asking those questions to. And I was glad to share what I'd learned.
But the problem is that answers only get us so far. The best leaders in any industry are the ones asking the best questions, not offering the best answers.
Bill Gates and Steve Jobs are leaders in computing not because they know all the right answers (they have plenty of people smarter than them who work for them) but because they (and their staff) ask the right questions.
And then they listen for the answers. Hard listening. Listening that doesn't assume that they already had the answers before they asked the questions. Real listening that doesn't make a joke out of the fact that a question was asked in the first place. Asking good questions and genuinely listening is hard work.
It's what I want to get back to as I take on a new job. I want to ask more questions. I want to re-learn how to listen. I'm convinced that most people have no one in their lives who takes the time to actually listen to them. I want to grow into the kind of husband, father, friend, co-worker, and yeah, even "supervisor" who listens. It's the kind of leader I want to grow up to be.
But first I gotta' get back to the basics of sippy-cup assembly. My poor kids won't get any sleep otherwise.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
On the Costs of Moving "Mission" to the Center
So this year both on campus and in my own life I've had a growing desire to focus on what it means that God's a missional God who invites us to be a part of his mission of mending broken relationships, first and foremost with himself.
On campus with InterVarsity, that means that we've been un-apologetically focused on calling our community to be a part of God's work in reconciling people to Himself.
Of course, any time you choose to focus on one thing in a Christian community, that means a) other values can get overlooked that shouldn't be and b) people leave who don't like that value.
And so, of course, I periodically want to re-examine and test the call. I'm fine to run people off if we're doing what we're supposed to be doing. We're not running a ministry popularity contest. We are called to serve people but we do not answer to people. But we don't want to run people off recreationally.
And there are other parts to the mission of God. We're 'leading' with this value, but we don't want to miss out on the breadth of God's kingdom. We need to continue to mature in the vision and in how it gets worked out.
So last week I was asking the Lord for confirmation, for clarity. Are we doing what we're supposed to be doing? We're seeing some incredible things on campus, seeing lives change literally right in front of our eyes. But there's still cost, still questions.
Then I read what was simply that mornings Scripture in Proverbs (chapter 24), as I've been working through Proverbs for the past several months:
If you falter in a time of trouble,
how small is your strength!
Rescue those being led away to death;
hold back those staggering toward slaughter.
If you say, "But we knew nothing about this,"
does not he who weighs the heart perceive it?
Does not he who guards your life know it?
Will he not repay everyone according to what they have done?
Yep, that about settles it.
On campus with InterVarsity, that means that we've been un-apologetically focused on calling our community to be a part of God's work in reconciling people to Himself.
Of course, any time you choose to focus on one thing in a Christian community, that means a) other values can get overlooked that shouldn't be and b) people leave who don't like that value.
And so, of course, I periodically want to re-examine and test the call. I'm fine to run people off if we're doing what we're supposed to be doing. We're not running a ministry popularity contest. We are called to serve people but we do not answer to people. But we don't want to run people off recreationally.
And there are other parts to the mission of God. We're 'leading' with this value, but we don't want to miss out on the breadth of God's kingdom. We need to continue to mature in the vision and in how it gets worked out.
So last week I was asking the Lord for confirmation, for clarity. Are we doing what we're supposed to be doing? We're seeing some incredible things on campus, seeing lives change literally right in front of our eyes. But there's still cost, still questions.
Then I read what was simply that mornings Scripture in Proverbs (chapter 24), as I've been working through Proverbs for the past several months:
If you falter in a time of trouble,
how small is your strength!
Rescue those being led away to death;
hold back those staggering toward slaughter.
If you say, "But we knew nothing about this,"
does not he who weighs the heart perceive it?
Does not he who guards your life know it?
Will he not repay everyone according to what they have done?
Yep, that about settles it.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Oscar v. Marketing in the Church
One of the interesting things about Urbana is that we get speakers from all over the world. This makes for some uncomfortable situations at times.
Not all of them are big fans of the United States, for example. Others aren't fans of capitalism, or at least how people in their country are on the short end of how Wal-Mart provides (always) extra low prices.
One speaker from Africa, Oscar Murio, made a passing comment about the need for Americans to give up on their marketing and branding techniques in their missions work. He proposed (not in so many words) that these were idols of our own strength, being brought into God's work, and thereby a distortion of the work that we were called to do.
This caused a buzz among some of us in InterVarsity staff-land. We're in a season as a national movement of using more and more organizational strategies from the business world in an attempt to do our work better.
I think that there are a handful of responses to Oscar's challenge:
1. He's right to call American missionaries out on exporting too much American culture without thoughtful engagement with local culture. This has historically been our worst atrocity, although I would offer that we're smarter and more thoughtful now than at any point in history.
2. He's also right that Americans often come in thinking that we know all the answers, have everything to offer and nothing to learn from indigenous peoples.
3. I would suggest that Proverbs commends us to pursue wisdom--and that there is wisdom to be found and put to use for God's work in many, many different places--everything from indigenous peoples to the world of secular business.
Sloppy organizational behavior is not more spiritual than good organizational behavior. Bad organizations do not honor the peoples they are called to serve, the missionaries they are sending, and the donors who are giving. Good and wise organizational thinking, used correctly, blesses all of the above.
4. Further, there are plenty of missionaries (none, of course, who would be reading this) who are not doing good work. They need to be equipped to do their work better and they need to be held accountable. Some of them need to be encouraged to seek different work.
Good organizational culture helps with genuine accountability, thorough equipping, and wise evaluation of people, context, and calling.
5. At the same time, there cannot be a one-to-one transmission of business/marketing practices to the church. Somewhere in there, there has to be a death and resurrection, a purging and a redemption.
I'm not always exactly sure what this looks like. But I would suggest that at the very least this means that we submit all plans and ideas and concepts to the Lord, walk with integrity, humility, and righteousness as we look for wisdom wherever it may be found and put it to use in the service of the Lord.
6. Lastly, as I've suggested before, there's a difference between using and trusting.
Psalm 19 says "some may trust in horses and some may trust in chariots, but we will trust in the name of our Lord." My guess is that David's army included horses and chariots. But these things, David says, are not his trust, they are not what provide victory.
God provides the victory. Most often he uses things like horses and chariots. In really unique situations, he commands his people to forgo the use of these things.
But most often God uses normal stuff--money, invitations, books, blog posts, even marketing strategies--to get his work done. And he calls us to use these things, and not to be used by them.
That's a holy tension, and it's hard to live in faithfully. But there's a holy and proper using that remembers that these things are the Lord's, and he is the one doing the blessing of them for his purposes.
Not all of them are big fans of the United States, for example. Others aren't fans of capitalism, or at least how people in their country are on the short end of how Wal-Mart provides (always) extra low prices.
One speaker from Africa, Oscar Murio, made a passing comment about the need for Americans to give up on their marketing and branding techniques in their missions work. He proposed (not in so many words) that these were idols of our own strength, being brought into God's work, and thereby a distortion of the work that we were called to do.
This caused a buzz among some of us in InterVarsity staff-land. We're in a season as a national movement of using more and more organizational strategies from the business world in an attempt to do our work better.
I think that there are a handful of responses to Oscar's challenge:
1. He's right to call American missionaries out on exporting too much American culture without thoughtful engagement with local culture. This has historically been our worst atrocity, although I would offer that we're smarter and more thoughtful now than at any point in history.
2. He's also right that Americans often come in thinking that we know all the answers, have everything to offer and nothing to learn from indigenous peoples.
3. I would suggest that Proverbs commends us to pursue wisdom--and that there is wisdom to be found and put to use for God's work in many, many different places--everything from indigenous peoples to the world of secular business.
Sloppy organizational behavior is not more spiritual than good organizational behavior. Bad organizations do not honor the peoples they are called to serve, the missionaries they are sending, and the donors who are giving. Good and wise organizational thinking, used correctly, blesses all of the above.
4. Further, there are plenty of missionaries (none, of course, who would be reading this) who are not doing good work. They need to be equipped to do their work better and they need to be held accountable. Some of them need to be encouraged to seek different work.
Good organizational culture helps with genuine accountability, thorough equipping, and wise evaluation of people, context, and calling.
5. At the same time, there cannot be a one-to-one transmission of business/marketing practices to the church. Somewhere in there, there has to be a death and resurrection, a purging and a redemption.
I'm not always exactly sure what this looks like. But I would suggest that at the very least this means that we submit all plans and ideas and concepts to the Lord, walk with integrity, humility, and righteousness as we look for wisdom wherever it may be found and put it to use in the service of the Lord.
6. Lastly, as I've suggested before, there's a difference between using and trusting.
Psalm 19 says "some may trust in horses and some may trust in chariots, but we will trust in the name of our Lord." My guess is that David's army included horses and chariots. But these things, David says, are not his trust, they are not what provide victory.
God provides the victory. Most often he uses things like horses and chariots. In really unique situations, he commands his people to forgo the use of these things.
But most often God uses normal stuff--money, invitations, books, blog posts, even marketing strategies--to get his work done. And he calls us to use these things, and not to be used by them.
That's a holy tension, and it's hard to live in faithfully. But there's a holy and proper using that remembers that these things are the Lord's, and he is the one doing the blessing of them for his purposes.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Heading North to Florida: How Direction Trumps Intentions
So when the same issue, topic, or question comes up within a few days of each other, I try to pay attention to what the Lord might be saying to me. Here's what's been rolling around in my head from this past week.
Friday night we had some great old friends over for dinner. One of them has been working in the corporate world for the past fifteen years and he's decided to go back to school on the fly and get his MBA.
He talked about where the breakdown happened in organizations, both in his experiences in the corporate world and as a multi-term elder and leader in his church.
"There's plenty of strategy out there," he said, "the problem is that there's this huge gap between the ideas being presented and the actual implementation of them. Executives think that if they stand up and say 'we're doing this next quarter' it actually happens. In reality, there's often a huge breakdown between the strategy and the tactics."
Hmmm, guilty as charged here. How many times have I had a vision or strategy that broke down at the level of implementation? More times than I care to remember.
Then just the other day I was listening to Andy Stanley's leadership podcast--something I commend to all you leader-types out there to download (it's free on Itunes).
He was talking about organizational break-down as well. And his pithy mantra for the week: intention is always trumped by direction.
Say you want to go to Florida. You tell all your neighbors, pack the car, and book the hotel room, but then you get on the highway from Chapel Hill and go due North. You're never going to get there. No matter how good your intentions, your processes aren't going to move you along to the desired destination.
In our marriages or finances or careers, we often have desired outcomes, intentions that we hope for. But we often have systems or ways of operating or machinations that push us in completely different directions.
So with our organizations, departments, classrooms or offices--wherever we have influence. It's important to know where you want to go, but then you have to be willing to do an honest assessment: is what I'm doing now going to help or hinder my progress towards my desired outcomes?
What path am I actually on? Does what we say we want to be about match up and align with how we conduct our business/ministry/marriage/parenting on a day-to-day basis, or are they totally separate things, completely out of alignment?
Good stuff for me to think about as we head into a new school year.
Friday night we had some great old friends over for dinner. One of them has been working in the corporate world for the past fifteen years and he's decided to go back to school on the fly and get his MBA.
He talked about where the breakdown happened in organizations, both in his experiences in the corporate world and as a multi-term elder and leader in his church.
"There's plenty of strategy out there," he said, "the problem is that there's this huge gap between the ideas being presented and the actual implementation of them. Executives think that if they stand up and say 'we're doing this next quarter' it actually happens. In reality, there's often a huge breakdown between the strategy and the tactics."
Hmmm, guilty as charged here. How many times have I had a vision or strategy that broke down at the level of implementation? More times than I care to remember.
Then just the other day I was listening to Andy Stanley's leadership podcast--something I commend to all you leader-types out there to download (it's free on Itunes).
He was talking about organizational break-down as well. And his pithy mantra for the week: intention is always trumped by direction.
Say you want to go to Florida. You tell all your neighbors, pack the car, and book the hotel room, but then you get on the highway from Chapel Hill and go due North. You're never going to get there. No matter how good your intentions, your processes aren't going to move you along to the desired destination.
In our marriages or finances or careers, we often have desired outcomes, intentions that we hope for. But we often have systems or ways of operating or machinations that push us in completely different directions.
So with our organizations, departments, classrooms or offices--wherever we have influence. It's important to know where you want to go, but then you have to be willing to do an honest assessment: is what I'm doing now going to help or hinder my progress towards my desired outcomes?
What path am I actually on? Does what we say we want to be about match up and align with how we conduct our business/ministry/marriage/parenting on a day-to-day basis, or are they totally separate things, completely out of alignment?
Good stuff for me to think about as we head into a new school year.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Control-Freaks-Anon & the Embrace of Mystery
"Hi, my name is Alex, and I'm a control freak."
"Hi, Alex."
So if you couple control-freak tendencies with leadership gifts, you can get some serious problems.
Add in a few books on leadership and management, and then add "spiritual" of "Godly" to either of those words, and it can get even more problematic. I'm not only getting more competent at being a control freak, I can also justify it by making it sound spiritual.
So as an aid to my repentance, the Lord gave me a gift the other day: Eugene Peterson's introduction to the book of Romans in my study Bible. As Peterson outlines Paul's themes in Romans, he suggests this one that has resonated in my soul: "his extravagant embrace of mystery."
Peterson goes on:
"Mystery, for Paul, is not what is left over after we have done our best to reason things out on our own. No, it is inherent in the very nature of who God is and how he works...
The mystery that Paul embraces is not the mystery of darkness that must be dispelled, but the mystery of light that may be entered.
God and his operations cannot be reduced to what we are capable of explaining and then reproducing. It takes considerable humility to embrace this mystery, for in the presence of mystery we are not in a position to control anything, predict outcomes, manage people, or pose as authorities."
The emphasis is mine, not Eugene's. It strikes to the heart of God's invitation to me to repent.
I can either submit to the mystery and enter into the light with hands open and willing to receive whatever the Lord has for me or I can continue to live under the illusion that I can manage outcomes and make things happen. Eventually the road forks and I cannot continue to try to do both.
The past couple of days I have been given a great gift: I have delighted to take a deep breath and submit to the mystery of God. I have found this to be extremely relieving and refreshing, which is surprising to me given how deeply ingrained my control freak nature is.
I'm praying that walking into the glad mystery of the light might be a disciplined part of my inner-life...otherwise, it'll be back to Control-Freaks-Anonymous for me.
"Hi, Alex."
So if you couple control-freak tendencies with leadership gifts, you can get some serious problems.
Add in a few books on leadership and management, and then add "spiritual" of "Godly" to either of those words, and it can get even more problematic. I'm not only getting more competent at being a control freak, I can also justify it by making it sound spiritual.
So as an aid to my repentance, the Lord gave me a gift the other day: Eugene Peterson's introduction to the book of Romans in my study Bible. As Peterson outlines Paul's themes in Romans, he suggests this one that has resonated in my soul: "his extravagant embrace of mystery."
Peterson goes on:
"Mystery, for Paul, is not what is left over after we have done our best to reason things out on our own. No, it is inherent in the very nature of who God is and how he works...
The mystery that Paul embraces is not the mystery of darkness that must be dispelled, but the mystery of light that may be entered.
God and his operations cannot be reduced to what we are capable of explaining and then reproducing. It takes considerable humility to embrace this mystery, for in the presence of mystery we are not in a position to control anything, predict outcomes, manage people, or pose as authorities."
The emphasis is mine, not Eugene's. It strikes to the heart of God's invitation to me to repent.
I can either submit to the mystery and enter into the light with hands open and willing to receive whatever the Lord has for me or I can continue to live under the illusion that I can manage outcomes and make things happen. Eventually the road forks and I cannot continue to try to do both.
The past couple of days I have been given a great gift: I have delighted to take a deep breath and submit to the mystery of God. I have found this to be extremely relieving and refreshing, which is surprising to me given how deeply ingrained my control freak nature is.
I'm praying that walking into the glad mystery of the light might be a disciplined part of my inner-life...otherwise, it'll be back to Control-Freaks-Anonymous for me.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
New York in August v. Sticking with the Diet
About a month ago I got an invite to do a pretty sweet speaking/consulting gig. It was a quick trip, overnight, to New York. The only catch was that it was in mid-August. August for a campus minister is like December in retail. You buckle down, work your butt off, and try to enjoy the ride.
But as I looked at the exact dates, the invitation fell right in a pleasant window of what looks right now to be wide open space. Nothing on the calendar. As I talked it over with a couple of friends and my boss, it seemed like it might be do-able. I was pretty geeked out about it.
Then I was listening to a sermon podcast where the pastor was prodding us to ask the question: "in light of my present responsibilities, my past experiences, and my future hopes and dreams, is this a wise use of my time?"
He argued that many things we choose to do aren't sinful, they're just not wise. He was calling us to look past the simple "there's nothing wrong with this decision" to think more deeply about the ramifications of our decisions.
In the course of the sermon he talked about the areas of our lives where small deposits over a long period of time are crucial and non-recoverable.
Exercise is one example. If we exercise just 30 minutes a couple days a week, we're healthier people. But you can't make up for the lost time by trying to make up for eight months of non-exercise in one sitting. I've tried. It hurts.
Going to church, same thing. Dieting, same thing. Personal time in prayer and Scripture study, same thing. Miss one day at church, cheat on the diet one time, skip out on one day in personal prayer, no big consequence. But make it a habit, and you fall away from community, from health, and from God.
The speaker wrapped up by talking about small deposits we have to make with our family. He's a tremendous communicator, head of a large church, and has published several books. He gets invites to speak all over the place. And he's got three kids at 12, 8, & 6.
"Maybe some day," he said, "when my kids are grown and out the door, I'll just travel around and take every speaking gig I can. But for right now, my assistant and I just look at each other and we say, 'just say no!'"
"Because my future hopes and dreams include having healthy adult relationships with my kids. And that means saying no to other things so that I might be available to make these small, incremental, regular deposits of time."
I turned down the gig. I desire to make my default posture towards all the cool stuff that might come my way towards a firm "no" unless I get a clear sense that I should make an exception.
I've got a five, three, and 20-month-old (not to mention a wonderful wife) who need to know that they are more important. I desire to faithfully make small, regular deposits of time, to turn towards them and not towards other stuff, even good stuff, even stuff that feels like it could make an impact for the gospel.
I've got a prior engagement.
But as I looked at the exact dates, the invitation fell right in a pleasant window of what looks right now to be wide open space. Nothing on the calendar. As I talked it over with a couple of friends and my boss, it seemed like it might be do-able. I was pretty geeked out about it.
Then I was listening to a sermon podcast where the pastor was prodding us to ask the question: "in light of my present responsibilities, my past experiences, and my future hopes and dreams, is this a wise use of my time?"
He argued that many things we choose to do aren't sinful, they're just not wise. He was calling us to look past the simple "there's nothing wrong with this decision" to think more deeply about the ramifications of our decisions.
In the course of the sermon he talked about the areas of our lives where small deposits over a long period of time are crucial and non-recoverable.
Exercise is one example. If we exercise just 30 minutes a couple days a week, we're healthier people. But you can't make up for the lost time by trying to make up for eight months of non-exercise in one sitting. I've tried. It hurts.
Going to church, same thing. Dieting, same thing. Personal time in prayer and Scripture study, same thing. Miss one day at church, cheat on the diet one time, skip out on one day in personal prayer, no big consequence. But make it a habit, and you fall away from community, from health, and from God.
The speaker wrapped up by talking about small deposits we have to make with our family. He's a tremendous communicator, head of a large church, and has published several books. He gets invites to speak all over the place. And he's got three kids at 12, 8, & 6.
"Maybe some day," he said, "when my kids are grown and out the door, I'll just travel around and take every speaking gig I can. But for right now, my assistant and I just look at each other and we say, 'just say no!'"
"Because my future hopes and dreams include having healthy adult relationships with my kids. And that means saying no to other things so that I might be available to make these small, incremental, regular deposits of time."
I turned down the gig. I desire to make my default posture towards all the cool stuff that might come my way towards a firm "no" unless I get a clear sense that I should make an exception.
I've got a five, three, and 20-month-old (not to mention a wonderful wife) who need to know that they are more important. I desire to faithfully make small, regular deposits of time, to turn towards them and not towards other stuff, even good stuff, even stuff that feels like it could make an impact for the gospel.
I've got a prior engagement.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Purity is to Intimacy as Integrity is to...
If purity paves the path for intimacy, then when it comes to leadership, integrity paves the path for true spiritual authority.
Integrity is consistency, it's being fully integrated. It's lining up our words and our lives. It's practicing what we preach. It is embodying and exemplifying the gospel.
Integrity is taking principles and truths and putting flesh on them by how we drive on the highway, talk about the people around us, take exams, treat the check-out lady at the grocery store.
Leadership and authority can be faked apart from integrity. But seldom is it faked for long.
When it comes to leadership, integrity paves the path for spiritual authority.
Integrity is consistency, it's being fully integrated. It's lining up our words and our lives. It's practicing what we preach. It is embodying and exemplifying the gospel.
Integrity is taking principles and truths and putting flesh on them by how we drive on the highway, talk about the people around us, take exams, treat the check-out lady at the grocery store.
Leadership and authority can be faked apart from integrity. But seldom is it faked for long.
When it comes to leadership, integrity paves the path for spiritual authority.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Leaders and Action
As spiritual as that sounds, that is a false spirituality.
That view does not take seriously the call from Romans 12:8 that if we have a leadership gift we are to lead with all diligence. To lead with diligence of course includes and means being intentional about prayer and seeking the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind and strength and committing to him all the work that he’s given us to do.
But it also means being thoughtful and intentional and strategic and doing the absolute best work you can possibly do and getting the absolute best training you can possibly. The work that God has given us to do is too important to do anything less. Prayer and training are not mutually exclusive.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
A Leaders' Bias for Action
The important thing that shows us Moses’ natural leadership gift is not just that Moses notices and it’s not just that he’s upset about it, as important as those steps are. But what makes Moses a leader is that Moses takes action.
Again, it's the wrong action and we'll talk more about that later. But right now what I want to do is mark this important leadership principle here that I want you to consider: leaders have a bias towards action.
Here's one thing that's important about this bias for action: action separates leaders from critics.
Again, it's the wrong action and we'll talk more about that later.
Here's one thing that's important about this bias for action: action separates leaders from critics.
Leaders and critics both share the ability to diagnose a problem and to be upset about it.
I have to remind myself all the time that we need critics operating in humility and love and grace and the power of the Holy Spirit to help shape our communities and point out where we need to grow
You’re in this room this morning because God has called you to lead next year and that means that you’re called to action
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Rain
One of the interesting things about the book of Nehemiah is that it's an Old Testament book about the nation of Israel turning back to God via the work of re-building the wall around the city of Jerusalem. The wall had been burned out and knocked down by the invading hordes as a result of the Israelites turning away from God.
Here's the trick: the Israelites hope and trust was always supposed to remain in God, not the wall. But re-building the wall was nevertheless the work that God called them to do. So the people were doing a work that God invited them to do that could nevertheless be their undoing in terms of keeping the main thing the main thing.
Enter New Student Welcome.
It rained last night on our picnic. The first rain we've had in what feels like months. The first time it's rained on the picnic in something like a decade. We squeezed in a little bit of the program and tried to get people fed and connected to their small group. But it felt rushed and a little frantic. Not exactly the welcoming, polished, creative, engaging event that I had hoped it would be. It's hard to be polished when you're running for cover.
I believe that I'm called to do New Student Welcome events. The picnic is a part of me being faithful to build this wall. But this morning as I was cleaning out Kool-Aid-sticky drink coolers, I reflected on my temptation to put my trust on the events to do God's work rather than on God to do God's work.
Generally speaking, God uses the picnic as a primary entry point for us to connect with new students. Just like generally speaking, God uses walls around cities to help protect his people. But every so often, the walls aren't there or the picnic gets rained out. In times such as these we are forced to consider where we've placed our trust. Is it the wall? Or the picnic? Or is it God and his Spirit who are bound by neither of these?
I'm fighting today to believe and trust in the latter.
A number of times in the Old Testament God says the Israelites have too many people in the army for the battle he's called them to fight. God wants to prove that he's the one who delivers his people, the one who wins battles, the one who is the Primary Actor. "The battle belongs to the Lord" declares the Psalmist again and again.
I pray that a month from now I'll be declaring the same thing with fresh confidence and enthusiasm.
Here's the trick: the Israelites hope and trust was always supposed to remain in God, not the wall. But re-building the wall was nevertheless the work that God called them to do. So the people were doing a work that God invited them to do that could nevertheless be their undoing in terms of keeping the main thing the main thing.
Enter New Student Welcome.
It rained last night on our picnic. The first rain we've had in what feels like months. The first time it's rained on the picnic in something like a decade. We squeezed in a little bit of the program and tried to get people fed and connected to their small group. But it felt rushed and a little frantic. Not exactly the welcoming, polished, creative, engaging event that I had hoped it would be. It's hard to be polished when you're running for cover.
I believe that I'm called to do New Student Welcome events. The picnic is a part of me being faithful to build this wall. But this morning as I was cleaning out Kool-Aid-sticky drink coolers, I reflected on my temptation to put my trust on the events to do God's work rather than on God to do God's work.
Generally speaking, God uses the picnic as a primary entry point for us to connect with new students. Just like generally speaking, God uses walls around cities to help protect his people. But every so often, the walls aren't there or the picnic gets rained out. In times such as these we are forced to consider where we've placed our trust. Is it the wall? Or the picnic? Or is it God and his Spirit who are bound by neither of these?
I'm fighting today to believe and trust in the latter.
A number of times in the Old Testament God says the Israelites have too many people in the army for the battle he's called them to fight. God wants to prove that he's the one who delivers his people, the one who wins battles, the one who is the Primary Actor. "The battle belongs to the Lord" declares the Psalmist again and again.
I pray that a month from now I'll be declaring the same thing with fresh confidence and enthusiasm.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Servant Leadership
[This is an excerpt from a talk that I gave at Rockbridge two weeks ago entitled "Leader as Servant"]
People will often say that they like Jesus but dislike Christians or Christianity. They look at passages like the one we just looked at [Jesus washing the disciples feet in John 13] and they say, "Jesus is such a great teacher! And so very nice!"
I want to contend that Jesus is, indeed, always a servant leader. But that doesn't always look like what we want it to look like.Mark 10:17-22
17 As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. "Good teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?"
18 "Why do you call me good?" Jesus answered. "No one is good—except God alone. 19 You know the commandments: 'You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, you shall not defraud, honor your father and mother.'"
20 "Teacher," he declared, "all these I have kept since I was a boy."
21 Jesus looked at him and loved him. "One thing you lack," he said. "Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me."
22 At this the man's face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.
This is servant leadership—to invite this man to be freed from the love of money that would absolutely destroy his soul is absolutely loving service: Servant leadership is not people pleasing.
People like Jesus because they think that he’s nice, but here’s the deal: Jesus is GOOD, he is not NICE. Those are two very different terms.
Some of you are truth speakers—you are hard-core black and white, you know right and wrong from a mile away and you’re not afraid to say what you think or see. Truth speakers, you do need to grow and learn gentleness and love and patience and grace. I hope that the abuses or the wrong-uses of truth speaking are fairly well-known and recorded throughout history: tyranny, loveless-ness, overly-aggressive, angry, controlling, etc. Truth-speakers, you need to pay attention to those stories, to tread cautiously with your passions and your mouths!
But the majority of us are conflict-avoidant, people-pleasers, overly-passive, apathetic or some dizzying combination of all of the above. And the abuses of those ways of relating are not nearly as well documented but they are just as real and our world bears the scars just as much.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The 99%
Each morning at Rockbridge we gathered together the two leadership tracks (small group leader's training track and the Coordinating Team track--these are the core group of 4-8 leaders that sets vision and goals for each year) for teaching on Biblical leadership.
This year's "Leadership Summit" we walked through the Biblical identity of a leader: Leader as Child, Leader as Disciple, Leader as Servant.
The first morning, however, Joe Ho, IV Area Director for Shenandoah in western Virginia set up the week, exhorting us to consider seriously that understanding our identity is critical to genuine Biblical leadership. Here's a snippet of his excellent talk:
"In our culture we under-value the concept of identity and character because we vastly over-value decision-making. We think that leadership is all about decision-making. It's not. 99% of what we do every day is not about conscious decision making. We simply act. And we act out of who we are, out of character and identity. And so if we truly want to be women and men of impact who lead others with integrity, courage, and faithfulness, we have to be different types of people, not just better decision makers."
We got a little push-back from some folks in small groups who thought this was over-stated, but is it?
This year's "Leadership Summit" we walked through the Biblical identity of a leader: Leader as Child, Leader as Disciple, Leader as Servant.
The first morning, however, Joe Ho, IV Area Director for Shenandoah in western Virginia set up the week, exhorting us to consider seriously that understanding our identity is critical to genuine Biblical leadership. Here's a snippet of his excellent talk:
"In our culture we under-value the concept of identity and character because we vastly over-value decision-making. We think that leadership is all about decision-making. It's not. 99% of what we do every day is not about conscious decision making. We simply act. And we act out of who we are, out of character and identity. And so if we truly want to be women and men of impact who lead others with integrity, courage, and faithfulness, we have to be different types of people, not just better decision makers."
We got a little push-back from some folks in small groups who thought this was over-stated, but is it?
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