Woe Now! 3 Questions for Leaders

I’m a lover of the future. Some live for tradition; my heart beats for the what-ifs and what’s-to-comes in life. So when I found myself using all my mental strength to analyze my future status of my current positions of leadership, I thought it was just part of my personality. Then God interrupted, via Nancy Ortberg.

Ortberg’s book, Looking for God, closes with a chapter on recognizing the sins we consider minor, that God certainly does not:

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Matthew 23:25.

Ortberg says, “At least [Jesus] could have accused them of some A-list sins. You know, the ones I could never commit…I could convince myself that Jesus’ criticism of the Pharisees had absolutely nothing to do with me.” I nod my head along as I read, my inner Pharisee taking over, preferring to look away—or at others—whenever a verse starts with “woe.” Yet when Ortberg points out how close to home this verse should hit, how well acquainted she is with greed and self-indulgence, I was taken. Perhaps the landscape of my heart needed a good scrubbing.

Here are three questions I asked myself about the relevance of this “Woe”:

1. Am I playing the actress in any sphere of my life?
The Greek word for hypocrite comes from the same word we use for actor. The nature of acting requires manipulating emotions, wearing masks, and playing roles. It is difficult for me to know when I am actually putting myself aside to get the job done, or when I’m putting on my prettiest spiritual mask to go and lead. Oftentimes, the proof is in the stability of my attitude over time. When I flip from saint to storm cloud as I walk through my front door, I pause. This is not leading like Jesus, because I’m not living with integrity.

2. What am I greedy about?
Well, says my inner Miss Pharisee, here’s one I can easily check off the list. Greed has never been a problem for me…if this verse is referring to material things. But another look at the definition for greed gives me pause. The synonyms of greed include grasping, selfish, insatiable, covetous, and anxious. With an expanded understanding of Jesus’ words, I’m convicted of my grasping and insatiable need for praise or promoting my own agenda for selfish gain. I recognize that I covet the success of others or mask my anxiety about the future by calling it “self-analysis.”

3. Am I self-indulgent?
Perhaps my mental gymnastics about the future are better termed self-indulgence—an interior playground that lacks restraint. My thought life often skews in this direction, a little place in my mind reserved for my private pity parties and hissy fits, places where I allow myself to remain childish in all the wrong ways.

I spoke with a mother from my son’s school yesterday. We had never met, but needed to pull together some plans for an upcoming event. I was grumpy and complained to her about “children hanging all over me all day.” When I hung up, I found myself pausing. Perhaps it was the Holy Spirit who admonished me: What if this woman, this stranger, struggled with infertility, desired a house full of children, and only had one. How do you think she would feel in this conversation? I realized what an incredible lack of self-restraint I exhibit. Yes, authenticity is a good thing. But so is a humble awareness of my own influence upon others. There are times for airing one’s heart and receiving encouragement. But there are also times to show restraint.

Reversing The Woe
Ortberg concludes her thoughts on Jesus’ words: “whenever I sense the inside and outside don’t match, I know it’s time to dive deep into my heart and line up its darkness with the glorious nature of God.” Like a sword through the soul, God’s correction kills off my inner Pharisee and creates room for real change.

The opposite of greed is generosity. The opposite of self-indulgence is self-control, that all-important fruit of the Spirit’s work. In words and in thoughts, I want to be one who “cleans the inside of the cup,” invites God into my private moments, and allows him to bring the correction I need.

So, how about you: Have you recognized your own inner Pharisee?

When Ideology Trumps Theology

I’m a glutton for punishment. I could have decided to slouch along the sidelines of ministry and watch the many controversies within the church zip past. Perhaps peeking over the pew on occasion and catching a slight breeze off the mini-tornadoes of debate that exist under the umbrella that is American Evangelicalism.

Public prayer, the roles of women, the role of the Holy Spirit, capital punishment, responses to poverty, HIV/AIDS, divorce, adult or infant baptism, health or wealth . . . . . .

But you see I’m optimistic to a fault so I have decided to throw myself into a few of the storms. Sort of like that completely unrealistic heifer in the movie “Twister.” I decided to ride the windy tumult on occasion. Most recently, I became a Christian environmentalist.

As my position on environmental stewardship (also known as Creation Care) has become more public I’ve been reminded afresh of a the very painful way many of us in faith communities go about making decisions. I’m convinced perhaps now more than ever that those of us in the church need to put grace and peace before our own agendas. We need to out God’s agenda first.

“Well, duh,” you might say. This is nothing new. But since the Garden we have put our own agendas before God’s agenda. It seems to be the way of humankind. Since we’ve not managed to solve this issue yet I believe the conversation bears repeating for the church today. I will use Christian environmentalism as a little test case here.

There are both fans and skeptics involved in the debate over how much energy and resources Christians should place on caring for Creation. Should we care about the issue at all? Is there room in the Kingdom of God for conversations about sustainability, land and water use, resource management, and stewardship of the land?

These are just a few of the current arguments. Every debate inside Christendom has its respective list of questions, fans, and skeptics. Because a Christian response to environmentalism is a fierce debate today, this issue can shed new light on how we engage with ideas and thoughts in our culture today. For example:

When I speak about Creation Care I receive two basic replies. The first is an overflowing sigh of thanksgiving that seems to emanate from the depths of a person’s gut. “Thank you Jesus that we are finally doing something about this.” People say. “I am so happy we are finally taking this conversation into the church.” They smile.

The other response often goes like this. “Hmmm, isn’t this a liberal agenda item?” “Are you saying that you think Obama is right?” “Isn’t this an issue for Democrats?”

These are fair questions and this is not to mock any of them. Where I struggle is with the fact that rarely does someone say to me “is this biblical?”

“Is this biblical” is the question we should be asking in every debate, on both sides. In a subject area that is rife with pantheists and a real concern that worship of God may be diverted from Creator to Creation, “is this biblical” is an essential question. But sadly I receive the biblical query in small numbers compared to those who are angry with our current President or what they perceive to be a liberal political agenda.

There is a leadership lesson here for the church that brings me to reflect on my own responses to issues. How often do I let my own ideologies drive my theology? I am usually tempted to consider first how a particular issue or response fits into my own ideological framework rather than asking the simple question, “well, is it biblical?” And if so, then how do I adjust my life accordingly (whether I want to or not).

My desire to be a good steward of the earth comes from Scripture. Sure, people can lump the passions of “green” folks like me into whatever camp they want. But to honor the conversation I do my best to let Scripture drive my agenda. This principle applies to other dicey debates as well.

If we let theology drive our ideology we open ourselves up to the horrifying yet humble possibility that we might be wrong. This puts us in a place where the Holy Spirit can move in our lives and can shape our very souls. Eugene Peterson (and I am paraphrasing here) once remarked that the moment we declare we know it all is the moment that we’ve told the Holy Spirit to take a hike.

To claim we know it all and then to declare a particular political or social camp captures that viewpoint is to place the wisdom that belongs to God alone into the hands of sinful humanity. We enter dangerous territory when we ask ideological questions before theological questions, especially in the church.

Whether environmentalism, immigration reform or economic recovery, we do the Kingdom of God justice when we venture out bravely and search first for a theological position rather than hunker down smugly behind our ideologies. This can leave us exposed, caught in the cross-fires, but strangely free to live a bit more like Jesus, who came to free us from the very ideologies of his own day, and our days as well.

Leadership and Betrayal

This month I took our four-year-old daughter for her annual checkup. She was scheduled to get two shots that day. I came prepared. My purse was stuffed with lollipops, magic tricks and a whole host of distractions.

The visit went well. At first. The doctor applauded her efforts to write her name and jump on one foot. She pronounced her a healthy, vibrant little girl. I was pleased.

Then came the nurse, quick on her feet. Before I could unwrap the lollipop that first shot was in her arm. A loud shriek resounded from every wall in that office. Then came the next shot. I wrapped my daughter in a hug and assured her it would be OK. But when our eyes met, I could see that “OK” was not what she was thinking. Refusing the lollipop (at first), she looked at me with eyes that said, “How could you?” It was the look of betrayal.

When pain is expected, it is hard enough. But when pain is unexpected, as in betrayal, it is worse. Even a strawberry lollipop cannot mend what has been torn.

Once, while serving a congregation with limited space for a growing ministry, I had the bright idea to swap furniture in one room to free up space for another. This would impact a couple of regular Sunday School classes, but it seemed perfect to me. I could think of a number of reasons why the class I was “taking from” would be better off for it. Another staff member and I made the changes to the rooms and we were quite pleased with ourselves when the project was over. Everything looked just as we had planned. I knew the classes would love it.

But when I arrived at church the following Sunday, I didn’t “feel the love.” There was that look again, betrayal. Change is more painful when it is unexpected.

I have learned as a parent and as a pastor that surprises are rarely fun for those being surprised, especially when the surprise does not involve a birthday cake and candles. My bright ideas do not feel so bright when I’ve acted without consultation.

Most of you reading this probably knew exactly where this train was headed the minute you began reading. Doesn’t every pastor know never to move furniture without the approval of a committee (or two)? It may seem silly to us, but not to those affected.

Many in our congregations are coming head-to-head with betrayal every day. They feel betrayed by an employer who lays them off after years of service. They feel betrayed by children who are hurting their families. They feel betrayed by a city that has not done enough to stop crime and reduce poverty. They feel betrayed by a church that doesn’t look, sound or feel like it used to. Most of these things are far beyond our control as pastors. But they are very much a part of the stories of our parishioners.

As leaders, it is important to examine the potential for our adding to this sense of betrayal before we act. Some pain is inevitable in our lives and in our organizations. How can we create systems that allow people to have a voice in the changes that affect them? “Voice” may not mean approval or permission. Just like a vaccination at four, some things are required of our churches in order to grow. “Voice” may simply be the conversation held in advance that warns something painful is on the way. Like the one I will to have at next year’s annual checkup.

When Jesus spoke of his impending death, he did not ask the disciples how they felt about it. He certainly didn’t take a vote. He did, however, share with them over and over again where his ministry was leading. He invited their constant participation as the journey to the cross advanced. They didn’t understand his words. Yet he continued to offer them metaphors, parables and stories. It was only after the stinging pain of death that his words became clear to them.

And, ultimately, the disciples did not experience Jesus’ death as betrayal but as a promise fulfilled.

Some 'Thou Shalts' From Synergy

When I was a freshman at Calvin College (closer to 20 years ago than I like to think about) I got mono just before the start of the January interim. Being the conscientious (if babyish) 18-year-old, I asked my dad to call the professor and see if there was anything I could do so I didn’t have to drop the “Food and Culture” class I was supposed to take.

The professor, Dr. Michelle Loyd-Paige, allowed me to read some books and write a paper and still eek out a “pass” in the class. I’d always appreciated that measure of grace she extended me.

In this morning’s plenary session at the Synergy Conference in Orlando, I learned a whole bunch of new reasons to appreciate for my almost-professor.

Among the wonderful insights and challenges Dr. Loyd-Paige shared with us, here is a list of her “Thou Shalts” when it comes to following a calling as a woman. I love these (and these are direct “quotes” from her PowerPoint):

Among the wonderful insights and challenges Dr. Loyd-Paige shared with us, here is a list of her “Thou Shalts” when it comes to following a calling as a woman. I love these (and these are direct “quotes” from her PowerPoint):

Thou Shalt….
-Not compromise femininity or ethnicity for sake of leadership role
-Not be intimidated by those who question your ability to lead
-Be wise in establishing personal relationships
-Not to a superwoman
-Be a stista to your sister in ministry
-Welcome blessed alliances
-Be assertive, firm and fair
-Not oppress others
-Be a role model
-Not take yourself too seriously.

Of course, she expounded on each point. But I love the way these stand alone in easy-to-remember morsels (Note: the “blessed alliance” is Synergy-speak for us working along with our brothers in Christ). I think we’d all do well to print these up and tack them above our workspaces.

I wonder what sorts of “Thou Shalts” others have come up with in life as you’ve tried to live out your callings. Anything you’d add (or subtract) to this list? How might any of these help you live out your calling?

A Woman's Voice

Voice. It’s one of our favorite buzz words.

Unique, fresh, distinct, moving, authentic, powerful, smart. All words used to describe the kinds of voices to which we are drawn—the voices who end up stacked on our nightstands and streaming through our iPods. GFL was created by and for leaders whose pulse quicken at the actualization of leaders who find and use their (unique, fresh, distinct, moving, authentic, powerfully smart) voices to impact the world for Christ.

My resounding Amen to that statement, however, has become complicated by an increasing awareness of how gender affects the voices we—both men and women—are willing to cuddle up with late at night or sweat to for miles on the treadmill. Do our choices reflect an attachment of gender-based value to the voice or do men and women simply filter voices differently because we are made differently? Genetic hard-wiring compounded by church background, family history and cultural influence have left me scratching my head: Is it possible to listen well despite our gender differences? And is it more difficult for a man to listen well to a woman?

Now, obviously, some voices are for women by women; just like others are for men by men. Books, for example, whose titles and jacket designs are skewed so much in one chromosomal direction that the opposite sex was never intended to throw them a second glance. But what about voices who speak of the gender-neutral things of God – things like spiritual formation, leadership, the character of God or living a life of faith? Are our listening ears held hostage by a mixture of cultural conditioning and DNA that causes us to both choose and listen selectively?

For centuries, women have sat under male teachers, leaders and pastors with little thought of the fact that they are, well, men. But for the first real cultural period in modern history, women’s voices are being touted both more frequently and in venues where their reverberations have scarcely been heard before. Nowhere is this more true than in the Church. And while some will openly oppose the female voice for theological reasons (and others embrace it for the same reason), I would argue that the majority of us, men in particular, have a response that’s more subliminal, undefined —a subconscious squirming when the voice we’re listening to is not the one we’ve been conditioned to hear, and it’s talking about things we’ve not been conditioned to hear it talk about.

When I’ve questioned my male counterparts on the subject, a few have dismissed it as a non-issue, but several—men full of godly character and integrity—have admitted their difficulty with hearing the feminine voice. In one conversation, a pastor actually blurted out, “I mean, come on. What man can really listen to a woman?”

They cited several reasons:

Tone: They literally hear a woman’s voice differently. High-pitched, sing-songy, whiny, shrill and forced are adjectives used to describe it.

Words: The stories women share and the words we use to share them are not as universal. Women emote. Women connect. Women cry. Women feminize. A story about motherhood, for example, often falls short to resonate. The barrier seems to be broken down, however, when a woman can muster up a little testosterone and sound more like a man.

Authority: The women’s movement has devalued male leadership, leaving them to feel emasculated (a phenomenon John Eldridge and others have well documented). Men instinctually respond by shutting out the feminine voice.

Now, before you come through your screen at me or at them, hear me on this: I’m not saying any of these instincts are right. And I don’t think the men I’ve spoken to are either. But to acknowledge the reality of the struggle—gut-level resistance warring against the undeniable truth of God’s image bearers as equally male and female —is worth the hard conversation. It forces us to stop and ask ourselves if we truly value the voices we listen to—both because of and despite of their gender—or if we miss God-honoring wisdom because we can’t see past the gender gap.

As leaders, engaging the reality of the tension makes us more aware of who we’re communicating to and how we’re communicating. It expands our perspective and helps us to see life through another’s lens. And ultimately, it strengthens our call, both male and female, to offer our unique voices as a pleasing and honorable sound to the One by whom they were created.