Don’t get married

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I’m continuing my series on leadership-as-bull-riding, drawing on a parallel investment-as-bull-riding idea articulated by Vineer Bhansali1. This quote is my springboard:

Plan now for the dismount: Finally, it is important to not get “married” to the bull. In bull-riding, once the eight seconds are up, there is no glory in staying on the bull… There will be other bulls to ride.  If nothing else, one should have an “exit strategy” in mind before mounting the bull.

There are a number of reasons why a bull rider might become affixed to a bull. Some are by choice, some are because of the challenge of timing your exit, and some are unintentional. For instance, a rider secures his stronger hand to the bull with rope based on the assumption that he can release it at his choosing rather than the bull’s. But according to Google, 1 in 20 bull-riding accidents result from the rider’s hand getting “hung up” in the bull rope. He simply can’t let go. 

Likewise, it’s very easy for leaders to become inseparable from a role, an organization or their initiatives, because of the depth of their investment. In my experience, it’s an even bigger risk if they are home-grown leaders who came up within the organization, because they feel greater ownership, and it’s more difficult to envision other bulls to ride.

No glory

I like the elegance of Bhansali’s words: there’s no glory in staying too long. In fact, there are numerous traps around longevity that make it difficult to step away when the time comes.

  • Entitlement. I promised myself when I started my role that I would not be a president who presides. Inspired by the warnings of Dr. Stephen Sample2, I wasn’t taking the role to be president as much as to do president. I saw it as a responsibility, not a title. But the longer you stay, the easier it is to settle in, to take things for granted, or to feel you deserve perks or recognition.
  • Tying identity to the role. As an Enneagram 3, I could write a book on this challenge. A particular focus during my sabbatical in 2022 was to develop other sides of my personality so I could say I am more than my job. If I’m not, leaving becomes an existential crisis.
  • Conflation of yourself and the role. It’s a problem when you reach the conclusion that you are the organization, and therefore, anything you want to do must be good for the organization. Conversely, anyone who opposes your plans must not want what’s best for the organization.
  • Loss of organizational autonomy. There is a point when an organization becomes conflated with the leader to the point the organization struggles to know what it would look like without that leader. The most obvious example would be founder’s syndrome, but it’s also possible with long-serving leaders who end up eclipsing the founder—such as Ray Croc at McDonald’s and Asa Griggs Candler at Coca-Cola.

Leaving is a radical way to break these traps, but regular evaluation around each one can help keep them at bay. Here are some ideas to approach leadership from the assumption that your departure is inevitable.

1. Leadership is a process of constantly turning over responsibilities to others. There are phases when the head of the organization needs to get personally involved, but the goal is to turn each initiative over to the right leader to carry it forward. In my experience, the best way to kill an initiative as the leader is to hold onto it too long. (See Leaders aren’t fruit-bearers.) The leader’s time is valuable real estate, and failure to release responsibilities comes at the expense of the rest of the organization. Remember that when it’s time to leave, anything that hasn’t been properly delegated is finished.

My mantra over my last months in my presidency became, “Let go. And trust God.” It certainly wasn’t easy; sometimes I struggled to extricate my hand from the grip. Week after week, I reviewed the list of things that were still on my desk and challenged my rationale for holding onto them. I knew there were some programs that were still fledgling, and if I pulled away too quickly, they wouldn’t make it. In spite of my attempts, one or two passion projects were casualties of the timing of my departure. That is an inevitable part of exiting.

2. A leader is a steward of a particular era. Unless the leader is the founder, the organization existed before she came, and it will continue after she’s gone. As Simon Sinek3 points out, leadership is not a finite game, with clear starting and stopping points. A stewardship mentality invites a different way of operating, including a willingness to invest in people, play the long game and lay the foundation for your successor.

What gave me counterintuitive courage to release initiatives was the realization that the next leader might very well drop it anyway—even if it was thriving, even if it had shown success under my stewardship. It’s the prerogative of your successor and his or her board, and closing something down doesn’t invalidate the successes of a previous era.

3. The greatest success for a leader is that the organization succeeds after he’s gone. If we’re honest, part of us wants to prove our worth by seeing the organization or initiative fall apart after we’re gone. But that would be a reflection on a leader who made it about himself—which is not leadership at all. When an organization is left in good shape, has a clear direction and has reserves to carry on its mission after a leadership transition, it reflects well on the departing leader.

Anyone who has worked with me over the past decade has heard me pray, over and over, “Lord, this is your organization.” At the end of the day, you aren’t married to your job or the organization. Keeping in mind that it’s God’s organization, God’s company, God’s program, will keep your hands limber so you can let go when the time is right.

References:

  1. How To Ride A Bucking Bull: Stay Calm And Hang On…For Now, article by Vineer Bhansali, Forbes, Sep 19, 2018
  2. The Contrarian’s Guide to Leadership, by Dr. Stephen Sample
  3. The Infinite Game, by Simon Sinek

Leadership as bull riding series:

Countercultural Integrity

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New Years is the point in the year when recency bias culminates. Journalists love to reflect back on the year, and top-10 and top-100 lists proliferate. It’s easy to fall into this fallacy that puts too much stock in recent experiences or current-day successes over historical comparisons. Any conversation about the “Greatest of All Time” is likely going to give too much consideration to modern-day athletes, actors and statesmen as we forget some of the amazing feats of early-day practitioners, especially when evaluated against their context and antagonists.

So it’s quite remarkable to weigh these words from God in Ezekiel 14:13-14:

…if a country sins against me by being unfaithful and I stretch out my hand against it… even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness, declares the Sovereign Lord.

That’s an interesting grouping of Bible characters that’s easy to gloss over when read 2,600 years after it was written. In Ezekiel’s day, Noah and Job would have been legendary. But Daniel was still alive at the time this passage was written—likely in the time between Daniel 2 and 4. A lot of what we know about this young man hadn’t taken place yet.

I’m trying to think of a parallel. It’s not on the same level as comparing LeBron James to Wilt Chamberlain, or a current-day activist reformer to Mahatma Gandhi. It’s an entirely different scale, like rounding out the following groupings with someone who is alive today:

  • Plato, Aristotle and _______
  • Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and _______

How would you even begin to put someone else in that elite company?

It would be much less dangerous to include a third historical figure, where the record is largely complete. Were there no other ancient figures to list among those two legends? Perhaps Abraham, who asked God for mercy, interceding on behalf of two cities that were known for wickedness (Gen 18:22-23)? Caleb, who wholeheartedly followed the Lord in contrast with many of his contemporaries (Num 14:24)? Kings Hezekiah or Josiah, who were both described as exceptional followers of the Lord, who wholeheartedly turned to Him and and unceasingly obeyed (2 Kings 18:5-6, 23:25)?

What trait is celebrated by grouping these three? Personal righteousness, specifically a righteousness that stands against pressure to conform. Let’s call it courageous righteousness and countercultural integrity. The thing about righteousness is that, until the record is closed, it can be gone in an instant. Declaring that a contemporary figure is righteous comes with considerable risk. Ask any company who has had to disentangle themselves from a celebrity endorsement contract. And we can certainly point to many recent church leaders who were exemplary until their secrets were unearthed.

What does the record say about these three figures?

Noah

Noah is a mythic figure, the subject of legends and known to everyone as the man who saved civilization in the world’s only true historical global catastrophe. Before he began building the ark, Genesis 6:9 introduces him as a righteous man, blameless in his generation—in contrast with a perverse culture described in verses 1-7. The apostle Peter later says not only that God preserved him because of his personal righteousness, but that he was a preacher of righteousness (2 Pet 2:5). And Hebrews 11:7 says he inherited righteousness through his faith and in building the ark, he condemned the world.

Job

This ancient figure was commended by God for being blameless, fearing God and turning away from evil—like no one else on earth (Job 1:8 and 2:3). He searched for sin in his own heart and his civic and business activities (ch 31), and held onto his integrity even against his wife’s advice (2:9). He made sacrifices on behalf of his adult children in case any had sinned (1:5) and interceded for his friends. After chapters of false accusations against him, God himself endorsed Job for speaking rightly about God; his prayers alone were acceptable to God (42:7-9). Job is a model of someone who was “purified… in the furnace of affliction” (Isaiah 48:10).

Daniel

This Jewish captive—who would go on to serve as an advisor for decades to a succession of powerful pagan kings, and gain a reputation by preaching righteousness to King Nebuchadnezzar (Daniel 4:27), praying in spite of religious laws, and for surviving a death sentence in a lion’s den (ch 6)—had done very little when his name was dropped in Ezekiel 14.

As of this writing, this young captive had paired his looks and his brain with the courage of his convictions, refusing to defile himself in spite of high stakes (ch 1). He was then noticed by the Babylonian king as a standout wise man in whom was the spirit of the gods and the ability to communicate with the “revealer of mysteries” (ch 2). Ezekiel’s prophecy is evidence that, even early in Daniel’s career, his reputation had spread to the exiles—like Ezekiel. It likely soared after such a strong endorsement from God himself!

Most of us are too jaded after a series of scandals to count on any modern day figure seeing their integrity survive their lives intact. Of course, God alone knows that Daniel will burnish that early reputation even further, and is not in danger of failing.

What’s my point?

Who could stand today in that righteousness hall of fame? Like Noah, does your integrity stand out against the backdrop of our culture? Like Job and Daniel, can your righteousness stand against pressures to conform?

How many of our contemporaries have started out strong, developed a reputation for integrity and courage, only to fail before the end? It’s a reminder that leaders need constant vigilance against entitlement and compromise. Maintaining our character is hard work. 

As Bobby Clinton says in his Leadership Emergence Theory, very few attain the status he calls “Afterglow”—“the fruit of a lifetime of ministry and growth [that] culminates in an era of recognition and indirect influence,” a time in which “Others will seek them out because of their consistent record in following God” (The Making of a Leader, p47). As a leader, I long to get to that point, with few regrets and a consistency worth celebrating.

Fellow leaders, what disciplines are you putting in place to ensure that when you step down from leadership you will maintain the good name you’ve spent a lifetime building? As new years begin, we love inventories, reflection and examens (If you’re unfamiliar, here’s an example), and the one in Job 31 is a great starting place—covering a breadth of areas like sexual sin, deceit, greed, injustice, stinginess, jealousy and people pleasing.

Plan your dismount beforehand

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As I was researching this analogy of leadership-as-bull-riding, I was delighted to find another author who had also used the same analogy, but for investing1. Think of the parallels to leadership as you read this quote from Vineer Bhansali:

Plan now for the dismount: Finally, it is important to not get “married” to the bull. In bull-riding, once the eight seconds are up, there is no glory in staying on the bull… There will be other bulls to ride. If nothing else, one should have an “exit strategy” in mind before mounting the bull.

In this series, I’m going to borrow Bhansali’s points to frame out a few of my own points about leadership succession planning. I’m mostly thinking of a first chair leader, but you can make the adjustments to other situations.

Plan your exit strategy beforehand

I’ll admit it’s a challenge to ask a newly-appointed leader—whose attention is more likely focused on what he want to accomplish in their first 100 days—to think about his dismount before day one. Here are three ways to apply exit strategy planning.

1. Articulate a best case road map

Employment contracts force us to consider the end game, articulating parameters and clauses for the eventuality of an exit. They should spell out how the leader would initiate an exit plan, and what steps will then kick into place. And how the board would initiate, and what happens then. A contract is the minimum, a starting point designed for protection of organizational assets and individuals. A deeper step might be a contingency plan that fleshes out scenarios for each of the various circumstances where a successor would be needed.

I’m urging going beyond protection and contingencies to considering a best case scenario for how you and the organization want to walk away from your time together. How can both end up with wins, even if the circumstances aren’t the best? Most leaders don’t ask these questions early enough to make a difference in how they set up and carry out their role. 

Lacking clearly-articulated expectations requires negotiation late in the game, which can create unnecessary pain and challenge. I know it doesn’t need to be said, but you have much better negotiating power before you take the position, not afterward.

2. Actively engage in ongoing succession planning

In a previous role in leadership development, I encouraged every leader to keep a chart naming:

  • at least one immediate successor
  • the most likely candidate(s) to be ready in the next two years, and
  • any long shots who need to be on their radar.

Then for the two most obvious candidates, track whether they are in a position that prepares them for the role, and an action step for their development. Ideally, on an annual basis, consider whether those two have taken a development step of some kind and design the next step you could help them take.

Throughout my role as president, I maintained my own confidential succession plan with potential replacements. I gave regular updates to the board, including a list of my most likely successors, using as a framework the classic article from Eichinger and Peters2 that draws your attention to “seven CEOs working for your organization today”—everyone from the 50-year-old most-logical CEO-in-waiting to the 35-year-old rising star to the 18-year-old high-potential intern. I also tracked along with the development of a number of these candidates, encouraging and even intervening in their development. With a couple, I had direct conversations to encourage very specific development and share openly about my own plans.

Keep in mind that a succession plan needs to be a living document, regularly updated. It’s far too easy to rest in your plans only to discover when you need it that it’s out of date: leaders are no longer available, you’ve lost confidence in one, or your view too optimistic and none are ready. Remember that, in a number of scenarios, carrying out the succession plan will be managed by someone other than you. Therefore it needs to be accessible and understandable by those who might be implementing it. Of course, those scenarios also mean you won’t be the one to make the decisions, and the one who does may go in a completely different direction. Your goal in succession planning is to intentionally invest in your preferred candidates so they are ready and so attractive that they will stand out among the options.

3. Develop a rhythm that asks the question

You need a rhythm that sparks the necessary conversation that will air out assumptions and plans. It could be as rigorous as formalizing 3- or 4-year terms for your position, or as simple as a calendared conversation. Without that, the onus is on one party or the other to initiate the conversation, and there’s a tendency for each side to set the bar high for a circumstance weighty enough to end the status quo. 

A well-designed plan, with early negotiations, a constant updating of the succession landscape, and scheduled conversations, will allow a leader to dismount in a way that minimizes injury and ensures a smooth transition to whatever’s next for both parties. Seamless exits and handovers start before mounting the bull.

My final thought is that both sides need to show a lot of grace. No amount of planning will remove all potential for injury in a process as fraught as this one. But none of these injuries should be fatal; time will heal minor wounds, allowing both bull and bull rider to move forward with genuine respect, admiration and a desire for the best case for both.

References:

  1. How To Ride A Bucking Bull: Stay Calm And Hang On…For Now, article by Vineer Bhansali, Forbes, Sep 19, 2018
  2. There are seven CEOs working for your organization today—do you know who they are and do you know what to do?, article by Robert W. Eichinger and James Peters, 2005. (It doesn’t seem to be online anymore, but I can send it to you if you’re interested.)

Leadership as bull riding series:

Dazzled

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Once someone has a personal encounter with God, there’s no return to his or her mundane prior existence. One of the most memorable groups from the Christmas story is the first witnesses to his birth, the shepherds. In Luke 2:8-20, we see their transformation from calm night watchers to eager seekers to passionate witnesses.

But in his poem, “The Shepherds,” Mario Luzi points out the sheep were also eyewitnesses deeply impacted by that experience:

            And where would
                  those dazzled sheep graze now?
      Where were the rams pushing them?
                                      There was
      no grass at that height.
                        There was some
      Much further down
              But they didn’t want it, that grass
                                was crushed
                                and bitter,
                                      Now
                                      they craved something else.
(excerpt, translated by Luigi Bonaffini and taken from Biola University’s 2024 Advent Project)

An experience of the divine is life-redirecting. Our desires and values have changed, and the ordinary is now ruined. We see it in the admission from the Jewish authorities in Acts 4:13 that the disciples were hardly recognizable because “they had been with Jesus.” We see it in the radical transformation of fire-breathing Saul into the great apostle Paul through an encounter with the Jesus he had been persecuting. (Acts 9) And we see it all over the world as people groups meet Jesus through the translated Word of God. 

Those who have been dazzled are no longer hungry for what used to satisfy, but crave something higher. 

I sometimes wonder what happened to others who had an encounter with the divine, but the camera moves on, and there are no further updates. For instance:

  • Where does Lazarus show up in the book of Acts? How does a man who once was dead (John 11,12), who can empathize with Jesus’s experience like no one else, engage in the early movement Jesus started? I can’t imagine him fading quietly into the background.
  • What happened to the seventy Jesus sent out as witnesses and miracle workers? (Luke 10:1) They saw Jesus’ power coursing through their own words and in their own hands, and they had big stories to tell! (Luke 10:17) Some suggest that Andronicus and Junia (Romans 16:7) might have been two of these early ones sent out in pairs by Jesus, because Paul refers to them as “outstanding among the apostles,” and says they “were in Christ before I was.”
  • How did carrying Jesus’ cross change Simon, a bystander from northern Africa, who was forced into the spotlight for a brief moment? (Mark 15:21) While he never shows up again, his transformation is evident in his family: his sons are well known to the early Roman church, and Paul thinks of Simon’s wife as his adopted mother. (Romans 16:13)
  • What happened to the thousands in the streets of Acts 2, who heard the empowered apostles speaking in their languages? How did they lay the foundation throughout Rome and modern-day Turkey for Paul’s and Peter’s ministries? (Acts 13:13; 16:6; 18:2,23; 1 Peter 1:1)

And whatever happened to those shepherds? In the moment, they excitedly told everyone about meeting Jesus. Were they ever able to go back to their fields? Did any of them show up in the margins of the events described throughout the gospels? No doubt they were watching, anticipating a seismic shift. 

But the baby had to grow up before he could begin his earth-shaking ministry. The payoff would be well beyond their lifetimes. It was those who heard and responded to their message who would experience Jesus’ three years of ministry, his death and his resurrection. Sometimes the transformation comes well downstream from the original encounter. That’s where Scripture becomes an enduring witness for the generations that follow.

Maybe you have one of those transformation stories, or you are the downstream result of a transformative encounter. In what way were you dazzled, unable to return to the ordinary food that used to sustain you? Take some time to reflect on your own story, and your family’s story. If you have the time this Christmas, I’d love to hear your transformation story.

I’m going to sleep

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You’ve likely heard the line: “The Lord grants sleep to those he loves.” So what does my brain conclude when I’m awake in the early hours, trying to get my mind to shut down so my body can get back to sleep? Insomnia already lends itself to negative spirals, so you don’t want to let the thought in that God’s love is measured by the quality or quantity of our sleep.

One morning last month when I finally gave up trying to sleep, I looked up that verse in two versions to capture the nuances. It’s even more confusing, because what does that last line have to do with everything that precedes it?

Unless the Lord builds the house,
    those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
    the watchman stays awake in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early
    and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil;
    for he gives to his beloved sleep. (ESV)

Unless the Lord builds the house,
    the builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
    the guards stand watch in vain.
In vain you rise early
    and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
    for he grants sleep to those he loves. (NIV)

Let’s dig in and try to put the thoughts together. If only I was working from a bit more sleep…

Notice a few phrases: “Labor in vain.” “Stay awake in vain.” “Rise early in vain.” “Stay up late in vain.” And “anxious toil.” Ultimately all of these situations boil down to a person believing he is indispensable – that everything depends on him.

Or her. Remember that the celebrated wife in Proverbs 31 rises while it is still night to provide food for her household (v15), and her lamp does not go out at night (v18). Lack of sleep is no respecter of gender.

Sleepless nights are particularly a problem for leaders, who are builders, who are watchmen, who are providers and protectors. These roles are not trivial. People’s livelihoods, and even their lives, could be at stake. Knowing the author is Solomon also tells us another piece of context: this house he’s building is the Temple in Jerusalem (1 Kings 5-8). It adds a spiritual element to our roles: as spiritual shepherds and watchmen, we must rely on God to keep watch over the souls of those we lead (Heb 13:17).

The first point of the psalm is that we need to cooperate with God’s work. Unless God is working, the fact we’re staying up late or rising early won’t get us ahead. Better to give it to God and let him carry the burden for us. When we do that, whether it’s at night, during vacations or even during work hours, we are able to release the pressure of holding everything ourselves.

But let’s go deeper. Why does the author—Solomon himself—bring up the fact that we’re beloved? This gets at the heart of why the work doesn’t really depend on us. 

We know God chose Solomon to be king even before he was born. He would be a man of rest, and God himself would call him his son (1 Chronicles 22:9-10). The Lord loved Solomon and even gave him a special name: “God’s beloved” (2 Samuel 12:24-25). When God appeared to him in a dream and he chose wisdom over health and long life (1 Kings 3:10-12), he was not trying to prove his worth because he already had it.

Worthiness is not part of a father’s equation; if a son didn’t earn that status, he can’t lose it or gain more of it through his decisions and actions. That knowledge leads you to a place of deep rest.

Finally, notice that three of the things we do “in vain” take place at night. When I lose sleep at night, it’s because I’m turning things over in my head. As soon as something wakes me, my brain immediately begins racing 100 miles an hour. So at 3am, I’m moving from problem to problem, turning them around and trying to solve them. But I’m not writing anything down. I’m not capturing thoughts. I’m not getting up and working the problem. It’s all in vain.

Anxious toil was Martha’s problem, too. While her sister Mary sat at Jesus’ feet, listening to him, Martha was working hard, “worried and upset about many things” (Luke 10:38-42). I used to think I didn’t have a problem with anxiety, especially compared to others… until I named my sleepless hours for what they are: anxious toil.

So over the past week or two, I’ve been trying something. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I remind myself that I don’t need to do anything to earn or improve my status with God. I hand my anxieties and the sources of those anxieties back to God to hold for the night. I let him be the watchman. Then I try to dwell on what God says about me as his beloved. I picture myself sitting at Jesus feet.

I don’t often quote popes. But sometimes at 3am, I also quote John XXIII’s great line: “This is your church, Lord. I’m going to bed.”

Good enough

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When you need to make a decision, what percent of information would you say you need to move ahead? Is it closer to 100% or 60%? Err one way, and you fall into the ditch of analysis paralysis. The other side of the road can spill you into rash action. 

In Blink, Malcolm Gladwell argues that in many situations, people know instantaneously what they need to do, and the problem with waiting is that you can talk yourself out of the right answer. That was my experience in every high school exam. If I knew the answer, great. If I had an inkling but wasn’t sure, I’d then try to logic out the answer, and I’d choose a different answer than my immediate sense. Gladwell suggests you may have enough information in a split second to know what to do, and time could be your enemy. 

In The Contrarian’s Guide to Leadership, Dr. Steven Sample goes the other way. He urges leaders to ask, “How much time do I have?” If you have another week to make a decision, some additional information might come to light that would lead to a better decision. Of course, if the decision is needed today, you have to make the best decision you can with whatever information is available now, knowing that to not make a decision is a decision. The reality is that some problems resolve themselves, or solutions emerge as other leaders step up. In other words, the more lead time, the better your decision success rate should be. Think of it as strategic procrastination: put off until tomorrow what doesn’t have to be decided today. When time is up, whatever knowledge you have is “good enough.” 

There are ditches on both sides of the road.

Back to my original question: For you, what percentage of the information you wish you had is sufficient to make a decision? It’s a question of risk tolerance. If it helps, ask it this way, “Compared to others, for a particular type of decision, am I more or less risk averse?” 

For me, I can certainly be decisive, but when asked to make a decision, I find it helpful to dig deeper. The amount of information needed depends on the scope, gravity and reversibility of the decision. Most leadership decisions are not life and death, but some have far-reaching implications. Here are some of my approaches:

  1. Filtering. The amount of information available to us is unprecedented, so it’s obviously not the quantity of information we need. One of Gladwell’s solutions is the idea of filtering the factors that matter, so it’s less about how much information than what types of information to pay attention to. I remember a very helpful acronym from my university calculus classes: TBU. Some information is True But Useless. 
  1. Breaking it down. Many decisions are actually a series of decisions, and you proceed to the next stage if the answer is “not no.” In these cases, you have time to see how the first “yes” develops before proceeding or adjusting course. 
  1. Prototyping. I have seen that many decisions allow for a ready-aim-fire, aim-and-fire again approach. In my work with innovators, I’ve learned the value of a minimal viable product (MVP) to start moving, and to test and learn from earlier attempts while working on a more effective version 2.0.
  1. Holding. I tend toward Sample’s advice, determining what kind of decision is needed and how long I need. In his dissertation on “Leading with Limited Knowledge,” Rob Hay describes “holding” as carrying, pondering, and wrestling with an issue, turning it around in your hand to consider its many facets. In the middle of a situation—when thinking, praying, reflecting and discerning are most critical—time and space are costly. But those are key parts of a leader’s job description. 
  1. Testing. For significant decisions, I often utilize Ruth Haley Barton’s spiritual discernment process laid out in Pursuing God’s Will Together. There are a lot of great practices there, but let me highlight one. Barton recommends deciding in your mind one way and letting it sit for a while before doing the same with the other choice. The implications of the decision emerge in ways you might not have noticed if you stayed in neutral.

In Acts 15, the early Church demonstrated a form of discernment in the way they approached a critical decision. The question they faced touched on deep-seated biases and had very significant implications that could tear the Church apart: Should the Church remain exclusive to Jews, or should it expand to include Gentiles? After hearing the facts and listening to debate, James, the leader of the Church in Jerusalem, held up their arguments against his own study of Scripture and then made a judgment call. Three times after that, the Church carried out implementation steps that “seemed good”—to various parties, “to the Holy Spirit and to us” (Acts 15:22, 25, 28). 

There’s a humility in those words. Even when it’s an earth-shaking decision that will decide the future of the Church, the best James and the elders could do was conclude that it seemed good.  It’s an acknowledgement that our best efforts to hear the arguments and logic out the implications are limited and flawed, because we are human. Even if God clearly speaks, we can get it wrong because of our interpretations or the lens we use. The most we can do is conclude that it seems right, and accept that God has given those who lead in this moment the responsibility to make the decision.

We will never get it right 100% of the time, but we have to move forward.

I’ve taken to calling my approach “good enough.” I talk about it in terms of 90%—an arbitrary number that simply represents imperfection. 

  • If I can get 90% of the information that’s available at the point the decision is required, move ahead. 
  • If I can get most of the value out of a 90% MVP approach, move ahead.1
  • If I can get 90% in the room in favor of a direction, move ahead.2
  • And if I’m 90% sure that God is pointing in a certain direction, test that decision, sit with it, share it humbly, and then move ahead. 

Rob Hay promotes the idea of “tentative certainty.” Rather than try to make the whole decision, tentative certainty means being certain enough, with the amount of knowledge available, to take the next step. As you begin to act, pay attention in order to respond to the unexpected and be able to change direction.

  1. That extra 10% will likely take a lot more resources without adding much value anyway. ↩︎
  2. In most cases, people need to know their voice was heard, but consensus isn’t required. ↩︎

Courage!

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She grabbed me and made sure I was looking into her eyes. “Coo-rajh!” she told me. It was the early days of my time as president of an organization, and this staff member who had spent many years in Francophone Africa had a clear message for me, which sounds much cooler in French but reads bilingually: “Courage!”

Eleven years later, at my final staff meeting as president, the board presented me with this print from Indigenous artist, Leissa MacDonald. In the artist statement, MacDonald says,

The Bear is a symbol of courage, bravery is taught to us by the bear. Bears are known to confront threats they should be fearful of, they protect their cubs against larger bears and other dangers. The bear also reminds us to be playful and to rest when needed. It is in the balance of these teachings that we are taught how to be courageous.

I’m not sure the board could have given me a greater gift than affirming that I had led with courage. Let’s unpack a few elements in this description and how I sought to apply them.

1. Confront threats (they should be fearful of)

I always reject any suggestion that there is such thing as a “fearless leader.” While I was president, when we would get ready to embark on a new initiative with significant risk, I would lose sleep. I’d be afraid it wouldn’t work. I’d be afraid for those who would be hurt or feel marginalized by the change or who wouldn’t have roles after the change went through. We all have fears.

But my driver on any change was the anticipation of threats. The status quo is a place of safety… for a while. But it eventually becomes a liability and will lead to major issues. I always try to look down the line to see the dangers coming, and address issues early. Threats that seem small today tend to grow. Rather than facing a huge bear in the future, it’s better to face the bear earlier at its current size. Of course, it also occasionally means challenging a huge bear and taking on an issue that cannot be ignored.

What makes this approach particularly difficult is that it’s a prophetic role. The leader looks like a provocateur, stirring up issues that no one else feels are important. People pleasers and procrastinators will always struggle with this role of a leader. When I began serving as president and looked at the long list of issues I inherited, I made a personal promise that I would not hand these challenges off to my successor, but I would address them. I did shorten the list considerably, but I still grieve the ones I wasn’t able to resolve and the new ones that arose (some I likely caused) that I had to leave for my successor.

2. Protect your cubs

In 2 Corinthians 11, Paul lays out a long list of tragedies he’s faced for the sake of the gospel: beatings, shipwrecks, floggings, etc. Then in verses 28-29, he adds,

Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?

Part of the role of leadership is to carry deep concern for those you lead. It’s a daily pressure. This includes some who are struggling with change, some who are weak, some dealing with mental health issues, and some who are led into sin. Losses feel very personal. We feel every blow.

So the job of the leader is to to be a mama bear, where no one wants to get between you and your cubs. In The Contrarian’s Guide to Leadership, Dr. Stephen Sample has a rule: No complaining about your team. If a leader delegates something to a team member, she has two choices: support them or fire them. The leader does not get to complain about someone on her team who’s underperforming. If the results aren’t there, the primary strategy available to her is to invest in the person and help get to the bottom of why the staff member is not accomplishing the job that was delegated. Her only other option is to change the delegation, handing the job to someone else.

Protecting your cubs does not mean you don’t have to make courageous personnel decisions. I appreciate another of Dr. Sample’s rules: Shoot your own horse. If a rancher has a sick or hurting pig, cow or sheep, he can get a neighbour to help him put the animal out of its misery. But not a horse. As a rancher’s closest companion and most trustworthy partner in accomplishing his work, if a man needs to put his horse down, he has to look the animal in the eye and do it himself. Sample concludes that a leader must show sufficient respect and courage to fire his own deputies rather than delegate that job. I would add that he should do everything he can to show generosity, care and provision as he does it. In some cases, I’ve been able to eventually turn a former staff person into an ally and advocate even though I inflicted the pain of termination.

Letting a staff member go can be a means of protecting your cubs. I remember a time when I had to let a longtime staff member go, one who had been fighting accountability at every turn. The next day I saw the staff member who had been providing that accountability. Her countenance seemed different. I swear she had a bounce in her step. Remember that you never want to lose good staff because you didn’t address poor-performing staff quickly enough.

3. Play and rest

At first, Leissa MacDonald’s comment about play and rest feels like an incongruity. What is the connection to courage?

It takes courage and faith to step away to take a vacation, a weekend or a good night’s sleep, because it’s an act of releasing control. There’s a story that during the long, exhausting hours of the Second Vatican Council, Pope John XXIII announced one night, “God, it’s your Church. I’m going to bed.” Turning over the keys is primarily a declaration that God is in charge, not us. G.K. Chesterton comments:

The greatest act of faith that a man can perform is the act that we perform every night. We abandon our identity, we turn our soul and body into chaos and old night. We uncreate ourselves as if at the end of the world: for all practical purposes we become dead men, in the sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection. After that it is in vain for us to call ourselves pessimists when we have this trust in the laws of nature, when we let them keep an armed and omnipotent watch over our cradle. It is in vain for us to say that we think the ultimate power evil when every twelve hours or so we give our soul and body back to God without security. This is the essential sanctity of sleep… (Chesterton, Lunacy and Letters)

Taking time for rest reflects a deep faith in God’s ability to carry your load or manage the organization you steward.

For a leader, there’s never really a good time to step away for rest and play, but it is critical. Reed Hastings has been asked many times to explain the 2-word vacation policy he rolled out at Netflix: “Take some.” Hastings points out that in many young companies, the real issue is that no one uses their vacation days. It’s true for many non-profits as well. Staff work long hours and struggle to step away, especially if the culture or their leader subtly celebrates workaholism. So in 2003, Hastings removed the upper cap on vacation days and began to model vacation-taking. He forced himself to take month-long trips and then told everyone he could what a great time he had. The company survived without him, and often he came back with fresh ideas. It took courage to step away for that long when leading such a huge and growing company. It took even greater courage to trust his staff and remove the constraints.

Let me also add an affirmation for all those who aren’t first-chair leaders. Having recently transitioned back into a second-chair role, I’ve observed that at times there is a peace in knowing that the buck stops with someone else. But it also requires faith and the courage to follow when decisions were made and you weren’t in the room. It’s that same sense of trust that allows a leader to rest and play.

Conclusion

The question for leaders is whether we have the faith to push past our fears and the setbacks and challenges that come our way. My observation is that you don’t necessarily start out with the courage you will need. At the beginning, the threats and challenges look enormous. It’s in the practice of leadership, from the earliest attempts all the way to the first chair (and back down again), where the muscles get developed. It’s a daily practice. Staying in the game, choosing again today to lead rather than be passive, that’s what teaches us to be courageous.

Another of my favorite blog posts on courage can be found here: Courage and Leadership

An overlapping circle model for mission

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In my previous post, I introduced a way of seeing Acts 1:8 as a call to global Church partnership through the idea of overlapping circles. Like intersecting ripples that radiate across a pond from a rain storm, the location of one church’s “ends of the earth” might be another church’s “Judea,” and one church’s “Samaria” might be another’s “Jerusalem.”

Jesus’ plan for mission could be summarized by four concurrent strategies:

1. Local, indigenous evangelism. Local people have real advantages to being missional in their own context. Instinctively, they know the community and the language. Travel costs are reduced and they don’t need cross-cultural training. The problem is that they lack the ability to step back and notice things that would be obvious to an outsider. In other words, they have blind spots about their own language and culture. To expose those blind spots, it takes a visitor from another ring with fresh eyes showing up and asking dumb questions or breaking the culture and language down through analysis.

2. National outreach. Likewise, everyone has a pretty good grasp of the surrounding and near culture, and some of the same savings in travel and training apply here as well. Certainly local citizens need less help to understand and relate to their culture than a foreigner would. However, there are some problems. They are vulnerable to absorbing the surrounding culture without question or noticing how it’s changing them, perhaps developing nearsightedness or even nationalistic tendencies. One specific trap is that they might gloss over differences like regional biases and flavours. Missions within their own country might still require cross-cultural skills to bridge gaps to their neighbors.

3. Marginalized reconciliation. To my mind, Samaria refers to the groups anyone marginalizes or has trouble getting along with. These are the places where regional biases cross the line into prejudices, and generations of pain and even hatred may need to be unraveled. Ministry in these contexts therefore begins with truth-telling reconciliation. Only after addressing woundedness can individuals or churches be effective witnesses. The good news is that other nations and cultures can act as a neutral third party to set the table. In fact, others’ experiences can help churches with their tensions and struggles if they can learn from and honestly apply the others’ lessons to their own failures and successes.

4. Expatriate missions. In order to reach every nation, some will need to leave their home country to go overseas. This is the costliest approach to missions, but we shouldn’t underestimate the way the gospel has spread and brought transformation around the world because of the faith and risks taken by foreign missionaries. To do it well requires a great deal of understanding in order to fully contextualize the gospel and Scriptures across cultural borders without adding our own cultural ideals and historical assumptions. We go in as servants to the local community or local Church. It also requires making long-term commitments and taking the long view in expectations and metrics.

Bottom line: mission is most effective when the global Church comes together and works together—in local evangelism, national outreach, reconciliation and cross-cultural mission, but also mixing roles like prayer, funding, and other forms of resourcing—to participate together in God’s purposes to draw all people to himself.

Acts 1:8 Series

Overlapping Circles

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After considering how the disciples understood Jesus’ words in Acts 1:8, and how a global, current day Church understands those words, let me get to my point. It starts with two statements:

1. I believe Jesus was speaking to all believers, and he was laying out a pattern for mission that could be applied worldwide: You, the Church, will be my witnesses in concentric circles: wherever you consider your Jerusalem, your Judea, your Samaria and your ends of the earth. 

2. Each circle must be engaged with the humble realization that your “Jerusalem” or “Judea” is someone else’s “ends of the earth,” someone else’s “Samaria.” Our circles overlap. 

This is how I believe Jesus pictured the Church in Acts 1:8:

There are numerous implications of this metaphor.

First, the overlap. Each part of the Church has an epicenter for its missional activity but has responsibility to engage in other rings as God leads them and opens doors. In that way, every part of the world is covered, double covered and triple covered, each location or category the responsibility of multiple branches of the Church.

Second, the ripples crash into each other. These overlapping circles interact with each other and even interdepend on each other. But, as with ripples in a pond, there are secondary impacts as the ripples affect each other. Such overlap is unpredictable, bound to create additional opportunities, consequences and disruptions.

Here are a few implications that come to mind for me:

  • Jesus intended expatriates and local citizens to minister together in mission. An expat Kenyan who wants to do ministry in Canada should certainly work together with local Canadians who are trying to reach their Jerusalem. Any ministry to a marginalized group should incorporate the nearby Church who loves and understands that demographic. As some have said, “Nothing about them without them.”
  • If there’s no local Church among a people group, then the overlapping circles create opportunity for partnership to cover the gap until a church is birthed who can focus on their “Jerusalem.”
  • We’d be fools to try to do mission without local and indigenous insight and partnership. When we go overseas, we must take the role of servants, putting ourselves in second place to those who understand language and culture to a degree we never will.  
  • Conversely, we would be negligent in fulfilling our part in Jesus’ mission if we took a “take-care-of-your-own” approach and simply delegated mission in every country to local people. This image forces us to consider the crash of ripples coming together in the interplay between those who provide funds or staff and those who spend the budget.
  • We would be missing Jesus’ intent if we didn’t see the value that immigrant missionaries in our country could bring to help us reach our nation.
  • If you think of the conceptual meaning of “Samaria,” which might be a group with historical tensions with our own, it’s worthwhile asking who considers us their “Samaria.” Other parts of the Church might be able to help break down those barriers and even help heal the rifts.

Ultimately, this metaphor asks who we should partner with to accomplish the mission for any location we feel drawn to or called to. Rather than working alone to impact our city, who else has a passion to reach our neighbourhood, city or province? Could we be the catalyst that makes their ministry effective?

For instance, can you imagine the power of the overlapping circles working together to reach Canada? What if the Church in Montreal or in Eeyou Istchee (a First Nations community in northern Quebec) partnered with a local Ottawa church to reach our nation’s capital? What would have to happen to enable that kind of remarkable inter-circle ministry? Who or what would stand in the way of such a partnership?

I know I’m only beginning to scratch the surface of the implications for this way of thinking. What other applications do you see?

Acts 1:8 Series

We live in the ends of the earth

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I believe Jesus’ words in Acts 1:8 were intended not just for his immediate audience, the disciples who would become apostles, but for all believers, all generations. Indeed, the Church in every generation has applied its own interpretations to these locations. Ours is a translated faith, a religion that Lamin Sanneh argues was intended to be translated from the very beginning and would continue to be translated.1

While the disciples might have been limited in their perception of the ends of the earth, I believe Jesus, the One who spoke creation into being (Col 1:15-16), was thinking of the distant shores of Papua New Guinea and the desert tribes of the Gobi, Great Victorian and Sahara. I also believe he anticipated the state of the global Church today: a decentralized Church existing in every part of the world.

It’s important to understand where we in North America fit in. If Jesus’ disciples could have comprehended Canada and the U.S. at the time, they would certainly have slotted us into the “ends of the earth” category.

Think about the implications of that for a minute. The North American Church is so used to being the center of Christianity, but we started off-center, and the center of Christianity has moved to the southern and eastern hemispheres.

Our contextualization of these verses simply exists alongside the view of other believers around the world. Where do they think of when they hear Jesus’ words? I asked that recently in a Zoom call with two dozen people from every part of the world. Here are some of the results:

What you think of as Jerusalem/JudeaWhat you think of as the ends of the earth
U.K.Outer Mongolia
NetherlandsChina
KoreaAfrica
NigeriaNorth and South Poles
U.S.North Pole
U.S.Siberia
EthiopiaAmerica
NetherlandsNew Zealand
IndiaEnd of India
U.S.Abu Dhabi
U.S.East and West coast of U.S.
CameroonAmerica
U.K.Vancouver

How many of you live in someone else’s ends of the earth? Have you ever visited a place you once viewed as the ends of the earth? The mobility we experience today is truly remarkable! The Church is a global Church, present and engaging in mission everywhere.

We’ll build from these two posts as I get to my main point in the next blog post.

Acts 1:8 Series

1 Sanneh, Lamin. Whose Religion is Christianity? The Gospel Beyond the West. Eerdmans. 2003, p97.