Why Are Christian Leades Lonely?
October 26, 2009
The following is an excerpt from my new book, The Painful Side of Leadership
Browsing in a bookstore several years ago, I came across a pamphlet on loneliness among leaders by Chuck Swindoll entitled
The Lonely Whine of the Top Dog. While I have long since lost the booklet, the title was so intriguing it has stuck with me for many years. Being a “top dog” can be a lonely, isolating experience. Some reasons are inevitable – they simply come with the territory. When a person assumes a leadership role, the role itself makes the leader unique and separates the leader from their followers. Even in a team environment, where there is shared responsibility and community, the buck has to stop with someone. The finality of ultimate responsibility makes leadership a lonely experience. Let’s consider two (of several) dimensions of leadership that creates lonely leaders.
Leaders feel lonely because they are isolated by information. Leaders know information about their followers they aren’t able to share with anyone. The information can be personal – like a pastor knowing who has a drinking problem or who was abused as a child. Or, the information can be more professional – like the negative results of a personnel evaluation. One of the ways this creates leadership isolation is through decisions team members. When a person – paid or volunteer – is dismissed, demoted, removed from or refused a leadership role, the leader who makes this decision usually can’t reveal the reasons. It’s a lonely feeling to have a former employee freely sharing their version of their termination story, while you remain silent. Some will side with the disgruntled person while assuming the worst about you. The temptation to break confidence and share the details of a decision is powerful. Yet doing so accomplishes no good purpose, other than to defend your reputation as a leader. As a leader, you can’t be that self-serving.
It’s equally painful when you make decisions about followers based on private information, which are also second-guessed. For example, one pastor refused to allow a prominent church member to access church funds or otherwise supervise church finances. From the outside, it appeared to be a power play by the pastor to keep an influential person from contesting his direction of church resources. The real reason, however, was different. The pastor, through counseling with the man’s wife, knew he had a compulsive gambling problem and their family finances were in disarray. The pastor was unable to disclose this information and was accused of being unwilling to share leadership with a man others admired for his supposed financial acumen. He held his ground, but it was lonely ground to hold.
In another instance, a pastor refused to perform a wedding for a couple when he discovered evidence of physical abuse in the relationship. He was unwilling to perform the wedding until this serious issue was adequately resolved. Of course, he wasn’t able to share publicly the reasons for his decision. The bride-to-be, embarrassed by allowing herself to be victimized by her fiancé, publicly shared other dubious reasons for the pastor’s reluctance. When church members reacted negatively to his decision, not performing the wedding was a lonely position to maintain.
Information, and the need to maintain confidentiality, isolates leaders. We know facts about people in our organization that inform our decisions about them. Yet, we are often not at liberty to disclose this information – even to support our decisions or defend ourselves from scurrilous attacks. When you become a leader, you gain access to information you wouldn’t otherwise have. You also assume responsibility to handle that information appropriately, even when doing so is painful.
Leaders feel lonely because they are isolated by obedience. Obeying God can be a lonely experience – consider Jeremiah, Isaiah, John the Baptist or a host of other biblical characters. Like those men and women who obeyed God and found themselves isolated by their choices, leaders today have the same experience. In some places in the world, Christian leaders are arrested, imprisoned, and tortured for their obedience to God. Their passion for kingdom expansion is perceived as a threat to the state or national religion and they suffer consequences. One such leader experienced years of loneliness, imprisoned with very limited opportunity to be visited by family members. It was unsafe for church members or other friends to be associated with him while he was a prisoner. His experience closely paralleled biblical characters who truly suffered, alone, for their obedience to God.
For most leaders, the isolation of obedience isn’t this dramatic. It is, however, real in more subtle ways. For example, when a Christian leader takes a stand for a moral cause – like opposition to gay marriage or advocating justice for the poor – public ridicule often follows. In western culture, the most egregious insult today is being called “intolerant.” This is a code word describing anyone who articulates moral values based on absolute truth. In previous generations, “tolerance” was defined as respecting persons who held a position with which you disagreed. Today, “tolerance” has been redefined as accepting every belief as equally valid and affirming every person’s version of truth. When a leader advocates any absolute position based on the Bible (from the exclusivity of Jesus as Lord to the dignity of life for every person), that leader will be called
intolerant – almost a profanity in the 21st century!
Taking a moral stand is lonely, not only because of attacks from outsiders who disagree with a leader’s position, but also because of a growing ambiguity in the Christian community about the nature of truth, the appropriateness of absolute standards, and the right position on moral issues. In short, beware of friendly fire. Taking a moral stand may be a lonely decision – and it may become even lonelier as moral absolutes are rejected more decisively in the future.
Leaders are also isolated by obedience in other ways. When a leader senses God’s direction for their organization, the leader must be the first to make lifestyle adjustments to facilitate the change. A pastor who wants his church to build a new facility must be the first to make a financial commitment to the project. When the elders of a church are burdened to increase the spiritual devotion of their church’s members, they first must fast, pray, and consecrate themselves before leading the church through a similar process. When a leader determines God is leading in a specific direction, the leader must obey God first – often long before anyone else joins the process. Leaders are often ahead of the curve of organizational obedience. They set the pace, often alone, through personal obedience to God so they can later lead their organization to corporate obedience. Obeying God in this way can be a lonely experience.
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Take Responsibility
October 19, 2009
The following is an excerpt from my new book, The Painful Side of Leadership
“Take responsibility for your actions” sounds too basic, like something a first grade teacher would say to a student caught cheating on an exam. Accepting personal responsibility is a simple life lesson children are taught from the time they are able to make independent choices. Yet, despite early tutoring, we all seem to struggle perpetually with the problem of personal responsibility. Christian leaders aren’t exempt. We struggle to take responsibility for our actions – especially when they have painful consequences.
The devil likes to whisper, “Pass the buck” or “Let someone else take the fall” or “You’re the victim here!” Some time ago, I damaged a rental car on the first morning of a weeklong rental. Over that week, I was frequently tempted to find a way to get out of admitting I was negligent. Every day some reason for avoiding admitting fault would pop into my head. At first, I entertained those options. But once I determined to take responsibility, the devilish thoughts became almost amusing. After my decision was made, when thoughts of lying about the accident came to mind, I would pray silently, “Nice try, Satan, but you’ll have to do better than that.”
I returned the car, filed an honest claim, and took responsibility for my actions. But then another more troublesome temptation arose a few weeks later. Another car, rented by me, was damaged in a hotel parking lot by someone who didn’t leave a note or acknowledge what they had done. I was angry. Why should I have to pay for this damage? It wasn’t my fault. While that was true, it had happened on my watch. Rental contracts are clear – what happens while you have a car is your responsibility. The temptation was greater this time than it had been a few weeks before. But it wasn’t my fault! There had to be a way out of paying for it. No way should my insurance rates take another hit because of someone else’s irresponsibility.
Yet once again, I returned the car, pointed out the damage, and took responsibility for the repairs. This time, however, it wasn’t amusing. It was a genuine struggle to do the right thing. Paying that money was a bitter pill to swallow.
These might seem like trivial illustrations, and in some sense, they are. But they illustrate the subtle temptation every leader faces to shirk responsibility. Most major leadership failures only appear to be cataclysmic. In reality, the climactic implosion is almost always the final step in a series of smaller decisions to shirk responsibility, shift blame, and believe the lie “the rules just don’t apply to me.” Once you shirk a minor responsibility, it desensitizes you for the next temptation. Over time, your spiritual senses are dulled and it becomes easier and easier to blame others for your actions.
Blaming others is a sure-fire recipe for lost leadership effectiveness (in the least) or lost leadership opportunity (at the worst). A few years ago, two ministers – in separate incidents - were guilty of moral failure. The responses of the two ministers were diametrically opposite. One came forward and took full responsibility for his actions, blamed no one else, offered an immediate resignation, and asked for nothing from his church. He cooperated fully in making a public disclosure by reading a statement approved by the church leadership team without adding to or detracting from what he had agreed to say.
When the other man’s actions were uncovered, he blamed his wife for his sins, stonewalled the resignation process, created a gossip backdraft to undermine the church leaders who confronted him, and threatened legal action if he was terminated. He refused to make a public statement about his departure from his leadership role and opposed those who rightfully confronted him and removed him from his position. His marriage ultimately failed and his leadership role was lost.
Because the first man took full responsibility for his actions and demonstrated humility through the resignation process, his church responded with significant support for him and his family. They paid for him and his wife to go to an intensive marriage counseling retreat center. They also continued his salary and benefits for several months to assist his transition. The church insisted he remain a member and surrounded him and his wife with accountability partners to support them while they healed. Today, that former minister is a committed lay leader in the same church. His marriage is intact and healthy.
After observing these two situations for several years, its apparent one key decision defined these very different outcomes. The first minister admitted his mistake and took full responsibility for his actions. The second did neither. This was the predominant determining factor in how their followers responded to them and in the ultimate conclusion reached in each situation.
Whether you have made a bad leadership decision or a sinful choice as a leader, the first step to rectifying the situation is taking full responsibility for your actions. If you did it, own up to it. Don’t do some kind of creative, two-step shuffle trying to deflect blame. Take responsibility for your mistakes.
And, extending this a bit, take responsibility for what happens on your watch. One fellow has this magnetic sign on his truck: “Every day in the Navy was like Sunday on the farm.” It’s clear he loved his time in the Navy! When asked why, he said, “The discipline. I grew up wild, thinking I was a real tough guy. The Navy taught me to take responsibility and showed me how a strong man really acts. In the Navy, you take responsibility for what you do and for what happens on your watch.”
On your watch. Good leaders take responsibility for their actions, and for things that happen on their watch. This is countercultural today in a litigious society where people blame others for every mistake or problem. People treat their attorneys like side arms and draw them at the slightest provocation. Real leaders take responsibility for their actions, resisting the temptation to shift blame to others. By doing so, anger is diffused and forgiveness and restoration become possible.
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Dealing with Disappointment
October 12, 2009
The following is an excerpt from my new book, The Painful Side of Leadership
How do you feel when you pour your whole heart into a project or a person and the results simply don’t measure up to your expectations? Disappointed! It’s particularly painful when you are
sure God directed you toward a specific goal. You may find yourself questioning your competence and capacity to hear from God, as well as your leadership ability. One pastor worked for several months preparing his church for a $20 million building campaign. The church had a history of financial success, he was at the peak of a long tenure, and the church was healthy by every known measurement. He was sure of the goal, confident in the campaign process and leaders, and believed God directed them to do it. Yet, only $6 million was pledged. While most of us would be
thrilled by raising that much money, he was disappointed.
Disappointment is a result of unmet expectations, not measuring of actual performance. If you were expecting 100 teenagers at a youth event and only 50 showed up, you would probably be disappointed. Never mind 50 teenagers were positively impacted. The discrepancy between what we hope for and what happens is the “expectation gap.” It’s the feeling the bottom has dropped out from under you, that sinking feeling you get when life isn’t measuring up to what you hoped for.
It can happen with events and projects, but also with people. We expect people to respond and change as we minister to them. I once met a man weekly, for more than a year, trying to help him improve his ministry skills. When we were together, he seemed responsive. But he was like the Pillsbury Doughboy. When I was pressing him, he would feel the impact and promise to change. But when I left, he reverted to his former habits. My investment in him made an impression, but no permanent change resulted. After a year, I gave up – disappointed and frustrated I had spent so much time with a person who was ultimately unwilling to change.
Unmet expectations can also produce feelings of failure. As a leader, you have probably achieved a measure of success in some endeavor – whether it’s with a project or a person – but because all your expectations weren’t met, you felt like a failure. Feelings of failure (just like disappointment) often result from perceived levels of success or accomplishment, rather than by measuring actual performance.
The first time I was asked to speak on dealing with disappointment and failure, the request took a humorous turn. A college group, with no money to pay a speaker, wanted me to come. Attempting to compliment me and convince me to come at my expense, their leader said, “We really want you to come. You are a good speaker. We think you can really help us deal with a difficult subject for students. We think you are perfect for this subject – how to handle failure.”
How encouraging! I was the perfect speaker because I was a failure expert. I had a good time teasing the leader, and later the group, on his smooth approach to convince me to come by labeling me The Failure Expert. What a compliment!
But frankly, when I received his invitation, I felt more like a failure than he realized. My level of ministerial disappointment was at an all time high. I was, at the time, a church planter – need I say more?
We had set an attendance goal of 200 for our first worship service. We spent a lot of money, invested a huge amount of time, and prayed hard for the results. Only 92 people showed up the first Sunday, and then only 60 came back the second week. At that rate, I thought, “We will be out of business in two more Sundays.” We had worked hard, prayed much, and invested thousands of dollars with disappointing results.
We then revised our goal to have 200 attendees on Easter Sunday – about six months later. Again, we worked, prayed, and gave all we had to the effort. Only about 125 showed up. More disappointment! It was more than two years of hard work and prayer before we finally reached our attendance goal of 200.
Throughout those two years, there were many disappointing events, outreach projects, evangelism efforts, and ministry projects. The worst one was Banker’s Day. It was so bad, I won’t write the details lest you attempt something similar, convinced you can make a bad idea work. Banker’s Day was a complete failure. Not one single person came. Not one. Nada. Nobody. Zero. Zilch. A complete goose egg.
Disappointing circumstances include instances where you have done your best – with a project or a person – and had less than hoped for results. These are instances when you followed God’s plan as best you understood it, with poor results. This doesn’t include circumstances you caused by poor leadership decisions or sinful choices. This chapter is about what happens when you do your best, with pure motives, to find and do God’s will, but the results leave you disappointed. God uses your disappointments in the following ways (check out the book for the details!).
One, our disappointments share the sufferings of Jesus.
Two, our disappointments reveal misplaced affections.
Three, our disappointments equip us to comfort others.
Four, our disappointments guide us to better options.
Five, our disappointments create a longing for heaven.
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Managing Your Emotions
October 5, 2009
The following is an excerpt from my new book, The Painful Side of Leadership
Leaders are usually passionate men and women. We feel deeply. Our work and our followers matter a great deal to us. We are emotionally connected to the people we lead. We love them, not in a superficial or maudlin way, but genuinely. Christian leadership involves sacrifice. We know this when we accept our calling and are more than willing to expend ourselves for the good of our followers and the advance of God’s kingdom. But, expending ourselves leads to emotional depletion. Tired people, even tired Christian leaders, are susceptible to frustration and depression. Emotional depletion makes us vulnerable to being controlled by negative emotions.
Perhaps the most troublesome emotion for leaders to manage is anger. Why do leaders get angry? Anger is caused by threat or a perceived threat. When we feel threatened, whether the threat is real or imagined, we often lash out in anger. Threats to our self or personhood can take many forms. For example, when someone cuts you off in traffic, your physical-self is threatened so you yell in anger. When someone treats your child unfairly, your extended-self is threatened and you react angrily. When someone makes fun of your weight or the size of your nose, your self-esteem is threatened and you feel angry.
In leadership situations, when someone questions your decisions your professional identity may feel threatened. When a person opposes your vision, your dreams (an extension of who you are) may feel threatened. When a person criticizes your family, your extended-self comes under attack. All these examples illustrate this principle: Anger is a response to threat or perceived threat. Lowering our threat level through developing security in Jesus Christ is essential for leaders. The security of the believer must become a personal reality, not simply a doctrine to debate.
Sometimes, the pain we feel in leadership relationships is caused by our angry reactions to the sins of others and the trouble they cause us. That reaction is often rooted in the complications the actions cause, not because of the sin itself. For example, when a deacon was accused of child abuse, one leader’s first reaction was, “I can’t believe he did this to our church.” He was more angry the sin had been discovered and he would have to deal with its implications in the church than he was a child had been violated. That was misplaced anger!
Anger is not the only emotion leaders struggle to manage – just the most troublesome. We also struggle with fear, discouragement, and a nagging sense of inadequacy. We deal with grieving people, and often don’t acknowledge our grief and properly work through the associated emotions. This emotional depletion can lead to depression, blue Mondays that linger day-after-day without respite. Learning to manage our emotions, to take care of ourselves so we have something to offer others, is a required discipline for ministry leaders.
Leaders must also learn to manage, even encourage, positive expressions of emotion. It’s fun to celebrate! Some leaders don’t allow for much happiness around them. “This is serious business,” is their attitude as they project a joy-killing sterility about their work. These leaders need to learn to manage their emotions at the other end of the scale from anger, fear, and discouragement. They need to learn to enjoy the success and progress they experience, to revel in God’s blessing and celebrate achievements he enables.
I once recounted a ministry success to a mentor and then said, “Now we are….” He cut me off. “Wait a minute,” he asked, “when are you going to lead your church to celebrate their achievement?” That was a great question. I was embarrassed to admit, until that moment, it had never occurred to me to lead anyone to celebrate anything. Accomplishments were just boxes to check on my endless to do list – nothing more.
Managing emotions means you acknowledge negative emotions like anger and learn to express them appropriately. It also means you allow positive emotions to flow, to enjoy life with your followers. Managing your emotions means you are transparent without being cathartic, acknowledging both the highs and lows you experience as a leader. But it also means you aren’t controlled by your emotions. You value emotions, good and bad feelings, as part of life – but not the determining factor in your behavior.
Learning to manage your emotions requires spiritual discipline and psychological stability. It isn’t denying or suppressing emotions, but learning to acknowledge them and their appropriate role in relationships. Making choices about your emotions reveals maturity. Value your feelings but trust something deeper – Spirit-empowered, willful, personal choice – to control your actions as a leader.
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