I went to seminary because I had some questions about God and faith and how to live an authentic life. I hoped to wrestle with life's deep questions. I thought that maybe these seminary professors--or "professional wrestlers"--would have some thoughts on how to do this well. I planned to get my MDiv and then go on to get a PhD in theology.
But seminaries have a goal, too: to shape spiritual leaders. They have a bunch of stuff to teach future leaders--stuff about the Bible and Church History and Liturgy and Theology. Before I knew it, I emerged from the other end of the process a bonified "spiritual leader" with stuff to pass on to other people.
As a spiritual leader, I wrestled with how to lead. I had all this "stuff" I was supposed to teach people. The congregations I served didn't seem interested in that theology stuff. They wanted me to be a helper--help them through sickness, grieving, worries, and a few celebrations. They needed me to pray for and with them. Mostly, they just wanted me to be present. In my "leadership" gut, I wanted church to be a place where everyone could wrestle with life's deep questions and learn how to live into God's call for their lives. You can imagine the challenges we faced! Each of us had our own view of what a good spiritual leader looked like
This summer I celebrate my 17th anniversary of ordination. As a spiritual leader, I am doing just what I wanted to do from the beginning: wrestling with life's deep questions and supporting others in becoming who God has called them to be. But as I consult with congregations and coach spiritual leaders, I still see the challenges of mixed agendas. What should a spiritual leader do? Teach the God stuff? Help the poor and helpless? Support people in becoming more of who God calls them to be? All of the above? None of the above? Or maybe, "Depends on the situation"?
After all of these years, it is easier to see what doesn't seem to work. Leaders who do too much and teach too much and help too much create cultures of dependence. The overfunctioning of the leader leaves little room for the congregation to function creatively. Or maybe it is the reverse: the leader overfunctions in response to a congregation who does not function, who acts helpless. Chicken or egg. Either way, it does not work. Congregations (and leaders) become stale in this kind of environment. Leadership becomes about protecting the status quo and, as Carol mentions, keeping order.
So what works? I don't have a formula--I don't think one exists. I do see some characteristics of creative, healthy spiritual leaders.
Healthy leaders ...
*seek to live out God's call for their lives. (A note: God should not be confused with the desires of the Bishop, the congregation's president, or even one's mother.)
*are generously present with people, without an agenda or the need to be the "expert."
*engage with people, ideas, and situations.
*learn continuously.
*are engaged in their own spiritual journey.
*have a vision and encourage other people to have and voice their visions.
*encourage and support and challenge other people in living out God's call for their lives. They are permission givers and cheerleaders to other people.
As I look at this list, I think about the leaders I have known. Some have been pastors. But just as often, they have been life coaches and dance teachers and therapists and friends. I amseeking stories of healty, creative spiritual leadership--both inside and outside the church. What does it look like? How do creative leaders behave?
Many of the leaders who have been powerful witnesses to me were people who left the church because the church could not "hold" their work. The church and the clergy must become better at recognizing and supporting and engaging and encouraging the leadership of all people. Banker, therapist, social worker, CEO, teacher, police officer, mail carrier: we are all spiritual leaders. We are ALL called to be good news.