Parish

The sphere of our spiritual leadership then extends further, to the realm of the parish. Up front, I’ll say that I have no intention of telling others how to lead their parishes. Ultimately, the decisions made by the priest in exercising spiritual leadership over his parish must be made in close consultation with his bishop.

The parish poses a different situation when compared to exercising spiritual leadership over one’s self or over one’s household, and it comes about because the faithful of our parish are there of their own volition. The priest is appointed as the spiritual leader of the parish, but that does not mean that the faithful of the parish will place themselves fully under his leadership in every instance. In practical terms, this means that extending spiritual leadership will require healthy amounts of suasion and trust. The priest who attempts to lead by giving directions accompanied by “because I am the priest” will almost certainly fail.

Trust is central to the furthering of the priest’s spiritual leadership in the parish, but it is something that has to be cultivated carefully over time. We must begin with the “little” tasks. First among those is that we must do what we say we will do. It is trivially easy to promise to do something (especially at coffee hour, even though our minds are distracted by the competing needs to visit with our parishioners, to eat, to meet newcomers). It is much harder to carry it out. How do we solve this as a practical matter? There are several options. The priest can either carry a small notebook to record such promises, or make it a blanket rule that such requests should be made via email or the next day, without the distractions of the trapeza or the mental fatigue that comes from serving the liturgy. Beware the danger of committing to too much, for it leads to shoddy work, frustration, blown expectations, burnout, and loss of trust.

Building trust also requires establishing competence and setting standards. If we want to be seen as trustworthy when it comes to “managing” the administrative aspect of our parishes, we must show that we do not regard mundane but important tasks too casually. For example, the recording of parish giving is vital. We must be firm in our expectation that financial standards be followed. If we do not understand basic accounting standards, we must undertake to learn them. (Give thanks for Accounting for Dummies and Bookkeeping for Dummies!) In other cases, we demonstrate our competence by acknowledging our deficiencies to others (“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand a thing about paving.”) and allowing those with expertise to guide our decisions without any sense that doing so somehow diminishes us as the priest. (Reminder: such feelings come from pride.)

After all, if we are not willing to acknowledge our deficiencies in areas such as this, how can the faithful know to trust us with their confessions? Bringing one’s sins to light in the presence of someone else requires a great deal of trust, particularly that the father-confessor will not reveal those to others and that the father-confessor will respond with an appropriate medicine to help with the sin. Note that I am not speaking of the specifics of how to hear confession, or what kind of guidance to provide penitents, but only to say that exercising such spiritual leadership requires copious amounts of trust that is developed only in the broader scope of demonstrated competence elsewhere.

But spiritual leadership also means that we must ensure that we are not set up as exalted figures to our faithful. We wish to exercise leadership, not absolute control that is more in line with a cult leader. Thus, we must also balance the image of ourselves as priests with our image as human beings. In no small way this means avoiding that special short-list of saints again. We must willing to disclose our specific gifts to the faithful, even if it’s something worldly like car repair or basketball rather than something of an imaginary list of gifts we do not possess.

I am generally unnerved by the small number of priests I know that seem to have accumulated “groupies.” It’s not much more than a form of infatuation, but it ultimately causes great harm when the sins and weaknesses of the priest eventually manifest themselves to his followers. Too often these individuals fall away, at least for a time, disillusioned and disappointed in what they have come to see. It would have been far better for the leader to have his weaknesses known, and to lead in spite of them, then for such a false image to have been presented and then shattered into pieces. As St. Paul says,

And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure. Concerning this thing, I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me. And he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  –1 Cor 12:7-9

In extending his spiritual leadership, the parish leader has to be attuned to those developments in parish life that lead to burnout or, worse, the hatred of God. This happens in a variety of ways: church scandal, political infighting, disagreements over church financial priorities, and, in some cases, a parish worship cycle that places too great a burden on too few people. It’s rare that someone would be so bold as to say “I hate God,” but perhaps they’ll say, “I’m just sick of Church.” The seeds of an ambivalent apostasy are found in such statements. I have experienced it myself, and it is only with great care from others that it is overcome. These situations must be handled with the greatest of pastoral sensitivity or the parish priest will find his spiritual leadership in quick decline.

I’ll close this particular section with words of Christ that I think all spiritual leaders are wise to remember:

Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. –Matthew 11:28-30

We must constantly evaluate our pastoral actions in view of this. Is what we propose to our flock adding to the burden (whether from pride, guilt, false expectation, or simple legalism) or taking from it? Only the latter extends spiritual influence in a lasting way.

Next time: Part V, The Community.

Family

Then there’s the matter of spiritual leadership within the family. Of course, I’m speaking mostly to the married clergy here, as that’s what I am familiar with myself.

The married priest lives in a constant tension. The tension can really be boiled down to the competing interests of what we can call the man’s first priesthood – namely his role as husband and father – and his second priesthood handling the Mysteries of God.

In my own experience and in talking with my brother clergy, perhaps the greatest challenge here is in avoiding the veneer of piety. A veneer is but a thin layer of one thing on top of something completely different. It can look good, but if it’s scratched, you can see through to the uglier stuff beneath. We must avoid the appearance of piety that is but a mask for impiety and dysfunction. After all, all of us who serve as clergy know we live in a fishbowl. There are seemingly as many opinions as people as to what makes a good priest. One natural, if wrong, response to the pressure of these criticisms is to give people what they ask for. For example, we hear from our critics (and then convince ourselves) that the priest’s kids should be absolutely well-behaved. So we cause ourselves endless aggravation trying to get our kids to act the way someone else wants them to act. I don’t know about you, but my kids don’t always do what I want them to do. Our critics tell us,”The priest’s kids should be at every service.” So we issue the decree that 100% service attendance is the requirement for our children, because our children are pious.

The priest’s wife also faces unrealistic expectations. She should be simultaneously attractive, modest, frugal, well-dressed, a bit frumpy, and ready for every situation. She is forever trying to figure out the right mix of dresses, shoes, hairstyles, dishes, and responses to intrusive questions so as to present the right image.

This solution, however, preserves that veneer of piety at the expense of the real thing. In the first place, it allows those who are sitting in judgment to become comfortable in their judgmentalism. This is not the kind of leadership the priest desires for himself. In the second place, and more significantly, it imposes a strictness on our own family that is not imposed because we as the priests of our household think it necessary, but because, in effect, someone else thinks it is. The fact is that our kids have other obligations, also known as “promises,” for some of their activities (e.g., being part of a team, band, or orchestra). We have to communicate that regular conflict with church services is not allowed, but the expectation that they never conflict is unrealistic. Our wives are people, too, with strengths, weaknesses, and, yes, needs that cannot be easily conformed to these competing images for what makes the perfect Priest’s Wife.

There are many valid places for strictness, but we must be mindful that severity can become the enemy of true piety. We know that the canons are not applied in absolutely rote fashion because their aim is not to penalize but to save. In the same fashion the priest of his family sets standards not in accordance with what other people think but with what he must discern is best for the spiritual development of his children and his wife, who is more often than not a co-laborer with him in his ministry.

Our kids encounter spiritual crises also, and we, as parents, must ensure that we do not lay too heavy a burden on them. We must also never forget that our children make a great contribution to our priesthood in their sharing of us—our time, our concerns, our financial situation—with many others. In making those contributions, they are silent intercessors in the parish and the home.

The priest’s wife merits special consideration because she has a primary responsibility of preserving the peace and harmony of the priest’s home while facing a barrage of spoken and unspoken expectations. How often does she hear the complaints about the man she loves, or bears the criticisms for the thankless job she performed when no one else would. She desires her husband’s presence, not to mention emotional intimacy, but must often set these desires aside while she discerns whether her sullen batushka is angry at her or simply weighed down with the sins of his ministry.  The best spiritual leadership in these circumstances is his regular scheduling (at least monthly) of a babysitter and a quiet evening with his beloved. At least one evening each week spent in quiet conversation, with some tea and perhaps some chocolate, with our wives provides a bountiful harvest.

Further, I know more than a few clergy marriages that have been greatly improved by the priest exercising a spiritual leadership of silence with regard to the discussion of parish conflicts with his wife. Spiritual leadership in this case means not adding burdens to someone who already bears many. Rather, let your brother clergy be the ones to help you bear the burden, to hear of your parish difficulties and to provide counsel when you need it.

With due consideration given to these issues, the priest is then able to extend his spiritual influence, and to increase the love and desire for Christ and his Church, within his own house rather than sowing the seeds of resentment and what might be called “spiritual exhaustion” there.

Next time: The Parish.

Where to begin?

It is axiomatic to say that the spiritual leader does not have the same influence everywhere. We know this intuitively. For the sake of this presentation, I’ll say that our influence is strongest starting with ourselves. From there, we see a still strong influence within our family, particularly among our wives and children, but the addition of wills begins to complicate things, occasionally attempting to frustrate our leadership. Stepping beyond that we reach our parishes, those communities of believers who have willingly placed themselves under our pastoral care, but by no means submitting themselves absolutely or blindly to our leadership. Finally, we reach our community, the broader areas where we live and work, where we are known perhaps as pastors and preachers, but without any kind of acknowledged leadership for all.

The remainder of this presentation is going to attempt to address some of the issues of leadership that arise in each sphere. I’ll give advice, but solely from the standpoint of personal experience (i.e., “this has worked for me”) or of personal weakness (i.e., “I really struggle with this problem.”). If anything strikes you as odd, I ask you to weigh it carefully, and, if necessary, I ask your forgiveness if what I say rings completely untrue to you.

Self

Our spiritual leadership has to start with ourselves. I think each of you knows this already. Personal spiritual leadership has to start with personal discipline. However, I’ll suggest to you that this personal discipline must go beyond “spiritual” discipline (which is to say “mental” discipline). After all, were we to focus on this spiritual dimension while deprecating the rest would make us dualists of a sort. Rather, I’ll be even bolder and suggest that personal discipline must really start with physical and general “life” discipline.

If you doubt this, consider St. Paul’s requirements for those who desire the office of bishop, for those who desire to lead the people of God.

A bishop then must be blameless, the husband of one wife, temperate, sober-minded, of good behavior, hospitable, able to teach; not given to wine, not violent, not greedy for money, but gentle, not quarrelsome, not covetous; one who rules his own house well, having his children in submission with all reverence…not a novice, lest being puffed up with pride he fall into the same condemnation as the devil. Moreover he must have a good testimony among those who are outside, lest he fall into reproach and the snare of the devil. 1 Tim 3:2-7

It is notable that this list doesn’t make mention of vague notions of spirituality, and even piety is only mentioned obliquely (“having his children in submission with all reverence”). Rather, it describes someone who “has it together.”

Further, I suspect most of you have had the experience of the young man who desires to advance in service to the Church, perhaps pursuing tonsure as a reader or subdeacon, and clearly desiring ordination to the major orders. He loves participating on the Orthodox internet, and perhaps delights in differentiating between worthy and unworthy priests. Yet, even a cursory inspection reveals his life to be in absolute disarray. He can’t hold a job. His bills are past due. There is general foolishness and perhaps even sexual sin in his life. His spiritual life is best served not by mastering the finer points of the Jesus Prayer, but in ordering his life according to the standard we set for the mature Christian. St. Paul asks the critical question here: “If a man does not know how to rule his own house, how will he take care of the church of God?” (1 Tim 3:5)

Christian leadership, then, is often best served by the application of discipline to our daily matters. We should begin with physical care, being circumspect about our diet, not as a matter of fasting but as a matter of respecting our bodies as temples of the Holy Spirit, battling temptations to overeat, to junk food, to excessive alcohol, and to sweets. We must maintain our hygiene, including dental care, so that this is never a stumbling block to others. Regular exercise. And, barring an exceptional calling such as that of St. John Maximovitch, getting enough sleep to avoid illness and an irritable disposition.

We should bring our finances into good order. Again, recall St. Paul’s exhortation that we be held in high regard by those around us. We should seek to live within a budget, knowing how much we spend and where.

Then there’s the matter that hits rather close to home for me: personal organization. If you’ve failed to contact someone because you lost their phone number (as I have), or forgotten something important because the random slip of paper wasn’t recorded on your calendar, this is something to take up. Missing an important appointment for reasons like this is more than a trivial mistake, but is rather a failure of leadership.

Likewise, time management is key. We must maintain the balance in our lives: allocating time for family, for wife, for sermon preparation, for shut-in visits, for services and confession. Too often, we run around doing things at the last minute, and, yet the responsibility for this lies with only one person, whom we can see in a mirror. Each of these represents stewardship of what God has entrusted to us. This life discipline is a fundamental aspect of spiritual leadership.

I would be remiss, though, if I never touched on spiritual discipline as a matter of personal spiritual leadership. We must lead in this way, too. We must first be diligent to avoid falling into the universal vision of piety trap I discussed at length just a bit ago. Doing that is guaranteed to make us feel inauthentic and hypocritical, because the result of it is that we are inauthentic when we try to present some kind of image of piety that we do not possess. Worse, it leads to despair and spiritual suffering for the leader who becomes mired in that narrow image.

Our spiritual discipline is to be a discipline rooted in the liturgical cycle of the Church. There is an opportunity to pray according to the designated times for communal prayer, even if abbreviated and done in private. The specific nature of how we do this will vary depending on our specific circumstances.

This is also an area where technology can help. We can make use of phones and calendars to give us those periodic reminders to pray throughout the day, for ourselves, and for specific people. I’ve made use of this to remember to pray for individuals and their physicians as they go into surgery, for example. One can buy recorded prayers (or record them yourself using your smartphone or computer) to use at various times during the day, especially when commuting.

Finally, at the level of the self, I want to emphasize the importance of accountability. Confession is a big part of this. Its role is easily summarized: Give confession and receive absolution regularly. But our need goes beyond a sacrament we often receive less than we really need. Rather, we require more frequent “check ins” with those who can ask us about our lives, both in those matters of life discipline as well as with regard to prayer. I have two or three people in my life who have a magnificent spiritual gift. That gift is the ability to deliver a carefully considered, and well-placed kick to the side of my head. In other words, they have the ability to hold be accountable to the standard of this holy office and to that of the mature Christian. I daresay we all need such people, and, as painful as it is sometimes, to rejoice when they carry out their gift for our benefit.

Next time: The family

I want to express my thanks to the fine clergy of the Western American Diocese, especially His Eminence, Archbishop Kyrill, for blessing me not only to speak at the clergy conference, but also for inviting me to participate in the rite of revesting the relics of St. John of Shanghai and San Francisco.

Defining the topic

Having introduced myself, I should say that this talk is not about me, but only observations and reflections concerning this topic of spiritual leadership. When I first began preparing this, I struggled somewhat, because, while I am a priest, a preacher, a servant of the Mysteries of God, and an intercessor for those around me, I do not see myself as particularly spiritual. In fact,an attempt to be what I held in my own mind as the image of “the spiritual person” led to a particularly acute period of spiritual malaise, anger, cynicism, and frustration in my own life.

Thus, I really want to emphasize that this presentation is about spiritual leadership, not spirituality. This is a good thing, as I’m sure there are at least a dozen people in this room who exceed my “spirituality,” if such a thing could ever be quantified.

Up front, we really have to address the idea of what spiritual leadership is. Defining “leadership” is always thorny, but the best general definition I’ve come across is that leadership is influence coupled with the expectation that it will be used. Leadership is what we observe when, at a parish council meeting, a question is asked and, after a short pause, all eyes fall on a single person. The others want that person to influence them, to show them where to go. Leadership is what we observe when our kids, having gotten into trouble or otherwise needing assistance, call us first, trusting that we can fix what they can’t. Leadership is what we see when the faithful come to us confessing their sins and seeking guidance and, even more importantly, those precious words of forgiveness.

Leadership becomes the ability to guide others into taking your lead, and, particularly in these moments of dependence, good leadership means that words must be carefully chosen so as not to violate the trust implicit therein. For those of us who serve as clergy, our desire should be that our spiritual leadership be, first, leadership coming from Christ and, secondly, that it be expanding. That is, true spiritual leadership naturally seeks to extend itself, not in order to puff itself up, but in order to manifest Christ in the world. Spiritual leadership is about mission and evangelism, which is nothing less than the spread of the Gospel of our Lord.

Leading with a flexible mind

Before going into specific spheres of influence, I want to make a simple assertion: There is no spirituality that is universal in its applicability. Put in a colloquial way: there is no “one size fits all” spirituality. Orthodox leaders in our particular context face a great temptation to see one particular kind of spiritual life as preferable to all others and, therefore, as the kind of spiritual life that all Orthodox Christians should seek. I am unsure of the exact reasons behind it, but there seem to be two general ways it works.

For some, they have a profound sense of the suffering of Orthodox Christians over the past century in particular, and the awareness of those priests and bishops who led under terrible conditions, praying, gathering, baptizing, and communing in secret. Such men labored mightily to avoid falling into sins of hatred and vengeance, and rejoicing at every tiny blessing. Thus, some fall into this view that all spirituality is to look like that spirituality. This, of course, fails to take into account that the myriad other charisms that established other forms of spirituality were significantly minimized if not persecuted out of existence entirely for a time.

For others, they either come to the Faith, or grow to maturity in the Faith, in the awe of saints such as St. Seraphim,or of St. Herman, or in the wisdom of the various monastic fathers from the famous places: Optina, Valaam, Athos, and so on. The vision of a patient, holy silence that has no need for earthly humor or family life takes hold.

I hold my suffering brethren, the martyrs and confessors, and the pious monks and nuns—spiritual warriors all—in the highest of regard, and realize that my own spiritual life pales absolutely in comparison with theirs. Their lives and writings are worth reading, for the edification and building up of the faithful of Christ.

However, as spiritual leaders we err greatly if we allow these fairly narrow visions of sanctity and piety, especially to the extent that our popular understanding makes them caricatures of the real thing, to take hold as the sole legitimate spiritual path.

St. Paul writes:

Now concerning spiritual gifts, brethren, I do not want you to be ignorant…. There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are differences of ministries, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of activities, but it is the same God who works all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the profit of all: for to one is given the word of wisdom through the Spirit, to another the word of knowledge through the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healings by the same Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another discerning of spirits, to another different kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. But one and the same Spirit works all these things, distributing to each one individually as He wills. 1 Cor 12:1,4-11

Or, if we don’t like that, we should consider some other words, namely those of the proskomede. Consider all those ranks of saints we commemorate there before every Liturgy:

1. The Theotokos – the one whose holiness and quiet piety we should all seek to emulate.
2. The Forerunner who prepared the way, speaking boldly, and losing his life for it.
3. Of all the prophets, who were alternately exalted and brought low for speaking God’s word to his people. Think especially on Jonah and David as prophets coupled the greatest of manifestations of God’s grace with, at times, profound flaws of character.
4. Of the holy Apostles, which are in themselves an absolute picture of the diversity of gifts and, perhaps more importantly, of weakness and sin. Consider St. Peter in his moments of greatness and of weakness, plus James and John “the sons of thunder”, compared to John, the disciple whom Jesus loved.
5. Of the holy hierarchs, among whom we have John Chrysostom and Basil the Great, but likewise Cyril of Alexandria, who was notable for the (ahem) rather heavy-handed way he dealt with his opponents. Others we know of by their brilliant articulation of the belief of the Church but who were rather less noteworthy for their effective episcopal leadership.
6. Of the holy martyrs, including several soldiers by name, and, by extension, those like St. Nestor whose hymns commemorate not his spiritual victories but his military ones.
7. Of the holy monks and nuns, most of whom need little introduction.
8. Of the holy unmercenary healers, a group that is often forgotten.
9. Of Joachim and Anna, and of the several equals to the apostles, who, in many cases, brought the Faith to people through translation, writing, and even imperial decree.

If there is anything negative in this list, I want it not to be construed as casting aspersions on our holy fathers and mothers in the Faith, but rather, to paraphrase St. Paul, “if he can save me, he can save you.” Which is to say, God’s strength is made manifest in weakness, and he works through the broad spectrum of the charisms he has bestowed upon his creation.

Our goal as spiritual leaders should be to help those who have placed themselves under our leadership to develop the gifts that they have. If we place a single vision of piety on them, we distort the fullness of Christ’s gifts to us. Worse, it leads to despair and, in some cases, even the loss of faith. Therefore, I return to the assertion that we must lead with a flexible mind, discerning the gifts and weaknesses inherent in each person given unto our care. As the canons themselves make clear, our goal is the salvation of the person, taking all of the factors into account:

It behooves those who have received from God the power to loose and bind, to consider the quality of the sin and the readiness of the sinner for conversion, and to apply medicine suitable for the disease, lest if he is injudicious in each of these respects he should fail in regard to the healing of the sick man. Trullo 102 (bottom of page)

Such discernment is not always easy, but it is absolutely necessary. It will also color how we go about interacting in the general spheres of leadership.

Next time: The first sphere of influence.

Some personal reflection on recent events as well as parish and mission development have led me to revisit the five levels of leadership (or see here) as posited by John Maxwell, a well-known leadership speaker and motivator. (Individuals love or hate John Maxwell, but the five levels in his scheme are well-supported in my own experience. Even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while?) I’d like to discuss how these levels play out in an Orthodox situation. The list below summarizes them.

The Five Levels of Leadership:

1. Position – People follow because they have to. That is, they recognize the “rank” of the leader, but with little other basis.
2. Permission – People follow because they want to. This is the “teamwork” level, where others follow the cues of the leader much as those who play team sports follow the team captain.  Those members who aspire to more will soon look elsewhere, though.
3. Production – People follow because of the leader’s contribution to the organization. The leader has made the organization successful. He is liked, and generates momentum to accomplish more.
4. People Development – People follow this leader because he develops them in line with their potential. The individual team member perceives the leader’s contributions personally (i.e., the leader’s contributions affect the individual personally, not just organizationally).
5. Pinnacle – The team follows the leader out of respect for what the leader represents. This level is achieved rarely, and only after long years of service. This is the kind of leader for which people will undertake extreme risk.

In an Orthodox setting, we struggle mightily with these levels. The Church is hierarchical, but that doesn’t always mean those in the hierarchy are “natural” leaders. Likewise, some of the faithful become leaders only in the crucible of extraordinary difficulty. (Look at the heroes from the scandals of Metropolitans Theodosius and Herman.) Such “weak” men and women become leaders only by the grace of the Holy Spirit and their constant cooperation with it through the seeking of God’s will and the kenotic act of risking reputation and wealth for the sake of righteousness. Our treasure is in earthen vessels, and that also applies to our leading clergy and laity, many of whom come from unlikely places. The difficulty lies in bringing the gifts of God to the surface, in order to manifest the treasure.

We are familiar with leaders, particularly priests, who struggle to get beyond level 1 in Maxwell’s hierarchy. The faithful accord such priests the basic respect of the office, politely hear their sermons (no matter how bad), go to them for confession and absolution, and partake of the Body and Blood administered by their hands. Indeed, these are the vital things of the Christian life, but the priest must not be reduced to little more than a vending machine for Sacraments. The relationship shouldn’t end there, with pious laity quietly tut-tutting about Father’s lack of [insert skill here]. Under these circumstances, the priest can find himself tossed aside, his spiritual authority confined to, rather than based upon, the Holy Table. Out of frustration, the priest asserts his priestly authority (qua priest), and bad things ensue, much as Metropolitan Jonah describes:

If you sit there and you lord it over your parishioners that ‘I am the priest and I can do whatever I want and I can spend the money however I want without accountability and without…’ you are not going to go very far. In fact you are likely to get thrown out because you will get into all sorts of problems.

The source of such a loss of real leadership authority can have multiple causes at the same time, but the core of the problem is the leader’s failure to advance beyond level 1, regardless of mitigating factors. In the realm of the Church, there are legitimate ways to do this (and see the questions below, where I ask you to think about them), as well as illegitimate ways, such as the “purchase” of loyalty through favors, cover-ups, and cold hard cash and the imposition of loyalty through punishment and abuse. We should all know about these illegitimate ways by now.

With these things in mind, I ask readers here some questions for reflection:

1. Where do you see Orthodox leaders reaching levels 4 and 5 in contemporary Orthodoxy, particularly in North America? Think of this as a moment for praising the good.
2. Where do you see Orthodox leaders stuck at level 1? Cite examples, but be constructive.
3. What is the way forward for us to see more of our leaders, clergy and lay, making it to levels 3 and 4? That is, what can these leaders do (or stop doing) to escape level 1?
4. What role does trust play in advancing through the levels? What about goodwill?

Sharing of your answers is encouraged. I hope to present some other thoughts on these questions, in the context of current events, very soon.

[UPDATE 5/28: I still prefer real names here, but, considering that this might make some would-be participants nervous with regard to this particular subject matter, pseudonyms are OK here. Please use a real email address (not shown to the public) and keep it constructive, please.]

I’ve not yet given it more than a cursory skim, but this looks like good stuff, if a bit too expansive for now. (Health screening programs? As a national initiative? Hmmm.) Individuals may disagree with the details of a particular plan, but actually having one is critical to the success of a project. Absent a plan, multiple visions compete for resources and attention, leading to division, disorganization, and stagnation.

Plans within institutional Church life, though, come together only slowly, and with great effort. A plan that originates with a single person (even if he’s the priest or a charismatic leader within the parish) is almost certainly doomed to failure, for it is in the collaboration, conversation, prayer, and effort of multiple people that a common vision emerges. This is a big distinction between Church planning and, for example, business planning. The latter is absolutely hierarchical (the boss with the bucks sets direction, for good or ill, based on what he chooses to fund and initiate), while the Church has to exist cooperatively. I’m not suggesting that the Church isn’t hierarchical, but the Church’s understanding of hierarchy is not identical with the world’s understanding of it. We know how well clerical directives given without lay support work out. This is not unexpected. Christ uses no compulsion or worldly might to draw men and women to himself, so we can’t expect his bride, the Church, to use those devices, either.

The distinction between a would-be visionary and the real thing is that the latter not only casts a vision, but also initiates the shared work of crafting a plan to bring it about by defining our human part of the cooperation between man and God. Plans crafted by individuals and then handed down as mandates are not visionary, but are, rather, coercive.

In the case of this particular draft, I’m greatly encouraged that a real SWOT analysis (Strengths/Weaknesses/Opportunities/Threats) was done, with the frank results appearing in this document. We always find it easy to hear our strengths and to talk about our opportunities, but speaking of weaknesses or real threats is a lot harder. An honest plan, though, must carefully weigh the downsides of (in)action and take them into consideration. Otherwise, it’s not an honest plan, but a “pie in the sky” plan.

I find it interesting that leadership development and a vision of theological education both found their way into this draft. I applaud the planning committee for focusing on ministerial priorities rather than organizational change, as noted explicitly in the cover letter.

I’ll have more to say about the plan after a more careful reading. All OL readers are encouraged to give it a look and add their comments below.

With that in mind, it seems to me that there’s a one-sidedness in our Orthodox pastoral preparation, similar to what Adams suggests is happening with “B students.” It’s an imbalance that favors the spiritual and intellectual development of pastors at the expense of learning the value of financial sophistication, prudent risk-taking, leadership cultivation, conflict management, and the basket of talents commonly known as “people skills.”

Recent changes in Orthodox seminary curricula (e.g., at St. Vladimir’s) are laudable for being steps in the right direction. The next step is to recognize that Orthodoxy is still a missionary faith in North America, which means that our pastors and lay leaders all need the kinds of skills of which Adams speaks in his essay above.  Adams identifies seven skills for an entrepreneur:

1. Combine skills
2. Fail forward
3. Find the action
4. Attract luck
5. Conquer fear
6. Write simply
7. Learn persuasion

We might balk at #4, with the complaint that “luck” has little to do with the Holy Spirit’s blessings on the Church, but a closer look at what he means by it has absolute applicability in our situation:

To succeed, first you must do something. And if that doesn’t work, which can be 90% of the time, do something else.

Now that sounds like a lot of people we know: Noah, Abraham, Moses, Naomi and Ruth, all the other prophets, the Apostles, and many other saints since.

The Orthodox leaders we need are those who can take risks, and can persuade others to take them too. They must be able to read balance sheets and to develop financial foundations that break free of the small-minded subsistence attitude plaguing so many of our parishes. They must see where to take their communities, beyond the existing Orthodox, into places where Orthodoxy isn’t known, and among men and women who we’ve ignored for too long. In other words, we need entrepreneurs in the Church if we are to carry out the Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20) instead of hunkering down, dithering and waiting for a “better day” that never comes.

Thus I ask, what is your parish doing to be entrepreneurial? What are you doing to be entrepreneurial in Christ’s Church? What would help you be more entrepreneurial?

A post from a few days ago included some excerpts from then-Bishop Jonah’s address at the last All-American Council. It is no overstatement to say that this address was the primary cause of the council delegates’ sending his name to the Holy Synod. In repudiating the corruption, the secrecy, the autocracy, and the paralysis that had come before, it proposed returning to an ancient image for leadership, in both style and substance, within the Orthodox Church in America.

Within that address, the line that garnered the greatest applause was the monumental declaration, “Authority is responsibility. Authority is accountability, it is not power.” However, another equivalency can be derived from +Jonah’s address: “Conciliarity is obedience.”

Consider then-Bishop Jonah’s words:

But the leadership that is within the Church, the leadership of bishops and the dioceses of the Metropolitan among the Synod–because what it the Metropolitan? He is the chairman of the Synod. The leadership of a parish priest in his parish: If you sit there and you lord it over your parishioners that ‘I am the priest and I can do whatever I want and I can spend the money however I want without accountability and without…’ you are not going to go very far. In fact you are likely to get thrown out because you will get into all sorts of problems.

…

“[Our leadership] has to be a voluntary cooperation. And obedience, within that context, is not some kind of, some guy, who can lord it over you and make you do what he wants you to and you are going to get in trouble one way or another. Obedience is cooperation out of love and respect.”

Using these statements as a basis, one can then say that proper Christian leadership is ascetic, inasmuch as it is a denial of self and the setting aside of personal desires in exchange for the edification (in Christ!), harmony, and cooperation (synergy) of the whole. This does not lead to democracy, for it does not represent a transfer of authority from one individual to many. Instead, it is an authority that finds its force in persuasion and meekness rather than in personal fiat or coercion, an authority working to achieve unity and harmony rather than discord and resentment. (For the record, meekness is not the quality of weakness, but rather the strength of bearing insult and injury without resentment and violence.)

It is in this spirit that our diocesan bishops, even the primate, promise to live in obedience to the Holy Synod. It is in this spirit that the OCA Statute describes the relationship between the parish priest and flock: “No activities in the parish can be initiated without his knowledge, approval, and blessing; neither should he do anything pertaining to the parish without the knowledge of his parishioners and parish organs elected by them, so that always and everywhere there may be unity, mutual trust, cooperation, and love.” (OCA Statute X.4) And if this applies to the priests, how much more should it apply to the bishops of the Church.

Of course, many of us already know of St. Ignatius’s exhortations that the faithful be obedient to the bishop and presbyters (priests), as demonstrated by his epistle to the Trallians (in but one instance among many):

…Let all reverence the deacons as an appointment of Jesus Christ, and the bishop as Jesus Christ, who is the Son of the Father, and the presbyters as the sanhedrim of God, and assembly of the apostles. –Ep. Trallians III

Not only is there the simple comparison of the bishop with Christ and the presbyters as the apostles, but there is also the depiction of the presbyters as the “Sanhedrin” of God(*), which is to say they form a consultative body established by the Holy Spirit, arrayed around the master. While the reading of St. Ignatius is complicated slightly by the difficulty of understanding the precise historical relationship between the offices of bishop and presbyter(**), the imagery is absolutely clear.

Further, in the same chapter, Ignatius emphasizes that the bishop’s authority is not wielded as a club (italics added):

For I have received the manifestation of your love, and still have it with me, in your bishop, whose very appearance is highly instructive, and his meekness of itself a power; whom I imagine even the ungodly must reverence.

Indeed, the life in imitation of Christ’s meekness is not the property of a single bishop, but is instead shared abroad among all those who hold the office. This life is led in a spirit of service that is willing not only to give spiritual admonishment but also to receive it from the lives and words of others (italics added):

I do not issue orders to you, as if I were some great person. For though I am bound for His name, I am not yet perfect in Jesus Christ. For now I begin to be a disciple, and I speak to you as my fellow-servants. For it was needful for me to have been admonished by you in faith, exhortation, patience, and long-suffering. But inasmuch as love suffers me not to be silent in regard to you, I have therefore taken upon me first to exhort you that ye would run together in accordance with the will of God. –Ep. Ephesians III

Conciliarity is obedience, according to both Metropolitan Jonah and St. Ignatius. For a bishop, this kind of conciliarity is maintained particularly by communion, reciprocity, and mutual consideration – “voluntary cooperation” in the Metropolitan’s words – with his brother bishops, and secondarily in the shared prayerful deliberation with his flock. If the parish priest is exhorted not to say, “I am the priest and I can do whatever I want and I can spend the money however I want without accountability and without…,” what exhortation is to be given to our hierarchs?

As for the applicability of this understanding in our current situation in the Orthodox Church in America, more on that soon.

(*)The Sanhedrin functioned as the supreme court of Jewish life.

(**) St. Ignatius maintains a greater distinction between the offices of bishop and presbyter than the New Testament and patristic writers before him, but the presence of at least one bishop in each city leads to a natural conclusion that an individual bishop’s authority had a narrower geographical scope in the post-apostolic period than now.