Friday, July 05, 2002
The annyoing splinter in my eye . . .
As the ups and downs of working in a modern church continue, I've come to realize that one of the central problems in any system - failing or thriving - is comfort in the status quo. Comfort causes us to settle in and settle down. Then we begin to settle for weakness and immaturity. Soon after settling for it, we cease to confront it. Even when we're encouraging others to grow, it's a weak sort of encouragement, like the kind we give to high school students - "Enjoy this time of your life . . . this is the most fun you'll ever have." When we say lame things like this, we are admitting that we've settled, that life is not fun anymore, and that we are basically impotent in every way possible.
This week, I'm experiencing the consequences of having failed to confront weakness and immaturity. I as a member of a leadership team in the church have failed to strongly and lovingly tell people to grow up and quit acting like babies. I have gently nudged them in right directions, but in all but a few cases I have not come right out and told them, "You are being prideful, and you're causing damage to yourself and the body of Christ, so stop it now." A worship pastor prospect who seems to be a very good fit with where our church is now, but more importantly, where we need to be, said no to our job offer this week. The church had given him a 99% yes vote, and he said no. Why? Because a few people insisted on acting like selfish brats and refused to work with him, and he didn't want to deal with them. 99% were in agreement about the will of God for our church, and I (and my fellow leaders) failed to rescue the 1% from themselves. Now the church as a whole will pay the price.
I am angry at the selfishness of the 1%. But I can't get beyond my own weakness. Instead of helping people grow by firmly saying, "You're blowing it," I've let them get by because I "didn't want to hurt their feelings." In truth, I didn't want to make myself uncomfortable by confronting them. And so instead of doing the right thing, I co-signed their foolishness and became an impotent leader. I am being hard on myself here because I've been so soft on myself and others everywhere else. This is my confession, and my commitment to change.
I'm tired of settling. I will have as much fun as I had in high school. No, I will have more fun. I will be a strong leader. I will not apologize for doing the right thing. I will not fear hurting feelings. I will be real again.
That's all.