Tag Archives: leadership

Chapter 5: obedience

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The first degree of humility is prompt obedience.

Why should I listen?

There is a myth that ‘millennials’ (my generation who have grown up saddling the millennium) have no respect for authority. In reality I think we do have respect for authority but the authority must be earned before it can be trusted. This does lead to many of us dismissing first instances of authority, particularly if it is enforced with rigor; this is a dangerous tendency. Our primary authority is no longer in older figures, previous generations but rather in peers; this is an even greater danger for what it leads to is a narcissistic, blind belief in our own power, understanding and un-walked wisdom.

Blogger, Anna Mussmann, has written a really interesting critique on culture using the young adult fiction which is popular. The article is called ‘Millenials Think Authority Figures Are Untrustworthy Idiots, And Modern Culture Is To Blame’ and takes stories such as Hunger Games, Finding Nemo and Splendors and Glooms to explore what these books have taught and continue to teach us growing up in this culture. Mussmann argues,

…when young adult fiction encourages reliance on transitory, peer-based relationships, it casts off the unifying role that classic literature once played. Our stories no longer bind multiple generations together. Instead they divide them… we even structure young people’s lives in ways that decrease adult influence and increase peer culture: our children are separated by age at school and attend age-specific youth programs at church (often never participating in traditional services that are designed for all-ages). They listen to their own music and text in their own language. The qualities which unify a culture, such as music, etiquette rules, and stories, are all things of which youth have their own.

This article is fascinating when considering my own attitude to obedience to authority figures of older generations. The issue, in my eyes, is always with them. This is an unhealthy reaction to many older people who have lived and experienced many things. I don’t want to dismiss my generation too quickly though. I do feel there’s always been an earning of trust and some blame must fall onto the previous generation who, after dismissing their parents for the mess of two world wars and the violent climax of enlightenment and modernism, felt they should never impose obedience on their children. In this context is it any wonder that young people today have little to no moral compass to guide them through the chaotic adolescence.

If you are a regular reader of my blog then you will know that over the last two or three years I have been increasingly vocal about ethics and virtues and the nature of moral discussions (read On Secularism, The Hunch, The Compulsion and The Overwhelming Pain, The Pope is Dust Just Like You and There is No Majority). The heady mix of my generation with my parents’ generation when running a society, is a cocktail for increasingly isolated people with highly subjective opinions to right and wrong trying to co-habit a claustrophobic space which leads inevitably to an increase in violence, physical and political. Our politic is broken because we have taken a shared narrative away and allowed a vacuum to be created. We now happily worship the absence in true nihilistic fashion.

Many young adults, especially those from the less affluent backgrounds, feel that they live in a world where family and community have eroded to the point of dysfunction. Personal loyalty may be their only hope in a dark, chaotic, and existential world. This kind of loyalty is the same moral value on which both gangs and tribes are built, and in many ways, our culture encourages a new kind of clique-like tribalism. Paradoxically, however, such loyalty is also constantly mutating, because our peer-oriented relationships (friendships and marriages) are self-chosen and therefore dissolvable. In real life the group loyalties break and reconfigure under strain. Such single-generation tribalism is also incredibly narrow. G. K. Chesterton argues that families are far more broadening than self-chosen companions because they force individuals to learn to understand many kinds of people. (Anna Mussmann, ‘Millenials Think Authority Figures Are Untrustworthy Idiots, And Modern Culture Is To Blame’, The Federalist, February 4th 2014, http://thefederalist.com/2014/01/23/millennials-think-authority-figures-are-untrustworthy-idiots-and-modern-culture-is-to-blame/)

Through this millennial lens I read St. Benedict’s words on obedience. I have explored in the previous weeks the role and nature of the abbot and have wrestled personally with my own attitude to the leader figure. I would argue that it is right, at this time, to reshape our understanding of leadership to fit the culture. In order to do that a leader must become an advocate to the people under his/her authority and we should embrace a more flat leadership model, organic in nature. This does not mean that the leader must become a friend, homogenous to the group, for that complicates the role of wisdom and obedience needed in order for personal and communal growth to occur. Authority is needed and it must remain external to the self. Tribalism is not a healthy way to exist but there are elements of it that should be encouraged; togetherness, sociality, loyalty but in Narnia this balance between friendship and authority is beautifully portrayed in the character of Aslan who remains aloof and separate from the children who must negotiate the strange and dangerous world of Narnia. I return again to the model of the ensemble theatre company; there is a sharing of leadership and direction but the role of the director becomes one of facilitator and ‘story-keeper’. This role ensures that authority is named and placed in a specific place. The challenge comes when the person who takes on that role mis-uses it. This is why the selection of such a person must come from the group and is placed on them through a sense of vocation and discerned calling.

Aslan’s style is to be alongside, encouraging but at times to demand the respect and authority to, enigmatically at times, to guide the children into strange and unknown experiences. The children do not understand why at the time but they are encouraged to trust the authority of figure to do it anyway. My generation would instinctively baulk at such suggestion,

Why should we?

Who does he think he is?

He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know what’s good for me.

When I think of my personal authority figures, the ones who know me and guide me and whom I respect and obey, most of them are of a previous generation. They have earned my trust but remain separate enough from me to be able to command me and my will.

The church, I feel, must reflect on this cultural issue seriously when we discuss the nature of leadership and authority. There needs to be an overhaul of our images and models of leadership and I am increasingly convinced that we must return to a ‘priestly’ model where reconciliation and spiritual depth are primary roles. Obedience is demanded like Jesus demanded it; not by His words first but by His character. He was obviously a man who commanded attention but where it came from, no one could tell. Jesus, of course, is unique but as priest’s we are called to be His ambassadors in His Body, the Church. We are called to stand in His place between people and places, heaven and earth. We are to follow Him closely to encourage the people of God to do likewise. We must commit our lives to being lead by our Master in obedience and to speak the commands we follow to those whom God calls us to.
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Sacrificial Obedience

Not satisfied with calling the monks to obedience, St. Benedict takes it one step further and asks them to do so ‘without fear, laziness, hesitance or protest.’

Orders should be carried out cheerfully…God will not be pleased by the monk who obeys grudgingly, not only murmuring in words but even in his heart.

I am guilty of saying that I am happy to obey authority but doing so questioningly and with reservation. I act, in line with commands, suspiciously or creatively twisting the will of my superior to fit my own desires and will. St. Benedict is clear that true spiritual growth will occur when ‘These disciples must obediently step lively to the commanding voice – giving up their possessions, and their own will.’

I’m not sure if what I am about to suggest is skewed by my generational attitude to authority but I wonder if there’s an understanding here that the abbott himself is under the authority of the Rule and, prior to being called to the role of abbott has shown himself obedient to it. Thus his authority has been proved through his own discipleship. I wonder if his own discipleship and obedience must remain the hallmark of his leadership. The abbott must, in this understanding, follow and imitate Jesus, his Master, who followed and imitated His Father.

Reflection

This week’s chapter has cut to the heart of some personal issues for me and I am convicted to pray through my attitude. There is a sense in which it is a nudging back in line with God’s will and not a whole hearted overhaul. In parish ministry at this time there is a large confusion about right and healthy distinctions between ordained ministers and laity. In the past there has been some devastating situations caused by those in authority in the church and this has destroyed much of the Church’s authority. To destroy the whole thing and dismiss the tradition is too risky and dangerous and is akin to throwing ‘the baby out with the bath water’. There is such a call to wisdom but, unfortunately, my generation in this culutre will struggle to find wisdom for we no longer ascribe to a shared cultural narrative and to any virtues of character. The characters we share are story-less, peer-guided and self selected. With no wisdom this self-selection is vacuuous and vapour and we will lead ourselves ever darker into the abyss of nihilistic existence.

Lord have mercy upon us all.

Come, Lord Jesus.

In The Minster (part II)

They all gather in the locker room, their kits hung ready for the event. The banter flies freely and the regular rituals begin. Theirs positioning, roles and tactics are explained and they prepare themselves to go out and ‘perform’…
I am talking, of course, of the scenes before a service at York Minster!

From my privileged position as placement student (or ‘interloper’, ‘apprentice’, ‘dogs-body’ and any other term to use to describe my temporary role at the Minster) I have watched the daily routine of services with the usual processionary positioning, reading allocations and general choreography. All of which have a more than fleeting similarity to those of a football match, except there’s no ‘opposition’! I can’t seem to fully sign up with the need for such detail and the rubrics (the written guides for how worship may be done.) I understand the need for order and guidelines to stop worship and public expressions of faith becoming sloppy and incoherent, ‘un-Common Worship’ would divide rather than bring some gravitational unity. What is sometimes communicated, however, is that legislation is keeping some people in positions of glory and power who should be the symbol of humility.

Take the interesting issue of having specific seats marked for Canons in the Cathedral (at the heights overlooking the congregation.) What could be communicated is they get reserved seating because they are important. Immediately the Scripture

‘…do not sit down in a place of honour… but when you are invited, take the lowest place’ (Luke 14:8,10)

I understand and can appreciate the many facets of this issue; what are the places of honour and how are they distinguished? The seats are at the back and not the front, for example. I am aware of the need for those members of the community to have a sense of ‘home’ in the place of prayer; to not be distracted in prayer by the interest on who’s sat where. It may come down to the way a position is treated and understood. The seat marked ‘Dean’ is seen as, perhaps, the best seat because it is designated for the Dean, a perceived position of power. When the Dean sits there (most services because it’s his ‘church’) people see that as him sitting in the position of power but actually people are judging the role and not the position.

This is particularly interesting when you consider the ‘role’ of priest within a congregation.

As many regular readers will know I have a both a high view of priesthood (sacramentally) but a low view of individual ‘leadership’. My time here at York Minster has helped me to articulate the exact call on me to be a ‘priest’. I have had for a long time a need to reject the ‘leader’ title because I don’t see that call in the New Testament nor the benefits of designating one person to decide and direct a group of people. What is communicated in leadership manuals and guides is a leader who is coming up with ideas and influencing people’s decisions. The language is slippery and falls into dubious responses to collaboration. I want more clarity in our use of leadership language.

For me a good ‘leader’ is a faithful ‘follower’. Jesus has called me to be a disciple and a servant of people. A servant rarely speaks to their master in a dominating manner, demanding their views to be heard; they may be asked for opinion but they are not there to offer it, necessarily. How do we exercise wise counsel in a radical flat leadership style?

Take the practical example of the chapter here at York Minster. The chapter is the governing body of the cathedral and is made up of clergy, administrative staff and laity. It is the chapter who make the decisions on how the cathedral is run and what responses or activities to make and engage with. The Dean is the ‘leader’ of the chapter. What may be inferred by this is that he is in charge; he makes decisions and holds the power. The impression I get and what I’ve been told by members of the chapter is that he is one among equals. His seat in the Chapter House is deliberately not central; it is not different from any of the other seats there. He is not positioned in a favourable place to ensure he is the focus. He has no deciding vote on issues. When I described this impression to his wife she immediately said, “But the buck ends with him!”

This is essential to my understanding of priestly leadership (if such a term could be coined!) A priest is an ambassador for Christ; someone who, by their life and discipleship calls the people of God to be Christ-like as they are Christ-like. Christ was a servant who lead as a servant. This radical and baffling paradox is perfectly shown in His journey to the cross. Christ followed the will of those he served to death. John’s prologue speaks of His people not accepting Him and nailing Him to the cross. Christ took the consequences of the decisions made by His people even if He may not, individually, have wanted Himself. We’re discussing issues of willingness to be crucified and I want to emphasise Christ was willing to do it because He was committed to being lead by the actions of His people, whatever form that takes.

Let me de-theologise this and use a hypothetical situation in a hypothetical chapter with a hypothetical Dean. This Dean is sat in a chapter meeting and a decision needs to be made about disruptive members of the community in worship. The Dean, personally thinks they should remain and not be abandoned. The chapter are tired of trying to deal with the disruptive member and wants them to pass them onto a parish church. The Dean knows that if they reject this member of the congregation that the press, the community and the local people will be very upset and angry. The vote is taken and the chapter votes majoritively to sensitively send the member elsewhere.

The Dean, as figure-head and spokesperson of the chapter, communicates this decision to the public despite him, personally, believing there’s another way. He, as figurehead and spokesperson of the chapter, also commits himself to suffer the consequences of that chosen action; taking the brunt of the ‘backlash’ on himself. Is this not a sacrificial act of servanthood? Is this not part of priestly ministry? To be a priestly leader is to be nothing more than a spokesperson and figurehead of a community.

This is not to say that as a priestly leader you do not state an opinion nor hold a position on matters but to follow Christ before the need to lead in a traditional sense is to die to your own opinion to serve others. This is painful and uncomfortable but it is this model of leadership that is being called upon us as disciples of Christ. No wonder Paul warns those who have positions of ‘authority’. This is the distinguishing mark, for me, from secular leadership.

So back to the Minster and positions of power!

The Dean, the canons and, for a time, I will sit in the places designated to us for a whole range of reasons, some good and some bad. It does not matter where we sit, however, but rather the attitude and the manner in which we sit there. A  position of power must be held by someone but it can and should be held by someone who seeks always to take the consequences of actions made by that role before the need to exert influence from it.

This has wider implications on how I see myself as a future priest but I have taken up too much time already! Must go and reflect on Archbishop Rowan Williams address to Synod which I believe covers lots of these issues and more on how we speak of ‘church’. I’ll try and link it more with theatre as this blogs remit is straying too much from that passion!