New Life Assembly

Be Yourself

It's harder than it sounds.  Believe me, I know.

I spent a good part of my early years as a pastor trying to be someone else.  I had great mentors in ministry who invested so much into my life, and were such godly examples for me to follow, that there were times I felt like I had to be them in order to be a good pastor.  I thought that if I didn't preach like they did, or lead like they did, that I would somehow end up as a pastoral failure.  Little did I understand that the more I tried to imitate them, the more I failed.

Not only did I have good mentors whose example and influence I valued, but I also had well-meaning folks in our church who had ideas about what I could do to be a better pastor.  Desperately wanting to please anyone and everyone led me to confuse leadership with popularity.  There were times I bent to those wishes, and then found that when I had, I still wasn't fully pleasing them.  There would always be something else.  I could never be "good enough". 

There were days that I thought, in the depths of my heart, that I couldn't keep meeting these pastoral demands.  There were days that I believed I had made a mistake when I embraced the call to pastor, days when I felt like I had made a mistake coming to New Life.  I was trying to please everyone except the only one who mattered, the one who had called me, gifted me, and prepared me for the purpose that only he could accomplish in me and through me.

I'm not sure when I turned the corner and stopped trying to be someone else.  One significant step in that direction was being involved in a mentoring network in the spring of 2005.  As part of that experience I took an assessment called Strengths Finder, which measured 5 areas of talent in my life.  In reflecting on those I started to understand how God had designed me, maybe even perfectly fit me for the role he had called me to at New Life.  I started to trust that God actually knew what he was doing by bringing me here.  I began to truly believe that if I leaned into him, and allowed him to have full rein working through me, that I might be more fulfilled, and that my ministry might actually be more fulfilling to those I was trying to lead.

Some days, I admit, I'm tempted to turn around the corner in reverse.  And then I remember that God has called me to lead this church; he has prepared me for the task.  In fact, just the other day I had a long conversation with God in which I allowed him to remind me that my only desire as a pastor is to please him.  My sole passion is that when I stand before him to give account for how I have lived my life, that he will be pleased with my faithfulness to his call.  Everything else will be consumed, only his call will remain.

Everyone will admit that they want to just "be themselves", but few seem willing to put in the effort required to take that path.  More of us seem willing to settle for people-pleasing and pacifying others we think are smarter or more powerful than we are.  Too many of us are willing to take the road of no resistance, no standing out, no risk, no pain.  But I've found that being yourself, in the truest sense, requires us to find all of our sufficiency, all of our value and all of our approval in God and him alone.  You could say that if you really want to find yourself, you must first lose yourself in the cross, and allow him to resurrect you for his purpose and glory in your life.  I learned to be myself when I learned to fully embrace who God created me to be, and to lead from that place.

When we next meet (I won't promise tomorrow, though I intend it...) I want to write about what drives me as a pastor:  people matter.

Ten Years Later

On Sunday our church took some time to honor Rita and me (and our kids) for Pastor's appreciation month.  I've always been humbled by the ways that the church has chosen to share their love and appreciation with us through the years.  In my heart, this one was particularly significant, because in a few days I will be marking my tenth year of ministry here at New Life.  I like symbolic milestones and always have, and there's something about 10 years that makes me pause, reflect, give thanks, and then turn towards the future for my life and ministry.  So over the next couple days I'm going to share some of what's changed in me and our church, and some lessons I've learned in 10 years as pastor of New Life.

In 1999 I was 24 years old, married for just over two years, and had been serving on staff at a church for just over a year.  We came to New Life at a time in her history when she was battered and bruised from several years of internal church conflict.  During that time many people had left, and the ones who stayed were weary and worn down from what was an emotional and spiritual battle.  It was not what anyone would describe as a dream job, and yet Rita and I both felt undeniably called to accept the responsibility of pastoring this church.

I had no real idea of what it would take to right the ship.  I don't think I knew it even 5 or 6 years into the process.  I was still trying to figure out who I was as a pastor and leader in the church.  I'm sure that in the process of my own growth and development I frustrated some who were trying to work with me.  I made my share of mistakes along the way.  I avoided conflict when I should have accepted it, and probably initiated some conflict when I should have avoided it.  I was overly timid at times, and sensitive to criticism at others.  I tried to please some, and (truth be told) actively tried not to please others. 

Through it all I kept holding on to the one clear word I believed God had dropped into my heart when I accepted that he was calling me to New Life:  that he wanted me to come and be a servant leader.  I learned that in order to gain the trust of those God had called me to lead, it was essential that I prove myself trustworthy, and prove myself to be the kind of person who would give himself away on behalf of others.  So I worked hard at that from the beginning.  I actively sought to lay down my rights and refrain from asserting my privileges as a leader so that everyone would know my first priority was to serve the church and do what was best for all of us.

Not everyone saw it that way, I'm sure.  There were lots of ups and downs, and many moments when I questioned the wisdom of God's plan to bring me here.  There were days I was hurt beyond what I could possibly express, and days when I felt I was being taken advantage of.  And I still came back to this overarching mandate to lead by serving.  I did not do it perfectly, but I think I did it faithfully, which is ultimately what God requires of those he has given the responsibility to lead in his church. 

I'm particularly grateful to God for those of you who have stuck it out through ten years of my ministry, through my mistakes and failures and have been gracious to me while I, for much of it, learned on the job.  God has used you to make me a better pastor, a better husband, better father, and a better man.  It truly has been a privilege to serve you at every turn, and you have been more than gracious to serve with me in so many different ways. 

So, first lesson in ten years of leadership:  be willing to serve.  Those you lead will be thankful for your heart and your commitment to honor them above yourself.  If God gives me another ten years, I pray that I will not lose the heart of a servant.

Teamwork - Nicaragua Reflections (Part 4)

I played sports when I was younger, though I was never really very good at them.  One thing I learned early on was that the team that surrounded you was very critical to success or failure.  My first year in Little League my team was awful - we ended the season 1-15.  But in Senior League (think Babe Ruth league) I was part of a championship winning season.  In neither case was the success or failure all due to my skills as a ball player, but had much more to do with the teams that I played on.

As we set out for this mission trip to Nicaragua, I think I understood that perhaps the one factor that would contribute more to our success or failure on the trip would be the way that our team interacted with one another.  While we had met several times in preparation for the trip, and communicated via email countless other times, I had a little bit of lingering doubt as to how well we would work with one another in an environment that would be unfamiliar for all of us.

From the very beginning of the trip our team was under stress.  We ended up leaving one of our members behind (our translator and driver) on the trip down because his ticket had been rebooked onto another flight.  We had precious little time to make our connections both in New York and in Miami.  And despite the fact that nothing went the way we planned it that first Saturday, I didn't feel like any of us skipped a beat.  Sure we were frustrated and rushed, but everyone seemed able to handle the stress.  In fact, I wonder if it served to bring us together right from the start.

In a group of five people, it would be very easy for one person to make life difficult for everyone else, but we had no such concerns at all.  We worked through the normal issues of travel, including a few days at the end of the trip when most of us were feeling a little under the weather.  We worked through a couple of times when we had some disagreements about how to deal with complicated situations, and were able to do so respectfully and thoughtfully.  At every turn I felt like we were working together to accomplish a task much larger than what any of us could have done on our own - which is my definition of what a good team does.

Just before we left Villa Esperanza I had a conversation with one of the guys who worked on the grounds around the facility.  He remarked that our team had been different from other teams that had stayed there in the past.  He said that some of the teams had very little interaction with the staff at all, but that ours had been different - we had treated them as equals and as friends, rather than just as workers.  I thought that said a lot about the character and quality of our team, and reminded me of just how privileged I was to spend those 11 days with such a great group of people.

I think I'll have one more blog in me about the time in Nicaragua, so I hope you'll join me later this week for that final installment.

Hope - Nicaragua Reflections (Part 3)

Thanks to those of you who are following along with my Nicaragua reflections.  I hope you'll continue to read along and comment when you feel you have something to contribute, because I certainly would love to hear your feedback.

Yesterday I shared some of my burden for what I saw in Nicaragua.  Today I'd like to share about two bright spots on our trip - two organizations that have different aims, but share a common name.  When we scouted out our trip to Nicaragua, we had already committed to helping out one organization called Nica HOPE.  When we starting investigating places to stay, we were referred to a place called Villa Esperanza (which in Spanish means "village of hope"). 

On our first Monday we met with Deanna, the founder and director of Nica HOPE.  It was Deanna who took us to La Chureca and began the process of making connections between us and the school where we spent most of our week serving.  Nica HOPE is an organization that is making a huge difference in the lives of the children in and around the dump community.  They provide school feeding programs at the two schools where most of the kids from the dump attend; they offer backpacks, uniforms and other school materials as an incentive to keep kids in the schools; they provide after-school programs where the children are taught other skills that will be useful as they seek to find work outside of the dump; and most importantly, they provide a ray of hope for these children - the chance to break the cycle of poverty.

We were privileged to meet not only Deanna, but several others who work at Nica HOPE, both Americans who have been serving there and Nicaraguans who are now being employed by the organization.  The spirit of cooperation and passion for what they were doing was very evident from the start.  Deanna was getting ready to take an extended sabbatical, but it was clear from our brief day with her that others were in place who would be able to carry on the work while she is gone. 

We were introduced to the director of the school, and began our preparations to serve there for the week.  I think often on missions trips we tend to measure our effectiveness based on the size of the projects we pulled off.  In that sense we didn't succeed.  We cleaned and painted two bathrooms.  Big deal, right?  There is not a church on the school property, or a medical clinic or even some new rooms for the school.  But for me, all the sweat that went into the project paid off when on Friday, as we were finishing up I met a young woman looking into the girls' bathroom that we had just finished painting.  In my best halting Spanish I asked her what she thought of how the bathroom looked.  She told me that she had been a student here as a little girl, that she remembered what they looked like, and that it was like they had been given new bathrooms.  I could see a sliver of hope in her eyes. 

Each night when we finished our work with Nica HOPE we returned (after a brief stop at Cafe Latina for an iced latte) to Villa Esperanza.  Villa Esperanza is a mission of Forward Edge International, and is doing a great job reaching out to girls who are caught in the dump cycle of poverty, and are often at risk for sexual exploitation as I described yesterday.  The Villa currently houses 16 girls (with plans to add 8 more) who have come out of the dump with the permission of their parent or guardian.  Eight girls live in a house with one house mother.  These girls are receiving an education, are learning what it's like to live with responsibilities for themselves and others, and are getting a chance to live a new kind of life.

The staff at Villa were exceptionally hospitable from the moment we arrived.  From our cook, to the directors, to the crew working on the grounds, we were never without a friendly smile or another opportunity to practice our Spanish.  But really the jewels of the Villa were the girls that are being served.  Many of them have stories that we could not even begin to imagine, and some of them have deep hurts that have not gone away.  But, once again, I think the eyes tell the story.  There is hope shining out from them, the possibility of a future that is different from their past. 

This hope, this possibility of a future, this opportunity to know a different tomorrow - this is the work of the kingdom of God.  I, for one, am glad to have had the experience of seeing hope in action.  It truly is a beautiful, holy thing.

A Picture and a Thousand Words - Reflections on Nicaragua (Part 2)

Few events in my life have left me with what I felt were lasting images, the kinds of sights that seem to be indelibly marked into my thinking.  On a steamy Monday morning in August we drove in two vehicles into the depths of hell on earth.  We drove through the smoke that rises from the trash burning in La Chureca, past a horse that was on the verge of death while the small, black buzzards eagerly circled its body and began picking at its flesh and past the loads of fresh trash coming into this wasteland.

We stopped outside a house on the edge of the dump.  Of course, "house" here is a very loose description, as it did not at all resemble the sort of house that you and I would want to inhabit.  Metal scraps had been fitted together and sectioned off into rooms.  There were some cooking implements in the kitchen area, but they were covered with flies.  The house was fenced in with barbed wire around the top, and strung throughout the small yard area as well. 

There we met eight year old Brian, who was on his own.  He was supposed to be in school, but had decided not to go for the day.  I tried as hard as I could to imagine leaving my son (who's 7) alone by himself for the day under the best of circumstances, but I couldn't bring myself to see how I would do that.  We played marbles, and worked in snippets of conversation in Spanish while I tried to understand what I was seeing.  The idea of an 8 year old at home alone for the day doesn't fit my context.  But, then again, neither did anything else about this place.  The country foreign in language and culture, but it seemed even more alien than that.

On Thursday we went to visit another small community near the dump, called La Playa.  We were invited there by one of the men we met at the small elementary school we were working at.  We saw where he lived, which was not much more than a small shack with a few beds, and a place to cook.  He pointed with pride to his light bulb - a sign of wealth in his community.  La Playa (which in Spanish means "the beach"), is set right up on the shores of Lake Managua.  As we walked to the water, I was overwhelmed with the thought that this should be such a picturesque spot - a tourist haven where people would come to view the spectacular lake, surrounded by mountains and trees.  Instead we saw a lake filled with pollution, littered with trash all along its banks.

How different are Luis and I, really?  We're both men with a family.  We both work to make a living.  We both have hopes and dreams and expectations for our lives.  But when it comes to our living conditions, there couldn't be a more dramatic difference.  I'll go to sleep tonight in a comfortable bed.  I'm sure I'll eat a good meal tonight, and if I'm honest, I'll probably eat more than I need to for sustenance.  If I want to, I'll wake up tomorrow and forget about Luis.  There's a part of me that wishes I could. 

I wrote in my journal that what I saw would be hard to explain to someone used to living like I do even with "the power of a picture and another thousand words."  I could preach to you and tell you that you have no idea of how blessed and fortunate we truly are.  I could tell you that while you spend $2 a day on your coffee, much of the world LIVES on that amount.  I could litter the page with hundreds and thousands of descriptive words by whose power I could hope to persuade you that you have some kind of responsibility to Brian and others because of our common humanity.  I could share with you the stories that we heard of young girls who, in hopes of a better life, are given over to older men who promise to take care of them, but in a few short months end up back in their homes, pregnant and unwanted.  But in the end, I guess that none of those would adequately move you.

At some point in your life, I hope that you will take a trip like the one I did.  I hope that you will stand in a place where you feel the crushing burden of human poverty and brokenness.  This I hope not because I wish a guilt trip upon you, or because I hope to torture you somehow with thoughts of your own greed and desire for more, but because I hope that in that place you might feel something of the weight that I believe breaks the heart of God when he looks at our world.

Brian is 8, my son is 7.  I know one of them made it to school today, and one of them is pretty sure to have every opportunity in life to realize his dreams.  The other, I'm not so sure about.  And that bothers me.  Though I'm not usually a fan of being bothered, the truth is, I hope it never stops.

Tomorrow, we'll regroup and touch on two of the groups we met that were bothered by this too, and are doing something to address the great needs in La Chureca.

The Power of the Unfamiliar - Reflections on Nicaragua (Part 1)

Every time I start out in a new blog post, a part of me wishes that we could just have this conversation in person.  So can we imagine together for a minute or two?

I really want to share with you some reflections from my recent journey to Nicaragua and back, so imagine we've just pulled up a chair alongside one another.  Since we're traveling to Nicaragua for the next few days, there's a warm breeze that wraps its way around you even as your cup of coffee slowly cools in your hands.  On the breeze you catch the scent of unfamiliar fruits and flowers that invite you to investigate their source, and inspire you to consider the wild diversity of God's good creation.  Perhaps you just heard, as I did, the sound of a mango the size of a coconut just land on the metal roof with a thunderous boom.

Twice in my life I've traveled overseas.  Once about 13 years ago to Eastern Europe and the country of Slovakia.  Then in August I traveled to Nicaragua for 11 days of learning, working and growing in my understanding of what it's like to live in a truly impoverished country.  I left behind my wife, two children, my dog, my church, my car, and even my Blackberry.  Okay, that last part's not totally true since I had the Blackberry with me, but never turned it on.  Honest, I didn't. 

Leaving behind the familiar for the unknown is particularly difficult for me, because I'm a creature of habit and comfort.  I tend to gravitate towards situations and people where I know I already have a niche, and where I know I have something to offer.  But from the beginning of this trip none of that would be true.  Our original team of 7 had dwindled to five by the time we arrived in Boston for our flight, and by the time we left Boston we had lost another team member who, due to some complications with our flights would have to follow us the next day.  One of those five team members is a good friend, but the other four were virtual strangers.

Not only would my companions be unfamiliar, but, of course, I was going to a place I'd never been, to speak a language which I'd learned in high school, but had mostly forgotten in the 16 years since I'd said my last "Adios" to senior year.  That first travel day, with all of its chaos, set the tone for the trip in my heart and mind.  Being in an unfamiliar location, with unfamiliar people, unfamiliar customs and an only vaguely familiar means of communicating would mean that I was completely out of my element.

The morning after we arrived in Nicaragua, I wrote this in my journal:  "From the moment they told us a bomb scare had closed part of La Guardia and canceled our first flight of the day there was a chain reaction of events set in motion where I felt very clearly that many things, maybe everything, was out of my control...even in my places of comfort and ease I would do well to remember that I am not the soul (or sole) source for my life."

I took a very simple step of faith; a hesitating, awkward step out into the unknown, and found God was waiting for me there.  In the midst of all that was unfamiliar, I was reminded of just how faithful and good God has been to me, and how he is the ultimate source for my life.  When I have everything that I know, and when I know everything that I have, I find it very easy to begin to trust in my own ability to control situations and order my life.  Unconsciously, of course, I start to think of myself as the master of my own life.  Eleven days in Nicaragua were an opportunity for God to remind me that he is the one ordering my life, and that as he orders my life, he provides all that I need to accomplish his purpose in me. 

Of all the unfamiliar sights to see, the most unfamiliar was a community of people who literally live on the outskirts of a city dump.  Tomorrow I'll post some thoughts on what we saw in La Chureca and La Playa, so come back then and we'll talk some more.

Random, Disconnected Thoughts

With no particular order or flow:

• Last night's Red Sox game was depressing.  I hope they can bounce back today and get a win from Beckett.
• Had a great night writing last night with the thunder and rain while listening to the foghorn and the sound of the waves out the window.  I felt inspired.  Hopefully it translates to the writing I did.  Though, truth be told, nothing ever seems as good in the cold light of day (or the cold gray of day, in our case here).
• I've been on a bit of a reading binge lately after reading through a list of top 100 books related to New England (either by topic or author) from the Boston Globe.  Recently finished John Adams' biography by David McCullough, Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson and am just about done with Three Junes by Julia Glass. 
• I'm really looking forward to starting a new series this weekend called "The Table".  We're going to explore the connection between meals and spirituality in the Scriptures by focusing on three places where the two cross over:  grace, fellowship and thanksgiving. 
• I'm amazed that while our economy has been in probably the worst state of the years I can remember, that the giving of our church community has been steadily on the rise.  To date we're about 23% over our projected budget for this point in the year.  That's definitely a testimony to God's faithfulness!
• We're in the process of working two major projects that I hope will expand our influence in the community:  (1) A renovation of our garage into a better equipped food pantry which will allow us to expand hours and services that are definitely needed (2) A back to school block party that I hope will help bring our people together around a common, exciting project and will allow us to invite others in the community to see what the people who occupy that strange-looking building on the corner of Post and Tuckertown are all about!
• I'm getting very excited for my missions trip in just over a month.  Pray for me if you think about it, but also particularly pray for Rita and the kids while I'm away.  Our family structure is definitely such that both parents contribute a lot to the managing of the house, so a lot of my burden is going to fall to Rita.  I'm sure she'll handle it superbly, but I know it's going to be a challenge for her.
• Last, but not least, I'm looking forward to a vacation at the end of August like I can't remember looking forward to vacation before.  Usually I don't get that sense of longing to get away until just a couple of days before we leave - at this point I'm already feeling like I need the time away, and we need it as a family.  We're going to visit friends in Baltimore, spend time with Rita's family in West Virginia, and then spend a few nights just the four of us touring D.C. 

Random, semi-connected thoughts

Lots of thoughts cluttering my brain this week, so I thought I'd unload some of them here:

• Had a brief conversation with Rita last night about our personal giving to the church and mission of the kingdom - I've been feeling challenged while preparing the messages on managing our money, so I think we're going to make some changes coming up.  I think there's no better way to lead than by example.
• Coaching Jacob's instructional league baseball team could be the most draining thing I've ever done.  An hour and 15 minutes has never gone by so quickly and never taken so much out of me.  My assistant coach and I agreed - you could not pay me enough money to be a first grade teacher. 
• Speaking of first grade teachers, my son has had the privilege of running into one of the best.  After our first interaction with her on a parent night in the first week of school I told Rita that she reminded me of my own first grade teacher, Mrs. Stack.  When you can still remember your first grade teacher in a positive light at age 33+, I'd say that's a good comparison.  So thanks to Mrs. Stack for being an incredible teacher to me, and thanks to Mrs. Sauro for the incredible effort you've given to Jacob this year.  I have no doubt he'll remember you at 33.
• Speaking of kids... I woke up this morning to the sound of my kids reading to each other in Aislinn's room.  Some days they amaze me, literally.  As a parent you wrestle over and over with the constant shaping of their character, the incessant need to give them sound direction and the agonizing hope that they will "get it".  I laid in bed listening to them while a wave of thanksgiving swept over me for a moment when they were speaking to each other with kindness and interacting with each other positively.
• I haven't been to the gym in almost two weeks, the result of an unfortunate meeting between me and poison ivy.  I can't wait to get back to it.  My gut is begging for a beating.
• I've been working on the writing for a new book on character that we can use in our partnerships at the church.  The idea is to explore the beatitudes in Matthew 5 as a manifesto for character in the kingdom of God, and I hope to finish up the first manuscript in the next couple months.  That will require, however, that I get my act together.  And then editing.  Gotta love editing.  Or not.
• There's been some discussion with a few people here at the church about the possibility of hosting some kind of a block party event for the community this summer.  More details to follow, but the key is I've already had somebody say they love to organize things, which is music to the ears of this organizationally and administratively challenged person.
• Looking forward to two things tonight: (1) Worship practice - I love playing with these guys!!  (2)Celtics/Magic, Game 2 tonight.  Hopefully the C's play with more energy than they did in Game 1.

Thanks for indulging me in offloading these thoughts to a page.  Now, back to work on the message.

Two quotes that guide me...

Yesterday afternoon I cracked open a brand new Moleskine Plain Journal with the heavyweight pages that allow me to use my fine point Sharpies for writing out my sermon notes. This morning I took a few minutes to inscribe the following two quotes into the first two pages, as I have done for the last two books before this one. I genuinely enjoy the process of crafting and delivering a message every week, and these two quotes have served as a beacon for me as I endeavor weekly (and sometimes weakly) to speak a word of hope and life into the hearts of those who sit in need with me on Sunday.

They are both from a beautiful little book on preaching called "Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale" written by a remarkable author I first encountered on a recommendation from my brother: Frederick Buechner.

"Let the preacher tell the truth. Let him make audible the silence of the news of the world with the sound turned off so that in the silence we can hear the tragic truth of the Gospel, which is that the world where God is absent is a dark and echoing emptiness; and the comic truth of the Gospel, which is that into the depths of his absence that God makes himself present in such unlikely ways and to such unlikely people that old Sarah and Abraham and maybe even when the time comes even Pilate and Job and Lear and Henry Ward Beecher and you and I laugh till the tears run down our cheeks. And finally let him preach this overwhelming of tragedy by comedy, of darkness by light, of the ordinary by the extraordinary, as the tale that is too good not to be true because to dismiss it as untrue is to dismiss along with it that catch of the breath, that beat and lifting of the heart near to or even accompanied by tears, which I believe is the deepest intuition of truth that we have."

"The Gospel is bad news before it is good news. It is the news that man is a sinner, to use the old term, that he is evil in the imagination of his heart, that when he looks in the mirror all in a lather what he sees is at least eight parts chicken, phony, slob. That is the tragedy. But it is also the news that he is loved anyway, cherished, forgiven, bleeding to be sure, but also bled for. That is the comedy. And yet, so what? So what if even in his sin the slob is loved and forgiven when the very mark and substance of his sin and of his slobbery is that he keeps turning down the love and forgiveness because he either doesn't believe them or doesn't want them or just doesn't give a damn? In answer, the news of the Gospel is that extraordinary things happen to him just as in fairy tales extraordinary things happen....it is impossible for anyone to leave behind the darkness of the world he carries on his back like a snail, but for God, all things are possible. That is the fairy tale. All together they are the truth."

Level 5 Leadership

Good Morning!

I stayed up way too late reading last night, so I'm dragging just a little bit this morning.  I'm feeling like a second cup of coffee may be in order for me to get through to lunch...

Yesterday I mentioned that I wanted to take some time to blog through the concepts advanced by Jim Collins in his book, Good to Great.  So this morning's topic is centered on the leadership provided to these companies that made a leap from good to great.  Collins says, that he "gave the research team explicit instructions to downplay the role of top executives so that we could avoid the simplistic 'credit the leader' or 'blame the leader' thinking common today."  Despite that instruction, they found that leadership of a particular kind was critical to the success of these companies.

They developed a 5 tier hierarchy for categorizing leaders, from Level 1, a highly capable individual, to Level 5 - a leader who blends personal humility and professional will.  He contends that these leaders walked in the paradox of not thinking too highly of themselves, and yet having a perfect understanding of their mission to build something great.  The Level 5 leaders were not interested in being so great that the place would fall apart when they left, rather they were concerned with building a company that would have enduring greatness even after they were gone.

Because of that drive, the Level 5 leaders displayed a remarkable penchant for doing the "right thing" even if it was the hard thing to do, even if it meant shouldering their share of blame for the failures.  Collins describes this as the difference between a window and a mirror.  The comparison company executives often looked out the window to find someone else to blame for the issues.  The good to great leaders were willing to look in the mirror at themselves.  At the same time, they were quick to look out the window to give credit for successes to those with whom they worked.

So, since this quality is all about leadership, it was a "mirror moment" for me as I read it and then thought about its implications.  My own tendency is to be strong on the personal humility aspect of leadership and weak on the professional will aspect.  I have rarely struggled with taking my share of blame for our issues as a church, in fact, I sometimes wonder if I've taken too much blame, but that may be another conversation. 

But I haven't been as driven to see us become great as I would like myself to be, and as it seems that Collins thinks is necessary for us to be.  I heard a podcast a week or so ago (an ESPN production of all things) in which the football analyst being interviewed said, "Remember, never confuse hope with a plan."  That quote stuck with me.  I've been strong on the hope, and much weaker on the discipline to create a plan and stick to it.  In that sense I think I've managed to chase different concepts around, hoping to hit on one that would make me (and us) great.  I feel like I'm coming out of that mode now, which is good news for me personally and for us as a church.

Collins says there are no 10 steps to Level 5 leadership, but that there is an interrelationship between this kind of leadership and the other disciplines described in the book.  He encourages his readers to pursue those disciplines and then see where they take you in your leadership.  So, with that said, I'll close out this post on leadership by inviting you to come back tomorrow for a glance at the "first who, then what" principle.