We begin the morning with a pop quiz. How many of you have seen the movie Brokeback Mountain? How many at least have heard about it? How many of you think it’s about gay cowboys? That’s a trick question! To have cowboys you have to have cows – and it was sheep that they were herding up there! For many of us it was an education, since we don’t see that many sheep around here. Jack and Ennis were, technically, shepherds!
I have always thought it a bit curious that in a culture in which sheep are rarely seen, in which they play practically no part in our economy or daily life, (unless you like lamb chops or wear wool garments or have trouble sleeping), that sheep and shepherding should have such a dominant role in our religious imagination. “The Lord is my shepherd” is among the best-loved and most memorized biblical passages, recited by countless people in stressful situations, as they find themselves walking into the valley of the shadow.. Dozens of hymns and classic prayers refer to God or Jesus as our shepherd, and ourselves as sheep. Try counting the references to sheep in a typical worship service, even when it’s not “Good Shepherd Sunday.” It’s amazing that something that hasn’t been an everyday part of our lives for generations still has such a hold on us and our heart language, such power to frame our faith.
And the image, which was certainly a dominant one in Jesus’ time, when sheep were the basis of the economy, and thus an easily accessible metaphor, this image still influences our understanding of church, and in the way ministry is often thought of. The very term “pastor” is derived from the Latin term for shepherd. The congregation is often referred to as “the flock.” We offer pastoral care, reminiscent of the tender loving care of shepherd’s anointing wounds with oil.
This is heart language. But the problem is, most congregationalists don’t fancy themselves as sheep anymore. It’s not just that sheep are rather dirty, disgusting creatures, whom John Muir called the "hooved locust.”. Maybe that does describe our human condition fairly well, but still, even when sheep are well-behaved, most of us don’t want to identify with them. Especially in a congregation like ours, which is full of leaders, decision makers, heads of organizations, executive directors, partners, and so on, being a sheep is just not part of our self-image. After all, how often do you attend a seminar or workshop or read a book on how to be a good follower? No, the world is full of self-help gurus anxious to help us develop our "leadership skills." And every so often, some democratizing concept such as "teamwork" appears – which usually means "everybody working together to do things my way.". But for the most part, our typical idea of what life is like if you are not able to rise to leadership status is illustrated by the cartoon depicting a team of sled dogs in harness, with the caption "Unless you're the lead dog, the scenery never changes." So sled-dogs – and sheep – we are not.
We are, in many ways, more like cats – independent and in charge – which caused Kirk Hadaway, who once was the UCC’s chief researcher, to observe that being a UCC minister is like herding cats – in other words, very problematic. First, he said, it’s just doesn’t work. And second, it annoys the cats! Having been your Senior cat-herder....I mean, pastor.... for nearly five years, I think he’s on to something!
As dear as the image of shepherd is, I have, in thinking about leadership in the church, been wondering if there are additional images and models that are appropriate for our time. Even if we were to stick with the pastoral language, the first thing I realize is that I am NOT the “Good Shepherd” - Jesus is! At best, I am merely the “pretty good shepherd.” I try to embody the qualities of a shepherd, knowing the flock, caring, giving of myself in the same way that God knows and cares for me. Well, not in quite the same way, because I’m not God, just an imperfect imitator – but “we love because God first loved us.” Still, what are some more contemporary images that might work?
One that I’ve often used is to picture the church as a bicycle wheel, with Christ at the center, and the spokes radiating out to you, the members of the church. And each of you in that circle has some special mission to perform, based on a unique gift of the Spirit that is yours, a gift for doing the work of ministry. The pastor is the bicycle mechanic, the one in the coveralls with greasy hands, trying to get the contraption to function better. I try to tighten the spokes, through providing worship and sermons, making pastoral visits, keeping an eye on the administration, planning various programs and classes, all means of "equipping the saints for the work of ministry." When the tire gets low, I see that it gets inflated again. Of course you may think I have plenty of air for this, at a rather high temperature; but really I draw upon the breath of God, the Spirit. The church, you see, is built around the mind of Christ (as our Statement of Purpose says), filled with the Breath of God, energized by the vision of its mission. And you, the members, or “saints,” as Paul puts it, do the real work of ministry. You are the tire that gets the bicycle somewhere. I'm just the mechanic, who tries to get the bike running smoothly and who basically takes care of the loose nuts. (You know who you are!)
Now, there’s been a lot written about leadership in the church lately – I have a huge stack of such books -- and quite often the authors borrow from the business world – just as Jesus might if he were telling contemporary parables. The aforementioned Kirk Hadaway (Behold, I Do a New Thing), writes, “Studies of very successful managers found certain common characteristics: They were good at setting an agenda, buiding a network, and using that network to get things done. They did not plan, organize, motivate or control in a formal way. Instead they acted informally by joking around and talking to people – frequently about non-work issues. Rarely did they seem to make decisions. Instead they led by trying to influence people. Sounds like a pastoral role to me!” So the next time you think a meeting is wandering off-topic, remember, here’s a method to the madness!
Business consultant Richard Farson writes, in Management of the Absurd, "Effective leaders and managers do not regard control as the main concern. Instead, they approach situations sometimes as learners, sometimes as teachers, sometimes as both. They trust the wisdom of the group. Their strength is not in control alone, but in other qualities—passion, sensitivity, tenacity, patience, courage, firmness, enthusiasm, wonder."
Do you sense a theme here? That leads me to agree with Judson Edward’s observation that perhaps the role model pastors really need is the Tom Hanks character in the movie Big. “A twelve-year-old boy wakes up one morning looking like a thirty-year-old. On the outside he’s grown up, but on the inside he’s still a kid. He gets a job with a toy manufacturer and is quickly promoted to vice-president. To the amazement and chagrin of his colleagues, this man/child is praised for his leadership. His unlikely style has nothing to do with dominance, certainty, or any of the other “macho” qualities we usually associate with strong leadership. His only goal is to be himself—playful, honest, lighthearted, and asker of dumb questions. Just in being himself, he leads. Others in the toy company crunch numbers and plot graphs. He just brings himself to the job, and wonderful, creative things happen.”
“I need to remember that example,” he says, “each time I steer my (car) toward the church and embark on another day of ministry. As pastor, I have the responsibility to define myself and to proclaim the Truth. But leadership is not about dominance. It is about loving what I do and being playful, honest, and real.” (The Leadership Labyrinth: Negotiating the Paradoxes of Ministry)
That, I think, is moving in the right direction, may explain how I see myself with my type-B somewhat laid-back personality managing to provide leadership among a bunch of type-A’s! I know I’m not always perceived as being particularly forceful, and I know as well that a lot of things get done around here that I do not instigate or seek credit for – but that’s okay with me. I’ve tried herding cats before. I simply want to create a climate that releases the creative energy that you all have, and offers empowerment to make good things happen.
There is one further dimension of leadership, however, that is not fully addressed by my bicycle mechanic model, or even by the non-dominating business models, and that is the spiritual one. Being a pastor is more than managing, more than getting the church to run smoothly, more than enabling and equipping others for mission. There is a spiritual dimension, which is something unique that a pastor can offer. To add the spiritual dimension is to help people – very competent people, experts in their own fields, leaders in their own spheres – make the connection to something larger, to meaning, to purpose, to God. It is to help them understand in time that no one ever says on their death bed, “I wish I’d spent more time at the office!” It is to help people ask the right questions, to open up the possibility of transformation. And so I’ve kept exploring for another image, and while going back to “shepherd” is very tempting, I discovered I need look no further than our own Tom Lenhart, in the words with which he closes his ordination paper:
“The metaphor that captures the inherent dynamics of ministry for me is that of river guide. The pastor is like the guide who accompanies individuals and groups down rivers that are only dimly understood and that change their channels with the rains and floods. The guide is challenged to insure that all have life jackets and other safety gear and to pick the right craft for the right person at the proper point in the river.... The guide is challenged to know his fellow travelers, their needs and capabilities and to know the challenges of the river ahead; understanding, however, that the trip and the river are at least in part unknown and that plans may have to be modified. Moreover, the guide must never forget that he cannot make the journey for someone else (that there are boundaries) and, indeed, he too is on a journey the contours of which are not fully known. Just like the guide who continually navigates a demanding, yet awesome, river with fellow travelers, so must it be enormously rewarding and humbling to travel with one or more on a faith journey through ministry.”
That has certainly been my experience, but today, as the journey takes us to the Lord’s Table, I see myself not as bicycle mechanic, or manager, or river guide, or even pretty good shepherd – certainly not as a priest who presides at the re-enactment of some ancient sacrifice – but as the maitre de, the one who helps you get a good table – and with Christ as the host, this one is certainly the best!
