Dropping the Communion Tray and Other Leadership Tactics

“Martha,” he said, “what do you think I should do?”

There was a time when he would have preferred to have his fingernails removed with a pair of pliers than to ask for help or advice.  The pastor grew up as a relatively normal male in the western world.  So asking for help was a sign of weakness.  Seeking advice was an admission of incompetence.  Depending on someone else was a mark of failure.

Weakness, incompetence and failure were on-ramps to the superhighway of shame.  Or so he had been taught.

It was the Bulldog who set him straight on this.  “You have to get used to the idea that everything important in this life is on a two-way street,” she said one day over coffee and a cheese Danish.  “All the real power in this life comes in and goes out on the same path.  If the road is blocked one way, it will be blocked both ways.”

The pastor felt that small pain in the precise center of his forehead.  That pain always came when he had to absorb a new way of thinking.  “I have no idea what you just said,” he sighed with eyes rolling.

The Bulldog took a deep breath, a sip of coffee and then re-launched.  “All right, let’s deal with something in your area.  In the Lord’s Prayer it says, ‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, right?”

“Right,” the pastor mumbled.  He was hoping this wasn’t going to turn into some sort of moral self-improvement lecture.

“What can that sentence mean?  If it means that God doesn’t forgive until we forgive others, then what God offers is conditional.  It’s a quid pro quo.  You pay for your forgiveness by forgiving others.  That doesn’t seem right, does it?”

“No, not at all,” the pastor was nodding with eyes wide open.  Now they were getting somewhere interesting.  “Forgiveness is a gift and is unconditional.  Otherwise it’s not forgiveness at all.”

“Very good, my friend.  You get five free minutes for that one.”  She often teased him with “free” time as a way of dealing with his regular small concerns about having to pay for coaching.  “So that petition isn’t about a pay as you go relationship.  Instead, the prayer tells us that forgiveness is on a two-way street.  If you can’t let your own forgiving out, then you won’t be able to let God’s forgiving in.  If the road is blocked in one direction, it’s blocked in the other direction as well.”

“I see!” the pastor erupted.  Several other patrons looked up from their Wall Street Journals and iPads and knitting.  But he was unfazed.  “So you’re saying that help is like that.  Giving and getting help travel the same path.  If I am unwilling to get help, I won’t really be able to give it either.  Is that it?”

“Make that ten free minutes, my insightful friend!”  She smiled and then went on.  “Yes, that’s exactly right.  We are always on the trail of hope in these conversations.  Hopeful people get all the help they need and give all the help they can.  If you never need help, you will create a barrier to other people.  They will see you as unapproachable, and you’ll wonder why your life is so lonely and empty of significant relationships.”

“Hang on a minute,” the pastor frowned.  “That’s all well and good for building a network of friends and family.  But I’m trying to lead an organization, not to create a fan club.  If I’m asking for help from the people I lead, won’t they see me as weak and vulnerable and…well, not a leader at all?  Isn’t this just re-describing the problem as the solution?”

“That’s very good,” the Bulldog smiled.  “You have described how many leaders see the issue.  But that’s not how it really works out in practice.  First, you do actually have to be competent in what you do.  And people need to see you as able to do your job with quality and care.  But I know you are good at what you do.  And most of the people in your church know that too.”

The pastor enjoyed the affirmation but remained unconvinced.  His coach continued undaunted.

“Let’s remember a few of the small tools we’ve deployed to make you more approachable.  Do you remember some of them?”

“Indeed I do,” the pastor smiled with the right side of his face.  “The first one is self-deprecating humor.  I struggle to giggle kindly at myself, but when I do it, there are big dividends in my leadership.”

“Why do you think that is?” the Bulldog pressed.

“I become more human, more real, more fallible, more relatable.  And I relax and don’t worry about appearing to be more perfect than I am.”

“Directly on target, my friend.  What’s another tactic we’ve discussed?”

“I remember when I dropped that tray of communion wine glasses at an evening service.  I thought I would never live that down, especially since the stains had to be professionally cleaned.  But then you described the ‘pratfall effect.’  And it was really true.”

“You’ll recall that Aronson, Willerman and Floyd staged an experiment where a leader committed a clumsy blunder." she reminded him.  "If the leader was perceived as competent, then that accident increased the leader’s attractiveness.  If the leader was average or below, then the accident decreased that leader’s attractiveness even further. Competence can be off-putting if it’s not accompanied by the occasional humanizing mistake.  I would have encouraged you to look for such opportunities, but you have the knack for tripping up at the right times without lots of training.”

The pastor smiled.  “Everyone has their talents.”

“Remember that you have to be mindful in asking for help and being vulnerable,” she continued, now furrowing her brow.  For most people, a combination of high competence and real humanity is very attractive.  The highly competent, however, may have little patience with these small displays.  And those of low self-esteem may be frightened off by the idea that their leader might have feet with at least some clay in the mix.

“Yes, that’s right.  So with my team, for example, ‘human’ is a very good thing.  But with some of the bullies in the pew, ‘human’ is like raw meat for a hungry dog.  It’s an invitation to attack all the more.”

“That’s right, as far as it goes.  The ‘mindful’ part is really important in a mixed group.  Most of the time, you can allow your vulnerability to work for you, even when a bully is part of the mix.  If you are paying attention and remain grounded, you can be appropriately vulnerable and even endure a few personal attacks without retaliation.  The majority of folks in the crowd, if they believe you are generally capable, honest and caring—the majority of folks with come to your defense, if you have the patience to allow that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I face a pack of hungry dogs,” he grinned.  Of course, now he was preparing to do precisely that.

“Martha,” he said, “what do you think I should do?”