How compassion can get you killed.

When the first stone hit his shoulder, Stephen flinched. As the stones kept coming, he prayed. When he couldn’t stand any more, he dropped to his knees. He asked God to forgive the people who were killing him. And then he died of blunt force trauma to every part of his body.

Stephen was recognized by many for his thoughtfulness, compassion, and ability to build bridges in difficult situations. At the beginning of the church, when choosing to follow Jesus crossed political and cultural divides, he was chosen by reputation to run a feeding program for minority widows. Meeting this need averted a crisis.

In this public role, Stephen started to engage in public conversations about Jesus. He did miracles of some sort, and when people tried to argue with him, he was so articulate and knowledgeable that no one could refute his teaching.

He was enough of a threat that false charges were made and people were paid to commit perjury. After a lengthy statement in court, he accused the people in front of him of murdering Jesus. Though this was accurate, perhaps because this was accurate, the courtroom exploded and Stephen was dragged out and killed.

Everyone who follows Jesus isn’t killed. Many live long lives of following. But it is important that everyone who decides to follow Jesus and obey his teaching understands that it is a risky thing. Leadership means pursuing justice for widows and explaining why. When the why is “Jesus”, it divides.

Not every situation is something to escape. Sometimes sticks and stones are the weapon of choice, not words. Stones kill you. Sometimes the happy ending doesn’t come in our lifetime. And sometimes the prayer that God answers is the one that sounds exactly like Jesus. “Father, forgive them.”

Right before you die.

From Acts 6-7

confident humility

I’ve been trying to decide how to write about Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. Yesterday, I hinted at a feeling of entitlement among the disciples, just a moment of it. I think it was too much of a hint. So I’ll be less subtle.

Confidence let Jesus be humble. Deservingness causes humbleness to be needed.

The whole story of the foot-washing starts with John talking about the love Jesus has for his disciples, the power he has from his Father, the fact that he is about to return to the seat of his power. John clearly reaffirms Jesus’ status and then says, “so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.” The act of service is rooted, for Jesus, in not having anything to prove.

He gets nothing from this act, usually reserved for a gentile servant. Rinsing the feet of guests from the dirt that accumulated from manure-laden paths as they walked to a party had no redeeming value. This was not like opening the door for someone, an act that people can take turns doing. This was not about helping the helpless, an act that can earn inverse status points.

This act would have carried no points, would have seemed repulsive to the disciples rather than noble. The idea of a servant leader was still new; was, in fact, in the process of being created at this table, on this night.

As I have been thinking about this action, I cannot find an equivalent in our society. We look to Mother Teresa touching lepers or countless homeless advocates passing out socks, but while inspired by Jesus, they aren’t what Jesus was doing in this moment.

But, says John, Jesus wasn’t jeopardizing his position, he was establishing it.

Servant.

Tomorrow we’ll look at deservingness.

Other writing on this story:  You have to do whatever

I’m not Paul

As I read through the New Testament, I frequently have wrestled with a frustrating thought: I’m not Paul.

Paul sets the standard for the dynamic, confrontive, visionary, genius, self-abasing, persecuted, passionate ministry leader. We love him, we know him, and at times, we really don’t like him. Why? Because he sets a standard that fits a personality that most of us don’t have, even those of us in ministry.

And this is particularly difficult for those of us who are in leadership roles or aspire to those roles. We think that Paul sets the standard of how to be a leader. We look at the people who are leading the big churches, people who are writing the significant books on pastoral leadership. Those of us who are not Paul (or what we perceive to be his contemporary counterparts) start to wonder how God can use us.

I have wondered myself.  You see, I’m a second generation second fiddle. My dad was an incredibly effective leader in his organization, but he never moved to the “top” position, the role of executive director. Instead, he “plateaued” at the role of director of the field staff. It sounded better, of course, as Senior Vice President. It meant that “all” he did was to work with the men who represented the organization. He prayed with them, encouraged them, challenged them, hired them, fired them. He was responsible for the well-being of the guys who did the real work of the organization.

In a sense, my dad would have been wasted if he had been moved into the top position.

In the next few weeks, I’ll be talking occasionally about some of the people we find in the early church who aren’t Paul, but matter. I hope you find it helpful. I know I will.

harvest payback

Jesus has a very hard word for leaders: you don’t own, you rent.

A quick overview is in order:

In Matthew 21:33-46, Jesus covers centuries of history with a simple story of a vineyard. A landowner builds a vineyard, rents it out, and goes away. The tenants (who are the religious leaders) mistreat everyone that the landowner sends to get his required share of the harvest. Finally, the tenants agree to kill the owner’s son and keep the land for themselves. The crowd knows that the tenants should be removed and punished.

Jesus is clearly talking to the tenant listeners who are already figuring out how to kill him. But he is also talking to the people who will become the new tenants when the old are replaced.

You don’t own, you rent.

When you start thinking that the responses you are getting to your words are because you are so wise, think about who owns that wisdom you are renting.

When you start thinking that people asking for your help are wanting to steal your glory, think about who might be sending them.

When you starting thinking that the fruit you are seeing, the lives being changed, the groups of people caring for each other, the families being reconciled, the friendships being rebuilt, the addictions being healed, the smiles flitting across the faces of hurting people and then coming back to stay…

when you start thinking that it is happening because of your brilliance and marvelous planting…

remember that you don’t own, you rent.

The landowner built the walls, establishing the boundaries of productivity. The landowner planted the vines, the landowner built the cisterns that would gather the water, the landowner made it possible. The tenants succeed as they follow the design of the landowner…because he doesn’t rent, he owns.

a model of teaching leadership

If you are training people in leadership, how do you help people understand what you are teaching?

Consider Jesus’ approach:

1. You could start with a point of passion.

Look for what is making them angry. Find an injustice that has them completely furious. Especially if it is an injustice that affects them.

“How come he gets special treatment?”

“How come they get to do that and I have to do this?”

2. Call everyone together for a staff meeting. Instead of scolding, however,  start by talking about the common enemy.

“You know what the Romans are like. They can make you do anything they want. They can ruin your life. You know how much you hate that? Why are you making that your leadership model?”

The whole group knows how bad Rome is. They are being shown that there is a flawed leadership model involved.

3. Make it clear to all involved that neither side in the passionate debate has it completely right.

James and John were asking for seats of power. The other ten were mad that the two had asked first. Jesus says, in essence, “You’re all working from the wrong model.” It wasn’t about who got there first or whether he had favorites.

4. Explain how you want it to work.

Jesus tells them about the model of leading that he wants them to use. It’s a model of serving, of putting the good of your people ahead of your personal desires and comforts. He carefully repeats the image of servant and of slave. There is no missing the idea.

5. Demonstrate it in the clearest possible way.

Jesus ends by saying that he is giving up his life for them. And then, within a week, he does.

How well do the people you are training understand your model?

Why not?