The desire to be “somebody” is deep within all of us. We want to be distinguished, we need to be acknowledged, we must be somebodies, not nobodies. That desire to be “somebody” can lead us to glorious accomplishment, or it can lead to the depths of degradation. It’s all in what motivates us. Do you want to be “somebody” because you feel so empty that you just have to break out of that insecurity? Or do you want to be “somebody” because that gives you a chance to contribute something positive to the world? The desire to be “somebody” produces a Hitler, a Stalin, or a Kim Jong Il; or it brings forth a Marie Curie, a Mother Teresa, or a George Washington Carver. People whom others follow and imitate.
I want to speak today to the twin issues of leadership and followship. What sort of leaders may we follow, and what sort of leaders can we be? When we choose to follow someone, how shall we judge whether that person is worthy? And when someone looks to us for leadership, by what standards are we to lead? There are profound issues.
Margaret and I had our granddaughters with us for an overnight stay this week. We noticed how often the just barely four-year-old imitated exactly the actions and words of her five-and-a-half-year-old sister. Leadership! But there are issues. As we took a walk, with the older one boldly leading the way, Jackie said to me, “Olivia always wants to lead. She says to me, ‘You lose’”. Can you hear resentment building, already? Leadership and followship – interesting issues.
For remember, the desire to be “somebody” is deep within all of us. We want to be distinguished, we need to be acknowledged, we must be somebodies, not nobodies. That desire to be “somebody” forces us to think about leadership.
When you were a child, did you play the game, “Follow the Leader?” You remember how it works. It’s very simple. One kid assumes leadership and begins to go places and do things, and all the others are expected to follow right along. The leader can make things boring and easy, or he can make them exciting and challenging. The kids who follow try to live up to the challenge as the leader takes them to more and more places they might not ordinarily go.
When I was a child, I too played “Follow the leader.” I learned a few things. Today I’m going to shave off fifty years – well, fifty-five – okay, then, sixty, in order to share some stories. This may be an unusual style of preaching. But the stories are all true life lessons, framed in the Bible’s admonition, “Remember your leaders.”
I
First, let’s consider that authentic leadership is based on truth. Let’s understand that if we are to lead, truth-telling is absolutely fundamental. Some lead based on lying; Hitler and Stalin and their sort freely lied to their people, and got a following, for a while. But real leadership, leadership that matters, is based on truth.
Remember what we’ve established: that the desire to be “somebody” is deep within all of us. We want to be distinguished, we need to be acknowledged, we must be somebodies, not nobodies. That desire to be “somebody” forces us to conclude that leaders worth following stay with truth and do not mislead.
My story: Larry told me about stamp collecting, and I decided to try it. Larry told me that the way you build your collection is to trade duplicates with other collectors. If he had two of the 12 cent Zachary Taylor presidential stamps, he’d be glad to let me have one of them if I had something he wanted, like maybe a the 13 cent Millard Fillmore in the same series. That seemed fair, and so Larry and I plunged happily into sorting out our duplicates and trading, stamp for stamp. After a while, however, Larry proposed another rule. He had an airmail stamp I wanted, so Larry said, “Look, this air mail stamp is twice the size of the regular stamps. So you have to give me two of yours if you want one of these.” Larry said it, Larry was older than I, Larry was really smart, I thought it must be right. And so that’s what we did for the rest of the afternoon. I got one, he got two; I got two, he got four; I got four, he got eight – until my little pile of stamps looked rather puny next to his, and we quit.
Well, guess what? I found out later that the value of a postage stamp has nothing to do with its size. I followed a leader who was not honest. This leader was deceptive. This leader did not base his leadership on truth, and I lost respect for Larry.
But the problem is that deception breeds deception. So I tried a trick of my own. Because I knew I was not a leader, because I thought I was nobody, I was desperate to get somebody to follow me in something. So one day at school I turned to the kid on my right and the kid on my left and whispered, “When Mrs. Ferree’s back is turned, let’s holler out real loud.” They gave me a look, but both of them smiled, as if to say, “Good idea.” Two minutes later Mrs. Ferree turned to write something on the chalkboard. I looked to my right, I looked to my left, and, at the top of my lungs, went, “Hooahh”. Mrs. Ferree dropped her chalk, most of the other kids jumped, the ones to my right and my left sat and snickered as our teacher snarled, “Who did that?” And without giving me time to compose my innocent face, she towered over me and asked, “Was that you?!”.
Folks, I am not George Washington. “No, who, me?” But of course my supposed accomplices on my right and on my left knew everything, and told it. By the end of a day spent shedding tears in the principal’s office, I knew the first lesson of leadership. People will not follow you very long if you lead out of falsehood. People will not go with you far if you do not offer them truth. If you want to play follow the leader, give something authentic, give them something genuine and real.
And so the Scriptures: Remember your leaders, those who spoke the word of God to you; consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Do not be carried away by all kinds of strange teachings.
If you expect to be somebody, turn to truth. Turn to those whose way of life is helpful, positive, and constructive. Do not listen to the siren songs of those who are all promise but who never deliver on anything. Pay no attention to those who tell you whatever they think you want to hear in order to gain your vote or bring in your contribution. Politicians, preachers, ideologues of many stripes will say anything to get a response from you. But if you are looking for leadership, look to someone who knows the word of God. Look to someone who makes it his business to examine this book. Listen to those who, like our pastor, carefully, prayerfully, explore the Jesus Christ who is constant and sure, clear and transparent. Let us make it our business, brothers and sisters, in this church, to become a place of truth, a center for intelligent faith, a church where every classroom, every prayer meeting, every gathering of any kind, is shaped by the truth embodied in Jesus Christ.
Let us remember and honor it: leadership depends first on truth.
II
But now if leadership depends on truth and not deception, how do you get that truth into people? How do we get people not only to know the truth, but also to do it? I cannot be a leader if no one will follow, so how do we get followers?
Remember, again, that the desire to be “somebody” is deep within all of us. We want to be distinguished, we need to be acknowledged, we must be somebodies, not nobodies. That desire to be “somebody” requires followers as well as leaders. How do we cultivate others to pay attention to us? It has to do with grace. It is tied up with grace. You know that great Christian word, meaning unmerited favor? Grace.
Another story: Patrick was the bully of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Elementary School. Tall, muscular, with a shock of red hair and a jutting jaw, Patrick ruled the roost wherever he went. He always had two or three other boys around, too, saying whatever he said, doing whatever he did. It seemed Patrick really knew something about leadership. It seemed the secret of leadership was in muscles, loud voices, and an attitude. Most of the time I kept my distance from Patrick; but I have to admit I envied him.
You see, I couldn’t be the kind of leader Patrick was. I didn’t have the physique for it, nor did I have the gigantic personality. I was the uncoordinated kid, the one they picked last for the softball team. In addition, my weakening eyesight, with the need to protect my glasses at all costs, and my shy personality, made it impossible for me to imitate Patrick. I admired him and at the same time I hated him; I envied him and at the same time I wished he would go away. The main thing was to avoid Patrick; you didn’t want to get in Patrick’s way.
I was invited to join the school patrol, which meant that I would stand with my Sam Browne belt and my badge at some intersection and tell the others when they could and could not cross the street. Oh, the power! It went well, until one day, they put me on a different corner from the one I normally guarded. Who knew that this new corner was the one Patrick used when he walked to school?
Well, that morning Patrick approached, and stepped out into the street before my hands gave the signal. I said, in my most authoritative eleven-year-old voice, “Uh, um, you’re supposed to wait until I let you go.” Patrick stopped in the middle of the street; he turned around. It felt like, “High Noon.” Patrick sneered, “Don’t you tell me what to do. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
I remember very little about what we did in school that day. I just hoped I would be assigned to a different corner for the afternoon. But no such luck. As Patrick approached, with a snarl on his lips and his sleeves rolled up, I knew what was going to happen, and it did. I went home a dirty, bruised, humiliated heap, wanting to disappear, and dreading the next day, when it might happen all over again.
I didn’t see Patrick the next morning until class started. He shot a glance in my direction, a glance that seemed to say, “Now you know who’s boss.” I trembled a little, but, what to my wondering eyes should appear, in the classroom doorway, our school principal, an elderly diminutive lady who looked like the kind you should be helping with her grocery sacks. But on that day she drew herself up to her full five-foot-two and spoke one word, “Patrick”. It sounded like Gabriel’s horn at doomsday. The room fell silent. Patrick looked at the door, turned six shades of red, and followed her out, looking for all the world like a condemned criminal about to be executed.
Patrick never touched me again. And I learned a lesson in leadership.
The Bible says it: It is well for the heart to be strengthened by grace.
Hear that again: It is well for the heart to be strengthened by grace. Leadership that filters through bullying can be overruled by grace. Leadership is not about putting others down and intimidating them, but it is about encouraging and strengthening the faint of heart. When a leader strengthens you through sheer acts of grace and hope, size doesn’t matter. Money doesn’t matter. Prestige doesn’t matter. Patrick fed my fear, but that school principal led me with grace, and encouraged me, gave me hope. Grace strengthened my pitiful child’s heart.
If you want followers, do not command them; encourage them. If you want disciples, do not browbeat them; love them. Love them even when love has to be tough. Love them when they disappoint you and fail. But it is grace that teaches our hearts to fear aright, and grace that leads us home. “It is well for the heart to be strengthened by grace”. Leadership and followship are served by grace.
III
So, now, what have we learned about leadership and followship? We have learned that leadership comes from teaching truth and not from deception. And we have learned that followship comes not from bullying, but comes from a heart strengthened by grace. Those are good lessons. But there is one more, and it is the greatest of all. As a child I learned that leadership is an unswerving devotion to the needs of the last, the least, the lost, and the lonely. I learned that authentic leadership is not an attempt to rise above others, nor to take on airs, nor to parade accomplishments. Leadership is a total devotion to those who cannot, without help, become what God wants them to be.
For surely by now you know that the desire to be “somebody” is deep within all of us. We want to be distinguished, we need to be acknowledged, we must be somebodies, not nobodies. That desire to be “somebody” finally drives us to the bottom line, sacrifice. Sacrifice for the needs of others.
Can you stand one more childhood story? I played “Follow the Leader” with Brooke more than with anyone else. We were such good buddies. We respected each other. We never got into the kind of rivalries that destroy kids’ friendships. I was good at some things that he wanted to do, like piano playing or shooting caroms. He was good at some things I was curious about, like playing the French horn and pitching horseshoes. Our friendship was superb. Each of us led the other.
One day playing “follow the leader” took us, with our bicycles, to the nearby junior high school field. We were looking forward to getting just a little older, when we too would be in junior high and could play touch football and jump hurdles with the others. Brooke didn’t seem to know or to care that there was no way on God’s green earth that I would ever get both of my left feet over one of those hurdles. If he did know, it didn’t matter. He was my friend and I was his. So we rode our bikes around that field, up and down its hills and valleys, around the track, delighting in a warm summer’s day.
But suddenly Brooke’s bike blew a tire. He took a bit of a tumble as the front wheel went wobbly, and the bike ground to a halt in the dust. What to do?! Just across the street from the junior high school there was a service station, with an air pump and patches for sale. We were not far from that station as the crow flies, but there was a high fence all around the junior high school field. That meant Brooke had to push his bike two long blocks up to the gate and then the same two blocks back down the other side of the fence. I let him go while I kept on riding my bike and enjoying my freedom.
But my slow and leisurely riding was interrupted after a while as Brooke called and said, “I need your help. I can’t get the tire off the wheel. Can you come over here and help me?” Well, I had three choices. I might have said, “No, I’d rather stay here. You fix it. It’s your bike.” But I didn’t say that; Brooke was my friend. Or I could have said, “Let me go two blocks up to the gate and two blocks back down on the other side of the fence. I’ll come, but I’ll be a while.” That would have been all right, but it just didn’t seem to be the best response. After all, when your friend needs you, he needs you, now.
So I took a third option. Not worrying about my own safety, not considering my total lack of athletic ability, concerned only for my friend in distress, I took a running leap at the chain link fence, clambered eight feet up to the top, got one pudgy leg over, and – ouch – snagged the other leg right on that sharp barbed wire. Do you know how much that hurts?! If you want, I can show you today the scar that never did heal properly.
That evening, at home, trying to explain to my mother how I had not only splattered blood all over the bathroom floor, but had also ripped a perfectly good pair of seersucker slacks, I could only say, “Brooke needed help, and I just wanted to get there as fast as possible.”
Therefore Jesus also suffered outside the city gate in order to sanctify the people by his own blood. Let us then go to him outside the camp and bear the abuse he endured. … Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.
Brothers and sisters, whatever else leadership is, it is Christ, bearing in His own body, for us and our salvation, the pain of tearing flesh and a seared soul. Whatever else leadership is, it is Jesus Christ, on a green hill far away, outside a city wall, suffering for us who cannot possibly help ourselves. Whatever else leadership is, it is Jesus Christ, up on that cross, not caring for His own pain, doing His redemptive work, whatever the cost. That’s leadership. That’s what I want to follow!
For whatever else leadership is, it is the people of God, seeing the last, the least, the lost, and the lonely, and loving them. Loving them enough to serve them. Loving them enough to multiply ministries to heal their woundedness. Loving them enough to bear in our own bodies the wounds of Christ, feel His compassion, understand the hearts He would touch, to make the wounded whole.
If I am going to play “follow the leader”, I want to follow the compassionate Christ, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.
If I am going to play “follow the leader”, I want to go outside the gates, outside the comfort zone. I want to find the last, the least, the lost, and the lonely. I want to go where Jesus goes. If it costs something, so be it. I want Him. He is all I want; more than all in Him I find.
For, after all, the desire to be “somebody” is deep within all of us. We want to be distinguished, we need to be acknowledged, we must be somebodies, not nobodies. God grant that such a desire to be “somebody” leads us to Him who is the same, yesterday, today, and forever, suffering for us outside the city gate.
