Today is St Patrick’s Day, the date when the fifth-century missionary to Ireland is supposed to have died. Depending on your preferred theory, he might have come from England, Wales or even Scotland. No matter. Now the date has become a celebration of Irishness replete with parades, green clothes, ginger beards and copious amounts of alcohol. But what about the man himself? Semi-mythical accounts composed centuries after his death tell of showdowns with druids, smashing pagan statues in iconoclastic fervour, calling down curses upon kings and kingdoms and, of course, banishing snakes. All the embellishments of a Christian superhero, but with no basis in documents from the time of Patrick. Even the idea that he used the shamrock to teach about the Trinity seems to be a fiction. Then there is the poem (or hymn) known as Patrick’s Breastplate, which is sometimes selectively quoted by contemporary Christians (‘Christ with me, Christ before me’ etc.). In its entirety, it reads as a blend of pagan mysticism and pseudo-Christian superstition. I’m glad to say there’s little evidence that it had anything to do with the real Patrick. Yet there was a real Patrick. The landscape of my native Northern Ireland is littered with supposed locations from his life. His purported grave is in County Down, in the grounds of Downpatrick Cathedral, with the site of his supposed first church nearby in Saul. Then there is Armagh, where he is said to have built the first large church in Ireland, causing it to become the ecclesiastical capital of Ireland as not one but two ‘St Patrick’s’ Cathedrals testify. Finally, Slemish in County Antrim is the lonely mountain where he allegedly herded sheep as a slave in his teenage years. All these locations are steeped in tradition, behind which it is hard to establish concrete facts. So, what can we know of the real Patrick? Well, he was a pioneering missionary to Ireland. Not the first, but certainly a significant influence in the Christianising of this island. In his autobiographical Confession, he writes of baptising many converts and appointing many ministers and virgins to continue gospel work in Ireland. This is the Patrick I have known and have long admired. A passionate servant of the gospel and a progenitor of the deeply spiritual missionary movement known as Celtic Christianity. That was the Patrick I thought I knew. Until I read his own words in full. There, in the words of the Confession, I came to know the real Patrick. Not a superhero whose life was a tale of unalloyed victories. Yes, the Confession recounts his successes as well as giving his testimony. The things I thought I knew are there. Abduction as a boy into slavery in Ireland. Escape and return to his family. Visions of a man calling him back to Ireland as a missionary. Conversions and baptisms. Appointing other workers. So much is true. But I discovered something else. That he was a man like me. A rounded figure who had challenges and struggles in ministry. His Confession opens with these words: *My name is Patrick. I am a sinner, a simple country person, and the least of all believers. This was Patrick’s core identity. A sinner and a believer. The Confession reveals both truths. It is saturated with biblical quotations and inferences. It expresses his confidence in the gospel, but it also exposes his challenges in gospel ministry. Three in particular. I am not referring to the opposition he faced in Ireland. That he seems to have expected as inevitable, although his only other surviving writing, an open letter to soldiers who had slaughtered some recent converts, expresses his sorrow and anger at opposition from pagans. The three challenges that stand out are much more personal and intense than that. The first challenge was his own sense of inadequacy. He especially refers to his lack of education, which some had said made him unsuited to ministry. He writes: *There were many who forbade this mission. They even told stories among themselves behind my back, and they said: “Why does he put himself in danger among hostile people who do not know God?” It was not that they were malicious – they just did not understand, as I myself can testify, since I was just an unlearned country person. Patrick explains that he was slow to recognise God’s calling to Ireland. His testimony is told in tones of awe that God had both rescued him from sin – *I was like a stone lying deep in the mud. Then he who is powerful came and in his mercy pulled me out, and lifted me up and placed me on the very top of the wall. – and given him a fruitful ministry – *I see that already in this present age the Lord has given me a greatness more than could be expected. I was not worthy of this. Patrick overcame his sense of inadequacy to follow his Saviour’s leading to Ireland, despite the insults and persecutions he would face there. He describes his willingness to die for Christ’s name, and desire to stay in Ireland until his death. The Confession, written in his old age, bears the marks of a life of service saturated in the Scriptures. A life well spent because his identity was in Christ: a sinner and a believer. The second challenge was the most intense of all. Patrick did not only face opposition from pagans. He was attacked from within the Church. He recounts an incident when some of his seniors brought an accusation against him, claiming that he was unsuitable to be a bishop because of a teenage sin. The effect on Patrick was intense. He writes: *This hit me very hard, so much so that it seemed I was about to fall, both here and in eternity. The pain was intensified by the fact that his accusers had heard about the long-past sin from a trusted confidante to whom he had confessed it thirty years earlier. That man had assured him of God’s forgiveness and that it was not a disqualifying sin. But he broke confidence and told others who were looking for ammunition against Patrick. It isn’t clear what the sin was, but my guess is it might have been sexual in nature. Later in the Confession, Patrick alludes to other accusations against him – that he received gifts in return for ministry, which may have been his true motivation for returning to Ireland. Far from profiting from his mission, Patrick insists that he expended large sums in gifts to Irish kings and judges to open the way for the gospel whilst refusing all gifts, even when it was offensive to those who offered them, so that he might be above reproach. Reading the Confession with modern eyes, I must confess I had my doubts. What if Patrick was actually another fraud like the ones we hear of periodically? Men who conceal sins of self-indulgence behind a veneer of outward success. I certainly hope not! But there are also details in the Confession that make me think Patrick was telling the truth. The sin that his friend betrayed confidence over was committed before Patrick was in ministry or even converted. And his policy concerning gifts seems to be a model of wise boundaries to protect the reputation of the gospel. And then there is Patrick’s response, which reflects trust in God and concern for others above his own reputation: *But the Lord in his kindness spared the converts and the strangers for the sake of his name, and strongly supported me when I was so badly treated. I did not slip into sin and disgrace. I pray that God not hold this sin against them. The other detail that leads me to believe Patrick is his candour about the third challenge he faced. We might expect someone who had faced false accusations to be reluctant to admit to temptation for fear it would play to his detractors’ advantage. But Patrick was open about his struggles with intense temptation. He writes: *I hope to do what I should. I know I cannot trust myself as long as I am in this body subject to death. There is one who is strong, who tries every day to undermine my faith, and the chastity of genuine religion I have chosen to the end of my life for Christ my Lord. The flesh can be an enemy dragging towards death, that is, towards doing those enticing things which are against the law. This is a man who knows his weakness and is not so proud as to think he was beyond risk of falling. He was no superhero. He had feet of clay, just like every servant of Christ. Here then are the three challenges Patrick faced in service of God: self-doubt and misunderstandings, betrayal and opposition, and daily temptation to sin. Yet, by God’s grace, he ran the race and left a legacy in the converts he baptised, the ministers he trained and, of course, the few words he wrote. These three challenges are part and parcel of ministry. I find it heartening to know when I face these same three challenges that I am not alone. Patrick inspires me to think about my values and what measures I need to take in order to continue on the path of faithfulness. In his policy around money and his practice of confession – albeit that he was betrayed by a confessor – he reminds us of the necessity for clear and consistent boundaries in ministry. In his way of writing, he models dependence on God through immersion in the Scriptures and regularly renewed joy in God’s salvation and calling. And he inspires us to be sure that our legacy is less about our own achievements – he wrote little – and more about the people we develop to carry the baton after us. He appointed many servants of God who would sustain and nurture the new indigenous Irish church in its gospel mission. Above all, Patrick’s faithfulness despite his sense of unworthiness reminds us that God can use the insignificant and weak. People like you and me. Indeed, such are always the people God uses, for there is no other kind. I am glad I have come to know the real Patrick. From now on, I think St Patrick’s Day will be for me less a time for celebration and more an opportunity for reflection. A time to offer back to God my hopes and fears. A time to pray as Patrick did: *I pray that God give me perseverance, and that he grant me to bear faithful witness to him right up to my passing from this life, for the sake of my God. […] I pray for those who believe in and have reverence for God. Some of them may happen to inspect or come upon this writing which Patrick, a sinner without learning, wrote in Ireland. May none of them ever say that whatever little I did or made known to please God was done through ignorance. Instead, you can judge and believe in all truth that it was a gift of God. This is my confession before I die. --- *Quotations in this post are from the modern translation of Patrick’s Confession by Pádraig McCarthy, which can be read online and purchased in print from www.confessio.ie.

“What were you doing last night?” “Excuse me?!” “I said, what were you doing last night? After your spouse went off to bed, what were you doing?” Does this question make you feel defensive? Am I stepping over your boundaries? Do you feel the urge to tell me to shove it? In the nicest possible way, of course, because you’re a church leader. Today, accountability. Accountability is one of those buzzwords, which cause people to nod sagely and say, “Oh yes, very important, very important.” The problem is, hardly anyone ever asks a church leader if they’re in relationships of accountability, let alone what the word actually means. Here are some vain attempts: “So, *Rev. Smith, are you, er, meeting with anyone right now?” “Oh yes, I am.” Sum total of useful information: zero. “Do you have a group of people who hold you accountable, *Rev.?” “Oh, yes I do.” Slightly better, but still well short of satisfactory. Who are these people? What is the *Rev.’s understanding of accountability? And most importantly, who keeps the *Rev. accountable for the frequency of his meetings? What is accountability and what function does it serve? In recent weeks and months, the church has had several incidents of high-profile Christian leaders/speakers who have fallen. Very badly. Abuse of power and position. Sexual indiscretions. No, let me use the right word. Abuse. You may have read the stories; you may have avoided them. In almost every case, the famous Christian speaker/leader has had woeful accountability. Strike that. No accountability. In fact, sometimes the deficiencies within the organisation or church were so extraordinary that it’s mystifying that the person managed to get away with their behaviour. Furthermore, when the famous fall, they drag others with them. The gospel of our Lord is never advanced by these events. It always suffers damage. So what is the function of accountability? Well, at the very minimum, it’s to avoid these headline-grabbing events which do so much damage. But what about us? Most of us aren’t headline material, yet we still need accountability. What is it? At its core, it’s the process of opening one’s life up to examination and questioning by people who love and care for us. Its purpose is to make us better people, better leaders. Every leader, I believe, should be accountable to a group of friends of the same gender. Two or three others who meet with us reasonably frequently. But more to the point, it should be a group of friends who love and care for us AND are brave enough to ask us hard questions. Here are some possible options: • Have you been viewing pornography? • Are you hiding anything from your spouse? • Do you think you have an anger problem? • Do you involve God when you make financial choices? Any examples? • Is there anything that is taking up too much of your time? • How honest are you with your tax returns? • Describe your most challenging family relationship right now. • What is God actually teaching you right now? If you’re uncomfortable with some of these questions, you could simply opt for a catch-all question: Have you done anything this past week/month which causes you shame? Of course a group like this isn’t ONLY focused on unearthing bad behaviour, it’s much more than that. But unless it includes the kinds of questions I’ve listed above, it doesn’t rise to the definition of accountability. Not really. Because accountability entails the idea of ‘giving an account.’ It, therefore, means exploring those areas of our lives which we would prefer to keep hidden. It’s done in the hope that the answers to these questions will eventually cease causing unease and discomfort. Why is it important to be held accountable? In short, because we need protecting from ourselves. Listen to Jesus. For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come – sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. Mark 7.21-22 Then add in the words of St. Paul in Romans 7. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing. Rom 7.18-19 Finally, there’s the famous verse in Jeremiah. The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? Jer 17.9 Are we new creations? Yes indeed, but as we all know, we’re a work in progress. Most leaders I know offer two reasons for not setting up an accountability group. It’s too difficult. I live in a remote area and I really don’t have the ability to meet with two others. I’m not sure I could name two others who would be suitable. I can see this a good idea, but I just haven’t got round to it. In response to the second of these, please see my post on procrastination. The road to the bad place is paved with good intentions, a hokey saying perhaps, but one that contains a warning. Excuses are excuses, even when they’re called reasons. To address the first objection, here’s a word: Zoom. But now I must stop and pull back for a moment. The purpose of our blog posts here at Living Leadership is never to load our readers up with impossible demands. It’s hard enough being a leader without another person taking us to task. Instead, the purpose of our posts is to provide insight perhaps, encourage, and challenge, all with the goal of helping our readers become better leaders, better people. I wonder what you think of those Scriptures above. Do you see the need? Because it’s almost certain that your church won’t require you to be part of such a group. That’s extremely rare. It’s even rarer that they check to see that it’s functioning properly. No, if you’re going to do this, you have to see the need, and you have to take action yourself. No one is going to push you. This is up to you. What converts desire into action? Ah, now there’s a question. Perhaps, at a minimum, it happens when a person understands the benefits of the proposed behaviour. I can only speak from my own experience but I can testify to the tremendous benefits of meeting in a small group. In fact, the most enriching times in my spiritual life have been during those times. Have the groups risen to the level I’ve described above? Not always. It is hard to find a friend who is brave enough to ask those questions. But when they do, let me tell you what that means. It means they are willing to step out boldly for your sake. Because they love you. Because they want the best for you. That is walking in Jesus’ footsteps. That is making a sacrifice for another which entails a cost. That is genuine love. And who doesn’t want relationships of genuine love? *Other ministerial titles are available We are always updating our resources, including our growing database of articles. New this week: Redundancy and Unemployment. Peter Hicks provides practical advice and things you can say to those you are supporting through job loss.

Editor’s Note: The following post is based on a short talk by Richard Underwood at PRC At Home 2021, developed and expanded by Richard Collins. Competitiveness in the church. The very idea is distasteful. ‘Surely not,’ we say, ‘aren’t we all on the same team?’ Of course we are. And yet . . . During lockdown, who knows what’s going on out there? It’s enough to get the mind buzzing. Perhaps when we return to the building, the churches we serve will be half the size they were before. Where have all the people gone? Who will pay my salary? Why is the church down the road filled with my former church members? Was this because my Zoom services weren’t appealing enough? (See my post called Coveting during Covid.) Today, some wonderful (expanded) reflections from Richard Underwood to address our insecurities. From the first moment I considered the subject of competition, my mind immediately went to John 13 – the foot-washing incident. It is well known to many Christians, and communicates so much about service and humility. But, as with many of the things Jesus did and taught, there are deeper truths to be mined. Three things struck me . . . Jesus serves out of a sense of his identity. I’m struck by the way that John emphasizes what Jesus knows. In verse 1, we read, It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. (John 13.1a) Jesus’ knowledge surfaces again a bit later. In verse 3, we read, Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal . . . (John 13.3 & 14a) The conclusion we should draw? Jesus acts in the light of what he knows. About his future. About his Heavenly Father. About his calling and destiny. In the gospel of John, we see Jesus’ relationship with his heavenly father most clearly, climaxing in his prayer in chapter 17. It’s tempting to conclude that Jesus, in his divine nature, just coasted through life. He was God after all, we say. But that’s not how he lived at all. Instead, he provided a model for us of what it means to trust God. And he trusts because of what he knows about his Father and himself. What about us? What do we know about ourselves? Our identity, to the very core of our being, is ‘in Christ.’ So we must learn to serve out of our identity ‘in Christ.’ I love the way Jesus describes his disciples as ‘his own.’ We belong to him. We are his. We are safe. We are treasured. How reassuring that is. When we see ourselves that way – ‘his own,’ we’re released to serve without strings. We have nothing to prove and nothing to lose. Competition is based on winning and losing. In sports, this is celebrated; in business, it’s the way of the world, but in the church, it has no place. Because we ALL belong to Jesus. We are secure and safe and our service is for him, and for his glory alone. That’s liberating. Don’t for a moment think that this self-knowledge insulates Jesus from the pain of his circumstances. John tells us that Jesus was ‘troubled in spirit.’ So . . . Jesus serves even when he’s under pressure. Here is the Lord Jesus on the threshold of his own torment. And yet he’s the one who gets up from the table and washes dirty feet. This virus has called us to serve others even when our own hearts are breaking . . . to comfort others even when we feel desperately in need of comfort . . . to strengthen others even when we feel pitifully weak. We must learn to serve even when we’re under pressure. 2 Corinthians 12 immediately comes to mind. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Cor. 12.10). This is the way of God. In his upside-down kingdom, he lifts the lowly and humbles the proud. Here’s another gem from St. Paul: But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him (1 Cor. 1.27-29). Serving God under pressure is impossible without complete reliance on his strength, his grace, his mercy, his life-giving Spirit. Pressure illuminates the heart. If we rely on anything but our God, pressure will show us up for who we are. So who are you? Whom will you trust? Where will you go when you’re struggling? It’s really okay to be weak. For when you are weak, then you are, in fact, where you should be – in a position to depend completely on your Lord. Last one . . . Jesus teaches us to receive as well as give. Perhaps this is the hardest lesson of all. It certainly was for Simon Peter. As Jesus is working his way along the line, we can almost see him drawing his legs up under his cloak. But he’s got a lesson to learn—he needs to receive as well as to give. In the biblical narrative, this incident leaves a lasting impression on Peter. In his first letter, he writes, And all of you must put on the apron of humility, to serve one another; for the scripture says, “God resists the proud, but shows favour to the humble” (1 Peter. 5.5). You can imagine Peter as he writes. He’s remembering Jesus as he was moving down the line, a swirl of conflicting emotions filling his heart and mind. He hadn’t wanted to be washed at all. Not me, Lord! But Jesus had insisted. And so he had learned to submit; he had learned to receive as well as give. Leaders are so bound up with their identities as servants, sometimes it can be hard to receive. But leaders are no different to the rest of the body. We all need each other. Indeed, we were created to need each other, to receive from each other, to pray for each other, to love each other. Love calls for openness and vulnerability; love is humble, it is not proud. In acknowledging need, we do not cease to be a leader. We become a leader who’s prepared to let others in. That’s good and right. So learn to receive as well as give. I wonder which of these lessons speaks to you today? What is God saying to you as you read and reflect? For these lessons are timeless and true. At a time when leaders are weary and under pressure, let us look to Jesus who serves . . . Out of his identity. Even when under pressure. And teaches us to receive as well as give. To him be the glory.

What is vision? What does it mean to cast vision? Pastor Dave Ferguson describes it this way: Vision is the distance that exists between the reality of ‘what is’ and the possibility of ‘what could be.’ Let me start with some history. In the late ninth century, England was filled with warring Danes. They were everywhere. At one point, only Wessex in the south remained to be conquered. One leader stood alone: King Alfred*. He lost Winchester and was chased into a swamp. Alfred was a man with a vision. He believed that one day the Saxons would be united, drive the Danes from the land, and a country called England would be born. He believed this while his son was on the point of death in a swamp, and Wessex was overrun by Danes. Some might call that wishful thinking. It is not. It is vision. It sets Alfred apart as a great king. That’s why we call him Alfred the Great. Vision is communicated through our language and that language must concisely convey – in very few words – the reason why we exist. Where there is no vision, we are all just turning up and completing tasks and ceremonies. Where vision is weak and poorly communicated, our church members lose touch with the ultimate goal of their lives. Step forward what I call ‘the shapes and numbers.’ You’ve probably seen these. The Triangle. In. Up. Out. Our 4 values. Our 7 goals. There is nothing wrong with shapes and numbers. There is also nothing wrong with slogans – short, punchy statements which encapsulate what the church is about. There is a problem, however, when you need five minutes to explain your vision. That simply won’t work. Try telling me about the shape while pointing at a chart you’ve created, and we’re all looking at each other, wondering what’s going on. The reason is that the church has been around for two thousand years and the vision of the church hasn’t changed. It’s always been the same. Your job isn’t to come up with a whole new way of thinking. It’s to express the two goals of the church in precise language. Those two goals haven’t changed. YWAM managed it quite successfully when they came up with this one: Know God and Make Him Known. Six words. There isn’t anything else. You’re either equipping your people to know and love God better (discipling) or you’re equipping them to share the gospel (mission). That’s it. Your people are either getting to know God or sharing the whole gospel. That’s it. Perhaps you say, ‘well, Christ isn’t mentioned.’ You’re right, he isn’t. Shouldn’t we use the word ‘disciples?’ Sure, why not? YWAM hasn’t solved the vision thing. You too can have a go, but it must be clear and concise. Every extra word that’s not needed complicates and confuses people. The Three Musketeers are fearless, brave and united. Their motto is ‘all for one and one for all.’ Concise, clear and focused. Superb. The U.S. Marines have a two-word motto: Semper Fi. Always faithful. Its meaning? We fight for those who fight alongside us. Every Marine is committed to that value. Vision is embedded in the culture of the church you lead. All organisations, including churches, have cultures. A culture is ‘the way we do things around here.’ Cultures are the shared values, beliefs and behaviours of a group. The behaviours of the group are driven by the beliefs and values. Italians eat large meals with the family. Why? Because Italians value family above all things. So a new person joins your church. How quickly do they become aware of the culture, the expectations of what it means to be a part of the group? The vision statement, the words you use to cast vision are critical in creating that culture, because cultures are top-down. Your words – and how you communicate – will do this. You will either do it well or badly, but make no mistake, it will happen. Your vision – weak and ill-defined, or strong and clear – will come across to your people. Casting vision is an essential task for a leader because it helps create the culture of the group. Cultures are either strong or weak, depending primarily on the leadership. Top-down. Armies have strong cultures. The Sargent-Major says ‘jump,’ all the soldiers jump. Sadly, many church cultures are weak. People turn up on Sunday, shake hands with others, sing, pray, and leave. Others attend a mid-week Bible study, but that’s about it. Is that what you want? Because I guarantee you, your vision statement will never say: ‘Come to church on Sunday and talk to other people during the week.’ Sometimes all it takes is a little imagination. We’re just so swamped, we don’t have the energy to do any more than what’s in front of us. I get that. But there are things we can do to inspire our people. Have you thought about mission as a form of Mission Impossible? We’re going deep into enemy territory, courageously making contact with prisoners trapped by a wicked regime, which holds them captive. We are liberators, inviting them to take the hand of a Saviour who will free them, restore them to life and give them meaning and purpose. The importance of the mission cannot be overstated. It’s dangerous work at times, it takes sacrifice and dedication. Are you up for it? It’s the difference between life and death. If you want to get stuck in, you must be committed, and obey orders. Let’s go! Vision needs to connect people with the grand vision of why the church exists. We exist to make disciples. Now let’s go out and make some (conversion being the first step, of course). Discipleship and Mission – the two great tasks of the church. Let’s do it! Clear vision connects people with the why. It motivates them to live for Jesus. When your people lose the connection between their service and the why, they lose heart. The woman who still serves coffee, but constantly complains about everyone who leaves the sink dirty, she’s lost her vision. She’s still serving, but she’s forgotten why she started doing it. The man on AV, who doesn’t take direction and has become passive-aggressive, he’s just plodding along. He doesn’t know why he started in the first place. If you want to create a strong culture, in which everyone is inspired to live for Jesus with passion and energy, then think about how you’re casting vision. It won’t solve all your problems, but it is a vital first step. Creating a strong culture will take a lot more than just vision, but without it, the people will perish. They will lose heart. They need constant reminding about why they do what they do. Fortunately, churches have a culture of Sunday worship. Once a week, you have an opportunity to communicate vision, to inspire people with the why. The why for Christians is always Jesus. Show them Jesus, inspire them with how glorious he is, and you won’t go far wrong. Shapes and numbers will only help if they clarify the message. If they don’t, then ditch them. A leader with true vision equips the people to grow in knowledge of God, share the gospel, and do so right where they live. In Leicester, Perth, Swansea, Belfast, wherever you live. Give your people a vision of why your church exists, inspire them with a vision of Jesus, and . . . well, I as I said . . . You won’t go far wrong. *You can read his story in Bernard Cornwell’s wonderful Saxon series books, or watch ‘The Last Kingdom’ on Netflix. Cornwell’s books are, of course, fiction (Uhtred is a fictional character), and he moves some of the historical events around, but this series has a great deal of historical accuracy. Let’s just say I’m a fan. We are always updating our library of articles to equip you with resources for your ministry. This week we have added an article by Stephen McQuoid on Church Discipline.

This post is for leaders with a tendency to exhibit false modesty. Me? Surely not. I rest my case. Let me start with a quote: Leadership has nothing to do with rank. Leadership is a responsibility . . . I know many, many people who sit at the highest levels of organisations who are not leaders. They have authority, and we do what they tell us because they have authority over us, but we wouldn’t follow them. And yet I know many people who have made a choice . . . to look after the person on the left of them . . . and the right of them. And we would follow them anywhere. And that’s what leadership is; it’s the responsibility to take care of the people around us, the people with whom we work. - Leadership guru, Simon Sinek What is leadership? Is it accomplishing a set of tasks? Is it casting vision? Does it involve serving people? Is it all about power? If you’re a leader, then it’s critical that you have a clear idea of what leadership entails. If you don’t, you’ll probably just wander along accomplishing a set of tasks. Sermons. Meetings. Public prayer. And that’s not really leadership, is it? In fact, ‘just doing the job I was given’ feels very much like the man who was given a talent and buried it in the ground. ‘Hey, I just held onto what I was given.’ A bit harsh? Perhaps. Take another look at that quote from Simon Sinek. He’s not writing about the church; he’s writing primarily for those in business. Isn’t it fascinating, though, that he sees leadership in terms of service and care? Serve people. Care for them. Two fundamental Christian values. (For more on servant leadership, see Paul Coulter’s article.) They underpin so much of what we do in the church, and they are vital if you want to be a leader. So far, so obvious. But there’s something in there you might have missed. It’s this sentence . . . We would follow them anywhere. Leaders inspire. They provide a model for how to live. We follow leaders. Your people follow you. Because you’re the leader. This is good and right. At times, however, I sense an awkwardness in some quarters about taking on the role of a leader. It leads to false modesty. Me? I wear the fancy dress but I’m just part of a team. I’m not even the most important part. Excuse me, Uriah, but this isn’t working for me. Not all leaders are like this, of course, but some are. I’ve met them. (If you’re a power junkie, this post isn’t for you.) In fact, it looks like there might be a biblical precedent. When Paul warns the Corinthians against following him or Apollos, it almost looks like he’s downplaying the role of the leader. We’re all servants, aren’t we? We’re all the same: I'm just revved up and sometimes wear a fancy mic/sport a funny collar/grow an evangelical beard, but I'm – false modesty here – no more important than anyone else. True and completely false. At the same time. Seem odd? It is true that we’re all servants and God does indeed value us all equally. We are all loved by God, all the recipients of his grace. But it is NOT true in terms of the influence we each hold within the community. As Peter Scazzero writes, As go the leaders, so goes the church. The head of the church is Christ, and our people ultimately answer to their Lord. However, it doesn’t follow that because all in the church answer to God, and all are called to be servants, the leader ‘is therefore just the same as everyone else in the community.’ Churches, like most organisations, are usually top-down cultures. St. Paul knew this. That’s why he wrote these words to the Corinthians: Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ. 1 Cor. 11.1a Bold words. It takes courage to be a leader. Many people are watching you, because the culture is top-down. And in the church, people have high expectations. Perhaps you’re terrified of being seen as proud. Imitate me? That’s pride, isn’t it? Isn’t selfless humility the template for Christian service? Was St. Paul proud? I don’t think so. I believe he was bravely taking on the mantle of leadership. If you want to be a servant leader, or rather, as Paul Coulter puts it, ‘a servant willing to fulfil the task of leadership,’ then you must bravely step forward and lead. Accept that your life provides a model. That’s part of the job. Acknowledge that not just your expertise but also your character is under review all the time. Who you are is reflected in the life you lead, and that life, while observed by many, is laid down in service to your Lord. The only way to cope with the pressure which arises from a community’s expectations, is to walk the path of humility followed by Christ. Humility isn’t saying ‘oh don’t look at me. I’m just the same as everyone else.’ It’s being faithful with the tasks laid before you, honouring Christ in all you do. Self-deprecation can be very funny, but it’s not always honest. At times, it can even be disingenuous – ‘not me,’ which really means ‘please love me.’ So be honest. Stand up and be counted. Lead your people to their Saviour. Help them see him afresh every time you teach or preach. Be a leader whom people want to follow, because they see their Saviour’s Spirit living within you. As you imitate Christ, your people will see him more clearly, follow him more nearly, love him more dearly. You got it . . . day by day. We are constantly updating our library of resources. The latest addition to our library of articles is Is My Church Homophobic? - detailing lessons learnt about being part of the local church by a same-sex attracted christian.

We know that there are so many brilliant resources out there that encourage us to grow in godly character and that equip us for leading well. We also know that it can be hard to work out what resources are most helpful for your circumstances and worth the time required to read them. To help you sort through these resources, we are going to start occasionally publishing some reviews of brand-new and classic books. Below is our first of these reviews for a new book out this month: Being the Bad Guys, Stephen McAlpine, The Good Book Company, 2021, 144 pages, ISBN: 9781784985981, List price: £8.99 Christianity is now the ‘bad guy’ in the eyes of Western culture and we need “to refuse to be surprised, confused, despairing and mad about it, and find a way to be calm, clear-sighted, confident and even joyful in it” (p.11). That is Stephen McAlpine’s call in this fresh new book on Christian living in contemporary Western culture. Too readily, he suggests, we can become angry at our sense of victimhood in a culture that seems to have turned against us. When we recognised that Christian influence was dwindling, we built strategies for cultural engagement on the assumption that Christianity would be one voice given a fair hearing in a competing public square, but it is time to realise that we are, in fact, judged as being a toxic legacy of a harmful past. We must rethink how to respond. In a clear and engaging style of writing honed in the blogosphere, McAlpine serves as a helpful guide on that journey. Being the Bad Guys begins by analysing the turn against Christianity in Western culture with the help of thinkers like philosopher Charles Taylor and political theorist Dale Kuehne. He then challenges us to recognise that this should not surprise us – after all, “Everything that is hazardous about the gospel is in plain sight in the gospel” (p.32) – the biblical story repeatedly tells us that we must suffer now and receive glory later. Building on this foundation, the central section of the book explores what it means to be the ‘bad guys’ in three respects: how we understand sex and sexuality (McApline defends his frequent references to this issue on the basis that it is not Christians but the culture that obsesses over it), how we speak about justice and injustice and whether the path to human ‘flourishing’ is self-actualisation or self-denial. In the final section, McAlpine turns to the practical outworking of three strategies for being the best ‘bad guys’ we can be, relating to church, the workplace and living simultaneously as citizens of God’s kingdom and of the earthly cities we inhabit. There is, undoubtedly, a great need for Christians to understand the cultural moment we live in and to plan to engage faithfully in it. McAlpine has given us a very clear and helpful tool in doing so. His final chapters are immensely valuable, especially in his very practical advice for faithfulness in the workplace and as the church. It was refreshing to read his constructive and realistic ideas. He deftly avoids veering into the morasses that line either side of the road of faithfulness in this moment: on one hand, defeatist resignation to dwindling influence, and on the other, a hubristic belief that we can win back the West if we just adopt the right tactics. McAlpine charts a middle path by acknowledging the Church’s culpability in past wrongs and the culture’s hostility to us whilst calling us to see our potential to be a source of help and healing for those who will suffer because of secularism and individualism. Pastors and leaders will find precious nuggets in this book to help them prepare their people, in McAlpine’s words, “for the week they will be having, not the week you will be having” (p.115). That task of equipping the saints for life in a hostile environment must, surely, be central to the pastor’s ministry in this age. Being the Bad Guys will assist in it. The subjects this book touches on – especially the LGBTQI movement and its implications – are vast and complex. Inevitably, in a book of this size, analysis will be relatively superficial. That is not a problem in itself, and I think McAlpine is right insofar as he goes, but I found myself looking in vain for pointers to more thorough analyses as the book makes sparse use of quotations and offers no guidance to additional sources. By way of example, readers who want a deeper understanding of the main example that runs through the book – gender and sexual identity – should look to Ryan Anderson’s When Harry Became Sally (Encounter, 2018) and Glynn Harrison’s A Better Story (IVP, 2017). There are also concepts that McAlpine clearly thinks are important but does not fully explain, such as the buzzword ‘flourishing’, which he uses repeatedly. While he is clear that Christians should understand ‘flourishing’ differently predominant culture, he never quite explains what that vision is or why he finds the word helpful at all. Even the central point of being the bad guys was not developed quite as clearly as I hoped, into a crystal clear vision of ‘the good’. McAlpine’s practical, strategic and thoroughly biblical advice for action is the book’s greatest strength. In framing it, he takes us to a smorgasbord of biblical texts and images. That approach is helpful and he handles each of these responsibly, but the lack of sustained focus on any one book and the absence of a synthesis of ideas makes his case a little less coherent than it could be. In places, the book felt more like a collection of blogs peppered with tactical suggestions than a coherent strategy. Readers, especially those with a teaching ministry, may want to follow the leads the book gives towards a more complete biblical theology of cultural engagement. In doing so, they will need to engage with issues not fully addressed in this book, such as the tension between our duty to submit to the authorities and to work for change towards what is good and the ways in which the church may support those members who MacAlpine (rightly) suggests will find themselves losing jobs because of faithfulness to Scripture. Being the Bad Guys is certainly worth a read and you won’t find it at all sluggish. It strikes a healthy balance between exposing the deficiencies in how we may have responded to challenges and reminding us of our hope in God’s ultimate purposes. I can imagine it would stimulate healthy discussion in a ‘book club’ or small group. Pastors could benefit a great deal from hearing the responses of church members as the book resonates with and challenges them. Above all, though, I am thankful to McAlpine for challenging me personally to recommit myself to live faithfully for Jesus in a world that says I shouldn’t. You can buy your own copy of Being The Bad Guys on the publishers website, or from any of your usual retailers. Our copy was kindly given to us by The Good Book Company for fair review. The opinions expressed in this review, and the others we undertake, represent our impartial and honest appraisal of the book. The links in this post are affiliate links. This means if you purchase the book through these links we will receive a small commission from that sale which we can use to further our ministries. This does not add anything to the price of the book you purchase.

What’s the purpose of our Pastoral Refreshment Conferences? Well, it pretty much says it on the tin. We encourage Christian leaders and spouses in the grace of God. Our goal is to care for the souls of those who pour themselves out to feed and nourish others. It’s a moment in time when we invite leaders to come and be fed. Some have called it a grace-oasis and ‘the genuine antidote to Christian conferences.’ Pick any normal year, and we’d be meeting face-to-face; we’d be worshiping together, there would be prayer, teaching from God’s Word, good food, fellowship and relaxation. But 2021 isn’t any normal year. So we had to ask which parts of this – if any – could be mirrored online. Most know how exhausting Zoom can be. And however nice it is to see people on a screen, it’s just not the same. What to do? Could we organise a conference online? After a lot of prayer, and with input from a dream team of volunteers, we decided that we could. At least, we’d try. So Pastoral Refreshment at Home came into being. Can you worship together online? Turns out you can! Can you receive soul-nourishing teaching through a screen? Absolutely. Small group discussion, praying together in groups? Devotional times? Yes to all of those. Breakout sessions for mining the wisdom of the community? Not a problem. But what about fellowship? What about good food? We encouraged our delegates to step away from their work. We suggested that they turn off email (including notifications) and create a restful space in their homes. What about getting ready with some home-made cakes or ordering a take-away? Many took up the challenge and then took advantage of the informal lunchrooms and lounges we offered on Zoom. ‘How wonderful to see you! How have you been!?’ The joy of seeing friends after a long absence turns out to be possible through a screen. Praise God. Our teaching was led by Matt Searles, who reflected on the need to rest in God, and enjoy the sweetness of Jesus and the gospel. He spoke into all our lives about the importance of resisting the perpetual demands of our more-bricks-less-straw tendencies. He set the tone beautifully. Later on, Ray and Jani Ortlund joined us from Nashville Tennessee to talk about churches being places of deep friendship in Christ. Living Leadership staff and Associates* were available during and after the conference to pray with people. By God’s grace it was a terrific day and a half, a real oasis amidst the struggles we all face during a pandemic. We heard from God; we were refreshed. It was wonderful. Sure, it wasn’t the same as meeting up face-to-face. Nevertheless, there was a real sense of God’s presence, and of him providing a feast for us. There was a lovely sense of connectedness and encouragement among the group. In addition, going online meant that people could join from around Europe. All in all, Pastoral Refreshment at Home exceeded my highest expectations. Many find Zoom challenging, we know, but the two days we shared together online were refreshing and uplifting. It was worth all the effort that went into it and it turns out that God is more than able to work through online platforms. * The Living Leadership Associates’ Network provides gifted people, who are available to encourage Christian leaders and spouses all over the UK and Ireland. If you would value someone to walk with or mentor you on your leadership journey, please get in touch.

You are in your Mind Palace. You head for the Procrastination Room. Well, that was your intention before you became distracted. Okay, let’s get the jokes out of the way first. The Procrastination Room – Maybe next time . . . The Procrastination Room – I’ve been meaning to go in there, but never seem to find the time. Heading there right now . . . right now . . . I promise . . . hold on, is that a tea cup that needs washing up? Let me tell you a secret. There is NO Procrastination Room. It doesn’t exist. Instead, procrastination is the aroma in your Mind Palace that prevents you from entering rooms that you really should visit. Procrastination seems like a joke – hence the amusing observations above – but in reality it’s deadly serious. And it could be destroying you. ‘I’m just putting that off’ seems so innocuous, doesn’t it? The little excuses we give ourselves for why we haven’t managed to make time for something. But it’s because our excuses seem so unimportant that procrastination is so insidious. In truth, it can quite literally rob us of our lives. Benjamin Franklin once said, ‘Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today.’ Well, that sounds just fine and dandy, but what does that even mean? Stop looking at me like that. I could do any number of things today, but I can’t do them all, can I? Ben Franklin should stick to his eyeglasses and his politics! You got it. We often make excuses for our procrastination instead of facing up to it. So what’s going on? Why do we do it? Today, two reasons worth considering. Disorganisation. We live disordered lives, running from one thing to another and avoiding things which require more of us. That one requires a phone call. You don’t like the phone. You put it off. That one can’t be solved without a conversation with your boss and then figuring out how to respond. You don’t have the energy for that. So you put it off. You kick it down the road. Internally, you say ‘I will do it eventually,’ but that is meaningless and you know it. We all have different personality types. I get that. But some things we all share. And one of them is time. We all have 24 hours in the day. Psalm 90.2 says, Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Number our days. Time is precious. It matters how we order our lives, since our lives are a gift from God. Disorganisation speaks of an ill-disciplined life. Putting things off betrays a person who hasn’t faced up to some of the challenging aspects of life. Instead of seeking help, we put things off. Instead of facing up to reality, we hope that by putting things off, they will go away. We lie to ourselves. Procrastination is often based on a lie. It says, ‘I can’t’ or ‘I don’t know how.’ Neither of these is true. Not only that but inability isn’t really the driving force. It’s fear. Indeed, fear is one of the prime engines behind so much of what we do. It doesn’t need a blog post. It needs an entire book. Here are just a few thoughts, which will have to suffice. The reason procrastination is so insidious is because it prevents us tackling painful and difficult areas of our lives. In your Mind Palace, you wander past the Unresolved Conflict Room. You hurry past that one. On the left is a door marked Damaged Family Relationships. That one fills you with terror. But then further down is a door marked ‘Communication with my Spouse.’ You want to go in, but again, you’re frightened, so you walk past. Best to leave all of that until another day. All because of fear. Fear of conflict. Fear of pain. Fear of failure. Fear of looking inside. There are so many things that stoke fear. So we ingest another lie: procrastination works just fine. And it does, if you want to accept a life clothed with fear. Is procrastination a sin? The word doesn’t appear in the Bible to my knowledge, but the Scriptures have a lot to say about how to live well. Paul writes to the Colossians, Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters. (Col 3.23a) Avoiding painful areas of our lives isn’t a solution. It’s a coping mechanism. If you want to stop procrastinating, then at some point, you’ll have to face it head on. The Bible contains a great deal of wisdom about how to deal with fear. How often do we reference Joshua before he enters the Promised Land? Be strong and courageous! You’ve probably preached a sermon or five on that one. And then there’s this beauty from the Apostle John. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. 1 John 4.18a. I’ve often thought that the opposite of faith isn’t doubt, but fear. We can either live with our fears or face them. We can either embrace the love of God, and seek his help, or continue to avoid painful issues. The writer, Susan Jeffers, once wrote a book entitled, Feel the fear and Do It Anyway. I like that. If you wait until you’re no longer afraid, then you will continue procrastinating for the rest of your life. So you can put off dealing with procrastination, or – joking aside – you can face up to it. Your response is not a joke; it’s deadly serious. In fact, right now, why don’t you write down one area of your life you’ve been avoiding? It could be a conversation with your mother; it could be with your co-worker. It could be something extremely challenging or it could be a neighbour who keeps leaving his bin on your driveway. But choose one. Do it now. Then meditate and feed on John’s words. Perfect love drives out fear. Feel the fear – it’s okay to admit that you’re frightened – but then gird up your courage, seek God in faith, and go and find that person. Do it today. Not tomorrow. That’s essential. God is faithful and compassionate. He promises us that he is with us at all times and in all places. He is especially close to those who walk with him in faith. As the Lord said to his servant, Joshua, Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

Editor’s Note: This blog post includes a description of the movie, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. Warning: it contains spoilers. One of the films that has moved me most deeply over recent years has been The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, released in 2008. During World War II, eight-year-old Bruno and his family leave Berlin to take up residence near the concentration camp where his father has just been appointed commandant. Unhappy and lonely, he wanders behind his house one day and discovers another world—a world behind barbed wire. In this dystopian world, he encounters Shmuel, a Jewish boy about his age. Though the barbed wire fence of the camp separates them, the boys begin a forbidden friendship. Bruno sneaks Shmuel food and plays board games with him, oblivious to the real nature of their surroundings. After a major hitch in their relationship, Bruno seeks to redeem himself by helping Shmuel find his father who has gone ‘missing’ inside the camp. Donning a prisoner’s striped outfit and a cap to cover his unshaven head, Bruno digs his way under the fence to join Shmuel. He is shocked to see the many sick and weak-looking Jews. Before long, Nazi guards take the boys on a march with some of the other inmates. Back home, Bruno's disappearance has been noticed and the family mounts a desperate search. A dog tracks Bruno's scent to his discarded clothing outside the fence. As his commandant-father enters the camp, Bruno, along with Shmuel and the other inmates, is being shepherded into a changing room where he is told to remove his clothes for a ‘shower.’ The tension rises as we see them being packed into a gas chamber as the lights go out. At first, we can’t believe the horror that’s beginning to unfold before our eyes. We gasp as we watch a guard pour out Zyklon B pellets and the prisoners—including Bruno – begin to panic. We feel the knot tighten in his father’s stomach as he realises that a gassing is taking place, and he cries out his son's name. Back at the fence, we watch his mother and sister fall to their knees in despair as they hear the father's cries. The film ends with a shot of the closed door of the now silent gas chamber. The prisoners, including Bruno and Shmuel, have all been killed. So what’s your response? What do you see? The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas is a haunting film, one I never want to watch again. It deals with the Holocaust in such an arresting manner and packs a final brutal punch. As I watched, I found it impossible to miss the points of contact with the gospel narratives. As well as the points of departure. Imagine yourself among the angelic throng, with a heaven’s eye view of history. You watch in astonishment as your hero, the Lord Jesus, leaves the comforts of his Father’s house, dons human clothes and enters the dystopian world of human beings. Like Bruno, he does more than just offer companionship; he truly enters their world. He crawls under the barbed wire and joins them. He shares a human frame, eats the same food, walks the same paths, feels the same sun on his back as the one that shines on those he has come to serve. You watch in admiration as he encounters the sick and heals them... the hungry and feeds them... the guilty and forgives them, sending them on their way with joy in their hearts. Finally, you watch in disbelief as these ungrateful humans take the dear Lord Jesus, strip him of every ounce of his dignity, and nail him in public disgrace to a rough Roman cross. In The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, Bruno unwittingly joins Shmuel in the dangerous and shocking world of a concentration camp. He has no idea of the danger he is in. The poignancy and the tragedy arise from his innocence and naïveté. How would a ten-year-old be expected to understand what was going on? As he walks with his friend, he does so innocently. Unaware of what he’s facing. He’s like a lamb to the slaughter. That’s a loaded phrase, referring as it does to the Jewish sacrificial system. As we watch Bruno’s parents, especially his father, we experience contrasting emotions – a mark of great drama. We sympathise with him as his son goes to his death, but we’re also torn. This is a man who runs a death camp. A guilty man. Innocence and guilt. They’re central to the story. And so they are in the gospel stories. The Lord Jesus is the sacrificial lamb, the Passover lamb, led to the slaughter by guilty men. Yet he himself is innocent of all the charges. He enters not unwittingly but willingly, sent by his heavenly Father. Throughout his trial, flogging and execution, he freely gives himself up for those he loves. Though innocent himself, he demonstrates love for his enemies. The guilty are the ones he loves and he takes upon himself their sin and their shame. Mercifully, the gospel story isn’t a work of fiction. It is all heart-breakingly and wonderfully true. It evokes in us the strongest emotions, and challenges us with the deepest of questions. Unlike The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, this story demands to be read again and again, until we are able to see the bright, shining truth which lies at its heart. The Lord Jesus came to save us - the innocent taking the place of the guilty. To liberate us! When the American soldiers liberated concentration camps in Eastern Europe in 1945, they were shocked by what they saw: men and women barely alive, many skeletal, almost dead. How different is the liberation which Jesus brings. In his Resurrection, he has conquered death and he will one day destroy the dystopian world we have created. No more death camps. No more suffering. No more tears. One day, he will shatter the chains... tear down the barbed wire... and set the captives free. For good. Along with the whole of creation. In the meantime, praise God that in his Word and by his Spirit, we inmates are still finding Jesus at work behind the barbed wire. We are continuing to add to our library of useful resources to help you in life and ministry. New this week: Helena Wilkinson provides helpful information and advice for those supporting people with eating disorders. Find out more

Words are highly revealing. And powerful. Indeed, the power of words can hardly be under-estimated. Not only did God speak creation into existence, but his supreme revelation is through the Word, Jesus. And this revelation is described in the Word of God, the Bible. In Christian thought, words have immense power. They create, they exert power, they both build up and destroy. Much more could be said, but today I’d like to focus on just two uses of our words. One to lift, the other to warn. First, encouragement. It should go without saying that leaders should be in the business of encouragement. It costs us little, it’s in short supply nowadays, and its benefits are off the charts. Just a few well-chosen words can quite literally make a person’s day. Or week. So a couple of tips on how to encourage your people. Never be vague. Always be specific. It’s no good saying, ‘thanks for all the work you do, Jennie.’ Jennie’s already thinking, ‘you don’t really know what I do, do you? You’re just giving me the socially appropriate response.’ Instead, when you speak to Ken, the man who always stays late to clean up, say, ‘Ken, I’ve noticed that you’re often the one who goes the extra mile, to clean up when others have left the building. I want to tell you how much I appreciate that.’ Be specific. Why? The same reason you use people’s names. It shows you’re interested in the details of their lives. ‘Thank you everyone’ is not enough. So be specific and stop what you’re doing. Look them in the eyes and tell them what it is you’re seeing and why you’re grateful. Second, frequency. Here it’s the Goldilocks principle. Don’t overdo it or underdo it. Aim for ‘just right.’ The only way that’s going to happen is to be intentional about it. If it’s just an afterthought, then the words you use won’t contain the sincerity of heart which you intend. Why is encouragement so important? Encouraging words bind up our souls. They speak into the secret places of our hearts, where we are wounded and suffer from the false pictures we carry of ourselves. Kind words heal and lift the spirits. But only when they’re offered sincerely, carefully and with real attention to detail. Now, a warning about words. I started by saying that words are highly revealing. The irony is that sometimes we believe that we can use our words and still hide. This is particularly the case when, as leaders, we exercise power. Church leaders have an extremely complicated and awkward relationship with the word power, not to mention the word authority. Some enjoy using power, but most – certainly the ones I know – they squirm at the very mention of the word. Me? Exercise power? I don’t do that. But you do, I’m afraid. You do exercise power. All leaders exercise power. They either do it well or badly. If you don’t do it, you’re not a leader. Which brings us back to our words. In the process of exercising power, church leaders are no different to any other leader. They are seeking to lead a group in a particular direction and to do that, words are central. The problem – and this is the warning – is that we’re not honest with ourselves about how we do this. So we become manipulative. We’re frightened to come out with what we want, so we use various techniques to achieve our goals. Here are just a few: Pity me – My job is so difficult right now. (Translation: Sympathise with me. That way, you’re more likely to agree with me.) Insider – I’m only telling you this, because I trust you. I haven’t told Jennie yet. Do you think this is the best plan? Ego massage – Jim, you did such a great job on Sunday. And you know that Bill isn’t the easiest to work with, so I’m just wondering if you’d consider taking over on the AV. Belittling – You know, it’s important to give people a chance but Kathy’s just not cut out for this task. Last week was an embarrassment, wasn’t it? I’m sure she’d be great, but just in a different role. Vote stacking – Carl, it was great to have you over for lunch the other day. So glad we got to know your family a little better. So you probably know we’re deciding on the plans for the new building. Just wanted to make sure that you’re on board when it comes to a vote. So here’s the thing. You may not see yourself in any of those. I hope you don’t. But you still need to be careful about manipulation. It is one of the most insidious character traits of all, because we pretend we’re not doing it, when, in truth, that’s exactly what we’re doing. We just won’t look ourselves in the mirror and admit to our behaviour. Why do we do it? Fear, mostly. How to avoid it? How to lead with a pure heart? Through confession. Through wise counsel. And by growing in self-knowledge. That requires a lifetime of honesty before God’s throne. We do an awful lot of pretending in our human relationships, but we all know it’s impossible to fool God. He sees right through us. He knows us better than we know ourselves. Plumbing the depths of our broken, sinful human desires can only be done by inviting God’s Spirit to do a deep work in our hearts. So this week, be especially conscious of how you use your words. You can’t go wrong if you seek to encourage. The rewards are rich and often long-lasting. But when it comes to the exercise of power, be especially cautious of the temptation to manipulate. Seek the Lord’s help with an honest, open heart. He is a Wonderful Counsellor, a very present help in times of trouble. There is nothing to fear when we commit our ways to him. Do so at the beginning of each day.

So how are you doing today? I ask that because yesterday I enjoyed the company of our Associates here at Living Leadership, and we discussed the mood amongst church leaders. Among us, we’re connected to a lot of leaders. The news wasn’t good. Many of us spoke of the overwhelming tiredness among leaders, as well as the ongoing struggle to lead well during the pandemic. One of us used this phrase: ‘they’re being buffeted.’ Buffeted. A very evocative word. Almost onomatopoeic. Wind buffets. So do the storms of life. I remember an occasion when sailing on my father’s boat, that a sheet (rope) became unhooked from the genoa (large sail at the front of the boat). There was a cleat on the end which started flicking about violently in the wind. It was quite dangerous. Everyone began shouting at each other, demanding that someone else catch hold of the sheet. We were too slow. It eventually flicked into the sail and sliced it like a knife. Sail ruined. Buffeting like that causes damage. The sail needed to be anchored, tied down, so that it could function properly. And that’s what all leaders need – to be anchored, to be connected to God when the wind is blowing hard. During the pandemic, the wind is blowing very hard. Some are finding it hard to stay on their feet. As I listened to some of the Associates yesterday, I heard some words of wisdom which I’d like to share with you today. They were words to help you, as a leader, to remain connected to God, to encourage you as you lead. I set aside the post I’d originally written, because I believe that God was speaking, and he desires for you to hear his voice. I hope the following words will bless you. Permission to Breathe – One person told us that in counselling a leader recently, they used this phrase, ‘you have permission to breathe.’* Right now, some leaders feel like they’re suffocating. Or drowning. Or crumbling. Pick your own metaphor. Burdened by all the demands, many leaders are struggling to cope. So here’s what my friend was saying. He’s saying this to all those who would hear: You have permission to stop and spend time with God. Stop all the activity. Stop all the people pleasing. Stop the meetings, if you have to, and spend time with God. Don’t talk about it. Do it. In Genesis, God breathes life into Adam. The Hebrew term ‘ruach’ is a powerful one meaning spirit, wind or mind. In Genesis, it is God’s ‘ruach,’ his Spirit, which is breathed into the earth. A human being in God’s image emerges. So when my friend counsels, ‘you have permission to breathe,’ he’s saying, your primary purpose in life is to live in God. In Christ, to use another phrase. To live empowered by the Spirit. Filled with his breath. John 15 immediately comes to mind. He is the Vine; we are the branches. During this pandemic, you have the opportunity to spend time with God. During our meeting, two phrases/words jumped out at me. One was ‘content creator’; the other was ‘character.’ Leaders sometimes see themselves as ‘content creators.’ It’s a consumerist view of the leader’s role. Leaders spend a lot of time talking about God, but with the busyness, they don’t always spend enough time talking TO God. Sermons yes. Meetings, yes. Decision-making, yes. But what about the time you spend with God? If this is a word for you, receive it. Take some time – a half day, a whole day or more – to sit before God and enjoy him. Let me assure you that your character has a far greater impact on your church members than your content. They watch how you live, and running, running, running may be your custom, but it’s not worth anything if you’re not centred upon your God. That’s how your character is formed. (Gal. 4.19b – until Christ is formed in you.) And that takes time. So don’t put it off. You have permission to breathe. Listen to the Spirit – This word came from a lady with decades of experience in the mission field. She told us that among the persecuted church, they listen to the Spirit and they do what he tells them to do. They are courageous, with hearts fully committed to their God. Leaders can sometimes feel like they’re carrying their church body. It’s quite likely that they know the right theology – that Christ is the Head of the Church – but they don’t live it. This is especially true if you’re a people pleaser. (See blog posts on this topic, here, here, and here.) I truly believe that these two words from our Associates are for you, dear reader. They are, of course, connected. You have permission to breathe. You are filled with God’s Spirit. You have permission to spend time with your God. As much as you desire. If that means you need to stop doing other things, then so be it. Be courageous and do it. Spend time with your Saviour. Then listen to God’s Spirit. His Spirit never strays from the revealed Word of God. Our Three-in-One God is consistent in what he says. Yet he can and does speak today to those who listen. But only if you take the time to sit in his presence. Remember, you have permission to breathe. To drive the point home, consider this. One day, the pandemic will be over. When you look back, will you say to yourself, ‘I managed to work out how to put everything on Zoom?’ Or ‘At least I didn’t pass out?’ Or will you say, ‘The pandemic was a period when I learned how to pray, when I drew close to my Saviour in a way I had never done before?’ May I entreat you right now to stop and pray? What is the Lord saying to you? How will you respond? Our God is faithful and good. He will speak to you. I believe it. *Just to be clear, our team members don't share specifics of what people say to them in our meetings - we maintain our commitment to confidentiality as stated in our working documents (available on request) We are always expanding our resource library. Why not check out our recently published article on supporting those who have received a terminal diagnosis?

Goodbye 2020. Hello 2021. An ending followed by a beginning. We start the new year with the sincere hope that we’re reaching the end of a pandemic. We’ve finally reached the end of our negotiations with the EU; now we’re hoping for a new beginning. Beginnings and endings. So where shall I start? At the beginning, of course! With some wonderful opening lines. The opening line of a story is often the most important (and sometimes the most memorable) of all. Here are some of my favourites. "t is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. - Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen. This one’s a real treasure; it manages to give us a witty, satirical comment on the nature of early 19th century society while also hinting at the plot of the entire novel. All in one sentence. We’re about to read a story about a wealthy single man’s romantic association with a woman, ending in marriage. Superb. What about this one? He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. - The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway. The writer gives us the main protagonist, the setting, and the problem which he must overcome. All in one sentence. No extra words. Sharp, precise writing. And then this one. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. 1984, George Orwell. The first sentence of George Orwell’s famous dystopian novel is outstanding; it’s one of the most memorable in all of English literature. There is an uneasy contrast between the two clauses which compose the sentence. Cold day in April – nothing unexpected. But clocks striking thirteen? Something feels off. The two clauses grate against each other. Sure enough, this isn’t a reference to a 24-hour clock, but an old saying about ‘lack of credibility.’ When a clock strikes thirteen, something’s wrong and we therefore shouldn’t trust anything that has come before. Notice ALL the clocks are striking thirteen. This will be a book about a whole society, one in which nothing is trustworthy. As it turns out, truth is simply what the state says it is. It’s a book with huge philosophical aspirations, and so well written, it deserves to be considered among the greatest ever written. To this list, we must now add the greatest opening line of them all. I concede that John 1.1 is right up there, but only because of what came before. Genesis 1.1. In the beginning God created . . . boom! Create. A verb with tremendous power. In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth . . . boom, boom, boom! Can you not feel the explosive nature of the writing? In seven Hebrew words – the number seven symbolising perfection – we have an account for the existence of all things. In the beginning. This book intends to take on the pagan view of existence – the cycle of birth and death endlessly repeating. Not in Genesis. Now history moves forward in a linear direction, destroying the pagan worldview with its narrative power. Elohim – the Hebrew term designating God as creator. Heavens and earth. The Hebrew words do not signify two distinct things but one – the entirety of the created order, the whole cosmos. The story of God begins with the creation of all things. A story with a character this powerful, this transcendent, means the story itself is unique. It’s certainly no mere re-telling of the Babylonian creation myths. No, this Elohim will bestride every page that follows. How could it be otherwise? This isn’t a god. It’s THE God. The one and only creator of all things. What a start to a book. But there’s something else which is distinct in Genesis, and indeed in almost every book of the Bible. They all contain hints, rumours, suggestions of the ending. In fact, the first one appears right at the beginning. In Genesis 3, when God speaks judgement over the serpent, he says that Eve’s offspring ‘will crush your head and you will strike his heel.’ The story has only just begun, and yet the writer of Genesis is already hinting at the ending. I realise that the exegesis is disputed, but as Christians, we read these words and our hearts thrill to their meaning. As in all the best stories, the precise nature of the words is left rather vague, inviting us into the story, to discover in the narrative flow their true meaning. Yet we who believe, we anticipate victory. We know that God will overcome the darkness. Evil will not triumph. God will. The serpent’s head will be crushed. How? We do not know. So read on, dear reader. Turn the page. As we do, as we read the Law and the Prophets, we’re confronted with both judgement and hope, the twin themes of the Old Testament. Hope is where we find our ending. All that has gone wrong in Israel will be put right one day when a Mashiach, a Messiah, comes. When he comes, God will come and save his people. And so he arrives in Bethlehem and does indeed save his people, though our definition of ‘his people’ is transformed, especially in Luke’s gospel. Here in the New Testament, we discover just how the serpent’s head will be crushed. We’re given our ending, foretold by the writer of Genesis. But it’s not the ending we might have expected. For we are still here. And this glorious ending – hinted at from the beginning – lingers for millennia. The serpent’s head is crushed – sin, death and Satan are defeated – but the Kingdom of God’s Son takes time to find ultimate fulfilment. A very long time. We live in that era – knowing the end from the beginning – but we do so in the knowledge that our God is victorious. Those of us who follow the Messiah, we may be crushed, beaten down by a virus; we may lose our jobs, our relatives, our people may at times be in despair, but we have our ending. We have always had our ending because we had it right at the beginning. Our God is victorious. We have a mighty saving God, who has already triumphed. As we enter this new year, let us hold onto this life-transforming truth. Let us share it over and over again with those we serve. The ending of the story is already here. We are living inside it. And what an ending! Our God is victorious. He has overcome the darkness. Let us serve him with joy in our hearts. Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. Isaiah 46.9-10