Leadership Lessons in the Luminous Mysteries – Wedding at Cana

If you missed the introduction and first mystery, you can find that article herehttps://blog.euphemos.com/2016/12/15/leadership-lessons-in-the-luminous-mysteries-baptism-in-the-jordan/

The Wedding at Cana

The story, for those unfamiliar: Jesus, his mother, and his disciples, are all invited to a wedding in a town called Cana. Weddings at the time were multi-day affairs during which wine, representing joy, happiness, and abundance in security, flowed copiously. During this particular celebration, the wine runs out (a major party foul), and they go tell Jesus’s mom, Mary. Mary tells Jesus that they’re out of wine. Jesus asks why that’s his problem, and points out it isn’t the right time to do anything showy. Mary tells the servants to do whatever he tells them. Jesus tells the servants to fill (huge) jugs used for washing with water, then bring the water to the master of ceremonies. They do, and it turns into the best wine, ever. The master of ceremonies complements the bridegroom on his excellent provision, serving the best wine last, rather than good wine until they’re drunk, then bad after. Turning water into wine is Jesus’s first documented miracle.

There are at least as many theological opinions and nuances in this account as there are persons to consider it – I’m not at all attempting to reject those, just presenting a narrow slice as it struck me in the context of leadership.

Stepping up to empower others

Jesus is a guest here. He’s not the host, and has no direct responsibility. There’s some hint that his mother may have some position of responsibility, since the servants come to her with a problem, but that doesn’t automatically make it something Jesus needs to deal with. Nevertheless, Jesus steps up to meet the need.

In many respects, stepping up is the essence of leadership. People who desire leadership position for the perks, or to fill some emptiness within them are typically terrible leaders, at least until they grow out of that particular brokenness. In my experience, the only leaders who inspire others to step up are those who step up themselves.

The question, though, is how do we step up to meet the need? What did Jesus do? (This is almost always a better question than what would Jesus do.)

There’s a temptation, especially when a strong individual contributor is asked to take a leadership role, for the leader to misunderstand servant leadership. It’s servant leadership, not servant doer-ship. Leaders “do”, and Jesus plays his part in the work, but Jesus doesn’t make a big show, or physically do all the heavy lifting himself. Instead, he gives clear, calm instructions, empowering those he leads to achieve what they could never even imagine, much less achieve on their own. Without his leadership, nothing happens. Without his power and influence, their efforts could only result in embarrassing failure (serve wash-water as wine?). Without the trust of those doing the work, Jesus’s leadership is ineffectual.

Do I try to do it all myself? Am I trustworthy? When and how do I step up to meet a need? When and what do I do myself, and when do I empower others? Liturgy and Catholic Social Teaching’s principle of subsidiarity present a suggestion for this – every action should be performed at the lowest level possible by the persons closest to the problem. A priest is also ordained a deacon, but it is the deacon who should read the gospel during the liturgy. National and international governments and large NGOs can care for the poor, but it is I who can best care for my neighbor. Jesus could have miraculously filled the vessels just as he changed the water into wine, but he instead inspired and empowered the servants responsible for the feast.

Leading up, and how to offer and accept advice

In this situation, I see Mary as a line manager, with Jesus in the role of executive. I don’t want to go too far afield with only a brief account of their conversation, but there are certainly some lessons here as Jesus and the Blessed Virgin offer examples of how to ‘lead up’ and to offer and accept advice.

The line manager perceives a need she cannot address, and brings the problem to her executive for consideration. She neither demands nor cajoles, but simply presents the need for his consideration. When the executive is not immediately responsive to her need, she does not plead her case further. She does, however, instruct her team to be prepared to “do whatever he tells you.” She trusts that her executive will do the right thing, and empowers and prepares her team to execute when he arrives at a course of action.

The executive hears the need, and his first response is to question whether this is a problem he needs to solve. He points out that this is not the time for him to display his power (his hour is not yet come), but does not immediately reject or accede to his line manager’s request. He questions her on why she’s bringing this problem to her consideration, then may be reasonably assumed to give the matter some thought, as there’s at least enough time for Mary to go instruct the servants before he gives instructions. Ultimately, he decides to address her need.

As a young man, I was given the opportunity to manage international delivery of our product, including defining the process for deciding which markets justified investment, which we should maintain without additional investment, and which we should divest. The C-level executives bought in to the process we designed, but the first time one of our international managing directors pushed back on a decision guided by this process, the executive team reversed the decision. I was frustrated. Their decision was poorly explained and apparently illogical. It was objectively the wrong decision for the product and for the company, so I pressured them to either reverse their decision or explain their rationale. Ultimately, the right decision is now irrelevant; my point is to give background for what my boss, the CTO, taught me in this situation.

He said

Make your case, but once the decision is made, I need you to let it go and help us execute.

At the time, that sounded like selling out or giving up, but there was wisdom in it. We can’t win every battle, and we begin to lose as soon as it becomes a battle at all. That’s not to say that line managers should never stand upon principle or engage in battle with their executives, because, let’s face it, we’re not all fortunate enough to have Jesus Christ as our managing executive.

As I present challenges to my executive, I want to come like Mary – present the need, but do not demand or cajole. Assuming the executive is trustworthy (if they are not, why I am I here?), trust them to do the right thing. Don’t undermine them with my team, or attempt to establish that my team and I are on one side of an issue, and the executive upon another. Do prepare my team to act. Don’t make it a battle unless it is truly a battle worth fighting, and worth stressing the relationship, but maintain integrity.

As I listen to challenges my leads and managers present, I want to respond more like Jesus – listen to the need, ask clarifying questions, and don’t give an off the cuff answer or jump at the chance to throw my weight around, but respond thoughtfully. I need to be willing to take advice from those who may be in positions of lesser authority, but have wisdom to share.

Sharing joy

Practical lessons aside, Jesus’s actions at the wedding were about sharing joy. He shares the joy of service by empowering the servants at the feast to solve a serious social problem. He shares the joy of acclaim with the master of the feast by allowing him to take the credit for bringing the best wine later in the feast. He undoubtedly brought joy to his mother by heeding her advice and responding to the need she presented. He brought joy to his disciples by giving them evidence to support their growing belief in his identity.

On top of this, Jesus does all of this when he doesn’t have to. He’s not engaged in active ministry here, he’s just a guest at a party, engaging socially. It’s not “his job” to solve this problem, and it isn’t even “work-related.”

Do I care enough about my team to empower them, then let them enjoy the accolades? Does that concern extend beyond the workplace, and into their personal life? How can I bring joy into the hearts and homes of my team without becoming a creepy buttinsky? As an introvert, this extracurricular responsibility is particularly challenging for me. I find that praying for my team individually has helped me to grow in this area. I started by keeping notes, and always having “one thing” where I want to help each of my team grow professionally and personally, and that helped, but there’s something about praying for a person that grows my awareness of their needs, and encourages me to look for creative ways to help meet those needs.

Where can I find joy, and how can I share it?


Am I willing to hear good news? – Fourth Sunday of Advent A

As I read through the readings for this fourth Sunday of Advent, I am struck by the realization that I don’t want to write about this. I already know and believe that a maiden (and virgin as supported by cultural and historical context, tradition, scripture, etc.) gave birth to a child who is the son of God, and the fulfillment of prophecy. Nobody’s reading this but me, and I have no specific obligation in this context to counsel the doubtful or instruct the ignorant on this matter. Besides, it’s good news, but it’s old news.

Maybe I’m a bit like Ahaz – his mind was already set on a course of action, and he didn’t want to hear anything different from the Lord. I, likewise, am eager to write about something else today, despite a commitment to reflect upon each week’s readings and to hold myself accountable to this commitment by publishing my reflections at noon each Friday.

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Leadership Lessons in the Luminous Mysteries – Baptism in the Jordan

More and more, I struggle with the fact that it’s hard to lead people. Measuring and managing performance, the tactical stuff, that’s something I can do, but really leading? That’s something I have to be… and it’s hard.

I’m blessed to be surrounded by thoughtful people who also want to grow, and to have an employer that encourages me to interact with leadership coaches and invest time in becoming a better leader. The other day, my fellow manager, Tracy, and I were discussing this challenge. How do we become more inspirational leaders? Not just effective managers, but transformational leaders.

I’ve been fascinated for over a decade with the lessons that Jesus offers to leaders, whether believers, or just people of good will who are open to good advice. I’ve also established a pretty regular habit of praying with the rosary on the way to work. Usually, it’s mostly a matter of keeping all ten of my fingers on the steering wheel when people are driving like jerks, or focused upon some concern for my family, but I’ve recently begun praying more often for my workmates.

This morning, I thought back to Jesus as a Level 5 leader, and focused my prayer intention upon my own growth as a leader, and my desire to learn how to inspire others at work, at home, and in civic organizations. Realizing it was Thursday, I got rolling on the Luminous Mysteries, and was blown away.

These mysteries focus upon the public life and ministry of Jesus. Catholic or not, Christian or not, a person of faith or not, Jesus has something to teach us as leaders, and these topics of meditation offer more than food for thought.

So, without further ado – here’s the first mystery. I’ll commit to publishing one of these each Thursday at 3 for the next several weeks as I continue meditating upon how Jesus’s ministry as reflected in the Luminous mysteries applies to my role and growth as a leader.

The Baptism in the Jordan

The story, for those unfamiliar: John the Baptist is a fire and brimstone preacher going around telling people they’re doomed unless they repent of their evil and hypocritical ways. He calls on people, mostly religious leaders, to change their attitudes and behaviors, and to express their repentance with a ritual washing known as baptism. Jesus, John’s slightly younger cousin, comes along. John identifies him as the long-awaited messiah. Jesus demands John baptize him, and John awkwardly complies. Once the ritual washing is complete, there’s a voice from heaven indicating that Jesus is the well-loved and pleasing son of God.

Not rejecting what came before

Many new managers, or leaders new to a role or organization take the easy way out. They draw contrasts between what went before, and what they promise. Jesus comes along, the promised messiah, and not only does he not reject John the Baptist and his ministry calling for repentance, but he endorses it, by submitting himself to it, even though his own style is notably different.

John, likewise, demonstrates one of the qualities of a Level 5 leader. He does not cling to his position, but makes way for his successor, and encourages his followers to do the same. He not only welcomes Jesus, but he identifies himself as one who must diminish in order for Jesus to increase. He sends his disciples to Jesus to see for themselves, and encourages them to ask questions.

As I prepare to move on to a new role, how can I empower my successor to build upon the foundation I’ve laid, and preemptively support their efforts to make improvements upon it? How can I build upon the foundation my predecessors laid, rather than tear down their work or their person? What’s good there that I can reinforce?

Once I am established in my role, can I take responsibility for a mess I may have inherited, and focus on solving the problems, rather than assigning blame? If I do so, will it inspire my team to have a similar attitude and focus?

Example of Repentance

Theologically, Jesus had no need of repentance, but he submitted himself to a baptism of repentance for conversion and the forgiveness of sins. There are various mystical and theological opinions as to why he chose to do this, but there is near-universal agreement that at least a secondary purpose of his action was to provide an example for his followers.

A few years back, inspired by a proverb on feast and fasting for Lent, I gave up “defending myself” as a Lenten discipline. It was astonishingly difficult. I speak up in my own defense during nearly every conversation. I’ve made a (only slightly successful) effort ever since that time to carefully weigh whether or not it is necessary to clarify or defend my position. Most of the time it isn’t necessary… but I do anyway.

Is it more important that I’m right, or that I set a good example of how to behave when I’m (perceived to be) wrong? Can I inspire my team to fail-forward by setting an example of recognizing and admitting mistakes early? Can I encourage them to hold themselves and one another accountable by submitting to the same?

Humility

Ultimately, the baptism in the Jordan presents a lesson on humility. At this occasion, Jesus establishes a pattern in which he neither tears down his forerunners, nor speaks in his own defense. He positively affirms by example the value of admitting error and making a firm resolution to amend one’s course, even at the risk of inaccurately appearing to have erred himself. Modern leadership experts (check out the links… I’m not making this up) have repeatedly confirmed that humility is a key to not only effective leadership, but confident, empowering, engaging, and inspiring leadership. That’s what I want, so this is where I need to grow.

Cardinal Merry del Val describes humility in a beautiful litany of prayerful intentions that can be applied directly or adapted easily to a non-religious set of personal goals and intentions for someone wishing to grow in humility:

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed,

Deliver me, Jesus.

 

From the desire of being loved…
From the desire of being extolled …
From the desire of being honored …
From the desire of being praised …
From the desire of being preferred to others…
From the desire of being consulted …
From the desire of being approved …
From the fear of being humiliated …
From the fear of being despised…
From the fear of suffering rebukes …
From the fear of being calumniated …
From the fear of being forgotten …
From the fear of being ridiculed …
From the fear of being wronged …
From the fear of being suspected …

 

That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

 

That others may be esteemed more than I …
That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease …
That others may be chosen and I set aside …
That others may be praised and I unnoticed …
That others may be preferred to me in everything…
That others may become holier than I,
provided that I may become as holy as I should…

 


Waiting Joyfully – Third Sunday of Advent (A)

It is easy for me to fall into a habit of complaining, or of waiting impatiently, and to somehow imagine that today’s sufferings, my sufferings, are the greatest of all sufferings.

Perhaps they are, although I don’t see any of us yet who are, like John, imprisoned for speaking up for marriage. Even when that day comes again, I’m willing to bet there’s someone who’s had it worse.

It’s not about comparative badness, though, where the best I can say is that at least it’s not the worst it’s ever been.

This third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete Sunday, reminds me that I ame to wait joyfully.

Isaiah and the psalmist promise that the coming messiah will bring to each the thing they need and desire most, and Jesus says “Look! I’m doing it now!”

Am I blind? I am promised sight.

Am I deaf? I am promised hearing.

Am I lame? I will leap.

Am I mute? I will sing.

Am I oppressed? Justice.

Hungry? Food.

Bowed down? Uplifted.

Just? Love.

A stranger alone? Protection.

Unable to provide for myself? Sustenance.

A prisoner? Freedom.

Poor? Good news.

Whatever it is we need and desire most, that’s what the coming of the savior brings. It’s better than we dream, and better even than the promise; nobody ever promised lepers would be cleansed or the dead raised, but they were.

It’s hard to wait.

It’s harder to wait patiently and without complaint.

It’s even harder to wait with joy.

Thankfully, our waiting is easier because the promised gifts are already ours, in various forms, and to varying degrees.

Some are spiritually present, such as the food for our hungry soul we receive the Eucharist.

Some are intellectually present, such as having our blindness lifted so that we see and understand things in new ways.

Some are emotionally present, such as being cured of our brokenness, addictions, or depression so that we can leap and dance and sing again.

We don’t have them all in fullness yet, but we have more than a taste.

Scholars have argued from almost the moment Christian scholars existed about why John sends his disciples to ask if he’s the one who is to come.

Perhaps he was hoping to cash in on that promise of freedom for the prisoner.

Perhaps he was perplexed that the promises were not all fulfilled in the way he expected.

Perhaps he needed some consolation as he went through the darkness of being imprisoned for speaking out to say marriage is what marriage always was.

Perhaps John wanted his disciples to see and believe what he saw and believed, so they could hope in the one in whom he placed his hope. I think I lean towards this last option, along with Saints Jerome, Hilary and Ambrose.

Whatever his intentions, John sent his disciples to see Jesus, and they came away believing.

Like John, I am called to help others see Jesus so they can come away believing.

We receive these gifts, and they should help us to wait joyfully, but we are called not only to receive them, but, as the body of Christ,  to distribute them.

We are called to help others know the blessing of receiving and recognizing these gifts already present as we wait with joyful patience for the day we’ll receive them all in fullest measure.

This Advent, I want to be more sensitive to the needs of those around me, and be a “little Christ” by showing kindness in meeting those needs.

 


I Hope So – Second Sunday of Advent

The readings for this second Sunday of Advent presents me with a timely reminder of how important it is that I grow in the virtue of hope.

Isaiah describes a stump, not the tree, of Jesse. God promised a descendant of David would reign forever, and that promise seemed to have failed. The tree of Jesse was cut down when the Davidic lineage was cut off and the heirs killed or carried away captive. No clear path remained to offer a reasonable hope that the kingdom could be restored. To be quite frank, there was no reason for hope.

And that is exactly why hope is a virtue.

There’s little virtue in hope when the stars are aligned and circumstances render inevitable the object of our hope.

It is when the tree is chopped down, and we have every reason for discouragement and even to despair that hope becomes clearly virtuous.

This hope is the helmet of our salvation, offering protection for our mind and thoughts when we are assaulted by doubts and fears. It allows us to rejoice and be patient in tribulation. The Catechism teaches us that the virtue of hope “keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment.” (CCC 1818)

Hope is not only internal, self-centered, and protective, however. The Catechism continues… “it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude. Buoyed up by hope, he is preserved from selfishness and led to the happiness that flows from charity.”

This gift of hope that causes us to desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our ultimate happiness makes us better neighbors by opening our hearts, and preserving us from selfishness.

Jesus speaks of wheat and chaff.

People who don’t know anything about grain sometimes get confused about this separation of the wheat from the chaff, thinking that surely they are wheat, and others must be the chaff, and that the wheat and chaff are related to one another the same way as fruitful and unfruitful trees.

When Jesus speaks of wheat and chaff, he is not primarily addressing different type of people, however, but different parts of the fruit of one plant.

The chaff is the dry, scaly protective covering over the tender kernel of wheat. It’s the boll around the cotton. Perhaps it is good to light a fire, or as part of cotton burr compost if your stripper is older or broken, but it is only in the way when it comes to the harvest.

I need to be purified by this hope, preserved from selfishness, and led to the happiness that flows from charity. I need to have my hard, dry scaly protective covering removed, so that the Lord can make use of my fruitfulness.

I don’t have to.

I can refuse to risk hope, staying closed to others, and keeping my hard, dry, protective covering.

It’s safe. I’m safe.

But the cost of doing so is that the good things God’s growing in me, my fruit, is inaccessible.

It is hard to imagine a world in which there is both justice AND peace, and where the predator/victim relationship is exchanged for something entirely peaceful, not just reversed so that lambs gnaw on wolf bones.

It is difficult to contemplate the possibility that we might learn to think in harmony and glorify God together. Not monotony, mind you, but harmony.

Do we even dare to dream of a world where we are open and welcoming, and don’t merely tolerate one another even to those who we might perceive as our enemies?

Am I courageous enough to allow God to open me up to my neighbor?

I hope so.