We read in Psalm 112 the following: “They shine through the darkness, a light for the upright; they are gracious, merciful and just.” For whatever reason, the word gracious has been resonating with me for the better part of the past two months.
Gracious.
I suspect that it’s in part due to my own desire to accept God’s love more fully and give His love more generously to others. I know when I am not gracious. It usually looks like rudeness and pride.
It could also be the abundance of non-gracious leaders in our world. Every day, we seem to read of a leader who has put his foot in his mouth or found to be hiding something ugly.
The thing is this: power corrupts us. And, if you’re not willing to admit that, we can all agree that power changes us. I’ve never met a person with great power who is the same as when they were a Regular Joe. This is the thing- humble leaders know they are ordinary, deep down and every day.
Truly humble people don’t mind driving an older car, wearing a simple wardrobe and eating basic food. They have ridiculously simple tastes. They don’t correct you if you get their title wrong. They laugh at themselves often.
You don’t have to look far for examples of leaders whose power has changed them in embarrassing ways. Take Jerry Falwell, Jr., President of Liberty University. Only after he was photographed with his pants unzipped, standing with his arm uncomfortably around another woman (not his wife) was he forced to go on a leave of absence. We could add the names of many current politicians and sadly, even a few Church leaders.
I won’t add President Trump to the list because his understanding of the truth has always been, shall we say, blurry.
Power gets to your head. The office, the perks, the titles, the benefits- all of it. You start to make exceptions for yourself, because of your title. Worst of all, you start to think that you are more special than those you serve. This is very, very dangerous. Religious leaders in particular have to guard against this. If the first thought in your head each day is, “God has called me to this and therefore the standard rules don’t apply to me,” look out.
Leadership, like being a celebrity, is fleeting. There will be a day when you won’t be a leader and you won’t have a big office. Hell, you might not have an office at all.
Father Time actually is undefeated after all.
I speak from experience. I founded a youth ministry program in 1996 that has gone on to become a state-wide apostolate serving many parishes. One day, many years after I had left, I met with those currently serving in the ministry. Not only did they have no idea who I was. They had no idea what the origins of the ministry were.
It was if I was deeply, uncomfortably ordinary. That I was. That I am.
If 2020 has taught us anything, it’s that we need new kinds of leaders, gracious men and women who can embrace their ordinariness and lift up those around them.