As I wrote in my last post,
God used a cute blond co-ed to get me to walk through the doors of the Lutheran
Campus ministry at Central Michigan University. After that I started attending
on my own. I’m not sure why, other than the fact that I felt comfortable and at
home in a church. The people who met on Wednesday night welcomed me into their
group right away. I learned that the they traveled to lead worship in churches
around the state one weekend every six or eight weeks. Those trips. like the
Wednesday evening rehearsals, were completely organized and run by the
students.
When I returned for my sophomore year I brought a used guitar
I had picked up at a garage sale. I started learning the half dozen chords
needed to play the songs that we sang and stood up front at rehearsals with the
other guitar players. My playing wasn’t great but it was passable. At the end
of that year the people who had been leading the group graduated and everyone
gathered to elect new leaders. When I was chosen to lead the group I felt
honored and a bit surprised.
Returning to school my junior year I found myself leading not
only the student folk group but also the tuba section of the marching band.
That gig had been handed to me by the previous section leader. I was excited
about leading these groups because I loved being a part of them and I wanted to
give back and support them. But I also felt ill-equipped to lead them.
Both groups were centered around music and both groups had
members who were stronger musicians that me. I worried that someone would make
an issue of that fact and point out that I wasn’t fit to lead.
The other reason I felt ill-equipped was because of my natural
introversion. Leaders have to be in front of groups. They have to motivate and
energize people to move in a desired direction. Leaders need to have really
good social skills. As an introvert I prefer quiet reflection and developing
strong relationships with a few people. While my passion for the groups that I
lead naturally showed in what I did, sometimes my lack of social skills got in
the way and caused all sorts of frustration for myself and for others.
It was also about this time that I started thinking again
about being a pastor. That sense of call crept back into my mind as my peers
began putting me into positions of leadership. Finding myself with the
responsibilities of leadership, while at the same time feeling ill-equipped for
the task, created a strange mixture of confidence and fear that continues to be
with me to this day.
Learning to lead (and live) with this paranoid confidence has
been the real work behind everything I have done as a pastor. I’ve tried bluffing and bullying my way
through certain issues. I’ve tried meditating and reminding myself constantly
that God loves me the way that I am, telling myself to “do my best and God will
do the rest.” I’ve tried delegating to others. I’ve read leadership books and journals.
I’ve attended leadership conferences. So far, nothing has changed that swirling
mass of mixed emotions that resides within me.
In the Bible there are many stories about people called to
leadership who feel ill-equipped for the job, or at least they claim to be. The
best, by far, is when Moses is called to lead the Hebrew people out of slavery
in Egypt. Moses excuses himself by claiming that he’s not a good public speaker.
The funny thing is, he tells this to God in one of the most eloquent and cleverly crafted speeches in the Bible. Then, throughout his time of leadership,
Moses constantly struggles with his belief that he is ill-equipped for the job.
I wonder sometimes what the world and what the church would be
like if every leader had this paranoid confidence and shared it openly. Would people
still follow? Would it make for better leaders?
Returning
to my sense of call meant entering into a place of discomfort and rarely
feeling at ease with myself or what I needed to do. It meant that I would be discovering
and rediscovering that the joy of being chosen is quickly overshadowed by the immensity
of the task. And, as it turns out, it meant entering into a daily struggle
between the awesomeness of being called to something bigger than myself and the
dreadful realization that I will never quite be up to the challenge.
