George W. Bush in Running Shoes
The most important things a leader does is provide clarity.
Clarity trumps pretty much everything else, but it’s very difficult to achieve.
Clarity is difficult because it requires a leader to know his own mind—something that rarely comes without a lot of reflection—and then it requires the leader express his mind in ways that others can easily understand and remember.
All this takes a lot of work.
But it is worth it.
Nothing is more important in leadership than clarity.
I don't know why the Lord has brought us to Asbury, but I know this: there is work to do.
I didn't move here to just mail it in and draw down on capital stored up by the folks who have come before me; nope—it’s time to build.
As I said in my first sermon, it’s actually very simple:
In life you are either building on what has come before, or you drawing down on that inheritance. There is no in-between.
You’re either taking what you’ve been given and doing more with it, or else you are squandering what you’ve been given and wasting it.
You don’t light a lamp only to hide it under a bushel basket.
You don’t get a talent only to bury it.
NO.
You do something with what you’ve been given.
So, last week after the vote at Asbury towards disaffiliation, I put on a pair of neon orange running shoes as a way of telling folks that we’re going to get to work—we’re not going to sit around and twiddle our thumbs.
(I even wrote a blog post about this: “Buckle Up, Buttercup: Let’s Get Ready to Run”.)
Imagine my surprise when I showed up to our Tuesday evening Administrative Council board meeting—the chief governance board for the entire church—only to find that the entire board had colluded behind my back and had shown up wearing their running shoes!
I know it seems like a small thing, but I was really touched and taken aback by the gesture. I’m the new guy and I know folks are still trying to figure out what I’m about and if I can be trusted. For them to show up in their running shoes tells me that they are ready to run.
Let’s go.
And by the way, I’m going to wear running shoes with my suit tomorrow morning.
I don’t really care if I preach to 50 people or 5,000—to me it’s the same thing. I don’t get nervous in a bigger room or feel more comfortable in a smaller room. So, preaching to a bigger congregation on Sundays doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. In fact, preaching to more folks has never been a goal of mind, and is absolutely not why I left Texas to move to Oklahoma. What is a goal of mine is to do the most with what I’ve been given. To run hard, in other words.
The biggest change for me personally in moving here is not the size of the congregation on Sundays but the size of the staff I’m supposed to lead: about 70 folks (I think!).
The staff is understandably nervous and uncertain about the future, since my predecessor here, the Rev. Tom Harrison, was senior pastor for 29 years! Everything seems different, and I know that folks are unsure how to proceed and how to make decisions.
“This is the time of year when I always order green popsicles for the next summer. Are we even DOING green popsicles any more?”
The most important thing I can provide our church is clarity.
And so I’ve given a lot of thought about how I can provide clarity to the staff and let them know I trust them to make decisions.
In short:
I’m asking each of our staff members to become George W. Bush in running shoes.
[I know I have a fair number of pastors who read this blog, so the following is a summary of a presentation I gave to our staff this week to help them feel confident in making decisions and taking ownership.]
Friends,
As I told you at staff meeting on Tuesday, I know everything is strange these days and folks are wondering, “What should I do about X or Y now that we have a new senior pastor?”
My simple answer:
That is, just go for it. Become “The Decider.” (One of my favorite Bush-isms.)
What follows is a simple rubric for making decisions that I hope you’ll save and to which you’ll refer back from time to time.
How to Make Decisions at Asbury
Here’s what I want you to know:
I trust your judgment. And you were hired to do stuff. So, don’t be afraid.
I would rather have you make bold decisions and mess them up than be paralyzed by fear of failure.
So, to paraphrase George W. Bush:
Go for it!
And this is how I want you to make decisions.
When faced with a decision, I want you to first ask:
This is how to do that:
Pursue Excellence—make decisions that help us pursue excellence. Put that mint on the pillow, baby.
2. Provide Clarity—make it clear what folks are supposed to do or where they are supposed to go.
The way to ensure you are both pursuing excellence and clarity is through
Which is a very practical way of fulfilling the Great Commandment, anyway.
In summary:
I trust you to make decisions. And if we get those decisions wrong, guess what?
We’ll repent and redo. No worries.
And Please Please Please Please Please Hear This
MY DOOR IS ALWAYS OPEN* TO YOU
*Now, my door will not always literally be “open.” (I keep it closed as a way to help me focus.)
But unless the blinds on my office door are closed, you are always always free to come in and visit and ask a question, etc.
Always.
Please don’t hesitate to come in. If I’m in a meeting, then I won’t be able to talk, but otherwise I’d love to see you for any reason.
In fact, I’d probably prefer an in-person visit to an email or a text—it’s usually more efficient. You are also welcome to call my desk phone, though I don’t really know how to use it yet. 🤦🏻♂️
Friends, there’s a lot of great work to do. The Lord isn’t done with us yet, which means he has work for us to do.
Let’s go.
It’s time to run.
—Andrew
P.S. If you’ve read this far and are an Asburian, I’d love to have you join me tomorrow—let’s wear our running shoes together. Literally.