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What got us here isn’t going to take us any further.

That’s what I’ve been telling our leaders at RPC over the past several months.  We had a system and structure that brought us this far, but we’ve maxed it out and can’t go any further with it.  One of the things we’re focusing on growing is our leadership capacity, and it can best be summed up in this statement:

“I don’t pay you to be a team player, I pay you to be a coach.”

I know it sounds callous, but it succinctly sums up the biggest leadership area we need growth in.  When your church (or organization, for that matter) is small, the amount of things to “do” is manageable and you can handle it on your own.  But as growth comes and responsibilities increase (often exponentially), you can no longer do everything yourself and you face a decision: hire more “doers”, or teach your “doers” to lead and manage volunteers who are able (and usually extremely willing) to “do”.  Obviously, in a church where funds are limited (as most churches are), option “A” doesn’t pan out, so the choice is easy.

To say it differently, there comes a crisis point in the development of an organization where “being a team player” isn’t enough anymore; sure it’s important, but what will take the organization (in our case, the church) to the next level is when the staff members and key leaders stop being merely “team players” and start being “team coaches”.  Expand your influence without expanding our budget. Hand off what you’re “do”-ing and manage someone else as they “do” it.  Or better yet, manage a lot of someones as they “do” it.  Get more done by leveraging the most underutilized (yet inherently powerful) force in most churches: volunteers.

Stop being a doer, and start being a leader.  Not because you’re too good to do, but because we need you to lead.

Several months ago one of my mentors shared the following leadership equation with me:

Change –> Conflict –> Growth

The steps to this process hold true almost 100% of the time, albeit in varying degrees.  And while we ALL want growth, most of us are uncomfortable with change and we run as fast as we can from conflict.  But here’s the thing: you don’t get to grow without going through the other two.  It’s a principle of leadership.

So, if you want growth in your personal life or your family or your business or your organization, start looking for what you need to change.  And once you make the change, you’d better be ready for conflict.  But it’s only when you push through both of these that you begin to see growth.

By the way, we’ll discuss this principle and others like it in our bi-monthly Leadership Forum that’ll begin in February.  You can read about it here, or email me if you want more info.  We’ll have signups soon, but take note: there will be homework, so it’s not for the faint of heart.

So, let’s discuss.  Where have you recently experienced the pressure of change or conflict?  Or where are you seeing growth?  Let’s hear it…

Or, it’s the stupid economy. Since last week’s sermon is still on my brain, this post hit home for me. It’s business related, but the last paragraph makes the whole thing worth the read. Do yourself a favor and check it out…

Wow. I spent yesterday in my Ocala Pastor’s Coaching Network, and it was intense. We covered A LOT of good material, and had some great discussions. I really think we’re already bonding as a group, which doesn’t usually happen this soon. And I caught up with three different pastors and set up offline meetings to discuss some things that’ll stretch me even more. Basically, it looks like if I’m not careful this guy is going to make me a better leader (which is exactly what I’m hoping).

So, here’s the question: Who’s your coach? Who’s helping you be a better you? Are you inentional about it, or just hoping to drift into it? Answer here (if you’re brave enough).

Thanksgiving 2005.

It had been a tough year. We were in the middle of the transition from First Baptist Church to RidgePoint Church, and I was not a popular guy. I had been forced to make some tough decisions that went over like a lead balloon. I was paying the price. True, I had some faithful supporters, but at that moment the only voices I heard were the naysayers. And there were a lot of them.

Because, like you, I like to be liked. I want to believe that everyone takes the time to understand where I’m coming from and empathize with the difficult choices I’m forced to make. But it doesn’t usually work that way.

So Miranda & I flew to Philadelphia for vacation. I’m a history buff, mostly about our country’s origins, and Philly played a huge role. We saw the Liberty Bell, and the Museum of Art, and the houses of Ben Franklin and Betsy Ross. We took walking tours of several city blocks, and a bus tour. We ate at the City Tavern. I saw the Rocky statue, and stood where he did at the top of the steps at the museum. But it was in Independence Hall that my leadership life changed.

I don’t know if you’ve ever read the Declaration of Independence, but it was the document that started it all. Beautifully written. Precisely worded. And inevitably damning. Once the signers placed their John Hancocks, they were aligning themselves with treachery. There was no turning back. Theirs was an unpopular choice here as well as in England. But they did what they knew what was right, and damn the consequences.

I’m not a mystical guy (I usually laugh at them), but in that room where the declaration was signed something happened to me. I became overwhelmed with a sense of what those guys must have felt when they chose to sign that document. They’re heroes now, but they weren’t then. I think more than a few of them were scared of the consequences. Just like me. But they somehow found the courage to do the unpopular thing because they knew it was right. They were just scared leaders with a cause so important they refused to give up on it.

I realized then that fear doesn’t make me a bad leader. Inaction does. And sometimes when you do the right thing it doesn’t feel right in the moment. You’ve got to do it anyway.

So I keep a copy of the Declaration of Independence on the wall in my office. Because I’m a history buff. Because it’s an amazing document (you should really read it sometime). But mainly because I sometimes need a fresh infusion of courage to do the right thing, even when it’s hard. And I can’t look at it without going back in my mind to the room where it all started. For them and for me.

Michael from Oak Leaf had a post today about broken windows that triggered something in my noggin.

This actually has nothing to do with that post, but there’s a really great story from one of the biographies I have on Charles Spurgeon (I forget which one). I may slightly butcher it since the book’s in my office and I’m at home, but here goes.

Spurgeon was an incredibly gifted communicator, and it wasn’t long after he came to London (even being under 20) that the old sanctuary of the New Park Street Baptist Church was filled to capacity. Since this was long before air conditioning, and the windows of the building didn’t open, things could get pretty stuffy during their services.

Spurgeon repeatedly asked the deacons to replace the windows with some that would allow ventilation into the building, but to no avail. Then one day Spurgeon returned from his walk, smiling and carrying his long-handled walking stick, with the interesting announcement that some vandal had broken the entire top row of panes out of the windows in the sanctuary. The new windows were installed shortly after.

Problem solved.

I love that story.