The Eighth Deadly Sin Control
I think you’re a bit too controlling.” Even though the words were spoken by a friend, they were not especially hurtful. I had heard the accusation before and quickly reached for my bag of rationalizations.For more than 12 years, I have been privileged to pastor a thriving church in suburban Chicago that my wife and I started while we were still in our late twenties.More than once during that time, church members had spoken to me about “control issues,” but I had developed some pretty effective escapes—or so I thought.Here were three of my best:“You’re just jealous”
Eighteen months after starting our church, 12 of our 18 pioneers pulled up and pulled out. The church was growing quickly and attracting some worshipers whose style made some of the founders uncomfortable. They wanted me to quiet the music and “keep the hands down,” lest anyone think we had gone over the edge. When I refused, there was a painful confrontation. As they walked away, I was devastated, especially by their accusation that I was controlling. After all, I had worked hard to find common ground and maintain a consensus.In reality, I learned that I was not the first pastor they had tried to run out of town—and I have not been the last. It was their way or the highway, I decided, and they were simply ticked off that they hit the pavement instead of me.In years to come when we as elders would hear control rumblings, I would remind the men, “Only people who desire control resent the ones who have it. They’re just jealous.”“Do your job”
As our staff grew, I began to learn about management and how to build an effective ministry team. Our experiences with pastors and support staff have been overwhelmingly positive. I have had the same personal assistant and the same associate pastor for all 12 years of our church’s history.Most of our other staff members have remained with us through the challenges of growth, facility acquisition, and multiple services. However, there have been a few—I guess it’s inevitable—with whom I have been disappointed: individuals who had to be called to come to work, monitored while on the job, and relentlessly pursued if anything were to be accomplished. Of course, eventually a staff member like that has to be let go.Before we came to that painful decision, we tried to manage them through it. OK, I tried to micromanage them through it: “Keep a time log, come and go with surgical precision, and more detail on your goals, please.” All of this was to no avail. People who don’t do their jobs resent others who hold them accountable, and they often yell “Control!” over their shoulders as they pack their bags.“So? I’m a strong leader”
Only those stubborn pioneers and a few difficult staff members had ever called me controlling, so I felt pretty sure that it wasn’t an issue.Oh, there were a few other minor skirmishes. Some Brethren brethren tried to make us Brethren and then walked out, refusing to act like brethren when we refused to affiliate. (I’ve seldom seen the Lord provide breakthrough thinking from people headed for the door.)And sure, we’ve had the usual struggles over philosophy of ministry, church discipline, and where and when to build. I recall hearing some whispers about control during those times, but I quickly dismissed them.“You bet I’m strong,” I remember telling myself. “You have to be to keep the ministry going in the right direction every time someone tries to jerk it off the tracks.”Every prominent ministry I’ve studied had the same whispers in the hallways. “What leader isn’t strong and direct?” I said to myself, brushing the criticism aside.I had heard the research that Christian executives generally were more authoritative than their pagan counterparts. And I was familiar with the studies showing that Christian leaders tend not to seek input from their subordinates as readily as do unbelieving administrators (see Dan E. Maltby, “Authoritarians at Work,” Christian Management Report, Nov/Dec 2000).So for almost 12 years, I dismissed the accusation of control, because the ones who brought the message were not credible in my mind. Our elders weren’t saying this. Our best and most fruitful staff would lay down their lives for me, as I would for them. The criticism wasn’t coming from hard-working and happy church members.At least not until the management audit.Turning point
One of the men in our church is a recognized management consultant to Fortune 100 companies. He began mentoring me in some of the things you don’t learn in seminary. Last winter he suggested that we do a management audit of our top staff and lay leaders.He would gather them in groups of eight to ten and ask them three questions:What are the church’s greatest strengths?What are the church’s greatest weaknesses?What steps, if taken, would most improve the quality of our ministry?Participants were promised anonymity and access to the full report (with no edits) in a large-group forum.For three months we waited while he did the interviews and wrote his report. I remember well the day I held the 40-page document in my hands for the first time. The first section contained actual comments from the participants, grouped according to theme. The second section offered recommended action steps in providing solutions. Most of it was exactly as I had expected: ministries need to be better coordinated, communication needs to be shored up, more volunteers would relieve some strain, and so on.But then I came to the section titled “Senior Management Style.” There, before my eyes, were criticisms I could not dismiss: “There’s too much micromanaging going on,” “More delegation is needed from the top,” “The executive pastor is empowered to a certain extent, but the senior pastor has ultimate authority.”Ouch!And there was more: “When the senior pastor’s energy dies, things die,” and “The bench mark is WWJD—what would James do?”Ouch! OUCH!Sixteen comments in all were directed at me, the elders, or some portion of our senior leadership team. The first time I read the report I was stunned. I reached for my bag of rationalizations and carefully tried each one, but none seemed to fit. These people were not quitters; they were totally committed to our mission and in for the long haul. They were not harsh critics trying to exact a penalty because their play for power had been thwarted; they were friends who loved me and wanted to see my leadership prosper.I was busted, and I knew it.Taking my lumps
I have always tried to live by my father’s threefold outline for successful pastoring: (1) feed the people; (2) love the people; and (3) admit when you are wrong.Over the years I have seen many a pastor go over the edge by failing at number three, and so I knew that was not an option for me. I would have to admit publicly that our leadership, and mine in particular, had been too controlling.The report was circulated to each of the 100 leaders who came to a three-hour meeting to discuss its implications for our church. I was very nervous about their reaction and somewhat fearful that acknowledging my need to grow in this area would give others the excuse they needed to do their own thing. I was wrong.I stood in front of the entire group. “As pastor, I have held too much authority in the church,” I said. “And our executive pastoral staff has also held too much control over the direction of our church. From our elders down to every level of leadership, we need to find ways to empower those under our servant leadership to do the ministry God has called them to.”We defined empowerment as “the capacity to bring one’s gifts, skills, and knowledge to bear on one’s responsibilities without undue checks, balances, and approval levels, resulting in more effectiveness on the job.”To balance my fears, we made it clear that we would not be moving to the days of Judges 21:25 where “everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”The meeting was extremely positive, and the leaders left enthused. Many reported an increased sense of security in knowing that the senior leaders were willing to acknowledge where they needed to grow and to model that for others. There was no discernible residue of frustration, and everyone seemed excited to enter a new season.In an effort to increase empowerment at every level, we required each staff member to meet one-on-one with three or four close co-workers. We asked them to discuss three aspects of their work:“Keep doing these things—they help increase my effectiveness;“Do these things more or better;“Do these things less, or stop doing them altogether.”These discussions have been well worth the time and effort. Since then, our staff members have experienced greater openness in their communication and increased authority and freedom in their respective areas of service.My conclusions
We took a number of steps to increase empowerment at every level, but of course, the real issue was change in my own heart. If I did not release greater amounts of authority to those under me, it was futile to think that they would change, and I knew it.As I reflected upon the lessons I was learning, I formed several conclusions:1. Some complaints can be ignored. Many of the people who accuse leaders of being controlling are doing so for less-than-honorable reasons, and an effective leader does need to “consider the source.”2. Some complaints must be heard. When mature people are given an opportunity to give feedback, they will do so in a loving way that helps the leader grow.3. Leadership styles must be adapted. Church planting is different than church leading. In the early days, my way was literally the only way. Later as some leaders gathered, my way was often the best way. More recently, however, my way is only one of the ways and many times is not the best way. As more capable leaders gather and grow, making that transition in thinking is crucial to empowering others in a developing ministry.4. Proximity promotes control. In order to release and empower others, I have found it necessary to withdraw from certain areas. Simply being there makes it almost impossible to keep from inserting myself and my preferences. Steering clear is the easiest way to limit my tendency to control.For example, our adult ministry team has spent the last few months evaluating and overhauling our method of assimilation.As a result, we are abandoning several processes that we have used for many years but that are no longer effective. It has been very rewarding to watch our team work. They were encouraged when I approved the final plan with no adjustments. I truly believe that the outcome is better than if I had been directly involved.The key becomes knowing when to step in and when to stay out, and I’m still growing in my ability to make that call.5. Control can hurt, even when unintentional. Though it is not my nature to injure others through control, the “security” benefits of controlling others often makes that my default position. It’s not my heart, but it happens under pressure if I do not intentionally pursue a different course of action.6. Personal growth takes time. Attitudes are patterns of thinking formed over a long period of time, and they don’t change overnight. I am working hard on the matter of control, but victory comes in increments that include occasional relapses and the need to apologize. How thankful I am for a gracious team of ministry partners who let me grow, even as I seek to let them do the same.As you can see, I am still in process. I have been encouraged by the positive response from others who have observed our efforts to grow and change. I did not want to surface this struggle for everyone to read, but I have been praying that the Lord would use it to encourage others. At first I was concerned that some might use what I have written against me, but then I remembered that people are gonna do what people are gonna do—and I can’t control that.James MacDonald is pastor of Harvest Bible Chapel in Rolling Meadows, Illinois, and the author of
Lord, Change My Attitude. www.WalkintheWord.com.Copyright © 2001 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
