A shortage of leaders is caused not so much by a scarcity of good ones as by a scaring away of the good leaders.
—Larry Osborne
Every year the nomination committee asks my friend Bob to run for a term on the church council. Every year he says, “No, not this year.”
Bob would make an ideal board member: He’s a mature Christian and natural leader, and he’s committed to the church, generously supporting it with both time and money. But Bob remembers the one time he said yes. “The late-night meetings and arguments were more than I could handle,” he recalls. “On the way home I’d be frustrated and angry, and the next morning I’d be exhausted at work. Worse, I found myself growing cynical. It took me a couple of years to recover my spiritual equilibrium.
The board at Bob’s church was dysfunctional. The symptoms are easily recognized: frequent tardiness, absenteeism, and a perennial problem securing enough qualified people willing to serve. The predictable result is a chronic leadership crisis—a shortage caused not so much by a scarcity of good leaders as by a scaring away of the good ones.
Over the years, I’ve served on, worked with, or been around many dysfunctional boards. I’ve noticed that in almost every instance there has been a conspicuous lack of three traits. In contrast, these same three traits dominate the decision-making process when a board is healthy and effective. So I’ve made their development a top priority.
Teamwork
As any sports fan knows, the best players don’t always win the championship. The best team does. What’s true on the field is also true in the boardroom. When everyone knows, accepts, and fulfills his role on the leadership team, the odds for success escalate.
I’ve found there are two common saboteurs of teamwork: lack of a clearly defined leader, and failure to distinguish between designing and evaluating a ministry.
One thing every team needs is a clearly defined leader. Teamwork depends on it. Someone has to keep the group headed in the same direction.
I compare the leader to a point guard on a basketball team. Directing the offense falls on his shoulders. That doesn’t mean the shooting guard, forwards, or center can’t initiate a play or fast break, but most of the time they’ll look to him to take the lead. In a church, a leader sets the agenda, general tone, and direction for ministry. When a tough problem or exciting opportunity comes along, everyone knows to whom to look for direction.
This type of leader is very different from an authoritarian leader. An authoritarian leader expects to be obeyed; an initiating leader expects to be heard. Once he’s made his point, he leaves it up to the team whether to accept, modify, or reject his advice. He’s what my friend Charles Bradshaw calls a “powerful servant.” In other words, he’s a leader, not a monarch.
In most cases, the senior pastor is the person best suited for this position. But obviously there are times when a church’s polity, history, or other factors make that impossible or inadvisable. What’s important is that one person leads. Dysfunctional boards tend to have two or three people vying for the leadership position, resulting in attacks on one another rather than on the problems at hand.
I realize some people advocate a leaderless board as the ultimate expression of unity and teamwork. I once counted myself among them. But I think I erred on two counts.
First, I failed to acknowledge the role of de facto leaders. What I called a “leaderless board” was often far from leaderless. For instance, I know of one church that prided itself on not having an officially designated leader. But sanctioned title or no, it was obvious who the real leader was—so much so that most people said, “I go to Gene Johnson’s church.” As long as Gene was around, the “leaderless” board worked marvelously. His charisma, knowledge, and arbitration skills kept everyone headed in the same direction. But once Gene left, so did the board’s teamwork. Within two years they were embroiled in controversy.
Second, I underestimated the fury of a storm. When a crisis hits a church, people need to know who’s in charge. As long as there’s smooth sailing, there is no great need for a captain; anyone can man the helm. But once a storm hits, someone has to take charge, and when he does, it’s important the crew has no qualms about his ability or right to lead.
Settling on a clearly defined and accepted leader is one of the first steps to greater teamwork.
Something else that can sabotage teamwork is the failure to distinguish between designing and evaluating.
Designing is a solo task; it needs to be carried out by one person (or at the most two or three). Evaluating, on the other hand, is a group task; the more the merrier.
When an entire board tries to design, create, or generate new programs, it’s headed for failure and frustration. There are good reasons why people joke about planning by committee. It’s no accident that the world’s greatest inventions, musical compositions, and artistic masterpieces have come from inspired individuals, not blue-ribbon committees.
At Bob’s church, whenever a crisis or golden opportunity loomed, his pastor came to the board and said, “What do you think we ought to do?” That put the board in an impossible position. With thirteen members, they were too large and diverse a group to develop an effective proposal. Most of the time, after pooling ideas, they’d argue late into the night over how to combine them into a workable plan. Eventually they’d table the discussion until the next meeting.
Teamwork doesn’t mean everybody does everything; it means everyone does what he does best. Translated to a board setting, it means letting the leader, staff, or a small group propose strategy. Then the entire group can evaluate, fine-tune, and modify the plans—things larger groups do well.
We’ve learned to strenuously avoid designing by committee. In fact, we have no standing committees outside of our elder board. When we have a problem or opportunity, we turn it over to an individual or small group: a pastor, a staff member, a fellow elder, or a task force. We leave it to them to propose an innovative solution.
Once the designers have a proposal, the board moves into action. We evaluate. If anything is wrong or missing, we can usually find it. Sometimes we even scrap the idea and move in an entirely new direction. But the key to the board’s effectiveness is having something to react to rather than trying to work from a blank slate.
For a church board to fully experience teamwork, I believe it needs to accept that initiating and designing ministry are individual skills, while evaluating and critiquing are group skills. Then the board can allow individuals to do what they do best, and concentrate on the group activities it does best. The result? Shorter meetings, less frustration, and a more innovative ministry.
Courage
A second mark of a healthy board is courage. When a tough decision has to be made, people aren’t afraid to make it. They realize that’s what they’ve been called to do. In contrast, dysfunctional boards often are dominated by fear. They find it safer to say no and to maintain the status quo.
Why do some boards lack courage? One, groups tend to be more conservative than individuals, more cautious and oriented toward the past. Two, most board members take their responsibilities as a sacred trust. They are hesitant to take unnecessary chances, alienate members, or make a mistake. These are commendable concerns, but when taken to an extreme they can paralyze the decision-making process.
I’ve found that whenever a board lacks the courage to lead, it tends to lean too heavily upon two opinion-gathering devices: (1) surveys, and (2) congregational meetings.
Surveys seldom give us the accurate information we think we’re getting. Not long after I arrived at this church, I used a survey to gauge interest in small-group Bible studies. I was thrilled to discover over half the congregation wanted to be in one. I gathered leaders, and we put together a series of studies. However, when it came time to sign up, hardly anyone did. Only later did I realize what had happened. People had answered my survey with what they perceived to be the “right answer.” They felt they ought to be in a Bible study, so they hesitated to check the box saying “No, I won’t be able to participate.”
Another problem with surveys is that by nature they zero in on what people want, not what they need. Ask a group what to study next and invariably you’ll find prophecy and a host of controversial subjects at the top of their list. Teaching on prophecy is hardly most people’s greatest need. A pastor who planned his preaching schedule around such surveys would be derelict in his duties as a spiritual leader. The same goes for a board that relied too heavily upon opinion polls when making decisions or designing a ministry.
Another tool that can be misused is congregational meetings. I’m not talking about an annual meeting or a constitution that puts ultimate authority in the hands of the congregation. That’s the system my church uses, and I’m not only comfortable with it—I also advocate it. My concern is with situations in which the leaders turn all but the most significant decisions back to the congregation. I realize that questioning the effectiveness of congregational meetings is, to some, tantamount to heresy. But I wonder if asking an entire congregation to be intricately involved in the decision-making process is the best way to do things. It’s a sure way to increase the likelihood of conflict and division.
In all but the smallest churches, it’s unreasonable to expect everyone to come to the meetings. As a rule of thumb, the larger the congregation, the smaller the percentage of people who show up. As a result, it’s easy for a small faction of chronic complainers and malcontents to wield an inordinate amount of power.
That’s what happened at Ron’s church. In the early years, the small flock met once a month to hammer out issues and okay expenditures. It worked so well they wrote it into the constitution. Forty years later they still held a congregational business meeting on the first Wednesday of every month. Hardly anyone showed, but those who did haggled over every nickel and dime, in essence holding hostage a church of four hundred. Why didn’t the rest of the congregation show up and put an end to it? They (1) lacked the time, (2) hated meetings, (3) abhorred conflict, and (4) trusted their elected leaders. So they tried to ignore the undercurrent of hostility, hoping it would go away.
Those who champion lots of churchwide business meetings assume that the more people involved in the decision-making process, the better the final decision will be. But there is no way an entire congregation can work through a complex issue as carefully as a small board. The result will almost always be more heat than light.
That’s why our board never asks the congregation to debate a number of options. Instead, we bring a single proposal and ask the people to approve or reject it. This is true whether it’s our annual budget, a proposed addition to our staff, or any other item.
We believe it’s our job as leaders to dig through the facts, compare the consequences of various options, and come up with a plan. Then it’s the congregation’s prerogative to accept or reject that plan. That’s not to say we don’t give the congregation an opportunity to offer input or ask tough questions. But it’s our goal to get any debate, concerns, or proposed changes on the table long before the congregation gathers to vote.
We accomplish this in a couple of ways. First, we inundate people with Sunday announcements and congregational letters to make sure they know exactly what we are proposing and why. Second, we hold question-and-answer sessions a few weeks before the meeting so everyone can make suggestions, register complaints, or clarify issues. Frankly, not many people show up at these informational meetings. But the meetings give people a place to vent feelings, and they give us an opportunity to interact with critics away from the emotionally charged setting of a congregational meeting.
The result? Boring congregational meetings. Most last ten to fifteen minutes. I can’t remember the last time someone raised his voice or got mad. We’ve found that most church members want the board to lead. They have no desire to get mired in the sticky details, and they don’t like the confusion, conflict, and inefficiency of large-group decision making. As long as they have opportunity for input and the authority to say yea or nay on major decisions, they’re happy.
Healthy boards realize this and lead. If we’re going to develop courage in our board, we need to help the board not to shift its leadership back to the congregation.
Trust
The final key trait I want our board to display is trust. Every board I’ve worked with has had a basic bent toward either trust or suspicion. Dysfunctional boards ask “Why?” Healthy boards ask “Why not?”
What made the difference? In most cases it was a choice. Dysfunctional boards chose the role of watchdog, making sure no one got by with anything. Predictably, they had an abundance of adversarial relationships. On the other hand, healthy boards chose trust.
How can we develop trust in our board?
To begin with, by helping the board avoid micromanagement. A consuming attention to detail reveals only one thing: lack of trust in the competence and judgment of others. A board develops trust as it keeps its focus on the big picture—setting direction, making policy. Trusting boards don’t argue over what kind of tires to put on the church van. They leave that decision to the people who maintain and drive the van.
One friend served on a board that insisted upon approving every expenditure over ten dollars. They spent so much time on the budget they never had time for the more important issues—prayer, strategy, and vision.
Overattention to the details of ministry creates a bottleneck. Nothing gets done until the board has a chance to meet. For those on the front lines that can be incredibly frustrating, particularly when they need to make a decision or a purchase now. It creates a perception that the board is an obstacle to progress, something to get around—an enemy rather than an ally.
Micromanagement also tends to undercut creativity. By definition, a creative idea goes against the grain. It’s different from “the way we’ve always done things.” But by the time micromanagers have finished with an idea, it’s usually rather conventional. For example, the pastor of a neighboring church wanted to know why home fellowships had worked well for us. He wanted to start some. I was careful to point out that much of the success was due to some creative twists we’d given the program. Later, I found out that his board had liked the idea, but unfortunately they were micromanagers. By the time they were finished reworking the idea, not one of the unconventional aspects was left. The result was a plain-vanilla program that never excited anyone.
Sometimes in the early days of a ministry, micromanagement is a necessity. But as a church grows, the board needs to move away from managing details to overseeing the big picture. This transition depends on their willingness to trust others.
Healthy boards give people freedom to do things in whatever way they deem best. In matters of taste, style, or methodology, they don’t butt in. They let those who have the responsibility for a ministry also have the authority to carry it out.
The Hessian mercenaries understood this principle as well as anyone. The three guiding principles in their Rules of Combat would serve any board well.
1. The mission’s objective and any constraints must be made explicit by the commander [the board] in advance.
In other words, everyone has to know the rules ahead of time—both the goal and the limits of their freedom. For instance, our youth associates need to know how we’re going to judge the success of their program. Will it be by attendance, number of new Christians, sign of spiritual growth, or the percentage of church kids that buy in? And what are their constraints? Do they have a budget? How much? Are there any programs or ministries they must provide (Sunday school, camps, or a set number of socials)?
Any good job description will do. What’s important is that both staff and key volunteers know explicitly what the board expects them to accomplish.
2. Individuals are to be given the freedom to pursue the objective as they think best in the light of local conditions.
No one knows better than those on the front line what will and won’t work. Most of us have had the experience of being forced to do something in a way that we knew was less than best. I remember once being forced to use a certain speaker, who I knew would be boring, at a conference I was planning. Worse, I had to emcee the meetings and introduce the speaker. That put me in a compromising position. If I promoted the conference, knowing full well our people would get little or nothing out of it, my credibility would suffer. If I downplayed the conference, and no one came, I’d have a financial disaster on my hands. Needless to say, the board’s interference was not appreciated.
This principle is particularly important when dealing with staff. Why hire an expert if we aren’t going to let him do his thing? When our board hires someone, we look for the wisest and most gifted person we can find. For us to kibitz and control the details of the ministry would waste his or her gifts and indict our judgment in hiring.
3. The freedom of officers [ministry leaders] is to be limited only when it’s essential in order to coordinate their actions.
Keeping everyone moving in the same direction is one of the board’s primary jobs. Sometimes that calls for reining in a particular ministry. I know of one church where the music program became so large that the splashy programs and travel tours left few volunteers for anything else. So when the director asked for permission to raise funds for another bus and still more sound equipment the board had to say no.
Occasionally, a special emphasis or program will also mandate that freedom be temporarily set aside. During a missions emphasis we can’t have the youth group off on a ski trip, or the women’s ministry hosting a weekend retreat. But other than times like these, it’s hands off. Even if we doubt an idea will work, we try to give people the freedom to give it a shot. That’s what trust is all about.
Copyright © 1997
