Back on the playground, tag was a fun game—fun until the sound “You’re it!” rang in my ear and I felt a rude slap on my shoulder. Being tagged meant feeling a panicky self-consciousness as my friends ran squealing away to the schoolyard boundaries. But the feeling was short-lived, ending as soon as I could catch someone else unawares and pass on the mantle of “It!”
At times, leading Bible studies and church committees can bring on the same feelings. When you first are selected or “volunteered” to lead a group, you may feel you’re squirming under the hot lights of examination. Can I do this? Will people accept me?
At least, I felt those feelings when I first began leading a women’s Bible study. Along the way, though, I learned some important lessons about being a new leader.
Following a Class Act
“Sharon’s group”—that’s what we called our weekly women’s Bible study. I remember Pastor inviting her to the front of the church to announce the group. Tall and blond, Sharon reminded me of an Olympic skier. With sunny confidence, she described how a Bible study had changed her life and how she hoped to begin such a study at our church. I wanted to be like her; I wanted to be in this group. The lengthy sign-up sheet in the narthex proved I was not alone.
For over two years, seated weekly around Formica tables in Founders’ Hall, we earnestly shared our thoughts about Ephesians, then Galatians, the Gospel of Mark, and Psalms. The number of tables grew. We broke into smaller groups and rotated discussion leadership. But Sharon would always close, summarizing our feelings about the text and adding a challenging word of encouragement.
Increasingly, and with pride, I became Sharon’s right hand, organizing materials and making announcements. From time to time I wished I could be in her shoes, I could be the leader, but then I’d see her handle a tough question with grace. I couldn’t imagine myself coming through the way she did, so I was glad for the status quo. Sharon always called it “the Bible study,” but we always called it “Sharon’s group.”
We did until one spring day when Sharon announced her husband’s transfer and their impending move to California. Out there she would undoubtedly start another group. But what would we do? Thinking about her moving, I felt as though Founders’ Hall itself was to be yanked from the church. But Sharon had no qualms about us. It was time, she said, that our group generate its own leadership, that we even branch out and start a second group.
That’s how she saw things. But we envisioned our Bible study falling apart. I tried to picture Shelley or Rose as the new leader, and I tried to picture myself. Over the summer we talked about it and prayed about it. But in our minds’ eye, Sharon’s presence overshadowed us. All we could see was a leadership gap.
On the third Wednesday morning of September, as we stood around our Formica tables, I was the one holding a piece of paper that said Agenda and looking at the first item: Welcome the group. Listening to the hum of women discussing summer trips and preschool enrollments, I felt cornered. Why did I agree to this? I moaned to myself and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. “Buck up!” I said under my breath. After all, Shelley and Rose had told me not to worry, that I’d do a great job. But when I saw those two take seats at a back table, I felt like the person who’d picked the shortest straw.
Yes, last year, with dynamic Sharon to watch, I had wanted to be in her place. Part of me had thought that I could do it, could motivate women to make a habit of Bible reading, that I could be the leader. But as I moved toward the podium, all the welcoming phrases I had thought of seemed muddled and out of reach. How did Sharon do it? I thought. Her voice never quivered.
The room quieted down. Eyes and still faces began to look up, and I saw what was bothering me most. This was not just any group. These were my friends, and they had never seen me act as leader before. What would they think? Would they keep coming? If they quit the Bible study in a week or two, I would feel they were rejecting me. The moment to start had to come soon. And then, like receiving a lifeline, I saw the high-voltage, freckly faced smile of Becky, my neighbor and old friend. Spontaneously I smiled back. For about fifteen seconds she kept up a twinkling eye contact, and that bit of happy interaction calmed me. The words began to flow. Later I thanked both Becky and God for her nonverbal support.
So I did welcome the group that day—not with Sharon’s flair, but with sincerity. And all year I went back, and back, and back to Founders’ Hall, not always because I wanted to, but because God kept shoving me out the door. He didn’t seem to care that I kept comparing myself to Sharon, or that I was worried my friends would reject me. In fact, I think he used those things to frighten me into doing a good job. If I’d had my druthers, I wouldn’t have followed a star like Sharon, but after some time, I learned from that experience.
What If You Don’t Have Charisma?
One thing I learned is that sincerity can rival charisma—but it takes time.
At first I was surprised how well things were going. Attendance didn’t fluctuate much, discussions were lively, and it seemed to me that with every passing week I welcomed the group with more humor and less starch.
But there were grumblings. These women missed Sharon, as I did. And while they didn’t want to be critical, their “missing” leaked out. At times, while getting coffee, I would overhear a snatch of conversation like “I’m not sure I can keep coming all year; it depends.” Or Rose would tell me that So-and-so was thinking of attending another group. While those comments felt unsettling, I didn’t act on them, since they weren’t made to me directly.
Then, at the close of a morning, Mary said she had a question and asked rather plaintively, “Do you think we’ll be able to get to know each other this year?”
I was puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she said, “that making friends here has always been important to me. Will we have more time for that?”
Still puzzled, and embarrassed in front of the group, I tried to answer that yes, I hoped we would deepen our friendships while we learned.
Mary’s question rattled me. What did she mean? Why did she feel that friendship making was threatened this year? And why did she have to blurt out her question? As we put the chairs away, I went over to ask her.
“Well,” she said with a hesitating smile, “it’s just that those typed agendas you hand out and the shorter prayer time make me feel that maybe this year the Bible study is too businesslike for me.” My brow furrowed slightly, and she went on. “The Bible study is good, but this year we don’t spend as much time sharing problems and prayer requests. That’s how I get to know people. That’s what I need.”
So that was it: I was too businesslike, and that made Mary fear this year would not provide the warmth of last year. Her fears got my fears going: Do others feel this way? Is the sense of connectedness among these women breaking down?
Making a mental review of the previous weeks, I decided I probably had been too businesslike. Should I start changing? Or should I let Mary and the others get used to a quicker pace? Wouldn’t the Bible stand on its own? Wasn’t God really in charge of the group? Did my style really matter?
A gnawing answer inside me said, Yes, my style does matter. The Bible itself shows us that effective leadership does make a difference. But feeling unsure about how to change, I hollered for help.
Do You Have to Go It Alone?
While I remained the leader, Shelley, Rose, and I formed a leadership team. Sharon had been more of a one-man show with helpers. I couldn’t pull that off, so the three of us began to meet regularly to discuss how to increase the friendship factor and how to handle compulsive talkers. We also prayed for the group.
Some results were cutting out agendas, lengthening the prayer time, and by the end of the year, rotating among ourselves up-front leadership. I was sincere, Shelley was funny, and Rose was energetic. The team approach spread responsibility for decisions and gave the church three new leaders instead of one.
The friendship factor in our Bible study did seem to build. One week Mary read from her Phillips version of the New Testament. Dawn admired it. So the next week, Mary brought her a Phillips to keep. I thought to myself, That looks like friendship!
Other evidence was a grass-roots-organized, once-a-month potluck following the Bible study. At one potluck, we passed around a card for all to sign and mail to Sharon. When it was my turn to sign, amid the “I miss you’s” I read many comments about how well our group was going this year. Seeing those positive words made me feel as good as if the card had been meant for me. From then on I stopped comparing myself to Sharon.
The team approach also helped with compulsive talkers. Sometimes handling these people is like trying to hold back the tide. As a new Bible study leader, I was afraid to hurt their feelings. But after six months of trying everything I could to limit one person’s monopolizing, I felt angry.
Sharon had handled deftly the big talkers and opened up the quiet ones. Not having her skill, Shelley, Rose, and I rotated the job of saying things like “Thank you, Marge. Does anyone else have a different opinion?”
How Can You Handle Complaints?
Our leadership team decided that instead of overhearing negative comments, we wanted to bring them into the open. If people felt irritated, disappointed, or bored, we wanted to know so we could respond. Every few weeks, at the end of a morning, we asked questions. “How do you think the study is going?” That was typically answered by a chime of people saying “Great!”
While the answer was fun to hear, the vagueness of the question made it somewhat unproductive. Unproductive until later. While we were putting on our coats or walking to our cars, someone would quietly offer a more constructive comment, such as, “I like the group, and maybe it’s me, but I’m getting tired of Romans. Could we move on soon?”
That was the kind of feedback we were after, even if it came in the parking lot. Then we’d bring that remark back to the group, anonymously if the person wished, and discuss it. We decided, for example, that to help Romans take an early bow, we would double up on the remaining chapters.
After asking, “Is this schedule working?” and “Should we lengthen the discussion time?” a referendum decided we should start and end the Bible study half an hour later. Out-of-town moms of little ones were having a hard time getting there on time.
But the greatest input came after asking, “What should we study next?” After Romans, the group wanted a change from doctrine, and so we moved to the Gospel of Luke. After Luke, the Old Testament seemed appealing, and we studied Proverbs. The rule of thumb that developed was that after six or eight weeks in one part of the Bible, people usually wanted a change of pace.
It may seem that soliciting these questions is asking for trouble. But we found opinion gathering brought out good ideas and led to a greater sense of community. It cut down on complaints. But the best result was that after coming right out and asking for their opinions, I could stop wondering and worrying about what the group was thinking.
What If You Don’t Know What to Do?
It helped me to learn that I could go to my leaders for counsel. After two members of the group bitterly argued about the doctrine of election versus free will, I wondered if I should have cut off the discussion.
Later, I talked to one of our pastors about how to diffuse conflict. His advice was “swiftly, but keep smiling.” He elaborated that when healthy discussion turns to a personal attack, it’s time for the leader to move the group to a new subject—and then, with a smile, offer to meet later with the angered people to continue their discussion. We haven’t seen that kind of emotion in the group since then, but when we do, I’m ready!
Are They Friends or Members?
When Jan and Karen walked in together, late, I took it as an affront; I interpreted their lateness as not caring about me. And when Becky, my super-supporter, decided she had to drop the study to make time for going back to school, I was hurt. Perhaps more stung than hurt.
I didn’t bring up my feelings with our leadership team, although I should have. What happened was my ego seemed to toughen up. Leadership has rewards, and those rewards began to overpower my fears of rejection from friends.
One reward was seeing a newly widowed woman, who yearned to join our group, slowly become a part of it. At first she felt embarrassed when her grief spilled out during prayer time. Despite hugs and quiet, affirming words from us, that embarrassment would keep her away for weeks. When she finally started to come regularly, we knew that the cards, calls, and prayers for her were paying off.
Seeing her and other new people keep coming bolstered my leadership self-image. After a while it no longer seemed so crucial that my friends always be there, and always be on time. They could still be my friends, and I could still be the leader. They had the right to be regular members.
Leadership Is Worth It
Obviously, leading is full of learning. For all the time consumed and opportunities for rejection and feelings of being on the spot, why would anyone say yes to leadership?
One reason is that unlike the “tagged” person, the leader in any group is most seen, most listened to, and most followed. This visibility isn’t just ego boosting; it means getting to see God using your life.
I remember looking around Founders’ Hall on the first snowy morning of December. The tentative crowd of September had become a solid group of enthusiastic faces. At that moment I realized our group had hung together; we had not splintered. Smiling to myself, I remembered how nervous I had felt standing in front of these people. Now I was glad that I had been the one to give the welcomes each week and keep things rolling.
Being the leader is risky, because it means committing to the group before anyone else does. But that December day, as we discussed the wise and foolish builders of Luke 6, the group beamed back to me nonverbal sign that my commitment was well-placed.
So Sharon was right: God does want new opportunities for the church to grow. And therefore, God is in the business of training new leaders. Some have more talent at leading. But deep down, good leaders know that before the Bible studies went well, before attendance started to grow, there were some humbling, fumbling beginnings. So best of all, leaders get to see a miracle happen in their own lives, the miracle of becoming effective leaders.
Virginia Vagt is a homemaker and leads a women’s Bible study at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, Geneva, Illinois.
Copyright © 2002 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
