the one about leadership

Based on Jeremiah 23:1-6; Luke 23-33-43.

Repeat after me, please:  There is a ruler. There is a leader. There is an authority.  There is a guide.  There is a shepherd.  There is a mighty protector.  There is a powerful Presider.  There is a King.  There is a Savior of the World.  And I know….it is not me. 

Two weeks ago, the Friday after the election, I wanted to clear my head, think prayerfully about Sunday morning, and get away from the constant drum beat of American politics.  I also needed to meet with a colleague to talk about a group exercise I would be leading, and led yesterday, with a group of church leaders on behalf of our synod staff.  Jennifer and some colleagues were meeting at Camp Kirchenwald for a morning prayer walk.  I asked if we could meet there and if I could join the walk.  That morning as I was preparing to go, Jen called and said that her 10 year old daughters were off school and wanted to know if my kids were, too.  They wanted to come to camp, but wanted something to do there.  I told her my kids were not off, but my puppy was available and would love to come and play with them at camp.  So I brought Katie along.  The plan was that I would lead the small group around camp on a silent prayer walk, because I knew the camp trails.  The girls would walk Katie on her leash to another part of camp to play.  We all started off in the same direction.  Suddenly, the girls unleashed Katie and disappeared.  Katie followed us, well, ran ahead of us and around as we walked.  I did not have her leash.  I figured she would stay with us.  Then we turned left to head toward the lake.  Katie didn’t.  I walked on about 50 yards and noticed her absence.  I told the group to continue down the trail, while I backtracked to retrieve my retriever.  I found her with a feather in her mouth just off the trail behind a large fallen tree.  I called to her sternly to come.  I approached her and she took off.  She ran back down the trail we came up.  I called her again, "Katie, come".  She took off.  I followed chase.  I was getting angry.  I had left the group and was running after her.  I called her again, "Katie, come".  She ran faster.  I ran after her.  Down the hill, across the log bridge, up the hill.  When I emerged, breathing hard, she was no where to be seen.  A little panic set in.  O God, I lost my puppy.  My wife and kids are gonna kill me.  I ran around calling after her.  Nothing.  I was thinking about how we disturbed the prayer walk.  I was thinking about the girls' promise to walk her and watch her.  What were the others thinking?  Were they annoyed that I brought her?  Were they concerned about us?  I projected my feelings on them.  I ran back to the lodge where we started.  There she was.  Huddled behind a chair.  When I yell, I scare her.  She usually runs into her crate at home.  This time, she ran back to the lodge.  I scooped her up, angry and relieved.  I wanted to kill her and hug her.  It was a cool fall morning, so I put her in my car with the windows down.  As I headed back down to find the others, I ran into the girls with the leash.  I told them they could get her out of the car and walk her on the leash.  They didn't.  As I headed the opposite way down the lake I felt anger, frustration, and anxiety.  What happened to the group?  Had they found their way without me?  When I came to the lake there they were. Sitting quietly, enjoying the warm sun reflected on the water, in the brightly colored leaves.  They were safe, at peace, resting.  I was a mess.  I sat by a tree and tried to let the earth and the sun take the toxic anger and anxiety out of my body.  Slowly, I began to recover and enter a place of quiet peace.  We got up and walked back to the lodge.  On the way, God spoke to me.  By the time we got back to the lodge I was practically in tears.  And I needed to share what God said.  The group convener asked us to share how we felt during the walk,  the intention was to spiritually center us in the beauty of creation.  I spoke. My experience on the walk resembled my current leadership.  I reflected:  Am I leading a community of people on a spiritual journey together or am I chasing after stray animals?  This is how pastoral leadership feels much of the time.  And it is lonely to be in front or to be the one who chases the strays.  Why does no one else feel compelled to help?  The girls left her off the leash.  They were complicit.  The group felt no need to stop what they were doing to help me retrieve the dog.  I was alone.  I felt the tension in myself, the occasional feeling of overwhelming responsibility, the insanity of going after those running in the wrong direction,  the constant nagging sense of failure.  I felt strongly that both those willingly going on the journey and the stray animal needed me. And for some reason, I loved that stray animal and would never think to abandon her, lest she get lost.  I thought of the parable of the lost sheep and the shepherd who abandons the 99 to find her and bring her home.  But I also thought of Jesus leading disciples.  He could somehow balance between investment of time with his disciples and going after the lost, the hurting, the broken, and the rejected.  I had not achieved this balance in my life.  And I was hurting because of it.  I thought that my faith community was struggling because of my leadership, too. 

And now this election said to me, we are in a national leadership crisis.  Half of the country is eager to follow.  Half of the country disavows the elected President. If it had gone the other way, the roles would be reversed and “Not my President” would still be chanted.  Congress, courts, state houses, Presidents.  Dems, republicans. We have a moral crisis in leadership and an erosion in trust, authority, and security. It did not begin in 2016 and it will not end on inauguration day.   There is a lot of fear and anger right now directed toward public leaders.         

But God also said to me, notice how the group ended up exactly where you wanted to lead them despite your absence.  Notice how content and placid they were by the lake?  Notice the stray dog ended up safe even before you could catch her and bring her to safety?  That was me.  My grace. My love.  My leadership.  My power.  My authority.  So you can rest.  Be at peace.  Trust me. Remember that you are a follower, too.  And you need to receive from me the Holy Spirit, again and again.  Or you will be led astray.  And lead others, too.  The blind often lead the blind.  But I have given you the eyes to see me.  The eyes of faith.  Do not take your eyes off of me.  I will lead you, give you rest, shelter you, heal you, forgive you when you fail, and welcome you to myself. You are mine. 

Here’s what I see on this reign of Christ Sunday.  When Israel’s rulers were corrupt and they faced a national leadership crisis, when their religious leaders were corrupted by power over people for selfish gain, God promised a shepherd that God himself would appoint and send.  This shepherd came in the form of a son.  He led people on a spiritual journey in the wilderness, offering grace and mercy and healing for all.  He went after the strays and the lost and the losers and invited them in to his life.  He was crowned as King and crucified on the same day.  Because authentic leadership rooted in love is dangerous and risky and unseen.  No President or congressional leader or pastor does what He did.  No one does.  On the cross, he is finally revealed as the one true shepherd King and savior of the world.  And the one who sees him for who he is, was hanging next to him.  A criminal.  Condemned by the world.  Sentenced to the ultimate punishment.  Death.  One we all face eventually, by the way.  And in that moment, King Jesus makes a promise to him, to me, to you, to all of us.  Today you will be with me in paradise.  The king has come.  His just and peaceful rule has already begun.  His resurrection confirms it and enthrones him forever.  Jesus is my Lord, my King, my master, my shepherd, my savior. And he is yours.  Forever and ever.  Amen.