Unequal Relationships

“Your relationship with another person is not the same relationship he or she has with you.”  I heard Andy Stanley say this in his recent message series, “The Weight of Your Words.”  I wish had heard it decades earlier.  It explains so much of my life, my frustrations in friendships, and my frustrations as a leader.

The truth of Andy’s statement is obvious when we think about our relationships with our parents and with our children.  These are not relationships of equals.  Most of us start our marriages by believing we can be equal partners.  The truth is I don’t want my wife to be my husband and she certainly doesn’t want me to be her wife.  We try to keep power dynamics out of our marriage, but we have a different relationship to each other.

I have been in several relationship triads.  Three of us were close friends, but there are times when I felt like the third wheel. Our relationships were not the same.  The other two in the triad had been friends longer and had more shared experiences; I was the newcomer they let in, but was always having to hear about experiences they had before I knew them.

In the first church I served that had staff, I thought we were a team and I would be first among equals.  It took me about fifteen years to learn that would never be the case.  As the pastor, I was the leader.  I often felt left out of the social moments on staff retreats.  I would walk into a room for a meeting and the laughter would stop.  I was not one of the guys.

I made the dynamic worse by trying to be “one of the guys.”  I would cut up and joke, and then get mad when everyone wanted to keep joking around and I was ready to be serious.  That was my fault. I didn’t help matters by getting mad when the staff didn’t respond to my agenda swings.

Our executive pastor reminds me my words weigh more than anyone else’s on the team.  I might make a sarcastic comment in some attempt to be funny, not realizing I just wounded someone.  A flippant idea might be taken seriously when I meant for people to simply think about this as a possibility and report back if it feasible. 

I often see this with Student Pastors.  They want to be “Buddies” with the kids they lead.  If a person takes this approach, they will fail.  Students need leadership.  Yes, you have relate to the kids, but kids can sniff out a phony faster than a pig can find a strawberry.  A student pastor’s relationship with his or her students is not the same as their relationship with him.

Edwin Friedman reminds leaders they are different than the people they lead.  He calls this “the self-differentiated leader.”  You do not depend on others for your sense of self.  You cannot expect others to understand what it is truly like to sit in your chair.

Jesus understood this.  When James and John asked to sit at his right and his left when he came into his Kingdom, Jesus responded, “You do not know what you are asking.  Can you drink from the cup I am about to drink from.”  They responded, “We can.”  Jesus, maybe with a smile on his face, said, “You will, but to be seated at my right and my left is for my Father to decide.”  I think that was Jesus’ way of saying, “ You will experience the thrill and pain of leadership, and it won’t be like you think.”

If you are a leader, own it.  Your relationship with the people you lead is not the relationship they have with you.

Saying "No"

No one teaches a child to say “no.”  It comes naturally.  A two-year-old spouts “no” like a spring rain sprouts weeds.  If you could enter that child’s mind (shudder) you would find “no” is way to assert power, gain control, and set boundaries.  If you have a strong-willed child, you know the strength behind their efforts.  They can wear you down.

Every child, of course, must learn his or her “no” is not the final word.  I learned early.  Dr. Spock had not made it to rural Florida in my growing up years.  I vividly remember telling my mother “no” as a child.  She grabbed my father’s old belt and commenced to changed my “no” to “yes.”  Though it would take me years to understand, my mother was preparing me for life.  I needed to learn my will was not absolute. 

Yet as an adult, saying “no” is an essential skill.  I said “no” to some opportunities so I could say “yes” to others. I said “no” to two colleges that accepted me so I could say “yes” to the college that was the best fit.  I said “no” to fraternity life so I could avoid temptations I was not strong enough to handle (nothing against fraternities, I just knew my own weaknesses).  I said “no” to pastor a church plant so I could say “yes” to graduate work.

There’s nothing quite like marriage to drive home the need to say “no.”  If you want your marriage to be successful and happy, you must learn to say “no” to things you want and “yes” to things that build your relationship.  When children come, you have to say “no” to old ways of living so you can say “yes” to your kids.  Andy Stanley tells about unpacking all his recording equipment when his kids were small and realizing that habit took up too much of his time.  So, he packed it up, sold it, and invested that time with his kids.   He said “no” so he could say “yes.”

If you lead any kind of organization, “no” is an essential leadership tool.  I think about times we hired the wrong people at my work.  In almost every instance, I was uneasy about the hire.  I should have said, “no.”  Instead, I thought, “Let’s give them a chance.”  We did, they blew it, and I had to clean up the mess.

Wisdom is knowing when to say “no” and when to say “yes.”  Before I became pastor of my present church, a church interviewed me and wanted me to be their pastor.  I visited, but something didn’t feel right.  I prayed.  I felt no peace.  I had every logical reason to say “yes.”  I took the unusual step of attending a service there with my wife.  When the service was over, we got in our mini-van, looked at each other and said, “No.”  When my present church contacted me, I had same unease.  I remember praying through the decision late one night.  This time I had a peace, and we said “yes.”

“No” has a power no other word has.  It sets a boundary.  It refuses temptation.  It steers us away from danger.  “No” can break addiction.   

To say “no” and mean it requires courage.  It is easier to give in, avoiding all the begging and pleading to change our minds.  “No” may not open as many doors as “yes,” but the doors it opens tend to be the right ones.

Jesus said “no” to three temptations.  First, he said “no” to making stones into bread.  He said “no” to being controlled by his appetites (Ouch).  Next, he said “no” to throwing himself down from the pinnacle of the Temple.  He said “no” to putting on a show.  Finally, he said “no” when Satan offered him a short-cut: “I give you all the kingdoms of the world if you worship me.”  He said “no” to the easy way.

To what do you need to say “no?”  To whom do you need to say “no?”  Could it be your path to a better life starts with a simple two letter word: “no?”