The Root of Leadership
How to fain, and maintain, your people's trust.
More important—over the long haul—is how trust comes into play in the personal encounters of pastoral life. Years ago I had the privilege of leading a young man to faith in Jesus. At the time he was living with a girl who was the daughter of one of our church leaders. Her family had despaired that she (or he) would ever walk in biblical light. Then one Sunday (for reasons I have forgotten) the two of them came to worship. At the end of the service, I met this couple, conversed with them, and eventually witnessed this young man's conversion and change of life. The young woman, raised in faith but obviously drifting, came back to spiritual life as a result. It wasn't long before the two of them—recognizing the importance of biblical obedience—asked if I would marry them. I was delighted. Then they cautioned me. Her father and mother, they said, would likely be hostile to their marriage. On behalf of the couple, I would have to approach the parents and gain their permission. I agreed to do this. I recall sitting in the living room of this long-time Christian mother and father. The drama of the moment is such that even now, many years later, I can recreate my words to them. Calling them by name, I said, "I'm going to ask you to trust me. It is my judgment that your daughter and her boyfriend should marry. I believe that he is ready to be a loving and responsible husband and that she is prepared to assume the disciplines of marriage. I want you to support their desire to get married." There was a short quite pause as the parents took this in. Then the father said these words: "Pastor, we trust you. And if you think they are ready to be married, that this is a good decision, we'll give them our blessing." And they did. This couple has now been married for more than 25 years, and the judgment we all made has been vindicated over and over. It would not have happened, however, if I had not been able to trade on trust. The great Victorian physician, Sir William Osler once said to medical students: "The practice of medicine is an art, not a trade; a calling, not a business; a calling in which your heart will be exercised equally with your head. Often the best part of your work will have nothing to do with potions and powders, but with the exercise of an influence of the strong upon the weak, of the righteous upon the wicked, of the wise upon the foolish. To you, as the trusted family counselor, the father will come with his anxieties, the mother with her hidden grief, the daughter with her trials, and the son with his follies. Fully one-third of the work you do will be entered in other books than yours" (italics mine). |



