PASTOR AND COMMANDER: ANOTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD

a sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Tim W. Jensen
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday May 2rd, 2004



I thought I’d start out this morning simply by taking a couple of minutes (more or less) to say a few nice things about President Bush. I know this may seem a little out of character for me, and that therefore some of what I have to say may sound like damning faint praise, or insincere, or even ironic, but I can’t really help that. This seemingly interminable electoral contest is steadily emerging as the most acrimonious in MY memory; and even though I know as an historian that elections often resemble open warfare (which is why they call them “campaigns”), and democracy itself many times seems like not much more than a rough and tumble, bare knuckled brawl, I still believe that at the end of the day a functional civilized society requires civil behavior, and that as a spiritual leader I ought to somehow try to model that. Not only is the ability to recognize (and even admire) the positive qualities of those with whom one disagrees an important step toward dialog, compromise, and eventual reconciliation, I also know that whenever people succumb to the temptation of “demonizing” their opposition, they run the serious risk of “misunderestimating” them as well. Even the most evil and odious political figure of the 20th century, Adolf Hitler, was a decorated war veteran wounded on the battlefield, as well as a committed and disciplined vegetarian who loathed both smoking and drinking, and loved both dogs and small children. Not much of a writer (although apparently he’s better in English than in his native German, because his translators have tended to clean up his grammar), but certainly a dynamic and inspiring public speaker, whose rabid patriotism was unquestionable. Simply to dismiss him as a madman -- a monster and an abomination -- actually minimizes the true magnitude of his evil-doing, because it ignores both its banality and its mass appeal.

But I digress. What I meant to say is that if I can find something complimentary to say about Adolf Hitler, even if it is essentially irrelevant in the greater scheme of things, I can certainly find something nice to say about George W. Bush. In fact, I can think of three things, right off the top of my head. And the first is that I know for a fact that the President is neither as dumb as he sounds, nor is he as sanctimonious and insincere as he sometimes seems to those of us who do not share his views. Let me take these one at a time. I first realized that the President is a lot smarter than he looks when I saw his SAT scores published in one of the national news magazines, and realized that they were virtually identical to mine. Not that the results of some stupid standardized test probably mean that much anyway. But personally, I’m not too sure that I’m really smart enough to be the President (and I can’t imagine any possible circumstance where I might actually have an chance to find out either -- thank God!), but I’m certainly no dummy; and I suppose that if I had the opportunity to watch my father do it first, I might feel a lot more confident that I was capable of doing the job myself as well. But my main point is that just because the President isn’t in the top one or two percent of the population intellectually doesn’t mean that he isn’t plenty smart enough to lead. If anything, the fact that he’s NOT a “wonk” is what makes him seem so personable and approachable. And if there are times when he appears a little smug and self-righteous, or even vindictive and mean spirited toward his antagonists...who isn’t? Those of us on the other side certainly haven’t been too kind to him either.

The second nice thing I wanted to say about the President is that he knows who he is and he knows his limits without surrendering to his limitations; he isn’t ashamed of being himself, and he isn’t afraid of surrounding himself with strong, smart, and outspokenly opinionated people. And this is actually relatively rare in a leader. Many leaders, I think, tend to assume that because they are in charge, their followers are all looking to THEM for direction and guidance, and sometimes they get a little swept away by this, and start to believe that they always have to be “the smartest guy in the room” -- that their leadership depends on providing the right answer in every situation every time, and that they can therefore never afford to be wrong or to appear foolish. And there are certainly times when the President appears to have fallen into this trap as well: when his need to present a strong, principled, and decisive image in public really just make him seem (at least to those of us who disagree with him) stubborn and ideologically obsessed (not to mention a little out of touch with reality). But it also seems to me that (in private at least) the President is quite adept at listening to the opinions of his advisors and other experts, as well as gauging the mood of the public (and especially his core constituencies), and then modifying his own views based on what he has learned. And this too is a positive quality in a leader: the ability to listen, to learn, and to lead your followers in the direction they want to go.

Finally, the one quality I truly admire in the President above all others is his singular ability to earn and inspire the loyalty of those who support him. On one level, there is nothing particularly mysterious about this quality: people are loyal to the President because they know he is loyal to them -- it is a reciprocal relationship of mutual obligation and responsibility. One hand washes the other. But there’s actually a lot more to it than that. I think the President inspires such strong feelings of loyalty among his core supporters because he articulates and defends a view of the world that is strongly held by people who feel that their opinions and beliefs have been profoundly marginalized in contemporary American society, and who see in him a leader who will restore that worldview and its moral values to the heart of our government’s foreign and domestic policy. They believe in him because he believes what they believe, and they all believe it with all their hearts.

I’ve been thinking a lot about leadership lately, and not just because there will be an election in six months which will once again determine the leadership of our nation for the next four years. This first Sunday in May is also the first anniversary of my election as the minister of this congregation, so I’ve also been thinking quite a bit about the differences between political and religious leadership, and likewise where they overlap, and where they ought to leave one another alone. Political leadership, at least in a democracy, is an expression of the will of the people through the principle of majority rule. Thus politics is all about the art of the possible: not merely an unvarnished manifestation of what is sometimes called “the tyranny of the majority,” but more typically a subtle combination of compromise and coalition building, together at times with a little judicious arm twisting, the ubiquitous quid pro quo, and no small amount of inflammatory pandering to the fears and prejudices of the electorate.

But religious leadership ought to be about helping people to discern the Will of God, together with a humble submission to divine authority (however you may choose to understand that concept of a “higher power”) -- not my will, but thine Oh Lord be done. Keeping these things clearly distinguished in one’s mind is not always the easiest thing to do. What’s wrong with twisting a few arms, or even knocking a few heads and kicking a few butts, when you know that God is on your side? The answer, of course, is this notion of humility -- the realization that no matter how powerful our convictions may be, we will never FULLY know and understand the mind of our Creator, and that to believe otherwise is arrogant idolatry. Faith is less about certainty of belief than it is the trusting confidence that we must act in good faith even in the midst of our uncertainty, not knowing for sure whether God is on our side, but hoping that we are on the side of God, a God who is both Just AND Merciful, Righteous AND Compassionate, and who loves All Souls with the same unconditional affection that a perfect mother might feel for her children. The experience of faith is something which should be freely shared, but never forcibly imposed; there is no place for coercion in the Kingdom of God. Or at least this is what Unitarians, Universalists, and other religious liberals have traditionally believed. Faith is a Gift of God. And we best discern God’s will for us when we are free to share our faith openly with one another, without duress or fear of reprisal.

Of course, religion and politics are not the only fields where quality of leadership significantly determines both the quality of the experience and the quality of the results. I strongly suspect, for example, if we were to do a quick survey of the number of books on the subject, most of them would deal with issues of Leadership in Business, where it is sometimes said that “managers do things right, but leaders do the right things.” And yet I wonder whether this dichotomy is really fair. Which is preferable: to do the wrong things well, or to do the right things poorly? (Actually, that statement pretty much describes the differences between our two political parties, doesn’t it?) Clearly, the best alternative is to do the right things well: in other words, to be attentive to both the process and the vision -- the quality of the relationship between the leader, the followers, and their task -- as well as the ultimate worthiness of the goal itself, and how that worthiness is best determined and communicated.

Business leaders often look to sports for metaphors that can help them understand and explain what it is they are trying to do when leading a “team” toward a “goal.” Sports are a lot simpler than life: the rules are reasonably clear and fixed, the goals are pre-determined by the rules, and both the size of the field and the duration of the game are relatively limited in scope when compared to “real life.” The job of a coach basically has three parts. The first part is to come up with a “game plan” -- a strategy that will allow the team to achieve a victory. The second part is to teach their players all the skills they will need to have in order to successfully carry out the plan. And the third part is to motivate the players to make their best possible effort, to play up to the level of their ability and maybe even a little beyond it -- to inspire and encourage, threaten and cajole, reward, punish, praise, prod, criticize, challenge, support...and so on and so on. No two coaches are exactly alike, and no two players respond to exactly the same set of motivators -- yet often a feeling of pride in the quality of one’s effort and achievements, together with fear of the shame of letting one’s teammates down, are at the heart of all these other motivations; and good coaches, good leaders in general, seem to know instinctively the exact combination of each that will work best for every player on the team. Or perhaps they know because they listen, and because they know their players as well as their players know themselves, and therefore know also what makes them tick, and how to communicate with them in a manner that that the players can easily understand.

Of course no discussion of leadership can really be complete without some exploration of the role of leadership in the military. Warfare is the attempt to impose one’s will on another through force; and the mission of the military is the management and effective application of lethal violence. Over the centuries, military organizations have turned the process of leadership development into a science, because professional soldiers know from experience that no matter how carefully you plan, no matter how rigorously you train, no matter how good your equipment is, there inevitably comes a time in combat when someone has to stand up in the face of danger and say to his comrades “follow me.” Planning, training, good equipment, unit discipline and morale, camaraderie and trust, obviously all play an important role in what happens next. But without leadership, nothing happens at all. The common assumption about moments like this is that these leaders must somehow be more courageous than the soldiers they lead, that they are so naturally brave that they simply aren’t afraid to risk their lives in the face of the enemy. But according to those who have had the experience, this isn’t the case at all. Courage under fire has nothing to do with not being afraid. True courage is about being afraid, and doing your duty anyway, because you know that the others are depending on you, and the example of your leadership, for their survival.

Here’s another interesting thing to ponder. A standard light infantry platoon in the US Army is comprised of 35 soldiers (or, as the Army would put it, “34 men and one officer” -- typically, a 2nd Lieutenant, who is probably still in his early twenties). Yet this young Lieutenant doesn’t lead this entire platoon all by himself: he is assisted by a Platoon Sergeant, three Squad Leaders, six Fire Team Leaders, and two Weapons Team Leaders...35 soldiers, and a full third of them are designated as “leaders” -- each of whom is prepared to assume the responsibilities of their superior should the latter be killed in battle. And, of course, the platoon is also supported by an entire “chain of command” which coordinates their movement with the movement of other units, resupplies them with food and ammunition, evacuates casualties and provides reinforcements, along with all of the countless other things (including chaplains) that are necessary in order for this particular platoon to be able to accomplish its assigned operational mission. It’s a pretty elaborate organization, all of which can be sent into action at the word of a single individual, the Commander in Chief, whose leadership “by precept and example” trickles down through the ranks. Yet ultimately the success or failure of our military in actual combat (and its aftermath) relies far less on the leadership of the individual at the top of the chain of command than it does on the morale, the training, and the leadership of the soldiers whose boots actually ARE on the ground, and who rely on one another in order to survive, safely, to the end of another day.

We’ve seen two vivid examples representing both the best and the worst of American soldiery just within these past few weeks. The positive example, of course, was Ranger Specialist Pat Tillman, 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, who was killed in action in Afghanistan during an ambush on April 22nd. Tillman, as you probably already know, had been the starting strong safety of the Arizona Cardinals, who left his lucrative professional football career to enlist, along with his brother Kevin, in the Rangers following September 11th. My big concern, both when I first heard about Tillman’s enlistment two years ago, and when I learned of his death last week, was that people would get the wrong message -- that they would look at his example and somehow equate being a soldier with being a professional athlete, and assume that combat was just another game. I don’t think Tillman ever felt that way, and I’m pretty sure he never intended to send that message...although you never know. Yet there aren’t that many people on this planet who are willing to walk away from a seven-figure income, and all that goes with it, in order to put themselves in harm’s way fighting for what they believe in the rugged mountains of Afghanistan. Pat Tillman was one. Osama bin Laden, interestingly enough, is another. I’m not really sure what to make of that, but there it is.

The shameful example involves the report, with explicit photographs, of the systematic abuse and humiliation of Iraqi prisoners by US Army Reserve military police at the Abu Ghraib prison. This is a complicated situation, and details are still emerging from the on-going investigation, so doubtlessly there will be much more to be learned in the weeks and months ahead. The President has said that he feels a “deep disgust” at the way these prisoners were treated (as he should), and that the behavior of these few guards does not represent the values of most American soldiers or the American people...which is certainly true. But I also believe that the President is wrong if he thinks that this is just an isolated anomaly that can be blamed on a handful of inadequately-trained and poorly-led reserve soldiers. The tone for this treatment was set much higher up the chain of command, and by decisions we have made as a nation about how we will treat the “enemy combatants” who come into our custody.

I’m not certain which profession is older -- that of the warrior, or that of the shaman -- and I’m not really sure that it matters that much either. I do know that in many ancient societies they were one and the same: the warrior king was also the chief priest, to whom the people looked for leadership at times of both military and spiritual crisis. Nowadays the two vocations don’t really appear to have much in common, although they intersect in intriguing ways. The trained, professional killer is also a dedicated professional peacemaker, whose strength deters conflict, and whose judicious use of force or the threat of force can sometimes prevent more widespread violence. Professional religious leaders, in every major religious tradition (including Islam), are typically taught that all men and women are brothers and sisters to one another in the eyes of their Creator, and that we should do unto others as we would have others do unto us; that the redeeming power of God’s love is more powerful than our own human desire for revenge, and that we most completely destroy our enemies when we make them our friends. But when righteous anger becomes wedded to religious zeal, bad things happen. Call it Jihad or call it a Crusade, when we dehumanize our enemies we dehumanize ourselves, rationalizing and justifying our evil behavior with the lame excuse that we are only doing God’s will.

Here “in the trenches” of religious life in America, in the day to day activities of local congregations like our’s, we don’t often talk about these “big issues” of leadership. Here the talk is all about “shared ministry” and the role of the “equipping pastor” -- a leader who gives to the people the tools, and training, and guidance they need to pursue effectively their own “call” to serve. A “coach.” Yet what we do here is not unconnected to what is happening in the wider world. Our faithful attempts to do the right things well, to inspire and encourage one another to excellence, and to lead by example as well as by precept, are not confined just to this building, or even to our little town. In some abstract, spiritual way, the light we bring to our endevours truly does shine beyond ourselves. So carry this flame of peace and love in your hearts, in everything you undertake. And may the light you bring to all you do become a shining example to all the world.

READING

[Ft Lewis] Installation Chaplain's Office
Unit Ministry Teams Mission

• Operate a state-of-the-art spiritual power projection platform for the warfighter by providing them a superior religious support program and infrastructure that ensures the well being of our soldiers, civilians, retirees and their families through free exercise of their beliefs and gives them the opportunities for the positive life changing lessons, power and stability that transform people of faith.

I Corps Unit Ministry Teams Mission
• To provide or perform religious support for all authorized personnel of I Corps and Fort Lewis during peacetime and across the full spectrum of war in order to support the command in the facilitation of the free exercise of religion.
• To advise the command in matters of religion, morals, morale, and ethical issues in order to support the unit mission.