Ordinary Time

Our world seems far from ordinary. Countries are in conflict. Social contracts are in tatters. Global climate change threatens millions of people. Despite this, when I review today’s liturgical readings, I am reminded that we are in the 34th week of ‘ordinary time’. Yesterday, Thanksgiving, held no special significance. Today, Black Friday, is not on the Christian calendar radar. Spiritual solemnity, and feasts of Biblical significance, begin in December. That season starts on Sunday.

This shouldn’t be surprising: the rituals and rhythms of religious calendars have their roots in millennial-aged traditions, not the century or decade-framed view of the modern secular world. Native Americans and Pilgrims did not break bread at the time of Christ. The cycle of the sun did not rotate around consumer purchases, the gross domestic product, and economic indicators when the prophets and founding influences of the major religions walked the earth.

Still, it does seem a bit outdated to call this the 34th week of “ordinary time”. Sure, a little research informs me that this is a mere numbering convention, that the word “ordinary” derives from “ordinal”, and that we aren’t meant to see this and the other thirty-three so-called ordinary weeks as unimportant but rather as continuous opportunities for spiritual engagement separate from the special weeks of Advent, Passover, and Easter. I shouldn’t get caught up on a simple word like ordinary.

But I do. And I am. I don’t feel reassured by an etymological explanation regarding the reason for the terminology.

Because this is not an ordinary time. Too much depends on our recognition of how unique a time this is. The future of our existence, near and distant, hinges on our ability to appreciate the pivot point in history on which we stand.

No, the sky is not falling. But it could, if we don’t care for our environment better.

No, society is not crumbling. But it could, if we don’t care for each other better.

No, the dream of becoming something more is not lost. But it could elude us, if we don’t recognize the fundamental role that spirit plays in our lives.

And that last one, the risk of not realizing our potential, is what challenges me, deep down, when I dive into my discomfort with the word ‘ordinary’. I have not been a religious man, at least from the perspective of church attendance and steadfast adherence to doctrine and dogma. Although raised in faith, I have wandered. However, like most people, there has always been a yearning for grounding, for understanding, for acceptance by a force and purpose beyond the physical.

I do not want today to be ordinary; I do not want tomorrow to be ordinary. I do not want you to be ordinary; I do not want to be ordinary myself.

I want today and tomorrow to be special. I want you and me to be special. I want us to achieve something positive and special together.

To do this, we must reach – beyond our limited mindsets and abilities – to the “extra”ordinary. We must strive for the special, not just during particular seasons of the year or liturgical cycle, but instead during every week of the year.

We have work to do! And that work needs all of us, body, mind, AND spirit. Only then can we realize the wonders that are possible when we, as individuals, look past ourselves and see our collective potential.

Which makes me stop – and listen – to what I have found inside the simplicity of a single liturgical calendar phrase. Perhaps there is more to certain traditions than I understand. I suppose I’ll keep reading. And be thankful for the freedom to learn about time and faith.

A.C.T.

I’ve recently been reading and thinking about leadership. It’s an important topic. Much has been published on it. And many insightful people have recordings about it on-line.

Driving to work this morning, the basic components of my leadership philosophy suddenly crystallized in my mind. There was no dramatic event on the roads. I simply turned at a stop sign and what I believed in wished me a calm and calming hello.

“A.C.T.”

The A is for authenticity. For me, this is where good leadership begins. One person’s engaging personality traits are not necessarily another’s. A person cannot mimic his way to effective and valued leadership. He has to know who he is first. Then he has to be who he is. 

Many of us may have been in situations when we tried to wear someone else’s leadership style. I know I have. Intellectually, it seems like a good idea. Emotionally, however, it’s all wrong. It doesn’t fit. People sense it.

Some years ago, I tried a different style of leadership during a stressful employment time. The organization had a new CEO. I was in executive leadership and felt the expectation of delivering results. The new CEO didn’t get me; he couldn’t understand what made me tick, why I was doing the work that I did, what motivated me to be in the position I held. Things weren’t going well. So I tried a more “direct” style of leading. I was edgier. I was less kind. One week into the test, someone whom I “knew” was angling for more authority in the organization asked me why I was acting differently. “What do you mean?” I replied. “You’re a nice guy,” my presumed competitor said. “This place is crazy enough without someone like you getting sucked into the muck. It’s too destablizing.”  Ah, I realized. Not a competitor. A colleague. Someone who relied on me in ways I had not realized.

A stands for being authentic. Don’t ever lose sight of who you are. Don’t ever, ever let someone “above” you in an organizational food chain influence you to be anyone else but who you want to be on your best day. Because that “best you” enables you to lead with “C”: clarity and charity.

Leaders don’t need all the answers. The good ones, in fact, never mislead themselves into thinking that others need answers at all. Instead, people need clarity. What are we trying to accomplish? Why? How can I (i.e. the leader) help you (i.e. the person doing direct work) better accomplish that? Effective leadership knows the answers to these questions because she understands the organization’s mission and vision. Valued leadership translates that understanding of mission and vision – clearly, consistently – to the people who are actually doing the work. 

Yet clarity is only part of the formula for true leadership. Change the “l” to an “h” and we have the other key C: Charity.

When I temporarily wore the ill-fitting management cloak of the new CEO, my words were super clear. An elementary school student could have understood me. What I wasn’t was charitable. I was talking, not listening. I was telling, not asking. I wasn’t interested in the perspective of the person on the receiving end of my communications. Interactions were transactional. I behaved as if the work we were doing was some sort of early industrial-period assembly line. Do this. Don’t do that. No need for variation. No need for individuality. Deliver. I wasn’t offering to help someone succeed. I was managing, demanding that they succeed. No doubt I’m at least slightly exaggerating my attitude and behavior during that sad week of leadership style exploration. But I am speaking truth about the underlying mindset that comes with such a management mantle. It seeks to direct. It does not desire to support.

With clarity must come charity.

And that leads us to “T”. A capitalized and bold T. For trust.

The word trust comes from the Old Norse word treysta  – to make strong, safe. Treysta has its own roots in earlier words and linguistic traditions that referred to help, protection, support, comfort, and consolation. The very word “trust” is not about me. It is about you. To trust me means that you feel that I will help, protect and support you. To trust a leader means that the leader will help you and me keep each other safe. Together. As one, we will be strong. As one, we will make our mission real.

I was startled to learn this bit of etymologic history, perhaps because I always saw trust as a characteristic of the “I” rather than the “other”. Which was entirely wrong. People “trust” a good leader not because that leader is authentic and clear but because that leader is authentic, clear, and charitable. The outcome of the organization’s efforts depends on its people and the trusted leader is someone who actually cares about the people delivering the organization’s promise in the form of its meaningful outcomes. 

But that is not enough. Leadership is trusted when it lives the principle of “us”, yes. However, leadership lives “us” when it recognizes that it is the person in organizational authority who needs to trust everyone else – not the other way around. A good leader is trusted by being authentic, clear, and charitable. A great leader takes it one crucial step further: he or she trusts in others. We all need a leader to believe in and support us. That leader – if she or he is to deserve such the title – must embrace the vulnerability and humility that accompanies her or his trusted reliance on others.

A.C.T.!, my instincts shouted this morning as I turned at a stop sign. That inner voice makes me smile. I never know what awaits me around the next corner of each day.