A cannon has a lot of similarities with a good leader. Both are powerful and aggressive, both are able to change a situation, both stick to a plan.
Yeah, well, you may not be so sure about that. Neither am I, to be honest.
Do you ever watch an old battleship movie? All the creaks and groans of the soggy wood and thick ropes give the movie gripping texture.
When those ancient ships entered a battle, they lined up beside each other and fired cannons. After a cannon was fired, it was pulled back from the outside railing by thick ropes to the center of the ship. Then it was stuffed with gunpowder and ball for the next round.
But those creaky ropes sometimes broke.
Suddenly a 3500-lb monster on wheels was raging wildly on the ship. Every wave brought a new direction for the cannon, which could easily crush a sailor or bash through the railing of the ship.
Loose cannons were terrifying. Deadly. Uncontrollable.
So my opening analogy falls flat on its face. A leader and a cannon have little in common.
Until something changes, both a leader and a cannon look successful. Both seem to accomplish what needs to be done.
Jonah was a successful leader in ancient Israel, a counselor to the king, a man of renown.
He was a prophet, accustomed to hearing God’s message and passing it on. But, when God gave him a message he didn’t like, Jonah became a loose cannon.
He severed the ropes that held him to Israel and took off. On a ship, appropriately, just to stay with our metaphor.
Jonah believed he was so established as a leader that he could decide if a plan was good or not – even if it was God’s plan. He also thought he could escape God’s presence and not be bothered anymore by God’s idea to help someone in danger.
Jonah made some odd assumptions:
He chose to escape God’s presence on a ship manned by pagans. He wouldn’t go to pagan Nineveh but he could use a pagan crew to help him get away.
He went to the hull of the ship, as though that was even farther from God’s presence.
When the storm hit, he made no effort to comfort the terrified sailors with the power and compassion of God. Was he even aware of God’s compassion?
He was willing to be thrown overboard rather than give in to God.
What kind of leadership was this? He didn’t care any more for the sailors than he did for Nineveh.
And finally we come to it: Jonah was self-centered. He knew God was offering an escape to people but he didn’t approve. These people didn’t deserve his compassion. He assumed his status – his successes – gave him the right to serve his own ideas.
There are times when a leader looks successful. Invincible. Like a powerful cannon. Sometimes we measure leadership quality by results rather than by how we help people.
As we consider our own leadership qualities, we have to look at how much we value success. What will we sacrifice to be successful? And when could that turn us into loose cannons?
QUESTION: Why would a leader trade compassion for success?
That’s a common response but there’s more to Jonah than that big whale. In fact, the whale isn’t a major part of what we’re going to learn about leadership.
A little review:
Jonah was an ancient prophet of Israel. Israel in those days was located similarly to where it is today. It’s important to realize that Israel was called the chosen people of God in ancient times.
You can find the entire story of Jonah in the Bible. It’s only four chapters long, a quick read.
Jonah was a successful prophet who advised the king and that’s a big deal. He gave a prediction to the king and it happened just like he said. In those days, prophets were expected to speak God’s message.
That’s a pretty amazing occupation and Jonah did it well. He connected the king of Israel with the message from God. He was a huge success.
This happened before the story in the book. In the book of Jonah, another message came to Jonah from God. This one was as clear as the message that gave Jonah his fame.
This time, Jonah was told to go to a city and announce a warning. That doesn’t sound so bad until we get to the details.
This city was Nineveh, the capital of the nation of Assyria. Assyria was known for its incredible cruelty to people it conquered. Think of ISIS in its prime. Ugly stuff.
Jonah had some attitude about this new assignment. Why warn people unless you were giving them a chance to change their ways? God was giving these people a chance.
And these people were not only hated barbarians, but they were also hated enemies of Israel.
Jonah said no. He hired a boat going in the other direction ran away from God. Or at least he assumed he did.
Jonah thought God couldn’t follow him to the far end of the Mediterranean Sea. But God wasn’t limited to a geographic area (why would he have cared about Nineveh if that was true?). Instead, God sent a storm to get Jonah’s attention.
Jonah finally begged the sailors of the ship to throw him overboard, to appease the storm. That’s when he ended up inside a big fish. He spent three days there with the opportunity to contemplate what he’d done.
Contrary to common belief, he didn’t repent. He just agreed to go.
Jonah gave God’s message to the people of Nineveh and then did something that really showed what he was about. He climbed a hill outside of town, put up a little shelter, and waited for the fireworks.
He expected God to send fire from heaven, an amazing light show that he could enjoy. You wonder if he popped popcorn.
But the unexpected happened. The people in Nineveh listened and changed their ways. They begged God to relent. And he did.
Here’s the kicker: Jonah was furious. And then his pleasant shelter withered away and he was more furious. In the end, God challenged him.
Jonah cared more about his own point of view than he cared about an entire city. The story ends without resolution. Did Jonah learn compassion? Did he change his point of view?
Those make great discussion points, especially in a leadership context.
So here’s the summary of the story of Jonah. Here are some of the posts examining leadership lessons:
You know this person: they’ve been to leadership conferences, paid big bucks for one-on-one coaching, spew all the current buzzwords. But they don’t care much about the people they’re leading. Their team is there to help them climb the corporate ladder.
Somehow, in all the training, they forgot about the people.
And we can be sympathetic. Leading takes some planning, especially thinking ahead to the goal. There are mission statements, purpose statements, three top goals, daily to-do lists…. and none of this is a bad thing.
Leadership planning shouldn’t isolate the leader from the people.
When I was 12, I put together a play for my parents using younger siblings and cousins as actors. In my young mind, they were chess pieces to be manipulated.
Our stage was our family’s living room and my bedroom was backstage. There was a flurry of children rushing to and fro, through the small entrance door of my bedroom.
The inevitable happened. I rushed through the door as my younger brother came in. He was seven. His head crashed against the door frame as I pushed by.
Did I stop to see if he was hurt? I did not. I had a show to put on. When I returned backstage, he was sitting on my bed holding his head and crying.
Did I stop the show to tend to his injury? I did not. I had a show to put on.
I was focused on the production as I saw it and not on the people involved.
Let me introduce you to Jonah. You probably remember Jonah and the whale from the misty past. But let ’s pull back the veneer on a leader of his day.
What we know about Jonah:
He was successful
His full name is given, including his father’s name. That identifies him as a prophet of Israel. As a prophet, he spoke God’s word to others. He had predicted that King Jeroboam would restore the northern boundary of Israel. When that happened, he was known as a great prophet. There were other prophets int hat time but none were given the job that Jonah was given.
He was called a servant of the king
No play on words here. Jonah wasn’t called a servant of God – although he was known for that, too – but a servant of King Jeroboam. He hung out with royalty. He likely knew the inner court on a first-name basis.
He knew what God could do.
He had seen God save Israel even though King Jeroboam was a bad king. A king dedicated to other gods and not to God. But God delivered to Israel not what King Jeroboam deserved but protection out of God’ kindness and grace.
He was a nationalist.
Jonah was concerned with the things that kings and political leaders are concerned with: boundaries and good fortune for the nation of Israel. He was a blue-blood Israelite and proud of it.
Such a leader would expect to hear from God again.
And Jonah did. But God’s words were confusing, to say the least. God was sending Jonah to a hated enemy to warn them. Warn them why? So the destruction might not come?
Jonah was certain that Nineveh needed to be destroyed. Why should he warn them?
Jonah, the prophet and successful leader in Israel, examined this new assignment and he took off the other direction.
It’s clear that Jonah did not care for a group of people that God did care about. He was a successful leader who had forgotten that leadership is about people. We know there are bumps ahead for Jonah but that’s for another post.
QUESTION: Have you ever overlooked the people you were supposed to be caring for?
Leadership happens in odd and tricky places sometimes.
I’ll bet Aaron Brantley would have been thrilled for someone be a leader as he crawled across a concrete parking lot to get help. Brantley was attacked at a busy Detroit gas station, left with a broken leg. He crawled from the gas pump to the gas station door while people drove and walked past him.
Leadership isn’t just leading others. It starts with you and ripples out. It’s about helping even if others aren’t. Leadership is doing the right thing when others are walking away. Leadership is gathering your resources and working.
I don’t mean to condemn the people who walked away. They obviously didn’t know what to do. They may have been embarrassed or busy or a little afraid. Was this a scam? Was this practical joke? Maybe they really didn’t care.
It’s clear someone needed to step up. A leader.
Leadership doesn’t spring from our brains without any preparation. We need to think ahead. We need to be intentional about goals and plans. We need to talk to others and get some training.
We need examples to help us. Especially as followers of Jesus, we want to find God’s guidance. How do I lead as a Christian? Does that look different than other leadership models?
As followers of Jesus, we often look to the Bible. We’d like to find bullet point to clarify Christian leadership. Highlighted principles would be helpful. Maybe we can find some rules of Christian leadership.
Instead, we find stories.
But stories are good. I’ve seen leadership principles pulled from stories about presidents and generals. I’ve seen leadership points gathered from a book about building a boat. Stories can teach us more than we realize.
What can stories teach us?
Real people in real situations
We’re not told proverbs but get to see the ideas in action. We learn of the emotions of people as they interact with real-life situations.
The good the bad, the ugly
The Bible doesn’t sugar coat. We’re allowed to see mistakes, wrong motives, wisdom. The people in the Bible’s stories aren’t perfect but they have the opportunity to learn. And we can learn along with them.
The context for courage
Would you rather be told “take courage” or be told the story of a person who overcame great difficulty to succeed? Courage is more nuanced than it seems. We can get away from platitudes to real-life scenarios.
Heart of the leader illustrated
Stories bring emotion and depth. We walk with the people, hear their fears and concerns, and understand better how a leader interacts with those they lead.
Engaging
We can hang with a story longer. It has conflict, people, setting, a plot. It’s much more interesting than the bullet points we thought we craved.
Fleshed out truth
Not all principles can be put in a proverb or cliche. Stories help us see the truth in its dimensions and layers.
Mistakes managed
Leaders aren’t invincible heroes. They make mistakes. Sometimes the leader in a story figures out the error. Sometimes God corrects them. Often we see it coming, sometimes before the main character does.
The beauty of human relationships
The interaction between people always enriches leadership principles. We don’t lead in a vacuum. Or we shouldn’t. Stories illustrate that beautifully.
Long before Pinterest could puncture our creative bubble, there was the nativity Christmas cookie cutter set.
I sometimes call Pinterest the dream site: I can only do those projects in my dreams.
The cookie cutter set was like that. The box seduced me with photos of beautiful cookies in the shape of Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus in a manger. A little piping of frosting, a few sparkles in the right place and we would have a unique nativity set.
And the best part was that we could do this project as a family with everyone helping.
I bought the set.
Yes, I knew we wouldn’t get the cookies quite as perfect as the photos. We had a two-year-old at the time. He’d produce a cute but goofy little cookie.
It was OK.
I forgot to factor in his mother.
I knew we were in trouble when I pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven. Baby Jesus in the manger resembled a toasted marshmallow.
The sheep – and I’d made lots of them – all were blimps. Some had short fat legs but, since you couldn’t tell where the head was, the legs could have been porcupine prickles, too.
The camels’ longer legs had grown together while baking. “Is this a tree?” asked the six-year-old.
The shepherds had morphed into tall planks of wood and kneeling Joseph was now a giant S.
The kids were game, anyway. They slathered on frosting that was too thin so that the blues and oranges dribbled into each other making a muddy brown on the kings.
Well, I thought those were the kings because of the lumps at the top which I identified as crowns. Maybe they were cows, in which case the muddy brown frosting might make more sense.
I had planned to assemble the stable printed on the back of the box but tossed that after our older son frosted an angel as though it were a donkey. I couldn’t see displaying these.
When we were done, with sticky frosting on our fingers and sparkles drifting to the floor, I studied the blobs of cookies. “Well, this didn’t work out quite like I had hoped.”
My husband surveyed the table, surrounded by sets of eager young eyes, and picked up a cookie. “Then we’d better destroy the evidence.”
