It was Easter Sunday 2017. I had a brilliant idea for an alternative stations of the cross service and had called it ‘Walk’. It was a journey from Good Friday to the resurrection of Jesus using a single canvas to represent the various stations. They were eventually all torn as Jesus, through the resurrection, destroyed death.
Rewind about 6 weeks and I had excitedly outlined my idea in a staff meeting. At the time we had a large team, something I wasn’t used to. Because my idea was just in the developmental stages I didn’t feel I needed any help, I was also hyper-aware of how busy everyone else was and would have struggled to articulate my vision.
Time went on and as the day grew closer I began to panic.
I wasn’t ready.
But I fully believed I was able to pull it together, after all this was my idea and something I had a very clear picture of…
Sunday evening rolled around. There was a lot to do. I was virtually alone. Rushing round the church trying to get everything set up I began to wish I’d accepted the help that had been offered numerous times leading up to the event.
I managed to muddle through it. The service went ok, but I was absolutely spent.
After we finished and were packing up, Jean and Ian (vicar and associate vicar at the time respectively) pulled me to one side for a chat. They were honest. It felt like a shotgun blast to my efforts.
“That was OK, but you clearly should have asked for help. It would have been much better. We kept offering but you didn’t accept it, you can’t keep trying to do everything by yourself.
You need to learn to be part of a team.”
By this point I knew what they meant. I had assumed that being part of a team meant helping others whilst ‘not burdening’ them. However my understanding of the latter was, in reality, just refusing help. Under the assumption I was being helpful I was infact damaging the team. My failure to accept help was not strong, it was not focussed, it was not generous, it was blinkered and arrogant.
The subsequent couple of years were full of lessons learned. I had to rethink my understanding of humility, particularly regarding letting people in to my developing ideas and thought processes. I realised that it was ok to ask for feedback on what I considered half baked ideas or grand plans which I wanted to develop into reality. What surprised me was the grace with which these ideas were received and how a second, third, even fourth pair of eyes brought fresh perspectives. I don’t know why it should have done, I always sought to respond to others’ ideas in the way mine were received.
I was growing slowly to understand what teamwork really is.
It is now December 2019 and the landscape has changed significantly. We are now a full time team of 3 rather than the 7 when the ‘Walk’ incident occurred. I am, strangely, part of the inherited memory when it comes to the staff/leadership team. My responsibilities and vision have shifted as we continue to seek God’s heart for our community; especially over the last few months since my friend, boss, and mentor, Ian Mountford, has sadly been away from work battling cancer, passing away on Dec 7th. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t felt lost.
Ian was someone I connected deeply with. An older, wiser mentor I trusted with everything. He had been helping me figure out this whole team thing as well as a load of other things I was working on spiritually, vocationally, and personally. And all of a sudden I had offered to oversee our annual carol service without my usual ‘go-to’ people for support.
I was running it. I wasn’t part of a team running it. I wasn’t subject to someone else’s decisions. It was something I had never experienced to that degree before.
I have never forgotten that ‘Walk’ conversation. So I made sure that at the earliest possible moment I ran my ‘big idea’ past someone who I knew would get it. Together we came up with a rough plan. I put together a list of people who I needed in order to pull it off.
The plan became simpler and more realistic.
I asked more people to help.
They pitched in with their ideas and thoughts, all of which offered valuable insight and contributed a fresh pair of eyes with a different skill set to the service.
Then, when it came to it, I spoke from the front just four times: a brief welcome, a short prayer, a farewell and blessing, and a request for donations.
It was a beautiful evening. Everyone pulled together and found/expressed their voice. The difference for me between ‘Walk’ and Carols by Candlelight 2019 is night and day. It represented the transformation we are all capable of. Never think you are too far gone, you are always capable of change. Do not write yourself or others off just because of previous experiences.
I am so grateful to Ian and Jean for the challenges they posed, the encouragement they gave and the honesty with which they taught. I was a pain in the butt, however it is so humbling and exciting to see the seeds that were sown starting from that conversation in 2019 start to bear fruit now, just 2 years on.
I definitely didn’t get it all right leading up to the Carol service, far from it, but I did experience something most profoundly…
Leadership is not a monologue.
We are all of blood and bones.
Ben x
Of Blood And Bones 