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Paying Attention
From the time we were children we were told to âpay attention,â as if this were the simplest thing in the world. But in fact attentiveness is one of the most difficult concepts to grasp and one of the hardest disciplines to learn. For we are very distractible people in a very distracting world.
âLeighton Ford, The Attentive Life
What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray?
âMatthew 18:12
The emergence of a leader is a life-time process in which God both sovereignly and providentially is active in the spiritual formation, ministerial formation, and strategic formation of a leader. All of life is used by God to develop the capacity of a leader to influence.
âJ. Robert Clinton, Leadership Emergence Theory
In 1905 the Grand Trunk Railroad was beginning to wend its way through southeastern Saskatchewan. Along the newly laid tracks, one particular community was given the name Ituna; today it has a population of around seven hundred. It is said that Ituna got its name because the letter âIâ was next in the alphabetâthe last few communities had already been named Fenwood, Goodeve and Hubbard. It is also believed that Ituna got its name from Rudyard Kiplingâs story âPuck of Pookâs Hill.â In that story, Kipling tells of a wall built by the Romans to keep out the Scots. The wall spanned what is now the English countryside from Segedunum on the east coast to Ituna on the west, and still exists today. In any event, the hardworking and rugged Itunians appreciate the peculiar history of their townâs name.
The railroad brought with it opportunity for Anglo-Saxon and Ukrainian settlers to clear the bush and squat on the land with the hope of someday making a livelihood from their new farms. Purchase of the land was made official when the settlers could put up a building or two within three years and come up with the $10 to pay for their 160 acres.[1]
Many of those early farms remain in the same families that had the courage and fortitude to settle the land all those years ago. These are hardworking folks who still pride themselves on an honest dayâs work and a type of farming that keeps the land clean. Their commitment to farming and their love for the land has also brought with it a lifestyle of simplicity and frugality. All this may sound admirable, but a visit to the local coffee shop and some discreet eavesdropping would reveal fatigue with the farming way and hope that someday a stroke of luck might come alongâoften expressed as a hope for the winning ticket in âLotto 649.â The stories of complaint turn into stories of dreamingâdreaming of what life and farming would be like if âonly luck would come our way.â
Recently, on some of the same family farms in the Ituna area, mining companies were given permission to do exploratory testing for various types of underground mineral deposits. These mining prospectors soon became the brunt of much coffee shop banter, conversations which were mainly a mixture of disbelief and offense that someone from outside Ituna could tell them something new about their land. However, these conversations soon took on a different character when, to the utter shock of the farmers, the mining prospectors discovered diamonds on their properties.
There are seasons in our lives when, like those Ituna farmers, we find ourselves wondering, Is this as good as it gets? Or from time to time we may hold onto a secret wish: If only luck would come my way. Our lives are often lived in the tension between being dutiful to what we have been given to do (raise kids, till the land, pay the bills, etc.) and dreaming for another way of life that is more true to what we hope our life could someday become by Godâs grace. In Ephesians 2:1-10 the apostle Paul addresses this hope for another way of life. He shares some very good and âluckyâ news with the community in Ephesus. He writes that they have been delivered from the life that they once lived, a way of life that really was death (v. 1). But now God has âmade us alive together with Christâ (v. 5). He then elaborates on this new way of life:
By grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of Godânot the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. (vv. 8-10)
God had already deposited something greater under the surface of their lives. These gracious deposits included first and foremost a salvation to a restored and ever-growing relationship with Godâa relationship that would have implications for every aspect of their lives. Second, these gracious deposits included a promise of being uniquely designed by God to participate in the work he does, the good works which were to become our way of life.
It is sadly misguided to think of these good works as being primarily of concern for apostles, pastors or missionaries. This Ephesians 2:10 way of life is good news for all followers of Jesus. You have been created for good works. Consider how this is such good news for those persons in your setting or sphere of influence, those who are wondering, struggling, maybe even yearning to believe that there might be so much more going on in their lives beyond what they experience on the surface. We enter a whole new dimension of development when we begin to care deeply about inviting others into a personal exploration of how God has been graciously preparing them for a good works way of life. We each would do well to become prayerfully attentive to this question, How might God want us to invite others in our midst to dig below the surface of their lives and discover what is already there? If we had the courage to do so, our efforts would most surely bring with them an alignment toward a new way of life for these folks and for our communityâa good works sort of life as surprising as diamonds in Ituna.
But so long as our leadership formation lacks this below-the-surface exploration work, it makes sense that we will then continue to struggle in our efforts. Why is it that in so many pockets of the church (broadly speaking), itâs a struggle to get people below the surface and empowered to live an Ephesians 2:10 way of life? We donât have to poke around too much in this regard before we begin to sense that something is not quite right.
An Absence of Noticing
When things go unnoticed for too long, bad things begin to happen. A leaky roof turn into a major repair of an entire wall; unattended weeds eventually squelch the growth of the vegetables; a ânot that big-a-dealâ lump over time becomes cancerous; an undisciplined child later in life lacks a healthy sense of boundary and hurts others; another great work opportunity equates to high blood pressure and joyless life; one more late-night meeting away bears the fruit of a distant spouse. Time has a way of forcing things to get the attention they need. Many in our culture have lived with a deep sense of unnoticedness for too long. And it is time for us to take notice.
Jesus tells a story of a person who was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. Along the way the person gets attacked, brutally beaten, robbed and left on the side of the road to die. Three people traveling the same road come across this dying man. The first two, as Jesus tells it, are ostensibly good, righteous people in their community who, when seeing the man, âpass by on the other side.â But the third person, a Samaritan, a hated outsider in that neck of woods, sees the man on the side of the road, feels compassion for him, reaches out and rescues him, providing all that he needs and more (Lk 10:29-37).
It is a most familiar story of neighborliness. Three portraits or pictures emerge in the story: a portrait of need (on the side of the road), a portrait of avoidance (passing by on the other side) and a portrait of compassion (the Samaritanâs kindness). And these three pictures can certainly take us in many good and fruitful directions. In particular, they challenge us to personally identify with the thrust of Jesusâ story within our set of circumstances, people and places. We must ask ourselves: Where are our roads from Jerusalem to Jericho today? Are we noticing those in our setting? How do we pass by on the other side when we encounter such need?
In the New York Times bestseller Tuesdays with Morrie, journalist Mitch Albom tells us of a special person, his mentor and favorite college professor, Morrie Schwartz. The book recounts the final year of Professor Schwartzâs life, as he shares himself with Mitch, a former student and now Detroit sports journalist. Mitchâs reflections upon Morrieâs life, influence and death have been, for many, a simple reminder of the profound influence one person can have on another. Among all the stories of this enchanting man there is one in particular that lingers. Mitch writes:
The Morrie I knew . . . would not have been the man he was without the years he spent working at a mental hospital just outside Washington, D.C. . . . Morrie was given a grant to observe mental patients and record their treatments. While the idea seems common today, it was groundbreaking in the early fifties. Morrie saw patients who would scream all day. Patients who would cry all night. Patients soiling their underwear. Patients refusing to eat, having to be held down, medicated, fed intravenously.
One of the patients, a middle-aged woman, came out of her room every day and lay facedown on the tile floor, stayed there for hours, as doctors and nurses stepped around her. Morrie watched in horror. He took notes, which is what he was there to do. Every day, she did the same thing: came out in the morning, lay on the floor, stayed there until the evening, talking to no one, ignored by everyone. It saddened Morrie. He began to sit on the floor with her, even lay down alongside her, trying to draw her out of her misery. Eventually, he got her to sit up, and even to return to her room. What she mostly wanted, he learned, was the same thing many people wantâsomeone to notice she was there.[2]
Mitchâs recollection of Morrieâs kind response to this suffering woman paints a powerful and resonating picture. There are a tremendous amount of people today who on the outside appear fine, but whose inner suffering is reminiscent of this womanâs experience: What she mostly wanted was the same thing many people wantâsomeone to notice she was there. Whether sitting across the table from a lonely and confused high school student, or a midcareer professional who has just been laid off, or a pastor who has been serving faithfully for years but wonders if anyone sees his need, one so often hears âbetween the linesâ a deep and painful sense of unnoticedness.
Psychologists tell us that much pathology and mental disease result from the experience of being unnoticed, especially early in life. Our communities, in their many forms, somehow do not notice and care for the person in the way he or she is designed to be noticed. Consequently, early on, people internalize the pain of this unnoticedness. Over time they learn to compensate for this pain in many different ways. Some become high achievers. Others become very skilled at entertaining or pleasing others. Some withdraw. Others addictively attach themselves to someone else. All of them ache for someone or something that will address their deep sense of unnoticedness. We have to wonder, as we sit in church or a coffee shop or as we walk through the supermarket, how many of the people around us feel isolated and overlooked? That is, inwardly, do they seemingly lie facedown on the tile for hours ignored by everyone? Are they longing for someone to pay attention in simple and very human ways?
As we notice our own world, we see a collective overlooking that runs rampant through society. So much of our contemporary life involves the experience of being the stranger, and this is sadly even the case in our Christian communities. We have been going to malls and hospitals and universities and airports and sporting events and even churches where the vast majority of the people we are surrounded byâwe do not know. Anonymity characterizes so many of our social interactions. And these impersonal dynamics perpetuate and even aggravate the already internalized unnoticedness of so much of our lives.
Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, âDo small things with great love,â and it seems that what is needed today is this sort of challenge, resonating through our many daily interactions, everyday conversations and community life. Who are the people we are already surrounded by, the men and women on the edges of our attention, with whom God might be inviting us to walk more closely? Perhaps they are in our neighborhoods; perhaps they sit next to us in Sunday morning worship or report to us in our mission. Amid our fast-paced and independent lives, many are beginning to wonder why things are as they are and hope for a better wayâa way that imitates the Samaritanâs mercy and courage (Lk 10:30-37) by intentionally slowing down and walking compassionately with others.
Jesusâ way of noticing the other, not from behind a pulpit, lectern or computer screen, but up close and personal, confronts how we so often go about doing what we do for God. Although Jesus had a lot to accomplish in his rather short time on earth, his approach was unhurried and compassionateâinviting people, often one at a time, to sink more deeply into the truth of their lives. Sharon Daloz Parks tells us that this sort of attentiveness requires âa seeing heart.â She elaborates, âPaying attention, as the phrase suggests, requires an active investment of selfâand a certain vulnerability to the phenomenon at hand. It asks us simultaneously to be awake, to be present, to observe, to see, to listen, to hear, and to feel.â[3]
If we are concerned with the leadership formation of others, and if we desire to imitate Jesusâ way, then we must pay attention with a seeing heart to those around us. But this sort of seeing and noticing with compassion is not easily cultivated in todayâs world. There are cultural conditions that frustrate such an investment in and attentiveness to the other. Four conditions in particular are worth mentioning. Each of these reflects a different aspect of what we find normal today. And it is this ânormalâ that must be resisted if we are to live and serve and develop others in Jesusâ name.
Condition 1: Skimming the surface. In September 1999 we were invited by James Houston to attend the International Consultation on Discipleship in Eastbourne, England. The conference addressed the question of how the global church is doing in its discipleship efforts. John Stott was the keynote speaker for the conference. He began his address by sharing a startling thought from his friend J. I. Packer, whose concern for the church, particularly in the West, was that it seemed to be suffering from a â1000 miles wide but a ½ inch deepâ syndrome. As he continued his talk, Stott echoed his friendâs concern.
I wonder how you would sum up the Christian situation in the world today. For me, itâs a strange, rather tragic, and disturbing paradox. On the one hand, in many parts of the world the church is growing by leaps and bounds. But on the other hand, throughout the church, superficiality is everywhere. Thatâs the pa...