"Irrational
Executives: Analysts Offer A New View," is the title of an article by Daniel
Goleman in Tuesday's NEW YORK TIMES. He reports the destructiveness resulting
from often unrecognized executive irrationalities. One type he mentions is the
"Jungle fighter," who lusts for power and glory, desires to subjugate or
destroy others, and is greedy for personal gain; he dominates, scares, or
intimidates subordinates and pushes programs through quickly; he surrounds
himself with flurries of activity in a highly charged atmosphere, but very
little of real substance goes on; his aim is to impress, not to accomplish. Dr.
Goleman also discusses "schizoid," "obsessive, " and "narcissistic" types and
the toll their management styles take on their subordinates and
colleagues.
From another
Daniel, you and I heard a few moments ago about King Nebuchadnezzar's predicted
madness; like many ancient monarchs, Nebuchadnezzar imagined he ruled the whole
earth. Arrogant self-sufficiency led them to dominate others with an imagined
God-given right. Daniel interpreted the King's dream with the warning that God
can bring the proudest monarch low; that only God the Most High rules humanity
and invests His Rule where he wills.
Well-developed
irrational traits can be found among many ancient and modern leaders. Perhaps
you know of a college president or dean or professor not unlike the "jungle
fighter." Maybe you have met a schizoid bishop, priest or deacon who, in
Goleman's words, is "emotionally isolated, unable to tune in to the feelings of
those who work for him, (whose) subordinates perceive him as distant and aloof,
(who) in effect, gives his subordinates the sense that there is no one to meet
their needs for support, warmth, and understanding, and that each person is on
his own," all of which "leaves people feeling isolated and alone." Or, you may
have encountered an obsessive parent, who "gives fine attention to detail that
creates orderliness, precision and clarity in decision-making," but whose
"mechanical rule-following stifles creativity and is likely to be too
inflexible." Such a mother or father forces their children either into
submissive conformity or liberating exile! Perhaps you have known a
narcissistic performer whose "excessive self-reference and self-centeredness,
whose grandiosity and overvaluation of themselves exists together with feelings
of inferiority, who are overdependent on external admiration, emotionally
shallow, intensely envious, and .... exploitive in their relationships with
others." How pitiful and destructive is the craziness that blossoms in many of
us when we assume leadership roles, whether from a throne or an office, in a
classroom or a home, on stage or at the altar!
As you and I
chuckle to ourselves about people we know who fit these characteristics, may we
not fail to recognize some traces of these qualities in ourselves. We need not
be surprised by such irrationalities or hints of them in ourselves and others;
we are nurtured toward them from childhood.
Consider this:
with the general busyness in most families today, many babies are shown
affection primarily when they have performed something at the so-called "right"
time, perhaps when they have taken care of bodily needs conveniently for
adults. Within a matter of months, they crawl or walk, to the "Oohs" and "Ahs"
of adults. Later, in school, children learn to perform in the classroom, on the
playground, and at other activities. They learn their lesson well: in order to
feel worthwhile and to be valued, they must excel at something- something that
will provide a sense of purpose, something that will give to each a sense of
who they are.
This performance
style is nurtured repeatedly as we insultingly ask young people, "What do you
want to be when you grow up?" A horrible question! It implies that the
youngster is nothing now; it suggests - that an individual is a nobody until
one performs at a job - preferably one that has financial and social
status.
In adult life,
what happens to you and me at social or job-related gatherings? How are we
introduced? I have had the experience of being introduced as "Dick Nolan,"
period, with a resulting attitude, "Is that all?" Most people want to know what
I do, so that they can determine how to relate to me. When that information is
forthcoming, I have more than once been snubbed, even at church-related
functions, by those who conclude that I'm nobody important, clearly no one
worth talking to or being seen with.
Another source for
conditioning our identities is the general belief that human nature is
essentially negative. Think for a moment of three vulgar words used by, I
assume, non-Episcopalians! I suspect that not less than two of the three are
somehow linked with our bodies; we derive our vulgarities from part of human
nature. Why are we apt to say of a person involved in a morally tragic event,
"Well, what do you expect; that's human nature!" We don't think very highly of
our selves, our souls, and our bodies.
Is it true that
you and I are worthless nobodies unless we perform acceptably? Am I simply the
sum total of my activities? Am I as a human being fundamentally evil?
Nurtured with a
dismal view of human nature and that who we are depends on what we do, we are
unknowing victims of promisers of salvation who encourage us to be redeemed at
any cost by the right job, the right address, the right clothes and cosmetics,
the right etiquette, the right leisure activates, and even the right friends.
Striving for absolute Rule, driven to seek self-esteem and external
affirmation, which always seem to be just beyond our grasps, we learn to be
jungle fighters, schizoids, obsessives, and narcissists, some at an irrational
level, others with traits here and there. You and I along with deluded ancient
monarchs, past and present leaders making war, and irrational executives are
prepared subtly for who we become!
How sad it was
about 21 years ago when I overheard a visitor to this Cathedral say to a
companion as the 3:30 organ recital was concluding, "Let's go now; the recital
is all that's worth coming here for." They missed what is offered here and at
every liturgical gathering of Christians; they missed an occasion to
participate in the alternative to entombment in irrationalities; they missed
hearing the alternative to the darkness of shallow identities; they left
without celebrating the alternative to the gloom of strained and broken
relationships. They missed an opportunity to become a bit more the person God
intends each of us to be: a unique child of God. Where else is such nurture
offered?
Through baptism,
we accept our identity as sons and daughters of God; within the community at
worship, we are strengthened in our common identity. No matter how bad the
sermon is, regardless of any other inadequacies, each occasion of Christian
worship can be an event of Grace. Over and over again we need to listen, to be
quiet, to speak, and to receive God's Spirit; otherwise, we will lose any
effective sense of Who best rules humanity, of who we are, and some degree of
craziness will intrude... bringing us low.
Far from basking
passively in an idea of our identity as unique children of God, the reality of
who we are is lived; flowing from each Christian man and woman is an imperfect
offering of active love. If we will open our eyes, we will see signs of this
love: in the breaking of bread, in the arts, in church buildings large and
small, in transformed lives, in friendships, and in good works.
It would be
simplistic to imply that life becomes entirely clear, bright, and painless when
one's Christian identity becomes central in one's life. However, I believe
firmly that, as constantly renewed children of God, we do experience a
steadying purpose and worth; this graceful reality in our hearts and minds
virtually eliminates the needs that create jungle fighters and the like.
Affection is shown to the baby just because he is; we regard each other equally
as the children of God we are; our jobs and other performances, though
significant, are not the sources of our identity, purpose, and worth.
Think, feel for a
moment! By the Grace of our common Baptism, by being branches of the vine, you
and I now gathered in this cathedral church for worship of the Creator of the
Universe, are children of God; we are worthwhile; no further justification is
needed. Whatever changes occur in our lives, whatever the tasks and hurts that
are ahead, our vocation to be lovers, so well expressed in John's writings,
remains permanent.
Various analysts
describe well certain human irrationalities, and their therapies are often
helpful. However, a gracious acceptance of an ever-maturing Christian identity
and vocation is the God-given therapy leading to new beginnings, true reality,
and lasting rationality. For this practical Gospel, thanks be to God!