Leaders Build Relationships through Weakness
Knowledge puffs up. It lifts the noses and extends the chests of those who believe they are right in their own eyes. But when the head is lifted high, our eyes are often not looking forward and down to see the obstacle in our path. Suddenly we trip—over our own feet! The obstacle appears to be . . . us.
During my career as a leader in secular higher education, I’ve had the unique opportunity to work in the university setting within institutions that pride themselves on sharing and gaining knowledge in order to better people’s lives. Through the years I have learned, however, that if we want to be leaders who truly connect people to Jesus, humility, not pride, is the key. Vulnerability, rather than intellectual knowledge, is the pathway to building relationships.
Pride Blinds Us to Our Weaknesses
“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather in humility value others above yourselves.”
Philippians 2:3–4 NIV
As an academic administrator, it was part of my responsibilities, but also one of the great privileges, to attend graduation ceremonies. At one university, there was a wonderful tradition in which the dissertation advisor would come up on stage with the graduating doctoral student and place the doctoral hood over the student’s head as the degree was conferred. It was a high-water mark in the student’s life, and a moment accompanied by a sense of almost sacred solemnity.
It never failed to strike me, then, when a faculty advisor would be wearing shorts and sneakers under his academic regalia (rarely ever did the student dress so casually). You could easily see this because academic gowns are typically only mid-calf length. And I would find myself wondering, Don’t you realize that when you walk across that stage with hundreds or even thousands of people watching, your hairy legs and ratty old tennis shoes are right at everyone’s eye level?
We have all seen individuals who seem completely oblivious to their very visible foibles as they posture and position themselves in their organization or community. It is the classic illustration of the distinction between being self-focused versus being self-aware. Unfortunately, those who are the former generally lack the latter. When people put themselves on a pedestal, they proudly, but without awareness, also put their feet of clay on public display.
“When people put themselves on a pedestal, they proudly, but without awareness, also put their feet of clay on public display.”
Many Christians are familiar with Scripture’s frequent admonitions to be humble, yet we all are susceptible to allowing our self-focus to blot out self-awareness. We all have these blind spots, and they generally seem to show up in the areas of our greatest strength.
A colleague once told a story about a faculty meeting in which there was a heated two-and-a-half-hour debate over what color the lines should be in the new parking lot. The point of the story was that people try to influence others from their greatest strength. In this case, the room was full of professors who were all used to being the smartest person in the room, able to out-reason everyone else. The result was a meeting that devolved into an intellectual donnybrook where the singular focus of those engaged in the conflict became being right. As passions aroused and tempers flared, relationships were severed all over a few cans of paint that none of the combatants would ever dip a brush into. Knowledge and self-righteousness bred pride and pride killed the opportunity for positive relationships.
On this side of heaven, all Christians will still struggle with sin and being self-focused instead of focused on God and others. Sometimes we stand proudly on a pedestal, oblivious to the fact that we have put our feet of clay right at eye level for all to see.
It is always true, but particularly in this time of political and social divide, that people who profess Jesus as our Lord and Savior should seek to be acutely aware of the areas in our lives that might draw greater attention to our sin than to Jesus. Paul speaks directly to this in 1 Corinthians 8:9, saying, “But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.” It seems that we, as Christians, can become so intent on having matters our own way that we lose the ability to connect with those to whom we are called to serve. If we truly want to love our neighbors and make disciples, we must keep our eyes ahead, fixing them on Christ, so that we can put to death our pride and cultivate humility.
Humility Opens Our Eyes to Weakness
“And he kissed all his brothers and wept over them. Afterward his brothers talked with him.”
Genesis 45:15
Whereas pride hinders relationships, humility has the self-awareness to acknowledge weakness and vulnerability and leverage them for good.
“Whereas pride hinders relationships, humility has the self-awareness to acknowledge weakness and vulnerability and leverage them for good.”
If you’ve ever had the chance to visit medieval towns and cities, you’ve undoubtedly gone to see the old fortresses. From the perspective of the locals, these city walls provided safety and security from marauding invaders. But to everyone else, to those on the outside, the structure was intentionally designed to be incredibly imposing, difficult to access, and potentially deadly. Whether an invading army or just a weary traveler, every stranger had to weigh the risks and benefits of approaching the fortress. How hard would it be just to get there? Are the residents friendly or dangerous? Weak or strong? What might be gained from going and at what price?
Success and stature are very often like those fortresses; they are a comfort to those who have them and a barrier to those who don’t. We all are impressed by people who have accomplished great things. We applaud Nobel laureates, Olympic gold medalists, and CEOs of global corporations. There is a tremendous market for information about celebrities and their stories, their homes and lifestyles. A big part of their aura is their inaccessibility.
This is not limited to the rich and famous. People in our everyday lives have achieved levels of status, fame, or success and thus seem beyond us. Rightly or wrongly, we decide that they are too busy, too important, or too successful for us to approach. And as odd as it may seem, there’s a really good chance that someone out there sees you as someone beyond his or her reach. Success is not wrong, but if our success causes us to lift our heads or puff out our chests, we draw attention toward ourselves and divert attention away from Christ. Because of our pride, it is all too easy to put on a veneer of being all put together and having our lives in order without realizing that our self-centeredness can be imposing barriers to relationship.
Your next-door neighbor might think, “I can’t be in relationship with you because I’m broken, and you’re not.” The acquaintance who you’ve just run into in the grocery store struggles to hold back tears to the simple question “How are you?” She thinks silently, “You can’t possibly understand me because you don’t share my history, my failings.” The student in your classroom might wonder, “I can never achieve what he has achieved, because I don’t have [fill in the blank].” Just as the outsider in medieval days had to weigh the risks of approaching a fortress, so too does the individual who looks to you.
When someone is looking for relationship, they look for accessibility. And more often than not, that accessibility comes in the form of common life experiences, things such as shared weaknesses, brokenness, and struggles. When we look at the story of Joseph, his reunification with his brothers does not occur until each of them reaches a point of deep vulnerability. In fact, we are told that Joseph “wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard him, and Pharaoh’s household heard about it” (Gen. 45:2). It is when Joseph came down off not just the physical throne, but his emotional and spiritual pedestal as well, that he was able to reconcile the relationship with his brothers. More importantly, it is because God sent his son in the form of a helpless baby in one of the poorest of families in the least of the tribes of Israel, that we can connect with Jesus as our personal Lord and Savior. When we throw our pride into the pit, make ourselves vulnerable, and allow others to connect to our points of weakness, we create incredible opportunities for ministry, leadership, relationship, and love.
Timothy (Tim) Wei is an aerospace engineer by training and motivated by the call in Matthew 25:35–36. He has been a professor, department head, and dean of engineering and currently leads an initiative developing technologies needed to “feed the hungry.” He and his wife, Sally, are active at Capitol City Christian Church in Lincoln, Nebraska. Their two young adult children, Nathan and Carissa, are actively involved in Christian ministry.