What Your Mask Behavior Might Reveal About Your Leadership

The mask has become a symbol. They can be a symbol of your support of the president. They can be a symbol of your distrust of the “deep state”. They can be a symbol of freedom being infringed. They can be a symbol of the dumbing of America (those with masks are “sheeple”) or the proof of a conspiracy that Lizard people cooked up a virus then fabricated the story. Personally, I struggle to see how Christians would find wearing a mask is asking too much or demanding something irrational. Christians have preached for a long time about a God man who said that we should take up the cross for the sake of a Gospel that is irrational (grace is always irrational).

However, you “feel” about masks I have seen three practices of mask wearing that seem to reflect three different leadership styles. I call them the Imperatives, the Imperials, and the Invitationals.

The Imperatives are those you see who wear the mask because that is the law or the rule or the expectation. They are the people who follow the rules and they are the ones who generally display pro-social behaviors. They don’t even talk much about their masks because it would be as pointless as talking about why you stop at a red light. But if they do they might say, “You should wear your mask.” The danger with the Imperatives is self-righteousness can creep in and can be easily justifiable because they are following the mask rule and everyone else should be as well. Of course they do not have to follow the rule themselves, but they do because it is the right thing to do. I am an Imperative leader. I follow the rules and when I fail to do so I feel awful. I want to do better and I want to ensure that I am doing my part. I kick myself when I fail and I also can be very self-righteous in my rule following skills.

The Imperials are the mask wearers who come into the presence of another and then say, “You can take that mask off around me.” These folk talk about masks like they are dumb or that the rules do not apply to them. More to the point the Imperials are those who want to tell you how to live the rule out. Unlike the Imperatives (above) the Imperials say the quite part out loud. If the Imperatives have an inflated sense of righteousness because they follow the rules, the Imperials have an inflated sense of righteousness for bucking the rules. These leaders like that there are rules for others to follow, but are less inclined to follow the rules themselves because they know better. I am an imperial leader. I like to tell people what to do and boss them around so that I am in control of situations that I have little control over. I roll my eyes at someone following a rule that I consider dumb and I wonder why some rules even exist to begin with. I know better than other leaders - especially leaders that follow the rules.

The Invitationals are the people who may or may not want to wear a mask but will ask if it okay with you if they take their own mask off. These folk are the people who may really desire that everyone wear a mask or they might be people who just follow the rules to comply, but they still find it important to ask the others around them if it is okay to remove their mask. They are mindful that permission seeking and consent are key ingredients to relationship building and fostering. They are mindful of the interconnectivity of all things and that everyone’s actions impact everyone else. They hold their position lightly while also making their preferences known. They try to protect the agency of the other, giving them a say in the decisions. Perhaps more than other postures, the invitationals are relationally aware of who to ask and when to ask. They make notes of people who would not be comfortable to remove masks and they would not ask them to do something that is outside the others desires.

Like any generalization, the way that one wears their mask is not prescriptive of every action of their leadership style. And yet, in my small sample size of interactions, there is a bit of truth in these behaviors. It is notable that I find that I am repulsed by the Imperials, as they are repulsed by others. Ironically, I judge the Imperatives as being too judgmental. Perhaps most appropriately, I am drawn to the invitational leaders as they make space for others to be drawn into.

The Insufficiency of Loving People in Ministry

It is a common thing to imagine that people go into ministry because they love people. I had a number of experiences with a variety of people in my life that led me to see the beauty of the human race. I love how creative people are. I love how people are able to create rules for society, and I am amazed how people skate right on the edge of such rules. I am humbled by the mystery and singular universe that is a human being. I really do love people.

This love for people is a common driver for people going into the helping professions. And while I cannot speak for other professions, I can address that many clergy go into the ministry because they love human beings. It is a noble and admirable reason to go into vocational ministry. However, it is also insufficient for ministry.

If pastors only loved people then there would be a shortage of clergy. The pay and benefits are not always great. The work is taxing. The emotional roller coaster that is being a pastor is relentless. Plus many pastors have as many bosses as they have people who attend the church. Loving people is a prerequisite for ministry, but it will not sustain you in ministry. Loving people is difficult to do. People are flawed and will fail you. People will bring to surface the best and the worst of life. People annoy and delight, stress and support. People are a mix of sinner and saint and sometimes a little cussing and coffee.

Loving people will is good but insufficient because no one can love people all of the time. However, if you go into ministry knowing that Jesus loves you, then you may come to find the source of strength to endure the best and worst of humanity. Just because it is a cliché does not make it any less true.

There are a lot of clergy that love people and knows that Christ loves them. However the clergy that I admire are the clergy that discover a third love, and that is the love that transforms a job into a calling. This is the love that the clergy person has for the Christ that lives in another person. The most faithful clergy I know love you and the Christ that lives in you. The most faithful clergy I know serve the Christ that lives in you so that even if you are a real jerk, their loving kindness does not cease.

Learning to love the Christ that is in the other requires that we come to see that Christ lives in each other - even the enemy, the other, the Democrat, the Republican, etc. Which brings us back to Kierkegaard’s idea that the ideal neighbor to love is a dead one.

The Tea Kettle of Liturgy

Regardless of what sort of spirituality you practice, there is a liturgy to the practice. The liturgy is a structure that the acts of the practice follow. These are easy to see in a worship service, but it is not limited to worship events. When a professional sports event begins, there is a civic liturgy that we follow. When there is a wedding there is a reception liturgy. Birthdays, start of school days, family gatherings have their own liturgies.

What is the point of liturgy? How do we know if it is “good” liturgy? Beyond the content of the worship the liturgy (the structure and order of things) serves a different function, but what is that function? I would submit that the function of liturgy is to be like a tea kettle and what makes for a good tea kettle is being able to hold the dynamic boiling water.

When people gather for worship, there are so many emotions, anxieties, celebrations, hopes and fears. The gathered body is dynamic and full of energy. This energy is neutral, but we all know that energy does not stay neutral for very long. We see an energetic group can turn into a mob and do great harm rather quickly. We also can see an energetic group to rally for a pro-social cause and build a house in 24 hours. It is the function of the liturgy to properly hold the energy of the collective body.

Like a kettle, the liturgy must be stronger than the energy of the contents. The liturgy must be able to stand through different temperatures and not shatter. It must be directional enough to channel the energy well and, if possible, be built to help the energy sing. It needs to be able to have the endurance as the energy dissipates and cools off. It consistent in its ability so that when it is time to gather the energy again, people can be confident that the energy can be properly held.

The water in the kettle does now “know” what it will become. But the water in the kettle always becomes more than it can imagine. Will it become the foundation for life-giving tea? The warmth to the cold heart? The agent to help purify or clean a wound? Liturgy does not squelch the energy of the gathered body but helps the body transform into something they could not imagine before they gathered. Something transcendent, something greater than the sum of their parts.

The worship liturgy is not there to resolve the anxiety, tension, fear or excitement of the body. The liturgy is the container that holds all of that. Too often church leaders use the liturgy to resolve the this anxiety. The liturgy is not a cure or a resolution. Liturgy is a kettle, and let us not be lukewarm.