One February I had an idea. Wouldn’t it be great to ask four of our elders and their wives to come to youth group on Wednesday night to be interviewed about their relationships by our students? In my mind, this was an incredible way to help our students get to know their elders. Likewise, my hope was that, as these elders shared about their decades-long marriages, my students would be encouraged that they too could have healthy, happy, and simple adult relationships like the men who lead our church.
Four weeks later I questioned my own wisdom. One by one, the students grilled these couples. None of them waited until they were married to have sex. Three out of four of them married someone their parents disapproved of. All of them seriously considered divorce. All had deep regrets.
On one hand, it was an opportunity for me to teach that God isn’t interested in perfect people leading his church. On the other hand, many of my students walked away from those interviews with a new level of permission for their sexual promiscuity.
It was the opposite outcome from what I’d hoped.
I believe the primary task of a leader is to take people where they would otherwise not go themselves. George Patton wasn’t a great leader because he was brilliant at giving speeches to Congress about the nature of war. He was a powerful leader because his aggressive positioning of tanks worked. Likewise, Martin Luther King, Jr. wasn’t a great leader merely because he was a powerful orator. He backed his words up with actions and led people where they were too afraid to go themselves.
The question for Patton or King was not, Am I afraid? Certainly, they had fear. But they recognized that their fear was not going to lead people to where they needed to go.
So they faked it. They recognized that standing before their people and blabbering about their fears and the hardships they might face was not going to lead their people somewhere. Instead, they led people toward something that seemed impossible: victory over insurmountable, impossibly defensed enemies.
As I teach the Bible to my students, I recognize that it’s important to be authentic. But I also recognize that in my attempts to be transparent, I may overshadow the portrait of what God can do with what I’ve been unable to do.
You see, sometimes the most authentic thing you can do is fake it.
Our task as leaders is not to treat the teaching platform as the couch of a daytime television show. It’s to communicate biblical truth to adolescents. Sometimes, in order to lead them where they can’t go on their own, you have to put on your unscared, tough-guy face and show them how brave you can be.
The opposite of authentic is not fake. The opposite of authentic is untrustworthy.
Today’s students have lives filled with people who have contractual obligations to invest in them. They aren’t asking, Is this person willing to talk about their worst sexual encounter before a room full of teenagers for a dollar? They are asking, Can I trust this person? And, Is the Jesus this person represents worth following, even if it’s scary and leads me somewhere that costs me my life?
If that’s the question, then forget being authentic. I want to be fake all day.
Saint Francis of Assisi is often credited with the saying, Preach the gospel at all times; if necessary, use words. As Christians, we probably cannot really be too vulnerable or even over share—except when we begin to unnecessarily speak aloud.
My mother is not an overly emotional person, yet there is one rare moment when I know she will likely quietly shed a tear or two. When we gather as a family and sit together at church,
she will likely inaudibly weep in thanksgiving that we are together and that others are missed. As my children now become adults, I find myself experiencing the same. No words are needed, just the openness of tears shared.
We all understand the power of being present when we witness a birth, baptism, or wedding and sharing in the joy. The same power is there in moments of loss and grief. It is even there when we accompany others in a shared experience at a work camp, conference, or just a cup of coffee. No words needed, just the sharing in being present.
And yet, sometimes, we choose to use words. So how do we determine that very thin line between vulnerability and over sharing?
Consider the Latin adage Cui Bono? It translates as, To whose benefit? In investigating a crime, it is usually more expedient to investigate those suspects who have something to gain.
Often, what trips us over the line from vulnerability and into the hazards of over- sharing is when we find ourselves the benefactors. In the Strength Finders assessment, one of the identified talents is that of Significance. People strong in the Significance theme want to be very important in the eyes of others. They are independent and want to be recognized.
In the Catholic church, our National Directory for Catechesis (faith formation) helps us discern what constitutes an authentic presentation of the Christian message. It establishes a “hierarchy of truth,” which first and foremost asks if the message “centers of Jesus Christ.” It also places a prominence on “proclaiming the good news of salvation.”
When we as spiritual leaders (and there is no denying that is how others perceive us, even if we fail to see it in ourselves) preach the gospel (which we are doing at all times—again, even if we fail to see it in ourselves) and choose to use words, I wonder, Who benefits? Does your witness make you seem like a likeable, real person, or does it empower me with my own story of challenges and faith? Does your story set yourself up, or did you call attention to the One who is Good News, even in hard time?
If you are my spiritual leader, I’m not sure that I ever need to hear about your alcoholism, your academic degrees, or even your smokin’ hot spouse, unless it somehow points me toward my own relationship with the Lord.
I wish I could share one universal standard for when vulnerability crosses the line and enters the category of over sharing. I honestly believe that this varies according to the relationship, the situation, and the context. In many ways, vocational ministry is a relationship-based occupation.
More specifically, youth ministry thrives on the relationships between the youth and the adult leaders. The call to vocational ministry as a pastor requires constant discernment in all arenas of life, especially when navigating relationships with those you lead. However, the cornerstone of every relationship, no matter the situation or the context, is trust.
Part of relationship building is creating trust through authentic presence. That presence is most commonly communicated through quality time in conversation where both parties are, in some capacity, vulnerable. This happens most often by reciprocating that which the other chooses to share.
For example, one of your youth comes to you and says, “I cut. I don’t want to, but I don’t know what to do about it. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop.” It is possible that as a teenager you struggled with self-mutilation and an addiction to cutting. The natural response would be, “When I was your age, I cut too. I understand some of what you’re feeling.” Or maybe you struggled with an eating disorder, a pornography addiction, attempted suicide, etc. It takes a certain level of vulnerability to share that information. Responding with something of equal personal value reciprocates the relational investment and builds trust.
In leadership, vulnerability may not simply be a reciprocal response. At times, you will feel led to share your struggles with your youth. That is a step of faith you must discern. Your youth may need to know that you’ve been where they are in order for them to trust you with their struggles. In this situation, vulnerability may feel like you are over sharing. Trust and discern.
The place I often struggle to discern the appropriateness of what I desire to share is when I’m responding to a question. Youth have a tendency, when they trust you as a leader, to ask questions where your first response is difficult to even think about saying aloud. The truth may be that the same issues they’re sharing with you through the question are issues that you’re still struggling to resolve. Since the cornerstone of every relationship is trust, the only option in those situations is to embrace and engage vulnerability. Carefully choose how you share that you are still struggling with the same issue because, in this situation, the truth that builds trust may compromise your leadership. Generally, when posed with a question, respond honestly.
The one constant in every relationship, context, and situation is truth telling. If you’re gossiping, you’re lying. If you’re lying, you’re over sharing. Don’t lie. It will only ever break the trust and damage the relationship, compromising the effectiveness of your leadership.
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