How are we to lead in exile?   What qualities lend themselves to the formation of an alternative worldview, not dependent upon the dominant social, cultural and political values? What roles, in particular, might assist us in the equipping of not only our congregations, but also our communities in response to the call to cross over into a new way of being? What is needed to help our communities move from a state of exile to a shared experience of Shalom?

Two competencies, in particular, lend themselves to leading in times of exile: that of Poet and Prophet. In a time, when many voices speak on a superficial level, we need the poet to help articulate the pain and questioning born of our state of alienation and dislocation. Missiologist Alan Roxburgh describes poets as:

The articulators of experience and the rememberers of tradition. They image and symbolize the unarticulated experience of the community, identifying and expressing the soul of the people. The poet is a listener and an observer, sensing the experience of the body and giving that experience a voice.[1] 

Many voices compete for our allegiance. The poet helps us to remember who we are that we might reclaim the integrity of core identity and character. Beyond the quick fix, beyond the individualization of our times, beyond the loss and pain born of deep change, the poet helps to draw people into hope for the future. Through image and story, the poet shapes meaning out of chaos that memories might be shared and new visions emerge. The poet weaves together the disparate (and often, dissonant) voices into a rich tapestry of story and meaning that neither reduces, nor eliminates creative tensions, but rather nurtures exploration of new collective possibilities.

The word of the poet is heard because the poet is not didactic. The poet neither scolds, nor sells; rather the poet invites the community to imagine together another way of being. Through words, the poet intuits a way forward that permits relinquishment of old ways of being, thereby creating movement beyond the present crisis of identity to fresh forms of community. These possibilities allow the community to shift from a focus on deficiencies, individual interests, and entitlement to a focus on possibility, strength, and generosity of spirit. But, as Roxburgh points out, "Without the prophetic voice, poetic leadership is little more than adaptation and consolation."[2] 

The prophetic challenge of the leader becomes the means by which the community crosses over into a new understanding of role and responsibility in seeking the Shalom of "the cities" to which we have been sent into exile. Pain has the potential to open the door to deep, kenotic change. Kenotic change, the emptying of real and perceived rights and prerogatives that we might embody Shalom, requires attentiveness to both the guilt and the yearning that stirs in our souls. The prophetic voice is the voice of truth. As both individual and collective whole come to claim the truth about their present state of being, they are thus invited into a paradoxical experience of loss and hope.   Seeking Shalom involves a delicate dance of repentance as the community acknowledges their state of brokenness and delight as they yield to the possibilities born of an alternative vision.

It is important to note that the truth, which the prophetic voice speaks into the life of the community, is not an ephemeral ideal or abstract concept, but rather an embodied reality. This reality is tested and refined in the context of relationship. Truth is made real as the community comes to experience the Shalom of body, mind, spirit, and emotion. The leader as prophet names dehumanizing policies and structures, as well as introducing new practices that nurture community.   These practices help the community to surrender old ways of being, thereby allowing the new to emerge.

The prophetic voice of the leader thereby empowers the community to reside in the liminality of this time. Instead of avoiding or minimizing differences, the leader as prophet helps the community to claim the gift of conflict. Deep, adaptive change will not come apart from challenge: of our structures, of our processes, of our very understanding of community. Beyond the individualism which seeks to care for "self" apart from the "whole" of the community, Shalom calls us to realize our inter-dependence upon one another. The leader as prophet refocuses the conversation from that which is unsustainable to finding new solutions to the environmental, social and economic challenges we face.

Taken together, the leader as poet and prophet transforms pain into hope, thus inviting previously unimaginable levels of engagement in shaping a new reality. The leader as poet and prophet invites the community into a place where deep change can take place, not for the sake of change, but that the freedom, energy, and courage of an alternative identity might be formed for "the Shalom of the city."

So... are you ready to nurture the voice of the poet and prophet within you?

Debbie Rundlett, general presbyter
Deborah@MVPJourney.org