I have three kids. And I knew when I made the choice to follow into the vocation of religious, spiritual, and moral leadership that there were some stereotypes of the children who hold such a role in society. Children of clergy are often called "PK’s” for short, and with that term comes a host of assumptions about how these kids act out or become poor influences on others. I knew of this stereotype before going into my profession, but still I had hopes that my family’s fate would not go the way of the stereotype—the jury is still out on all that. Lord, give me peace!
This morning I listened to Malcolm Gladwell’s first podcast episode for season 11 of Revisionist History. The Episode in question is called “Hitler’s Olympics Part 1: The Blue-Eyed Tornado.” In the very interesting episode, Gladwell features content about American Journalist who saw who Hitler was before anyone else did. Her name is Dorothy Thompson. Apparently, she is quite the character, and one I will look into much more in the near future. The part of her bio that I found interesting for my purposes here is that she was the daughter of a minister, and a supposedly bad minister at that. Gladwell and his guest reflect on what such an upbringing would mean for a kid. They imagine it strange to be a child of a person who stands before people to proclaim things of divinity, meaning, and ethics. They are not wrong, this is strange, indeed. But, further, it must be strange to watch your own father do this sort of thing and then see him at home mowing the lawn, brushing his teeth, and wearing sweat pants. To do so would be like seeing behind the curtain, as Dorothy saw the Wizard of Oz. The implication, I think, is that there might be two realities of the one father: a public persona of holiness and insight and a private persona filled with quotidian idiosyncrasies and maybe even some inconsistencies.
Maybe this is true. This might be a reason that children of public proclaimers of morality, spirituality, and the transcendent sometimes reject their parents values, traditions, and beliefs, or maybe that is why they rebel. It sounds like a good theory to me, at least in part. But, I find the dual nature of this supposed preacher to be problematic. Certainly, it is a time when people are begging for authenticity. Culturally, people yearn for vulnerability, and openness. It is no longer in vogue to present as the “strong man” of history who has none of the problems of ordinary people. It seems that people want to know that their leaders, teachers, directors, clergy, etc. have similar struggles, or that they have at least encountered common trials that most people face.
Yet, when I look out at the world of spiritual leaders and civic leaders alike, I still see strong appeals to authority, power, and strength. Authority matters, but where does it come from? Does it come from speaking strongly, simply, and with clarity? Does authority come from moral superiority or a place of ideology? Or does it come from an authentic, genuine, engagement between a leader and a people? In my experience it makes sense to honestly share the truth of your journey with an audience. But it also helps to be real about how much you are uncertain about a direction or how to understand an issue. People want to follow someone who is real, yet has the courage to keep going. People will tend to listen to someone that is learning with them; and they will do so much more than they will follow someone who is unmovable, because the truth is that all of us change and we want to know that those who teach, share, and lead us change too. It is relatable, and in the relating comes the authority, which is not a top down power display, but an organic invitation to influence.