Column Chicago Bulls head pastor, Phil Jackson
By TIM UNSWORTH
I try to be trendy. Recently, I
persuaded a flexible priest to rebaptize me with imported bottled water. I've
lost 10 pounds on a horseradish diet. Even as I write, I am listening to a CD
of Music from the Paleolithic Age, played on original rocks, accompanied by the
Titular Bishops' Curial Choir.
In that spirit, I have searched for the ideal pastor and found him
in the world of major league sports.
I'm pleased to announce that my selection for America's best
pastor is Phil Jackson, coach of the Chicago Bulls.
The four-time national championship coach reminds one of Hebrews
11:1: "Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not
seen." Jackson, who often appears to be asleep on the bench, understands the
difference between leadership and authority, between power and influence.
Richard Lacayo, writing in Time magazine, noted that power and
influence are not identical notions. "To hold power," he wrote, "is to have at
your disposal blunt instruments. But without influence, power dies out at the
end of its own channels of command. To have influence is to gain assent, not
just obedience; to attract a following, not just an entourage; to have
imitators, not just subordinates."
Phil Jackson, son of Pentecostal ministers, succeeds because he
enlists the hearts and minds of a wildly disparate group of players (read
parishioners). He doesn't try to keep his parishioners guessing in the
misguided notion that such nonsense is a way to stimulate creativity. He
realizes that no one can create a successful "parish" alone, no matter how
gifted he is.
According to Jackson, many coaches are "controloholics." For these
people, everything must flow from the top.
Bishops afflicted with this syndrome write letters to priests
decreeing that, upon a bishop's arrival for confirmation, priests must vest in
a separate room. Pastors give lengthy directions on the proper administration
of the Eucharist by intinction or on how high the processional cross should be
held.
Jackson is different. He not only positions the spokes of his game
plan, he pays attention to the spaces between the spokes, just the way great
composers are mindful of the silence between notes. He understands that no
vision can become a reality until it is owned by every member of the group.
"Being aware is more important than being smart," he wrote in his
1995 book Sacred Hoops: Spiritual Lessons of a Hardwood Warrior
(Hyperion, New York, $22.95). He gives his players freedom to discover what
works and what doesn't, to think more for themselves.
Citing Carlos Castaneda's The Teaching of Don Juan, he
instructs his players to look at everything closely and deliberately. "Try it
as many times as you think necessary," Castaneda says. "Then ask yourself:
'Does this path have a heart?' If it does, the path is good. If it doesn't, it
is of no use."
The advice reminded me of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin's last homily
to his priests, delivered by Bernadin's delegate after his death. "People look
to priests to be authentic witnesses to God's active role in the world. They
don't want us to be politicians or business managers. They are not interested
in the petty conflicts that may show up in parish life. They want us to bring
Jesus to them."
Jackson is a Zen Christian. He uses such Zen-like words as
"interconnectedness" and "mindfulness." He urges his charges to pay attention
to what is actually happening, to become more attuned to each other. The
obvious joy his players experience becomes a powerful motivating force, a
feeling that comes from deep within, not from some frenzied coach pacing along
the sidelines.
Much of what passes for leadership is a kind of social engineering
that dictates every move and motivational technique, but does nothing to move
the heart. After encountering one's pastor, one should always understand a
little more about why one is alive.
Jesuit Fr. Richard A. McCormick, professor of Christian ethics at
the University of Notre Dame, writing in America, reflects on the recent
restorationist trend in the church that supplies bishops who have authority and
yet do not exercise true leadership. McCormick points out that the criteria for
episcopal appointments is so tightly structured that it may exclude many of the
most eligible and influential pastoral leaders.
"We see bishops not maximizing the apostolic effectiveness of
their priests but controlling them," he writes. "We see priests controlling,
not releasing their congregations. We see theologians controlling those
dependent on their expertise, not aiding them." In McCormick's view, what
emerges from this authoritarian pile is a species of authority that has ceased
to struggle to become leadership.
According to Jackson, the most efficient way to forge a winning
team is "to call on the players' (read parishioners') need to connect with
something larger than themselves." He enlists their hearts through inclusion
and participation, not decrees.
Not long ago, Jackson spoke at Old St. Patrick's Church in
Chicago's loop. The crowd was so large that they had to move into the upstairs
church where the coach, who stands 6' 8" and gets about on a motorcycle, used
the pulpit. He told the crowd of the power of prayer and the fact that his team
won the NBA title because they had formed a community and had surrendered the
"me" for the "we."
"Find a structure that would empower everybody," he said, "not
just the stars. And allow the players to grow as individuals as they surrender
themselves to the group effort."
"I was far more effective when I balanced the masculine and
feminine side of my nature," he wrote in his book. He added that one of the
most important qualities of a leader is listening without judgment: "When I
back off and just listen, I get much better results on the court."
If the liberating mentality of mindfulness and interconnectedness
continues to infuse us as Christians, then, in Fr. McCormick's words, "we will
begin to experience their delightful results.
"We will know security amid confusion, peace amid disagreement,
unity amid pluralism, freedom amid regulation and law, loyalty amid dissent --
briefly, hope in a broken world.
"True leadership, if it would build on the example of Christ, does
not control," McCormick concludes. "It liberates."
It's likely that the Bulls will be National champions for the
fifth time. Watch them play. Study Pastor Jackson. He will free you up to lead
others -- and control yourself.
Tim Unsworth lives in Chicago. His book I Am Your Brother
Joseph: Cardinal Bernardin of Chicago (Crossroad) will be released in late
January.
National Catholic Reporter, January 24,
1997
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