There's an art to passing the baton, and accepting it
There is a scene in Remember the Titans (one of, if not tied for the best-all-time football movie with Rudy) where a young man playing for his high school football team in the state championship game, goes to his coach and asks to be replaced. He actually wants his buddy on the bench to take his spot on the field. Unheard of! What kind of athlete asks to sit when there is so much riding on the outcome of that game?

Well, in this case, it was an incredibly bright and selfless young man. He knew he was getting beat. He knew he couldn’t keep up with how fast the game was going. But, he also knew that the fellow behind him had the speed, the agility and the knowledge to get it done. His sub was the best chance his team had for victory so, he went to the coach and asked to be replaced.

Just this morning, I was talking to a dear friend of mine. At one point she was an associate minister on my staff, but now is in some preliminary conversations with another congregation that is seeking to call her to serve as their preacher (which she would do well if she so chooses).

Anyway, we began to talk about the struggles congregations seem to have now with what I call “passing the baton.” You know, the leadership baton. I suppose it is because the baton is blessed with power and authority. Or it could be because it allows one to call a lot of the shots. Or, and I believe this is perhaps the most difficult to get over, could it be the baton represents a time when control seemed in or just about within one’s reach.

Regardless, I have noticed that in my 30-plus years of ministry, the hardest thing for me to do was not the funeral, the handling of a crisis or not even looking down the wrong end of a 12-gauge shotgun while trying to stop someone from taking their life (and maybe mine). It was trying to coach some of my players to pass the baton on to the next players who were more than ready for their turn.

It seems that in this particular case, the one she had mentioned, the players were determined to have the baton back, but they were not physically able to run the race, keep up with the game speed or do the work that comes with the baton. In other words, they wanted to make the decisions, call the shots and have the new young backs do “their” work. It didn’t happen. And very, very rarely will it happen that way.   

Many years ago, in one of my Dad’s wiser moments, a young church member came to him to ask what he thought about their new constitution and by-laws. They respected him, as should all younger leaders of past leaders.

His answer was a powerful lesson in trust. He looked the young man in the eye, thanked him for asking and then said, “It is your turn to lead now. I can’t decide for you what you need to do to reach the place you are going. I could only do that for me when it was my turn.

“I’m not going to be going where you are going. I am already here.”

Reflecting on this scenario brings a lot of questions to my mind. For instance….

1. Have I let my kids “really” go off to college or am I still trying to hold on to what should now be their baton?

2. Do I trust my teams when I ask them to complete a task or do I hold on to the baton and micromanage them?

3. Have I gotten too old to do a college ministry, just trying to hold on to the baton because it makes me feel younger?

4. When will I learn that every new generation of runners has a new and different stride and that is precisely why records continue to be broken?

Just another thought from the shallows…..