“We have lost our ability to listen to alternate points of view, to compromise and reconcile. As the edges of our debates are so sharp, we find it necessary to approach every discussion with weaponized arguments.” —Marc Emmer

How did we get to this point? As I wrote last month on my President’s blog, it’s at least partly attributable to a deliberate campaign:

The news for weeks has been filled with a series of revelations on the full extent of Russian president Vladimir Putin’s intelligence operation to drive wedges into western issues. Russia operated a massive “fake news” effort that targeted the 2016 political election in the U.S. They made social media posts “that reached 126 million users on Facebook, published more than 131,000 messages on Twitter and uploaded over 1,000 videos to Google’s YouTube service… they focused on race, religion, gun rights, and gay and transgender issues.” Russian third parties even went as far as paying coaches to offer self-defense classes for African Americans to increase the chance they would fight back against aggression. These coaches had no idea they were being manipulated by Russia.

We’ve been manipulated to hate each other! We’re standing here with fingers on the trigger only to discover that all of this tension we feel toward each other is the result of a carefully constructed plan! The person or group we thought hated us really doesn’t!

So now what do we do?

Let’s think tactically for a minute. When military commanders identify their opponent’s strategy, they try to work it for their advantage with an ambush. When intelligence officers identify their opponent’s strategy, they run counterintelligence operations and turn spies into double agents.

I’m not actually interested in how nations are responding to Russia’s strategy. I’m interested in how we respond as believers. As shocking as the scale of this operation is politically, it’s a familiar tactic to those of us in Christian ministry. Satan has been driving wedges for millennia against God’s purposes.

As I said in Driving Wedges,

As believers, exposing the strategy is the first step. But how do we wage an effective battle against a strategy to divide? Do we simply strengthen our defences and put up better firewalls against division? What would an offensive strategy look like? Would it mean trying to divide our opposition, responding in kind? Or could we intentionally pursue unity and collaboration?

The problem with seeking to respond in kind is that the ends don’t justify the means. God is just as concerned with how we wage war, and in our growth during the battle, as he is in the results. It’s the luxury he has in knowing he’s already won the war.

What tactics can we employ then?

First, redirect our anger. Turn it instead on the one who manipulated us and raised the stakes. No, it’s not actually Mr. Putin. Look behind him, because our battle is not with flesh and blood. We have a common enemy. It doesn’t mean we set aside our differences, but we make those differences secondary.

I was convicted a couple of weeks ago in Montreal when I heard a Catholic bishop point out that, when churches are in maintenance mode, they see each other as competitors. But when they are in mission mode, they see each other as collaborators. Division within the ranks of God’s kingdom is a luxury of peace and prosperity. When we’re united by a common enemy, we put our energy first into advancing the kingdom of God and putting the gates of Hell on their heels rather than promoting our own agenda or point of view. We can still pursue that while holding to our unique identity and beliefs.

Second, assume our positions are a whole lot closer than we’ve been led to believe. If we lay down our weapons and try to listen, seeking more light than heat, perhaps we will hear the heart behind the other side’s perspective. Remember the good advice that you can’t argue against someone until you understand the person’s argument well enough to articulate it yourself. Most of what North Americans believe about Muslims is simply not true. Most of what Republicans believe about Democrats is simply not true. One way to intentionally break those stereotypes is to broaden our media exposure to intentionally include the other perspective.

Earlier this year I found myself in a surreal situation. I was standing on a rooftop patio in a closed country, talking with a group of Muslim scholars interested in preserving indigenous languages in their country. So we had at least one area of common interest that brought us together. I wish I could have recorded the conversation when these Muslims began to rant against fellow countrymen doing violence in the name of Islam. Every time another attack takes place, they said, their job gets harder. People view them with more skepticism. Their country, their people and their religion are defamed. They yearn for peace in their country.

Third, learn to wage peace. The more time I spend in Canada, the more I appreciate some of the voices that have contributed to this country’s international reputation. One of those is the Anabaptist/Mennonite voice that has come out of the prairies. One author says their thinking has morphed over the past sixty years from quietism and passive nonresistance to activist peacemaking. It’s an art that defies the typical thinking that peace and unity are weak. Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi showed us that nonviolent force can change the world.

One tool for waging peace is the third table. When two groups are so distant from each other that they can’t communicate, a third space is designed to allow for honest discussion around issues once each side steps away from their militarized zones. There’s no “home team advantage,” but a safe place to try on different lenses, listen well and find common ground.

A friend recently pointed out that I’m good at creating third spaces. When people present a binary decision, I often don’t buy the thinking, but instead seek another way. Perhaps it’s my upbringing as a third culture kid who moved from Ontario to the Deep South when he was eight. In my first year, I tried holding to my culture—at one point refusing to sing the U.S. national anthem. Then I tried assimilation, changing my clothes and dropping the unique way I pronounced certain words. Eventually I came to appreciate my neutrality and unique cross-border perspective. Perhaps it’s the fact I was born in Canada, which has a a multi-party political system, a propensity for apology, and a strength in active peacemaking around the world. Perhaps it’s my resilience and strategic mindset that finds a way when seemingly forced into a choice between two undesirable options. Perhaps it’s my experience in an interdenominational, intergenerational organization that values language and culture. Many of my edges have been broken off over the past twenty years.

I’m growing in my conviction that we’ve been manipulated, and we urgently need to craft a response. Believers need to take the lead, because we have tools the rest of the world desperately needs.

Believers, we need to realize we are at war. It’s Satan’s most effective strategy to convince us we aren’t. As we do that, our response needs to meet the Matthew 10:16 standard: shrewd as snakes, innocent as doves. The problem is that the world knows Christians as naive. Luke 16:8 points out, “For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light.” Falling for peacetime thinking is perhaps chief evidence of our naiveté.

Being a Christian is not about denial—being nice and ignoring offence. Being a Christian is not about pretending someone didn’t mean to hurt you. Rather, it’s about being realistic about the hurt we’ve experienced, the world’s hatred of us and Satan’s hell-bent hunger to destroy us, and then intentionally choosing a counterintuitive weapon against those tactics. Turn the other cheek when antagonists expect retaliation. Show kindness to enemies when there’s no reason you should. Forgive the person who doesn’t deserve it.

Leaders, we have an important role here, challenging lazy thinking and crafting responses appropriate to these attacks, these schemes, these tactics. Our followers, our organizations, our churches and our countries are depending on us and looking to our lead. We need to assist them in fighting Satan’s strategies appropriately. For more, see my series on Wartime Leadership.




Recently (and finally), I began reading Ruth Haley Barton’s Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership. Judging from the first third, I know it is going to end up near the top of my list of leadership books and will be worth a re-read down the road. She builds her book around the story of Moses, which suits me fine because I’ve always been intrigued by his leadership model.

I never saw it before, but Moses is a classic third culture kid. He was Hebrew-born, an identity forgotten in his childhood but that he longed to retrieve as an adult. He was raised as an Egyptian, an identity so woven into him that he doesn’t deny that label when first introduced to the priest of Midian. Born into poverty and slavery, he was raised in the home of Pharoah. His education and wealth was surely both a huge privilege and a weight. Barton concludes that “He lived between two worlds and yet was not fully at home in either place.”

As an outsider both among his own people and among the Egyptians who raised him, he probably wrestled every day with issues related to his identity. Should he fit into the environment in which he had been raised and follow the path marked out for him there? Or should he identify with his own people and try to make it by those rules instead? Neither one was a very good choice. Either one would bring about emptiness and loss.

In many ways, I can identify with Moses as a Canadian and an American who is really neither Canadian nor American. In reflecting on my own path into leadership, I think the pivotal moment for me was my transplant at age eight from the suburbs of Toronto to the suburbs of Atlanta. I remember struggling with the question of whether to assimilate or hold stubbornly to my culture that first year. I remember wearing the wrong clothes, pronouncing words the wrong way and knowing nothing of “importance” — usually pop-culture references that went over my head. Fortunately, I was a quick study. I chose assimilation and blended in successfully. However, that sense of imbalance as an “outsider” was a feeling I never wanted to experience again. I’ll bet I could trace much of my leadership style to that stage in my journey.

However, I can see the benefits of third-culturehood. Putting myself in Moses’ shoes, I can sense the conclusion that eventually began to formulate in his mind. The Hebrews needed rescuing. Who else was in a better position to be the solution? Why else had he had such a unique upbringing? He was born for such a time as this, and God had gifted him in leadership. In addition, confidence and power had likely been built into him every day in Pharaoh’s home and schools. His sense of justice began to stir as he explored his roots. The mantle of “savior” had fallen on him. All he needed was opportunity.

Days after the glorious failure of his salvation initiative, Moses traveled alone in the wilderness, forced to confront the ugliness in himself. There was the raw anger that blazed out of control. He hadn’t intended to kill the guard. There was the lack of support from the Hebrews. Didn’t they see that he was appointed for this task? There was the loss of privilege that he hated and yet was so attached to. There was the shame of failure. He was through with leadership.

Over months and years in Midian, God began to peel away the coping mechanisms, the assumptions, the scabs and calluses from his wounds until he could come face to face with his core issue of inadequacy and pain. There’s a moment that sums up his 40 year journey. Barton puts it this way:

He fathered a son, and it became a touchstone in his life, an opportunity to name something about himself with more courage and realism than ever before. When his son was born, he named him Gershom because ‘I have been an alien residing in a foreign land’ (Exodus 2:22).

As a leader, what do you do with your upbringing? Like it or not, you will lead out of it. Anything else would be disingenuous and unsustainable. Suppressed pain and experiences will eventually emerge when you face crisis, complexity, loneliness, betrayal and weariness. Better to embrace what shaped you and lead from there.

That means seeing — or waiting for — the right opportunity. Moses wasn’t wrong about being the “savior.” He was wrong about doing it in his own strength and timing. Only after his 40-year education could he see how the pieces fit together. Only after arguing vociferously but ineffectively with God could he embrace the idea of a second attempt.

That means leading out of brokenness. It means allowing God to do a deep work to redeem your pain. It also means stepping out in faith when you don’t feel confident. Barton quotes Os Guinness, who offers a unique spin on the idea of a leadership calling:

Calling is not only a matter of being and doing what we are but also of becoming what we are not yet but are called by God to be.

Don’t wait to be the person you think God needs. Believe the One “who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were.” (Romans 4:17)

That means leading out of power. Counterintuitively, there’s real power in leading out of who you are. You might not like what you see in the mirror, but opening your soul and leading from who God made you to be is a powerful starting point. Barton points out that Moses was equipped to lead the Hebrews through 40 years in the wilderness only because he had emerged from 40 years in the wilderness.

There’s a remarkable current-day example. Wess Stafford, president of Compassion International, says he got the job because he cared about children the most. His own story of abuse is remarkable and the driver behind all that he has accomplished. He admits, “I am never more than 10 seconds away from tears.” His willingness to put his own pain out for all to see has given him a platform to accomplish amazing things.

I remember hearing Stafford speak at Willow Creek Leadership Summit in 2009. He urged leaders to spend 30 minutes in front of a mirror, taking the time to ask yourself some tough questions. Who am I? What do I care about? Why do I lead what I lead? Is my passion driven by pain or success?

Knowing who you are is the greatest platform for leadership.