Operation Anaconda and Church Leadership

While one could argue against using warfare imagery to describe the Christian life, the fact remains that it is a common Christian image. One needs only to recall the song “Onward Christian Soldiers,” or the travesty that was the Crusades to recognize how common this imagery is. And Revelation 19 goes so far as to describe the conversion of the world as Christ riding against the world on a warhorse and slaughtering them with a sword (cf. Joshua 1-12).¹

The second book of my testimony trilogy also picks up on the warfare imagery: Soldier: Awakening, book 2. So it is deep in my bones. And if it’s helpful for you in your Christian walk, I don’t want to encourage you to discard it–like I am trying to do–but I do hope you are properly identifying the enemy.

Today, though, I bring up warfare imagery to make a point about Church leadership.

A while back, I came across this post on Threads:

Here’s an interesting thought…

At a minimum, a pastor or staff member will have spent 160 hours working on issues in a month.

A board member might spend two.

A congregational member might spend an hour—or, more likely, about 30 seconds—before passing judgment.

Why would you let church members vote on something they’ve thought about for 30 seconds?

This betrays an insane amount of pride. You–as a single pastor, or even as a team of pastors–cannot be privy to all the details of each of your parishioners’ lives. You cannot know all of the ministry situations they are placed in and facing every day.

I have recently been studying Operation Anaconda (March 2-15, 2002; the first major battle in Afghanistan) for a novel I’ve been writing for several years now. This description of a “solid combat commander” has stuck with me:

Always listen to the guy on the ground. It doesn’t mean you have to do exactly what he says, but always listen to him, and you’ll have a much better chance of making optimal decisions for your men.²

As it went with Operation Anaconda, so it often goes with the Church–whether local or universal. The whole operation almost failed, and men lost their lives because “intelligence that ran counter to the premises on which the plan was based was all but ignored.”³

Listen to the women living life day in and day out. Listen to the men on the ground. Listen to the people in the trenches. See what they are up against and construct a strategy based on that. Be quick to listen and slow to speak (James 1:19). Don’t slap a one-size-fits-all solution onto every ministry scenario because that’s what you were taught in seminary (or by your mentor before you).

Listen to your people. Listen to their struggles. Listen to their doubts and fears. Move forward based off that. They certainly know better than you what their unchurched friends are going through (even if those friends used to attend your church).

When you start acting like the resident expert on all things Christian–up in the ivory tower of your church office–you will do damage to the souls under your care. Souls will be lost.

When people have to come to your office to get an audience with you–or (if they’re lucky) catch you on Sunday morning amongst thirty other people all clamoring for your attention–don’t kid yourself that you’re in the trenches with the people. Yours is a completely different life: commanding officer vs. enlisted infantry.

Sit down with your people. Listen to them. Hear their hearts, not just their heads. And watch your influence and impact grow when you don’t act like an arrogant know-it-all of Christianity.

Where are the pastors who are actually in the trenches with their people?

In this with you.

Thanks for reading.

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Notes and References

1. You can find my exposition of Revelation 19:11-21 here. ↩︎
2. Sean Naylor, Not a Good Day to Die: The Untold Story of Operation Anaconda (New York: Berkley Books, 2005), 127. ↩︎
3. Naylor, Not a Good Day, 158. ↩︎