I’m going to write something you already know:

Humility isn’t an optional quality—it is the foundational quality. Without humility, a person cannot lead. They can dictate, direct, and manage, but not lead. Leadership requires the ability to balance the tension between what you know and don’t know and how to execute within that tension. If we can’t admit what we don’t know, we can’t execute. 

Here is the second thing you already know:

The above is true for any leader, but it is vital for the leader of any church or religious organization. A lack of humility doesn’t just diminish a leader’s effectiveness in a nonprofit or religious organization; it completely undermines credibility. 

Yet, there is a disconnect between humility and leadership – sometimes more in the church than anywhere else. I know it, because I’ve lived it. 

Buckle up, buttercup – we are going back to my first full-time job post-college.

I was hired as a director at a large church. The role oversaw a team of volunteers and was a key leadership position within the parish – a team leader. I was painfully green – I knew a lot of theory but my experience for the position was limited. The lack experience wasn’t going to kill me, but my overconfidence would. When speaking with the rest of the volunteer team, I inflated my experience to be bigger than it was in reality, and as a result, I never asked for help in the first few months of work. I needed to perpetuate the false narrative. That time was critical to setting a standard and impression of who I was as a leader, but I failed, and I failed on the back of one piece of misguided advice:

Be the alpha. 

When talking with a friend regarding some of my anxieties about the job, I said that I was worried about leading people much older (and, in some cases, more experienced) than I was. His advice was to assert my authority—to “be the alpha,” which would gain my team’s respect. 

Surely, it works for wild pack animals… why wouldn’t it work for a bunch of middle-aged church volunteers?

So, I tried it. I didn’t listen to feedback. I didn’t ask for feedback. I shut down criticism and was defensive any time it was offered. I never asked for help, and “I don’t know” never crossed my lips. As a leader in a church who was called to imitate Christ in all things (including humility; see Philippians 2:1-8), it was a bold strategy. 

It didn’t take long to reap the seeds that were sown. The team of parish volunteers I led would hang me out to dry, and understandably so. In one particular instance, I didn’t ask for help understanding the process for ordering the all-important “retreat t-shirts” for a confirmation retreat weekend with high school teenagers. The result was bright, safety green long-sleeve shirts that said “Wannabe Catholic” on the front… at an unreasonably high price point. When I angrily demanded answers from my team as to why they didn’t help, they shrugged and simply replied, “You never asked.” 

I double down on my efforts, convinced that a show of strength would win the respect that was lacking. However, when we play stupid games we win stupid prizes. The team stopped offering advice – even when team members could see me headed for destruction. After the t-shirt fiasco, I needed to secure affirmation letters for teenagers from their parents, coaches, and other significant adults in their lives. Instead of asking for help with this massive undertaking, I tackled the project alone. I missed the timeline for communicating expectations and invitations. One week before the deadline, I was scrambling to figure out how to get the letters. The team knew fully well what was needed and the timeline, but it never got done because I insisted on doing it all myself and my way. I tried to blame others for the mistake, but even in my pride, I knew it was my fault. 

At that time, I could have blamed the team for writing me off due to my age or for “being the new guy.” My age and inexperience were not why my team refused to follow me – my pride was. If I had started with humility, the road would have been easier. However, despite the challenging path, I was still able to correct the error by doing these three things:

I apologized sincerely. 

I blamed people for my shortcomings and disrespected their gifts and talents – I needed to atone for that. Any apology is an act of humility, so offering a sincere “I’m sorry” is an excellent place to start if you need to grow in this virtue. 

When apologizing, I’ve found that it is best to be specific (what do you need forgiveness for), “other-focused” (don’t make the apology about you), and receptive (listen to what they have to say without offering excuses). Make a list of people you must apologize to, and ensure you are sincere in your desire to apologize (don’t do it to check a box). 

I admitted I didn’t know, and I asked for help. 

Everyone already knew I had no clue what I was doing, so we all felt free when I finally admitted it. Suddenly, people were available to help me in areas where I fell short, and I could learn from them. I thought this would undermine my leadership credibility, but it built it. A leader isn’t a person who can do it all; a leader can put people in positions who know what they are doing. 

I also learned that most of these people didn’t want to take my job – they didn’t want to come anywhere near it. They wanted to offer their gifts and talents in the places they were passionate about. That was a win for them, and it was a win for me. 

I started offering a lot of praise and gratitude. 

I had yet to learn how far recognition goes. I loved being praised, which is probably why I took on so much work; I wanted people to see everything I was doing and affirm me. What I failed to notice was all of the great work other people were doing. In church work, we can take gratitude for granted. We forget that volunteers must be thanked and told they are doing a great job. 

Just like apologizing, any word of gratitude needs to be sincere (you need to mean it), specific (highlight what you are thankful for in detail), and “other-focused” (don’t make it about you). Offer praise often. 

It wasn’t until I finally broke down and admitted I didn’t know everything that I asked for help. I apologized, and people began to come back around. That wasn’t true for everyone – some people left me and walked away from the team. There were people with whom it took longer to repair relationships. Some people didn’t stick around for me, but for the mission, and I eventually won their trust. I learned a hard lesson; sometimes “being the alpha” is more like being the lone wolf and it doesn’t take long to get stranded in the wilderness.