accountability

That Important...but Invisible Line

Rick Bundschuh — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 07:09:54 -0800

A good friend of mine is the top dog in an outfit that does incredibly good things for the poor wo try to survive in the dusty folds just across our borders. He lives very modestly and drives a used four-wheel drive SUV as is apt for a mission ministry that survives off of the generosity and sacrifice of others.

A life long bachelor, he has given his years to God’s service and the needs of the poor, and as such, has deeply inspired many. So much so that one day a wealthy supporter pulled him aside and handed him the keys to fancy sports car.

“This is for you” he said, “If anyone deserves it, you do”.

For several months my friend drove this gift around, marveling at its speed, handling and luxury.

But the whole time there was a queasy feeling in his gut.

“I pull up to a church in this car to talk about the poor and something doesn’t feel right” he said to me, “I know that this car was a gift and cost me or the ministry nothing, but you can feel the perception of others when they see me driving it.”

The apparent incongruity between the appearance of wealth and my friend’s mission fairly soon caused him to return the car back to the donor. (Who had a hard time seeing the issue, by the way)

There was an invisible line, unspoken, undefined, but very real that had been crossed. At stake was his credibility and ultimately the credibility of his organization.

Fair? Not really.

Judging and jumping to conclusions? Of course.

Understandable? You decide. And while you are deciding consider this:

Now it is not common knowledge, but the CEO’s of two of the largest Christian child sponsorship organizations may have crossed this invisible line. One draws almost a half a million per year and the other just under $300,000 not including fees for speaking etc.

Do they deserve it? Surely, they manage millions of dollars in gifts each year and must navigate the touchy political situations needed to distribute the funds.

Is it on par with what other CEOs of Non Profits make. Absolutely, in fact compared to outfits such as the Red Cross, it is much less.

But…do these salary levels bother you, even a little bit? Does this information cast a shadow on the mission they are promoting? Does it make you want to sacrifice a bit less?

Yeah, I thought so. Me too. And our family and church are deeply invested in helping the poor via child sponsorship programs and this won’t change. But I do have a queasy feeling in my gut.

There is some kind of incongruity that is hard to explain.

Would you be able to explain it to someone like my daughter, a college student, who during her winter and summer break runs out to get jobs and goes without buying new clothes in order to pay for the three “refrigerator kids” she has supported since High School?

I thought not.

Which is why I have not told her about the CEO salary of the child sponsorship program she is supporting.

I don’t know what I could say that would make sense to her, buoy up her palpable disappointment or head off the invitation to cynicism.

Because we both know that there has been the crossing of some sort of invisible line.

And by the way, my good friends who work for these organizations will no doubt be appalled that I am putting this information out in a heavily read blog. They will tell me that children’s sponsorship will be hurt because of this.

And if they are right, they will have illustrated with great clarity the presence of that important but invisible line their very organization has tried to ignore.

Pachyderm

Rick Bundschuh — Sat, 14 May 2011 08:01:30 -0700

Here are some thoughts on a topic we all know: the dreaded elephant in the room, that big thing that haunts your life. Check it out, and then check out my latest book, Deep Like Me.

Lash Me to the Mast

Rick Bundschuh — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 21:29:26 -0700

I just watched another marriage blow into pieces. Kids are involved, and I fear that they are at the age where the shrapnel from the explosion in their world will do the most damage.

There was no good reason for the pin to be pulled but pulled it was and the party wanting out of the marriage made sure to do so in a very strident and bloody fashion.

And I know what happens now: craziness.

The abandoned spouse, now temporarily stunned, sooner or later will feel the full weight of remorse, anger, guilt, mourning, emptiness, imbalance, fear and loneliness. The one who pulled the pin will at first feel euphoria mixed with guilt to be followed later by blame, loathing, anger mostly directed toward others.

Emotions will be raw, the hurt palpable, understood only by those who have experienced them.

Then the sirens will call.

Sometimes they will show themselves, appearing as a soft good smelling woman or a rugged confident man. “How could anyone do that to you? You didn’t deserve to be treated that way” they will sing, “You’re special, you’re lovely, you’re wonderful” they will purr to the heart in pain.

And that’s all it will take, overboard they will dive – to hell with the kids, their horrified friends, the Lord or anything else.

Or the sirens may simply offer the smooth melody of medication or escape. In some cases they just offer a bewitching but sour song of rage or revenge.

But the result is the same, a rough landing on the rocks and reef followed by more misery.

Of course it doesn’t take a divorce to hear the siren’s call. Some hear it when the computer warms up, the digital goddesses inviting a private harmless peek at their delights. Some hear their song when the opportunity to defeat an opponent or get a leg up on someone is presented to them. For some the song comes with chance for power or increasing wealth, status or prestige.

The honest truth is that there is not a one of us who at some point in our journey will not hear that absolutely beautiful voice calling us to our ruin and be helpless to prevent it.

And that is the important thing old Odysseus understood; he did not have the ability within himself to resist their call and he would need help from his shipmates, their ears deaf to the sirens, to lash him to mast for his own safety.

I like that imagery. I like it because I think it is an honest statement about me…and quite frankly you. There are songs so beguiling that without the help of my brothers, will send me into the deep. I need them to lash me to the mast and to ignore my pleading to loosen my binds until the danger has passed. And I know that I will need to do the same for them around some curve in life.

No wonder we are told to “confess our sins to one another.”

Let the celebrations continue

Jeff Hopper — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 14:41:42 -0700

Sport’s most famous non-celebrant had reason to celebrate again last night. But he didn’t plan to.

Josh Hamilton, the American League MVP candidate and centerfielder for the Texas Rangers, stayed away from the Tropicana Field clubhouse. He lingered on the field, did an interview or two, and let his teammates do their bubbly thing inside.

Turns out, though, his teammates had a surprise for Hamilton. They left the champagne and beer at the liquor store. When Hamilton finally, reluctantly entered the clubhouse, his teammates were waiting. With ginger ale.

Nearly three weeks ago he did the same elusive thing in Oakland, when the Rangers clinched their division. That time, Hamilton had an excellent “excuse,” as it was Faith Night at the Coliseum and Hamilton was on tap to deliver his testimony.

Hamilton has one of those testimonies, the kind we all tend to envy. The world both his oyster and his enemy, Hamilton squandered his bonus baby millions on the drugs that undid him. He was no good to his wife, no good to his children, no good to himself, no good to God.

Of course, no one told God that, and He waited Hamilton out, found him in utter despair on his grandmother's couch. As she was nursing his ravished body, God was resurrecting his soul.

Part prodigal, part Lazarus, Josh Hamilton returned.

But oh, how he must be careful! The drugs and alcohol still call his name. There was an embarrassing relapse, if only for a night, in early 2009. Photos emerged on the Internet, making it ugly for everyone close to Hamilton.

So here’s what happened: they got closer.

Hamilton owned up to his wife, his pastor, his coaches, his teammates. And they knew just what to do. They guarded him ever more closely. Not in a we’ll-keep-your-secrets sort of guarding. Frankly, there’s no good in such enabling. Rather, they made sure Hamilton owned up. Then they recommitted themselves to flanking Hamilton, keeping him away from alcoholic bedlam, so much so that he doesn’t get any even on his skin. One relapse is enough.

I only hope Glen Coffee has friends like this. I was deeply moved when Coffee left the San Francisco 49ers this preseason to serve Jesus. I want to follow Jesus like that, forsaking the Big Thing in my life if the Big Thing isn’t Him.

But then Coffee was arrested last week for illegal weapons possession and in the quiet of no forthrightness, the cynics have filled the comment fields on this blog and that. It’s ugly.

I’m ready to forgive Glen Coffee, to see him get to what God has for him, as Josh Hamilton has been able to do. I just hope those who know Coffee best are ready enough, sacrificial enough, to help him get there.

Support Beams

jodie howerton — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 11:20:37 -0800

We had the good fortune to travel to the balmy island of Kaua’i (notice the apostrophe – I’m pretty much a local now) last week. We try to get to Hawai’i (again, notice apostrophe) every February to escape the gray doldrums of living in the Pacific Northwest in the winter. Mid-January, our Southern California blood starts demanding we get it some Vitamin D. We use our companion tickets for airfare and my in-laws graciously cover the accommodations. So, the trip really is almost free, if we refrain from eating out too much while we’re on the island. Almost free paradise is my kind of paradise. We were in Kaua’i when we got the news that we can go pick up our son at the end of March. The news felt surreal, dream-like. We weren’t expecting this news until at least mid-summer. I e-mailed a few friends about the news but mostly just walked around in a daze induced by tropical landscape and shock. Toward the end of our trip, I was finally able to blog about it somewhat articulately to announce the news to the world (see previous post).

On the island of Kaua’i, there is this gigantic, abandoned old hotel right on the coast. The Coco Palms was the oldest hotel on the island and the world’s most famous Polynesian resort in the 50’s and 60’s. Elvis himself stayed there and scenes from his famous movie “Blue Hawaii” were filmed there. When Hurricane Iniki struck in September of ’92, the hotel was badly damaged and was closed down indefinitely. Repairs were deemed too expensive. Today, the windows are broken, the roof is rotting, and the lagoons in the coconut groves are now swamps of algae and moss. Left to rot, the building is totally uninhabitable but for tours. What fascinates me most about the Coco Palms, is that all the support beams are still intact. The building is still standing. The exterior is falling apart, but the skeleton of the building, without maintenance, has held it up stalwartly for the past 18 years.

There’s a point coming, I promise. Bear with me….

We returned from vacation this week and have set in motion all the plans to travel to Africa and re-organize our lives to transition into a family of 5. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve had a few meltdowns. I’m emotionally overwhelmed. I have also never felt so supported. My handy thesaurus gives these synonyms for “support”: hold up, bear up, prop up, keep up, brace, shore up, underpin, reinforce, buttress. This week, I’ve felt like the Coco Palms. My exterior is cracking and everything inside feels chaotic and unkempt. But, there are these incredible support beams holding me up, making sure I don’t collapse.

Support Beam #1: This week, one of my best friends went rogue on me and organized a fundraiser for our air travel to Africa. I say “rogue” because I would have said no if she asked me for permission. I have this character flaw of super-independence that prevents me from accepting help. Neely, being one of my best friends, knew this about me. So, she didn’t ask. She raised enough money to cover one whole plane ticket. People came out of the woodwork to purchase raffle tickets to support us.

Support Beam #2:

I literally can’t keep up with all the e-mails from people offering us air miles. People have also offered to paint, clean, make food…You people are incredible!

Support Beam #3: I can FEEL people’s prayers. In the midst of my little breakdowns, I have this amazing sense of peace, that everything is going to work out, that we are under the amazing umbrella of God’s grace. My breakdowns are just a normal part of the process…. I think. J

Support Beam #4: My friend, Daniele Ott, who is also a professional organizer, is going to help me get the house organized and ready for another kiddo. She came over last night, took a look at things, and reassured me that we could get everything done in 2 days. She’s going to hold my hand through the whole thing and whip my house into the most organized state it’s ever been in. You really should hire her. She’s a freaking genius. When she left, I felt a huge weight fall from my shoulders.

I am so humbled by these support beams that are shoring us up, keeping us stable and strong.

So, thank you everybody. Thank you so, so much.

Mike Foster: Why I Don't Believe In Accountability Part 2

Guest Voices — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 10:35:58 -0700

Mike Foster is the co-author of “Deadly Viper Character Assassins” and blogs at www.DeadlyViper.org You can follow his thoughts on life and leadership at Twitter.com/mikefoster

WHY I DON’T BELIEVE IN CHRISTIAN ACCOUNTABILITY! PART 2

I truly believe it is time to reinvent and rethink this very important component of our lives. Over the years, Christian accountability has deformed into a very ugly, uninspiring, and broken system.

First off, I want to change the word from “accountability” to “advocacy.” If we are going to redefine a process and introduce a new concept, I think it needs a new word. The word I use in this context with fellow friends and leaders is advocacy. The term can be described as active support, intercession, or pleading and arguing in favor of someone.

So let’s take a look at what advocacy means.

Radical Grace Is The Foundation:
Radical grace is the core engine for any healthy relationship. You can not have true transparency or confession without it. I encourage people to make verbal commitments to each other and clearly state that they will stand by one another through the best AND the worst.

Most people live with the fear of rejection and allow this fear to dictate how honest they will be with others. In advocacy, we are constantly demonstrating that this relationship is a safe place. Through our response to one another’s failures, our own deep confession, and reminding each other that we are in this for the long haul, we implement radical grace.

Focus on the Yes, not the No:
Advocacy focuses on the “yes,” not the “no.” Too often typical Christian accountability revolves around long lists of what NOT to do. We spend way too much time discussing and managing the sin. Often we lock onto the most minor unhealthy behaviors and think that’s going to prepare us for success in life. Unfortunately we operate on the faulty assumption that working on the symptoms will address the core problem. Bad idea!!!

Advocacy spurs us on to the “yes.” It revolves around the crazy good things that we should be engaging in. It pushes us to live a life of positive risks, creativity, adventure, and significance. We rally around each other in this and focus our relationships around this theme.

I truly believe a large amount of moral blowouts flow from boredom and dissatisfaction. We become depressed and unsatisfied with our life, career, and marriage and then we enter into dangerous territory. Why? Because we are not focusing on the “Yes!”

I know that in my own life I become vulnerable when I have lost a sense of mission and purpose. Having an advocate in our life is important in reminding us of our calling.

Priority on People, Not Organizations
When people fail or become involved in some scandal, too often we immediately consider the ramifications on the organization or company. I’ve talked to many Christians who are very concerned about when a pastor falls of how this impacts the cause of Christ.

Unfortunately, we place more concern on the damage to the brand of Christianity or the church instead of the fallen individual. I’ve seen horrific and hurtful things happen to people in the name of protecting the organization instead of the fallen person. Quite frankly, that sucks!!!

If you haven’t figured it out by now, Christianity’s brand is failures and wrecked lives. Churches are places with messy people who do stupid things. I’ve certainly made my contribution to this effort with my mistakes.
In advocacy the importance is placed on the individual. It is about people, especially those who are most broken. The organization, church or company should take a back seat.

Multi Group Approach
Christian accountability often is accomplished in small groups that are too general or with just one person that puts too much responsibility on one individual.

Advocacy embraces having multiple layers of transparency and connection. I have about 10 people who are involved in spurring me on to a life of integrity. They can actively speak into my life and I would listen and make the necessary tweaks.

However, I have about 4 people who I have a deeper connection with and discuss harder things. I also have more structure with this group. This is what I consider to be the core.
But even beyond the core, I have one friend that has full access. We take complete responsibility for each others integrity, purity, and sustainability. I refer to this person as my “first call.” When the crap hits the fan, I call him first.

Each layer moves into a greater level of commitment and advocacy and each layer has an important role.

Mike Foster: Why I don't believe in Christian accountability, part 1

Guest Voices — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 15:33:55 -0700

Mike Foster is the co-author of "Deadly Viper Character Assassins" and blogs at DeadlyViper.org.

You can follow his nuggets on leadership, life and grace at Twitter.com/mikefoster.

Why I Don't Believe in Christian Accountability, Part 1

I am deeply committed to all of us living a life of radical integrity and grace. Through Deadly Viper I get the chance to work with leaders on personal sustainability and living a life with no regrets. And though I champion the ideas of transparency, authenticity, and brutal honesty, I don't believe in Christian accountability.

The whole concept makes me cringe and I don't think I'm alone in this assessment. It's horribly broken, ineffective, and doing a lot of people a disservice. In many ways Christian accountability is facilitating a pathway to our lives being chopped up by character assassins.

So here are a few reasons why I don't believe in Christian accountability and why a new discussion needs to happen around maintaining our integrity.

1. Lack of Grace:
The primary reason Christian accountability doesn't work is because we are more interested in justice and fixing a problem. I've seen too many times great men and women get chewed up by this process. When we fail, what we need most is grace and a second chance, not a lecture.

We have all probably experienced or seen a harsh response to our struggles or failures. But there is a big problem when we respond with justice and not grace. You see human beings are wired up for self protection and survival. When we others being hurt, rejected, or punished for their sin, we correctly conclude that it is better to hide, conceal, and fake it in the future. It basically comes down to this: I don't want to get hurt, so I'm not telling. When we lack grace, accountability breaks down.

2. Bad Environments:
Let me be frank. If I were having an illicit affair with a woman I'm not going to confess it to 4 guys at a Denny's breakfast. And yet, too often Christian accountability is carried out in these types of environments. We meet in small groups in a weekly environment with a few of our friends. Ultimately there is a lid on how transparent these conversations can be and too often we believe that if we are meeting weekly then we are "accountable."

My best conversations about my brokenness and struggles have come in non typical environments. Places where I am completely relaxed, at ease, and feel removed from my daily life.

I have seen leaders every year go away for a week and meet with a coach or therapist and have this time be very effective. They dump a ton of junk; begin working strategies in their life, and start dealing with significant character issues. To be frank, I would rather have us have one week of brutal honesty then 52 weeks of semi honesty at Dennys.

My point is simple. Find an environment that is going to allow you to open up and examine your current process.

3. The Results:
Unfortunately, the results speak for themselves. If Christian accountability was a company it would need a serious bailout. It simply inadequate and the results are sub par at best.

The breaking down of our marriages, financial impropriety, ego maniac and narcissistic behavior, sexual misconduct, and the bending of every rule we come across are simply signs of a failed system. Last week I read a post from a pastor who had received emails from 33 other pastors who confessed to him of being involved in an affair.

4. We Game The System:
If I wanted to I could spend the next decade of my life convincing you how wonderful I am and how I have it all together. (Luckily, I have no desire to do that) It bothers me that I'm clever enough to package Mike Foster in such a way that I could make you all believe what a swell guy I am and how I have it all together.

The problem with Christian accountability is that you and I can game the system. I know how to beat it and if you stick around the church long enough you will figure it out too. And that's a problem. We're the alcoholic that knows where the hidden key to the liquor cabinet is.

Gaming the system is not hard. We know the right words. We know the right things to talk about. We know how to frame things up to effectively keep everyone off course on who we truly are. I can do it and so can you. And that's a big problem.

So that's why I'm not a fan of Christian accountability and truly believe it is busted. But please don't lose hope. In part two, I have something I want to offer up as a replacement to this flawed system of maintaining our integrity.