There is probably no more elusive or more distressing concept in the history of human thought than
the topic of leadership. Every major period in history has attempted to analyze it.
It is no surprise, then, that the folklore of every people is full of ideas on leadership. Ages ago, one
sage wrote: “When a million people follow you, ask yourself where you have gone wrong.” And
somewhere an apocryphal bishop is said to have lamented: Wherever Jesus went there was a
revolution; wherever I go they serve tea.
And those homey insights do indeed give light to the topic, but it’s two ancient religious stories,
though, that may best demonstrate the need for coming to grips with the nature of leadership.
The first story is from the Hasidim: The Jews of a small town in Russia, the story recalls, were eagerly
awaiting the arrival of the rabbi. Since this was such a rare event the townsfolk had spent a great deal
of time preparing the important questions they were willing to put to such a holy man. When the rabbi
finally arrived and met with them he could sense the tension in the assembly as they froze in place to
listen to his words. But, sensing the situation, the rabbi said nothing at all. He simply gazed into their
eyes and began to hum a very haunting melody. Soon everyone there began to hum. He started to sing
and they sang along with him. He swayed and danced in solemn, measured steps. And the congregation
swayed and danced as well. Soon they were all so involved in the dance, so absorbed in its movements
that they were lost to everything else on earth, completely centered on that moment, and, at the
same time, completely lifted up beyond it, as well.
It was nearly an hour before the dance slowed down and came to a halt. Then the rabbi spoke the only
words he pronounced that entire night. “I trust,” he said, “that I have answered your questions?” And
then he disappeared into the dark, not to be seen in that place again for years. But it was all right that
he was gone because those people had learned that there was a great dance in life that they could
dance themselves.
The second story is from the Sufi. Once upon a time the disciples said to the Holy One, “Tell us what
you got from enlightenment. Did you become divine?” “No, not divine,” the Holy One said. “Did you
become a saint?” “Oh, dear, no,” the Holy One said. “Then what did you become?” the disciples asked.
“I became awake,” the Holy One said.
To enable people to become awake and involved, involved and awake may well be the greatest thing
that leadership can do for anyone.
the topic of leadership. Every major period in history has attempted to analyze it.
It is no surprise, then, that the folklore of every people is full of ideas on leadership. Ages ago, one
sage wrote: “When a million people follow you, ask yourself where you have gone wrong.” And
somewhere an apocryphal bishop is said to have lamented: Wherever Jesus went there was a
revolution; wherever I go they serve tea.
And those homey insights do indeed give light to the topic, but it’s two ancient religious stories,
though, that may best demonstrate the need for coming to grips with the nature of leadership.
The first story is from the Hasidim: The Jews of a small town in Russia, the story recalls, were eagerly
awaiting the arrival of the rabbi. Since this was such a rare event the townsfolk had spent a great deal
of time preparing the important questions they were willing to put to such a holy man. When the rabbi
finally arrived and met with them he could sense the tension in the assembly as they froze in place to
listen to his words. But, sensing the situation, the rabbi said nothing at all. He simply gazed into their
eyes and began to hum a very haunting melody. Soon everyone there began to hum. He started to sing
and they sang along with him. He swayed and danced in solemn, measured steps. And the congregation
swayed and danced as well. Soon they were all so involved in the dance, so absorbed in its movements
that they were lost to everything else on earth, completely centered on that moment, and, at the
same time, completely lifted up beyond it, as well.
It was nearly an hour before the dance slowed down and came to a halt. Then the rabbi spoke the only
words he pronounced that entire night. “I trust,” he said, “that I have answered your questions?” And
then he disappeared into the dark, not to be seen in that place again for years. But it was all right that
he was gone because those people had learned that there was a great dance in life that they could
dance themselves.
The second story is from the Sufi. Once upon a time the disciples said to the Holy One, “Tell us what
you got from enlightenment. Did you become divine?” “No, not divine,” the Holy One said. “Did you
become a saint?” “Oh, dear, no,” the Holy One said. “Then what did you become?” the disciples asked.
“I became awake,” the Holy One said.
To enable people to become awake and involved, involved and awake may well be the greatest thing
that leadership can do for anyone.
WHAT'S A LEADER TO DO?
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