First United Methodist Church, Birmingham, Michigan
Scriptures: Genesis 3:1-6, I Corinthians 1:18-31
January 9, 2000
Now that Christian Laettner (great name) and Jerome Williams (another great name) have begun to corral some offensive rebounds, nobody misses Dennis Rodman. Dennis was a loose cannon when he played here. And, given his fondness for driving around in his pickup with a long gun riding shotgun, Dennis may have carried a loose cannon when he played here. But he doesn’t play anywhere, anymore. Just when he should be at the top of his game, nobody wants him….not the Bulls….not the Suns….not the Mavs….not even Madonna or Carmen Electra. What’s more, he is running out of skin to tattoo. And he’s only 33.
The only man who was able to employ him and understand him was Chuck Daly. Remember Chuck? Remember when? Following a stretch of games in which Rodman wasn’t quite up to snuff, Daly was asked: “What’s wrong with Dennis?” To which Daly answered: “Dennis is thinking too much out there. So I’ve started telling him (every time he comes off the floor), ‘Dennis….don’t think, just play.’” Which worked. Far too well. For how was Chuck to know that those were the last four words of advice Dennis Rodman would ever hear….or heed?
Don’t think….just play.
Today, most coaches will tell you that while it’s wonderful to have muscled athletes, the only sure way to victory is to have smart athletes….with the brain being the most overlooked muscle in the guide to athletic success. At the end of the season, who wins? I’ll tell you who wins. Teams that play hard….and smart. That’s who wins.
Which is so in life, don’t you know. Never underestimate “smarts”….either professionally or spiritually. I have always believed that the mind is a gift….the intellect, a tool….thinking, one means of serving….and brilliance, one sure way of brightening the corner where you are. While there are some things about the Christian faith that may be simple, let us never (as a church or as individual believers) sing the praise of simpletonism. Which is a message that should play here, given that (as a congregation) you people are about as mentally well-endowed as they come.
But which also makes you highly susceptible to a virus. Not unlike a flu virus….or a computer virus….this virus attacks smart people, causing them to do dumb things, to the point of screwing up royally….and (occasionally) catastrophically. Or as one very bright lad once confessed in my hearing: “I don’t make mistakes often. But when I do, it’s a doozy.” I don’t know if there are precise measurements for the word “doozy.” But, as they say in the marketplace, the word computes. Meaning that you can be too smart for your own good….or anybody else’s good (for that matter). Your success can be sabotaged….not necessarily by circumstances (like ill winds, hard times, or bear markets)….not necessarily by rivals (like your competitive co-worker, your conniving brother-in-law, or crazy Carlos in cost accounting)….but by your own intellect.
If that sounds like a book promo, it is. The book’s title: Why Smart People Do Dumb Things. The book’s authors: Mortimer Feinberg and John Tarrant. Collectively, they have studied history, read literature (including biblical literature) and interviewed hundreds of corporate types in an effort to understand “boardroom breakdown” (meaning the mega-mistakes made by highly-regarded leaders of business and private life).
They make an impressive case. They compile an impressive list. They write an impressive manuscript. And they suggest some impressive strategies. Little of which I will repeat here. For this is not a workshop….I am not a consultant….and you have not signed up to be clients.
I happened on the book, not through my colleagues who are clergy, but through Kristine who is a consultant….to Ford….in corporate training….where Feinberg and Tarrant have appeared in person. They were invited to help “Ford types” debug the virus, or at least inoculate themselves against it. It is interesting that Ford felt a need to do this….either because of logs they saw in their own eyes, or sticks they saw in GM and Chrysler eyes.
As if to whet the reader’s appetite, the authors begin by describing….
· - a sharp, intuitive investor who loses a fortune by taking a position….not because he really believes in the deal….but because he does not want to look like a wimp.
· - a fast rising manager who blows a big promotion by insisting that her contract include a “perk” she neither needs nor wants.
· - an entrepreneur who, when confronted by a choice among merger partners, makes the worst-possible choice, wrecking his beloved company (which was also his daddy’s company) and ending the jobs of hundreds of loyal employees.
· - a respected (and utterly unprejudiced) community leader who blurts out a story in a town meeting that makes her sound like a racist, blemishing her reputation and ending her career of public service.
· - a gentle and perceptive man who, though genuinely in love with his wife, humiliates and debases her before an embarrassed gathering of close friends.
· - a newly-elected ecclesiastical leader who, in picking her team, skips over multi-talented people who could truly help her, in favor of a weak and lackluster group that virtually ensures her failure.
And that casual listing does not begin to cover political miscalculations, public relations fiascoes, military blunders, and sexual dalliances that measure 9.5 on the Richter Scale of Stupidity….thus costing lives, careers, fortunes and families, before the dust settles or the meltdown fizzles (choose your metaphor).
In the church business….the only business I know as an insider….I have seen it over and over again. The good ones often fall faster and farther than their compatriots (who come to the ministry with lower promise and less equipment). Obviously, I will not name them….lest, in doing so, I join them. But they are there. And if those of us who are insiders start telling stories, we will quickly discover that we are telling the same stories. Which, if they weren’t true, would be less sad. But they are true. And they are sad.
So, what does happen to smart people? Self sabotage, for one thing. A lot of people commit career suicide. Sometimes intentional. More often, unconscious. Whatever their level of achievement, they don’t believe they deserve what they have. They don’t believe they belong where they are. Or they don’t believe they should have climbed the heights to which they have ascended. They feel like great pretenders….or clever imposters. So they implode….self destruct….or find some less-than-graceful way to knock themselves off the mountain.
In my business, I think of the clergy colleague who had it working in spades. He had gifts. He had graces. He had promotions. He had followings. And he had brains….which, unfortunately, he chose to wear in his shorts. For there were rumblings. Softer, first. Louder, later. Rumblings of relationships less than kosher and passions less than pure. And when the rumblings became accusations….leading to confessions….leading to ecclesiastical actions….he was gone. And, unfortunately, forgotten.
But in talking about his situation, he did not talk about the lure of her flesh, the weakness of his flesh, or the mediocrity of his marriage. No, he talked about the anguish over his calling as a clergyman. He felt like someone going through the motions….although, as his congregation would have testified, he was very good at “motions.” But his heart wasn’t in it. So his mind wasn’t on it. Something in him wanted out of the ministry in the worst way. Which is what happened, don’t you see. He got out of the ministry in the worst way.
But as a counterpoint to the insecure and self-destructive ones, there are a hundred variations on the omnipotent and over-reaching ones. Some of whom are closet narcissists. Having deluded themselves into thinking they have come this way, largely by themselves, they begin thinking they do not need anybody….do not want anybody….feel no need to consult anybody…. and lose no sleep over the effects of their actions on anybody. Dipping way back in my memory, I recall a character in Herb Gardner’s marvelous play, A Thousand Clowns, saying to his brother: “In this world, Murray, people get spilled on. But I have developed a talent. I choose not to notice the stains.”
Eventually, however, narcissists disconnect. They isolate themselves from people who can help them (and speak “truth” to them)….while surrounding themselves with people who agree with them (because they owe their lives to them). There is also some evidence that highly intelligent people “disconnect” out of childhood resentment. They remember that, as children, brightness was not something to display, but something to hide. And now that they no longer have to hide it, they discover that they have never learned the skill (or the joy) in sharing it with anybody. Having risen above “them”….it is easy to say: “Who needs them?”
But omnipotence is also a product of arrogance. The arrogant ones are those who begin to think and act in God-like proportions. Having succeeded, they think they will always succeed. Having arrived, they are certain it is of their own doing. Having found ways of doing things that work, they question whether anybody else’s ways can….work, that is. They’ve done it. They deserve it. And they are entitled to everything that goes with it.
Including moral exemptions. Such people know there are rules. But they see themselves as numbered with the people who make them, rather than the people who are bound by them. Which is why the rules do not apply in their case. Not because they are immoral….or amoral. But because morality is a playing field that lies below their feet….where other people walk. In most cases, they agree with every rule they break. They speak in defense of every line they cross. But they do not recognize limits and boundaries that apply to others. Which, early on, makes them exciting, creative and charismatic. But which, later on, makes them delusional.
You want biblical examples? I’ll give you biblical examples. Look at virtually every king of Israel. Then go back for a longer look at David….and what Feinberg and Tarrant call “the Bathsheba Complex.” Then look at Eve and ask: “Why was the apple attractive?” Because it was red….yes. Ripe….yes. Forbidden….yes. Filled with vitamins of wisdom….yes. But more than that, because eating would put Eve’s knowledge of things on a par with God’s knowledge of things….ah, yes. Arrogance? Of course. Folly? You betcha.
Which brings me to George Roche III….about whom (as I got into this sermon) I decided to say less, not more. George has served as president of Hillsdale College since 1971. Admirably so. He took its endowment from $4 million (pocket money) to $172 million (serious money). He stabilized the student body. He created a national reputation by declaring that Hillsdale would no longer accept “even one dime” of government money (including scholarship money), given his fear of any strings that might come with it. He created a journal that was nationally known. And he arranged seminars that were nationally attended. What’s more, he invited the brightest and the best to lecture….to teach….to write. He even augmented the Board of Trustees with a pair of sweet Williams….Bennett and Buckley. And he never tired of trumpeting the slogan: “We are proving that integrity, values and courage can still triumph in a corrupt world. Hillsdale College is a monument to those beliefs.”
Which it probably is. And which George III (to this day) probably believes. Although, for many of those years, George was telling one story with his lips and another with his life. A quartet of facts are clear. He is gone….now. Divorced….now. Estranged from his son (George IV)….now. His daughter-in-law, Lissa, is dead….now.
Underneath the facts swirl the stories. Of a nineteen year affair with his daughter-in-law. Of a showdown with his son, where Lissa revealed the affair….revealed her plans to take her life…. and then did….on campus….in a drama that makes “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” read like a fairy tale.
I’ve met George….heard George….read George….admired George….even though I didn’t always agree with George. But never once, in collegiate governance circles, did I underestimate George. He was the brightest fish in his pond. He was the brightest light in his galaxy. But, with apologies to Jim Carrey, his choices were dumb and dumber. Shocking? Sure. Surprising? Not entirely.
Are such things inevitable? Of course they’re not inevitable. But they happen. I mean, Ford wouldn’t have brought Feinberg and Tarrant to Dearborn if they didn’t think there was cause to worry. Their goal in doing so was prevention. And Feinberg and Tarrant have a lot to say about prevention. They offer warning signs, checklists, coping mechanisms, that sort of thing. I don’t need to detail them. If you are interested, you can read them.
Instead, I would close with a pair of biblical words….“humility” and “grace.” Let’s start with humility.
Let not the wise ones glory in their wisdom….let not the rich ones glory in their wealth….let not the mighty ones glory in their might….but let those who glory, glory in this….that they understand and know me, says the Lord.
And how does one really understand anything? Well, I told you a few weeks back. But I have a feeling that, in the Christmas rush, it slipped by you. One understands by standing under. It’s a positioning thing, don’t you see. “Under God” is what I’m talking about. Because, in the last analysis, you cannot be what you are beneath. Which puts you in your place, more or less. But when you are “put in your place,” it’s amazing how many other things fall into place. More or less.
Humility first. Grace second. I have known a lot of people who have done dumb things. Some of them, really dumb things. And, to a person, there is a phrase that always surfaces in the retelling of their undoing. “I had it all (they say), and I threw it all away.” Well, maybe so. Most likely, so. But I have noticed that the throwing motion (by which life and its treasures are tossed here and there….hither and yon….to the winds….over the falls….down the tubes) leaves the arms strangely outstretched, and the hands uncharacteristically open. Which, as a posture, is uniquely useful for catching something. Like a line. Or a hand. From a friend. Or the Lord.
And, if I remember correctly, I was told that there were two rules that govern the art of catching. I was told to look it all the way into my hands. And I was told to cradle it all the way into my body. Or, as my friend said (the one whose brains were in his shorts): “Whatever else I lost….and I lost plenty….I found the love I had preached but never really known….until the day the Bishop said I could no longer preach it to others, which was the day I claimed it for myself.”
