Part 4 of a 4 part series from Lt. Matt Kosec AMCA Adjunct Partner of Criminal Justice and Public Sector Affairs, from his week of graduate studies in advanced servant leadership in a Benedictine Monastery.
“The servant always accepts and empathizes, never rejects. The servant as leader always empathizes, always accepts the person but sometimes refuses to accept some of the person’s effort or performance as good enough.”
-Robert K. Greenleaf
When I first arrived at St. Andrew’s Abbey it was impossible not to notice one or more of the 21 monks walking around in their distinctive black habits. Having never spent any time at a monastery I quickly lumped them into my image of a monk; pious, sincere, and forgiving. In my mind they were, of course, nearly perfect. How ironic – I bristle when someone lumps me into all of law enforcement when they see me in uniform. How easily one forgets. These pre-suppositions can also happen when we revere someone in a formal leadership position. It can be forgotten that they are individuals with personal struggles just like the rest of us.
The Rule of Benedict by which Benedictine monks structure their communities provides great power and authority to the Abbot. The Abbot is described as an individual who will be held accountable for the salvation of all members of the community. His raw power is balanced with an admonishment to always take counsel with all community members when making a decision and to use disciplinary power cautiously. The Abbot is elected by all of the monks, although there is no campaign associated with modern elections. In fact, an individual cannot be nominated or nominate himself. He is purely chosen by the community. As one of our instructors, John Horsman, Ph. D, described, “If you want the job, you probably aren’t eligible.”
St. Andrew’s Abbey is led by Abbot Damien. He is only four months into an eight year term. The monks honored us with a celebration dinner on the last night of our stay. Unlike the other meals taken in the same refectory but at separate tables from the monks, the festival dinner was purposefully set up so students would be interspersed with the monks. I was one of the last students to walk in and I noticed that while my fellow students had eagerly sat near and engaged the monks, Abbot Damien sat somewhat alone at the head of the table. I decided this was an excellent time to challenge my pre-suppositions concerning the formal leader of this organization.
The monks of St. Andrew’s Abbey were consummate hosts, and Abbot Damien was no exception. Like the other monks, he was soft-spoken and chose his words precisely. Once again I found myself listening very carefully and finding profound wisdom in nearly every word (well, except his one joke about Texas). The Abbot and I were able to quickly engage in a conversation about the parallels between monks and police officers, including my aforementioned discussion on my assumptions on monks and the monastic life.
Another monk had told me that an individual had spent three years at the community, the typical time before a monk takes his final vows. The individual was ready to commit to the community and had dreamed of doing so his entire life. He was prepared for the ultimate vow of stability. The problem was, however, the community had decided that he was not a right fit. A monk must be accepted by the entire community, not just the Abbot. This was explained to the individual and he finally left. Abbot Damien had made the final decision.
This event weighed heavily on Abbot Damien. He had contemplated, prayed, and consulted extensively. He understood that a decision to decline acceptance to the community would not only be heartbreaking to the individual, but it could also be misconstrued as commentary on his self-worth, piety, and commitment. None of those were in question; it was simply a matter of the community being able to make a lifelong commitment. Remember, these monks live, eat, and work every moment of their lives together.
Abbot Damien said that although it was an incredibly difficult decision to make, he knew he made the right one because it would benefit the individual in the long run. He knew it would require courage to have faith that this individual would have been disappointed with monastic life in this particular community. While Abbot Damien had to protect the best interest of the community, his bigger concern was the welfare of the individual. It was one of the most difficult decisions he had ever had to make because of the person’s lifelong commitment and dream of belonging to this religious order.
I drew another parallel with law enforcement. It is not uncommon for police departments to hire people who have held a lifelong dream of being a police officer. Often they purposefully studied criminal justice and took extensive steps to prepare themselves. On occasion, however, after the long academy and field training process they are separated from the organization. There are many reasons why it happens, but sometimes the newly hired officer cannot understand why they are being terminated. Like Abbot Damien, however, the police manager who makes the decision often does so with the best interest of both the department and the individual in mind.
One of my fellow Gonzaga University students, Andrew Burns, gave an excellent toast in which he listed character traits that we, as students, felt the monks helped us to form and develop. Afterward, Abbot Damien confided in me that he was uncomfortable when Andrew noted these traits. He explained that he did not think the monks provided this insight – he felt that all of us had carried those traits into the monastery with us. I thought for a moment and I agreed with him, however, I also suggested that he and his monks had drawn out those quality traits from within each of us. The monks, through their awareness and leadership, had called forth these traits and made us more whole. Abbot Damien chuckled and said, “You are right, but you know what Matt? You guys have also done that for us, as monks. That is why we love having you.” As an Abbot who carries heavy weight when making decisions about his people and who understands capacity to call forth the best of each person, Abbot Damien is clearly a servant leader from whom I learned a great deal from.
There is one other important point to note about this dinner conversation. When you sit next to the Abbot, you have access to the best beers in the room. And naturally, out of sheer politeness, I could not refuse his offer of a giant slice of chocolate cake.
Abbot Damien & Matt Kosec
Photo Credit: Sarah Medary |