|
|
|
Theocracy or democracy?
Church bylaws present a special case in the world of organizing documents. In a secular nonprofit that uses a standard parliamentary procedure, the bylaws are the highest authority after the Articles of Incorporation. They are the organization’s most important governance document. Some Western churches, however, use a different approach because they look to the denomination as a higher authority than their individual documents, and the denomination looks to the teachings of its faith as the highest authority of all. Bylaws look very different in a church that uses a congregational decisionmaking model (the congregation takes a vote) than in one that uses a theocratic model (the pastor has the final say). The question you will need to decide for your center is this: who has the ultimate authority over its actions?
The question is one of accountability, and it can be a thorny thicket in the case of American Soto Zen, where few centers are formally affiliated with the denomination and there may be nowhere to turn for outside assistance in mediating issues of authority. Some Western churches have found a middle ground between theocracy and democracy by making their ministers accountable to a pre-determined set of outside pastors. These are churches which are not comfortable giving the clergy free rein to become dictators, and are also not comfortable making their ordained ministers take direction from untrained or inexperienced laity, whether directors or the congregation. Japan’s hōrui system, in which an outside clergyperson is asked to sit on the board, provides a similar source of accountability; you may wish to get together with other Zen centers in your area or in your lineage and formally establish a partnership that provides advice and support for each other. Doing this in advance of a large problem arising in one of your centers means that all of you know where to turn for help when you need it.
The question is one of accountability, and it can be a thorny thicket in the case of American Soto Zen, where few centers are formally affiliated with the denomination and there may be nowhere to turn for outside assistance in mediating issues of authority. Some Western churches have found a middle ground between theocracy and democracy by making their ministers accountable to a pre-determined set of outside pastors. These are churches which are not comfortable giving the clergy free rein to become dictators, and are also not comfortable making their ordained ministers take direction from untrained or inexperienced laity, whether directors or the congregation. Japan’s hōrui system, in which an outside clergyperson is asked to sit on the board, provides a similar source of accountability; you may wish to get together with other Zen centers in your area or in your lineage and formally establish a partnership that provides advice and support for each other. Doing this in advance of a large problem arising in one of your centers means that all of you know where to turn for help when you need it.
Recognizing and avoiding “Founder’s Syndrome”
When a center is founded by a leader with a strong personality, the organization that develops around him or her may begin to be driven by that personality, rather than by the overall mission. This leader could be the head cleric, but could also be the board president or the administrator. While it is true that the board should support the work of these leaders in the accomplishment of the mission, this is not its only function. In a Zen center, it’s important for everyone to be clear about this, especially if the chief executive is also the head cleric and some or all of the board members are his or her disciples. The board of directors has a set of responsibilities that are distinct and complementary. A board that simply approves all of a leader’s proposals without doing its own thoughtful consideration and discussion is not fulfilling its function and is in danger of falling into Founder’s Syndrome. The relationship between the board and the executive should not be adversarial, but directors have a responsibility to determine whether proposed actions will lead toward or away from the center’s mission and vision, and the person making the proposal has a responsibility to explain the rationale behind the initiative and to relate it directly to center goals.
During the startup phase, when only a few people are involved with the operation of the center, decisionmaking sometimes happens in a reactive way and is greatly influenced by individual personal styles. This approach might be necessary and appropriate in the beginning in order to get things off the ground. A visionary leader is important to putting together the financial support and personal relationships necessary to get the center started.
However, the dynamics start to change as the center’s scope widens and the number of people involved in the organization increases. Decisionmaking must become more decentralized in order to accommodate both practitioners’ input and the growing workload. In these sometimes-uncomfortable circumstances, the founder may fall into patterns that ultimately undermine the center’s stability. He or she may feel that center-wide planning and input is unnecessary and restrictive, and instead just reacts as an individual to whatever comes along. Maybe he or she is more interested in program ideas or in daily practice than in administration or center development. When the founder does add people in leadership roles, he or she may personally hand-pick the board members who are invited to serve or the staff who are hired, with the result that these folks feel that they work for the founder rather than for the center or the sangha as a whole. Those practitioners or directors who are deferential and compliant are kept in the inner circle, while anyone who disagrees with the founder is marginalized. The result of these patterns is that the center becomes dependent not on its own stable systems and structures, but on the individual personality of one leader. As the center grows, it just can’t continue to effectively meet practitioners’ needs and move toward accomplishing its mission if the founder is the only one leading the charge.
If the founder can’t let go and make the transition from driving the organization by the force of personality to partnering with the board and key personnel to manage through solid planning and shared responsibility, the center will become unstable, lurching from crisis to crisis and never seeming to gain a foothold. Plans may be made but never carried out, it may seem that there is never enough money, turnover among practitioners and board members is high, and no one really knows what’s going on.
The founder doesn’t create this situation by him- or herself. No one sets out to start a center and then damage it in this way. Board members, key volunteers, practice officers and others often buy into this syndrome. Maybe they are afraid of the founder, or perhaps the founder is also their teacher and they believe that they owe him or her their unconditional obedience and loyalty. Sometimes they feel powerless or detached from their roles at the center, and just let things go along without speaking up.
Eventually, someone may be concerned enough to go to the board (or to the clergy or administrator, if the founder is a board member) about the center’s recurring problems. The founder may feel like he or she is under siege, become defensive, and start blaming others for the way things are going. Unless the founder can step back, reevaluate his or her role in the organization and accept some help, things can’t get better. The sangha may split into factions, with some folks supporting the founder and others favoring his or her removal. The founder may indeed leave the center, and some of the practitioners may leave as well, either to follow the ousted leader or just to be away from the conflict and upheaval. As Robert Booth Fowler observes,
Conflict at church or synagogue is very unpopular. And the perception of intrachurch conflict leads directly to membership declines. People do not to go church for the excitement of conflict. They go in good part for community defined as harmony with the universe and fellowship with others. People commonly perceive conflict at church as a statement that the institution has failed in a basic way, that it cannot fulfill a need that led them there in the first place. [43]
In the worst case, there’s not enough left of the center for the sangha to survive, and the organization folds.
It takes a mature and self-aware founder to ask for and accept the support of others, and to work toward appropriately distributed authority and responsibility. The board, staff and other key personnel must help and support each other to recognize danger signs, pause and evaluate the health of the center, and engage in training and learning that keeps them effective in their roles. In this way, the center makes a successful transition into a more mature organizational model.
When a center is founded by a leader with a strong personality, the organization that develops around him or her may begin to be driven by that personality, rather than by the overall mission. This leader could be the head cleric, but could also be the board president or the administrator. While it is true that the board should support the work of these leaders in the accomplishment of the mission, this is not its only function. In a Zen center, it’s important for everyone to be clear about this, especially if the chief executive is also the head cleric and some or all of the board members are his or her disciples. The board of directors has a set of responsibilities that are distinct and complementary. A board that simply approves all of a leader’s proposals without doing its own thoughtful consideration and discussion is not fulfilling its function and is in danger of falling into Founder’s Syndrome. The relationship between the board and the executive should not be adversarial, but directors have a responsibility to determine whether proposed actions will lead toward or away from the center’s mission and vision, and the person making the proposal has a responsibility to explain the rationale behind the initiative and to relate it directly to center goals.
During the startup phase, when only a few people are involved with the operation of the center, decisionmaking sometimes happens in a reactive way and is greatly influenced by individual personal styles. This approach might be necessary and appropriate in the beginning in order to get things off the ground. A visionary leader is important to putting together the financial support and personal relationships necessary to get the center started.
However, the dynamics start to change as the center’s scope widens and the number of people involved in the organization increases. Decisionmaking must become more decentralized in order to accommodate both practitioners’ input and the growing workload. In these sometimes-uncomfortable circumstances, the founder may fall into patterns that ultimately undermine the center’s stability. He or she may feel that center-wide planning and input is unnecessary and restrictive, and instead just reacts as an individual to whatever comes along. Maybe he or she is more interested in program ideas or in daily practice than in administration or center development. When the founder does add people in leadership roles, he or she may personally hand-pick the board members who are invited to serve or the staff who are hired, with the result that these folks feel that they work for the founder rather than for the center or the sangha as a whole. Those practitioners or directors who are deferential and compliant are kept in the inner circle, while anyone who disagrees with the founder is marginalized. The result of these patterns is that the center becomes dependent not on its own stable systems and structures, but on the individual personality of one leader. As the center grows, it just can’t continue to effectively meet practitioners’ needs and move toward accomplishing its mission if the founder is the only one leading the charge.
If the founder can’t let go and make the transition from driving the organization by the force of personality to partnering with the board and key personnel to manage through solid planning and shared responsibility, the center will become unstable, lurching from crisis to crisis and never seeming to gain a foothold. Plans may be made but never carried out, it may seem that there is never enough money, turnover among practitioners and board members is high, and no one really knows what’s going on.
The founder doesn’t create this situation by him- or herself. No one sets out to start a center and then damage it in this way. Board members, key volunteers, practice officers and others often buy into this syndrome. Maybe they are afraid of the founder, or perhaps the founder is also their teacher and they believe that they owe him or her their unconditional obedience and loyalty. Sometimes they feel powerless or detached from their roles at the center, and just let things go along without speaking up.
Eventually, someone may be concerned enough to go to the board (or to the clergy or administrator, if the founder is a board member) about the center’s recurring problems. The founder may feel like he or she is under siege, become defensive, and start blaming others for the way things are going. Unless the founder can step back, reevaluate his or her role in the organization and accept some help, things can’t get better. The sangha may split into factions, with some folks supporting the founder and others favoring his or her removal. The founder may indeed leave the center, and some of the practitioners may leave as well, either to follow the ousted leader or just to be away from the conflict and upheaval. As Robert Booth Fowler observes,
Conflict at church or synagogue is very unpopular. And the perception of intrachurch conflict leads directly to membership declines. People do not to go church for the excitement of conflict. They go in good part for community defined as harmony with the universe and fellowship with others. People commonly perceive conflict at church as a statement that the institution has failed in a basic way, that it cannot fulfill a need that led them there in the first place. [43]
In the worst case, there’s not enough left of the center for the sangha to survive, and the organization folds.
It takes a mature and self-aware founder to ask for and accept the support of others, and to work toward appropriately distributed authority and responsibility. The board, staff and other key personnel must help and support each other to recognize danger signs, pause and evaluate the health of the center, and engage in training and learning that keeps them effective in their roles. In this way, the center makes a successful transition into a more mature organizational model.