“Submit yourselves one to another in the fear of the Lord” (Ephesians 5:21).

Some church leaders think “submission” applies only to  “those other people.”

Leaders must submit also.

Submission can take many forms. It may mean to accept advice, to be teachable, to be willing to receive correction, and to follow your God-given shepherd.  When necessary, it may mean to stand up like a man (figure of speech, ladies) and apologize.

Our Lord was not above submitting.  “…Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example that you should follow His steps… Who, when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but committed Himself to Him who judges righteously; who Himself bore our sins in His own body…” (I Peter 2:23ff.)

He washed the feet of the disciples, the lowliest job imaginable.  Then He said, “If I then your Lord and Teacher have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet” (John 13:14).  Then, lest anyone should miss the point, He added,  “For I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you.”

The word is not used in either place, but the message is clear: Jesus submitted to the most unworthy of people–sinners like you and me!–for the sake of our salvation.

Here’s my story, pastors.

We were having a problem with deacons.  Most were faithful and hard-working, but half dozen or so refused to play by the rules.  They were resistant to any leadership from the pastor and kept insisting that Scripture put them in charge of church affairs.  When the deacon body brought a recommendation before the congregation, these men would often stand and oppose it.  Got that? They are standing in an open forum countering the very proposals their own group is recommending.

When they began slandering me with certain members of the congregation, it was time to act.

I asked the leadership of the deacons to deal with this.  The three officers met and agreed that these men were out of line and working contrary to Scripture, and that the situation could not be allowed to continue.

What they recommended was the last thing I expected.

“Pastor,” they said, “we want you to visit in the homes of all 24 deacons.  Share with them your vision for the church.  Then, ask each deacon and his wife if you have offended them in any way. Ask if you have failed them when they needed you.  Give each one the opportunity to respond.  Listen to them.”

“Thereafter,” they said, “if we hear that any of them are working to undermine your leadership, we will deal with it promptly.”

They agreed they were asking a lot from me.

I reluctantly consented to make the visits in order to achieve harmony in the church.

Over the next few weeks, I made the visits, two or three a night.

That was years ago, but something happened today to remind me.

I was dropping off a load of books in the donation boxes of our public library.  As I unloaded the trunk of the car, one book in particular caught my attention.  “Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak” by Robert E. Fisher, has a little history with me.

Inside the front cover is this note:

“Today (10-31-1998) I agreed to visit with all 24 deacons & wives to listen to them. A few hours later I found this book in West Jefferson Hospital gift shop. Timely.”

That day at the hospital on the other side of the river from New Orleans, I had paused in the gift shop to scan the books, then selected this one up and read a story.

I bought the book for that one story.

Fisher tells how when he was in Bible college on the west coast, he was trying to become a good conversationalist. Nothing seemed to work until he read the Dale Carnegie book “How to Win Friends and Influence People.”  The best way to become a good conversationalist, said the author, was by listening to people. That was the opposite of what young Fisher had expected.

Since his girlfriend lived 250 miles away and Fisher was without a car, he would be hitch-hiking to her home the following Saturday. He decided that would be a good time to practice what he was learning about listening.

The first car that stopped to give him a ride, the driver started talking and Fisher worked hard to pay attention. To his surprise, the man kept right on talking.

When they reached the point where the man had intended to let him out, he told young Fisher, “You’ll never be able to catch a ride here. I’d better take you over the mountain.”

The man kept talking.

Occasionally, when the conversation lulled, Fisher would ask a question. But for the most part, the driver did all the talking.

The more he talked, the more the man drove.  Finally, he drove right up to Fisher’s girlfriend’s house. He had driven the college student the entire 250 miles.

As Robert Fisher got out of his car, the driver said, “Young man, you are absolutely one of the best conversationalists I’ve ever met!”

During all that time, the man had not even asked Fisher’s name.

A great lesson well learned.

And one about which the Lord has had to work on me constantly. .

A year or two after finding the book, a professor at our New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary called. “Joe, we’re putting together a textbook on interpersonal relationship skills for ministers. We would like you to write one of the chapters.”

I said, “What’s my subject?”

When he said, “Learning to listen,” I laughed out loud.

“Why?” he asked. “Is anything wrong?”

I said, “My friend, the Lord has been beating me up about this very subject.  I have at least six books on the subject of learning to listen.”

He said, “Then you’re the one to write the chapter.”

And so I did.

For me, submission may mean something as simple as stifling the tendency to outtalk everyone else in the room, controlling the urge to top your story with one of my own, and resisting the need to fill silence with talk.

Submission is hard.

That’s why only the strong can submit.

ADDENDUM–

Several have asked how the matter with the deacons turned out.  Since the issue was my yielding to do the actual visitation and listen to them rather than the problem itself, I clearly did not think it important to mention that. However, the matter worked out well. After that, we never had a problem with any of those deacons. None were ever elected again and one or two moved away. My last years in that church were the best ones.

I will admit, however, that from time to time I have wondered if the deacon leadership, in asking me to visit everyone and start with a clean slate, actually punted rather than do their duty. But that’s hard to know.  Biblically, yielding does not depend on the other side having the superior reasoning.

Someone asked Marilyn vos Savant in the “Dear Marilyn” column in Parade Magazine, “Why should I compromise when I know I’m in the right?” She answered, “Because if you only compromise when the other fellow is in the right, that’s not compromise but yielding to the superior position.  Compromise–yielding to the other guy for the common good–does not depend on which one is right.”

It’s a huge subject.