Recently our firm worked with a very impressive organization. It was probably number two or three in a field that is technical enough that I'm not sure I completely understand what the company does-but I know they do it really well.

The teams were made up of an interesting mix of globalyoung adults. As they went around the table introducing themselves, it went something like this: "I'm twenty-six, was born in the Azores, and lived between there and Portugal as a child. Since then, I have worked in India and the U.K., and now I run the Sydney office."

It didn't seem like it was a good time to let them know I grew up in the same house in Whittier, California, that my mother just moved out of a few years ago. Yup, the world is flat.

Anyway, we spent two days with this dynamic group, and the one thing we never heard was fear. This fast growing company (which is a bit of an understatement), with offices in six different countries and linking global communication, was made up of the most curious lot I've ever worked with-and I don't mean to imply that they were odd, but rather full of curiosity.

The questions they asked, both about organizational direction and personal leadership behaviors, were not tinged with protectiveness, hesitancy, or apprehension. With an abandon we rarely see, they threw themselves into the offsite work we gave them.

Midmorning of our second day, the company's CEO stood up and gave a quick update on an acquisition that had the potential to ignite an already catalytic company. He spoke for only seven or eight minutes, but I could see where the team got their confidence. Or at least why, as confident people, they were attracted to this organization and this leader.

In just a short time, he reminded the group of the courage that had gotten them to this point, the opportunity that this acquisition provided, and his confidence in this direction for the company. His demeanor and tone were kind and poised. He had an air of curiosity that demonstrated itself in the wonder he communicated about the future.

There it was again, that inverse relationship between curiosity and fear. This was a culture of curiosity. There was little fear.

Sometimes it is is the leader who incites the fear. And not always in fire-breathing, angry, or obvious ways. We are currently working with a team that is at a critical juncture. If they cannot stand up to their leader, I am not convinced they will make it. They are afraid of him. At meetings they shut down, nod their heads even when they don't agree, and in general, have given up. the leader who incites the fear. And not always in fire-breathing, angry, or obvious ways. We are currently working with a team that is at a critical juncture. If they cannot stand up to their leader, I am not convinced they will make it. They are afraid of him. At meetings they shut down, nod their heads even when they don't agree, and in general, have given up.

Their very strong sense is that the leader weighs every decision they make against what he he would have decided. And to the degree that their decisions and opinions don't line up with his, he says they are wrong and that he can't trust them. The team members are tired and worn out. would have decided. And to the degree that their decisions and opinions don't line up with his, he says they are wrong and that he can't trust them. The team members are tired and worn out.

The leader is charming and charismatic, and perhaps that is why it has taken them so long to figure out they're afraidof him. But the entire team is almost completely disengaged at this point, always trying to second-guess whatthe leader would choose rather than using that energy to research and debate fresh, new directions.

Fear deteriorates our high-level thinking capacities.

Fear, even just biologically, causes a fight-or-flight response from us. When we sense or antic.i.p.ate the presence of danger, our adrenal glands and autonomic nervous systems respond in unconscious ways that propel us to either engage in a power struggle of attacking and blaming or to avoid and withdraw into resulting apathy.

Fear deteriorates our high-level thinking capacities lodged in our cerebral cortex (where logic and collaboration reside) and forces our reactions to emerge from our lower-level midbrain. Our cerebral cortex is our Ph.D. uncle, the one who is wise, reasonable, and dresses smartly. Our midbrain is our second cousin once removed who is missing two of his front teeth and drinks heavily.

Fear guarantees that second cousin Jethro will determine the culture of your organization.

Whatever you can do to recognize the level of fear that permeates your organization is a good thing. Moving from fear to curiosity has the potential to unlock all kinds of good things.

When people are released from anxiety and dread, they are freed up to create, innovate, and learn. Rather thanbeing guarded, they openly consider what mistakes they may have made, how they can grow and be different, and what new ideas may emerge over time as their teams becomefertile ground for new levels of creativity.

Moving from fear to curiosity has the potential to unlock all kinds of good things.

Curiosity diminishes apprehension and trepidation. It fuels connections and understanding. It asks questions before it makes statements. It carries with it a sense of wonder and possibility and power that is deeply motivating and attractive. People like to be around genuinely curious people. There is a sense that although these people don't yet have the final answer, they would love it if you joined them in the journey of discovery. Who wouldn't want to work with someone like that?

Curiosity allows us to autopsy results that were less than we antic.i.p.ated. Defensiveness and rationalization give way to learning and truth and growth. Risk taking is encouraged in curious climates, as is imagining and celebrating successes. Curiosity makes way for collabora- tion and antic.i.p.ation of remarkable outcomes that we have only dreamed of before.

Perhaps the invitation to collaborate is one of the most powerful things that emerges from curiosity. Wondering what others would think, how they would solve this problem, what their contribution might be, and how that might add to a better outcome.

This is a very simple example. One of many. Early on at our time at Willow Creek, our senior pastor designed a ten-week series called "Yeah, G.o.d! Thanks for being ________." For ten weeks Bill wanted to unpack some of the key attributes of G.o.d in this creative format. But rather than sit in his office determining by himself what those ten attributes would be, he asked a bunch of us for ideas.

Instead of worrying he might not get the answers he wanted, he just invited people to respond to the t.i.tle statement.

Curiosity diminishes apprehension and trepidation.

One of my suggestions-"Yeah, G.o.d! Thanks for being an equal opportunity employer"-was selected for the series. Each week, a banner was hung on the stage listing a different attribute of G.o.d. By the end of the series, ten different banners, all declaring the goodness of G.o.d, hung from the auditorium ceiling.

Here's why this is a very simple example. This was not a huge deal. No one knew that was my contribution. I wasn't asked to preach that sermon. As I recall, they asked some guy named John Ortberg to do that. I didn't tell anyone it had been my idea.

But I'll tell you what did happen. Every week after that sermon, when I looked up and saw that banner hanging there, I welled up a bit inside. I was so proud and happy that I was able to contribute. I got to help. I got to be a part of creating and designing something that had an impact on people and showed them G.o.d more clearly. I know, it was just a t.i.tle.

But it was also a message. This was a place, an organization, a community, where the curiosity of the leader and of the culture would make room for me. I could play here. I didn't need or want to be the only one doing it, I just wanted to be an active part. Curiosity is pretty powerful stuff. Perhaps not for cats, but definitely for mongooses.

As we talked about in the last chapter, Scot McKnight writes that people basically are open to change in two cir-c.u.mstances: on a quest or in a crisis. When self-motivated people go on a quest, they are open to new information. The journey presumes adventure and learning. In leadership development, we are looking for people like this. As leaders, we want to be people on a quest. The journey in vokes a kind of inquisitiveness that causes a person to be full of questions and thoughtfulness.

A crisis is a bit of a different animal. How we respond in one is a sort of barometer of our internal cores. In addition to that, if we respond to crisis with curiosity, we begin to ask the important questions: Where is G.o.d in this? What will G.o.d do? What will I learn about G.o.d that I do not already know?

These are questions that deepen our faith and shape our leadership. Of course, some crises are so intense that our only response is a dark night of the soul that reflects our despair. And sometimes our best response is that quiet humility that asks no questions, the painful crying out to G.o.d, and stillness.

But there are other times, when the crisis is just under the threshold of hopelessness, that the curiosity factor can kick in and transform our responses. Over time, a leader who responds to crises with curiosity will begin to infuse a confidence in the organization. Obstacles are not as formidable when one is calmly asking questions and considering what an appropriate response ought to be. This confidence is necessary and contagious.

This is another thing that Max DePree has taught me. (If you are not already sick of that phrase, you will be by the end of this book. Actually, come to think of it, I should probably give Max a percentage of every book sold. Note to self: As soon as my last kid graduates from college, I will do that.) Max taught me that asking questions is one of the most important tasks of a leader, but more importantly, a good leader must start by figuring out the right questions. It's not good enough just to ask questions. The right right questions are necessary in order to guarantee the right answers. So it becomes the necessary work of a leader to spend time thinking: Are we asking the right questions? questions are necessary in order to guarantee the right answers. So it becomes the necessary work of a leader to spend time thinking: Are we asking the right questions?

Recently one of my partners and I were working with a potential client. Their team was encountering problems in the areas of decision making and accountability. They wanted to schedule a one-day session focusing on goal setting, and they sent us some team testing they had done the year prior.

We talked with the team leaders for a while, listening to their stories and asking some salient questions. Then we told them that just setting goals was not their main problem.

"I don't think that whether you make this event a one-day or a two-day experience is the most important question," said my partner, David. "I think the most important question here is 'What will you do with whatever results and information we give you?'"

Clearly after they had done the team a.s.sessments a yearprior, those beautifully colored and charted pages had found their way into a notebook and had sat there for the year. They already had information that had the potential to transform their team, and they had done nothing with it. Now they were calling us, a different consulting firm, to ask for help.

And even more than just getting paid, we want to work with motivated teams that are bent on transformation. Just a little shift in the question turns the thinking around 180 degrees.

what's Barcelona Got to Do with It?

FOR MANY YEARS, BARCELONA was rarely a first-stop tourist destination. Instead, it was the kind of place that usually got added onto the end of a trip when travelers had a few extra days to spare or needed a place to spend the night before catching a plane. was rarely a first-stop tourist destination. Instead, it was the kind of place that usually got added onto the end of a trip when travelers had a few extra days to spare or needed a place to spend the night before catching a plane.

But recently, Barcelona's reputation has been changing. In 2000, approximately twenty million travelers crisscrossed the Barcelona airport. A mere six years later that number grew to thirty million. Today, Barcelona is the number-two tourist destination in Europe.

So what happened?

The 1992 Summer Olympics. I find it very interesting that something that happened in 1992 could have such stunning repercussions fourteen years later.1 Let's start there. Let's start there.

Leaders, we are an impatient lot. Faster is better, quick is good, speed is our constant companion. Isn't it funny how something so necessary can also be so detrimental? And here we are, back to managing tensions. Leaders need impatience. Living with a sense of urgency is part of our wiring; it's also a very appropriate response to both creating momentum and reacting to a hurt and damaged world.

However, impatience and urgency can wound people, elicit second-rate decisions, and cause us to cut corners in ways that subst.i.tute short-term wins for long-term change. The best way to overcome these issues is not to slow down to a turtle's pace, but rather to add to our leader's repertoire the beauty and strength of perseverance, patience, and endurance. And to know what to use when.

Everyone I worked with in the emergency room understood this ch.o.r.eographed dance of urgency and patience. In that department, there was this almost explosive sense of speed, alongside methodical, ordered precision that, when fused together, yielded life. That is the dance of the leader.

1 Information about Barcelona in this chapter is taken from Christine Spolar, "Barcelona Shows What Olympics Can Mean," Chicago Tribune, August 12, 2007. Information about Barcelona in this chapter is taken from Christine Spolar, "Barcelona Shows What Olympics Can Mean," Chicago Tribune, August 12, 2007.

Okay, back to Barcelona.

Getting the city ready to host the Summer Games was all about the Olympics. But it ended up becoming the springboard for the city's future. I don't think anyone on the planning committee was thinking, And while we're at it, let's leverage this preparation to create a Barcelona that will move into the future as one of the top cities in Europe! And while we're at it, let's leverage this preparation to create a Barcelona that will move into the future as one of the top cities in Europe!

But often, that's what happens when you revitalize something. It has ripple effects far beyond what you were expecting. In Bible times, especially in the Old Testament, the reinvigorating of a city was cause for celebration in the people and in the country. It was a sign of the life of G.o.d breathed fresh.

For Barcelona, the work of rebirth paid off. Not only were the 1992 Olympics judged by many to be among the best of the modern games, but the subsequent propulsion of Barcelona into the category of top cities was a lasting result of that city's efforts.

Preparing the city required a Herculean overhaul, not just a fresh coat of paint and a new stadium. And for a long time the people of Barcelona endured the chaos, inconvenience, and noise that they hoped would ready their beloved home for the eyes of the world.

With the clock ticking, they tore out old warehouses and reclaimed industrial wastelands that had once been oceanfront properties. Engineers and architects and construction workers labored, building an infrastructure of highways, access routes, pools, and tracks. State-of-the-art stadiums were constructed, bus routes were added, gardens were planted.

Urban planning was integrated with Olympic preparation, and the result was that Barcelona, a city of living neighborhoods, put its best face on for the world to see. A city was overhauled from the inside out, and the best of Barcelona, its boroughs and fifty thousand volunteer "amba.s.sadors for the city" were ama.s.sed to add hospitality to what the visitors would experience when they came for the games.

Before the Olympic torch was even lit, the city's historic Gothic churches, lively tapas bars, and art collections were spotlighted. While the 1992 games lured guests into this transformed city, the revitalization kept them coming for years to follow.

Sometimes a major overhaul is exactly what is needed. I can't tell you when that is true. Believe me, if there were a formula for this stuff, I would either be following it myself or writing a book about it and living in Tahiti.

More than orchestrating major overhauls, however, good leaders must always try to keep the big picture at the forefront of their minds, all the while directing and integrating the individual components with the whole. Components that when left to stand alone would be no more than small movements, but that together create seismic shifts.

Prior to 1992, somebody in Barcelona was sitting in meetings saying, "Okay, let's talk about the engineering issues and figure out how each of these transportation changes will support the whole-where the stadiums are being built and where the hotels are.

"What are our costs and time schedules, and are they reasonably aggressive? Will these changes support the capacity we are antic.i.p.ating?

"Now, what about the gardens, the landscaping, the restaurants, and the footpaths?

"Are we revitalizing our city without losing its heart and soul?" These people were discussing, deciding, and implementing the parts while weaving them into the whole. They were doing the looking behind and looking ahead that all great leaders must do. Honoring the past, holding on to the values that created the best of it, and all the while carving out a future that is better.

Sometimes a major overhaul is needed.

It's easy to read about Barcelona's success and overlook the painful chaos and unclear outcomes that accompany such major overhauls. To be naive about what it feels like in the middle.

But the middle is where leading gets hard. It's whenyou're so far into it that you can't remember what it was that first convinced you this was all necessary, but you are too far from the end to see the light.

But when the end result is Barcelona, it provides a beautiful and inspirational rearview-mirror glance that reminds us just how worth it it was to keep going.

Sometimes a major overhaul is needed.

I was at a church recently that had just emerged from that tunnel. This church had a history of resistance to change. I know that's hard to imagine,but stick with me. They had many people on staff who shouldn't have been, a long history of never talking about giving, and a comfort level with the way things were that was impressive.

The congregation was doing nothing but growing older, both in age and viewpoints. The average attendee was old. The facilities were old. The style of worship was old. Then, through a convergence of conditions seemingly orchestrated by the Holy Spirit, things began to change. And it wasn't the kind of incremental, safe change that replaces the bulletin's white paper with beige or buys new crayons for the children's room. No, not that kind. We're talking Barcelona.

Not everyone liked it, but over the course of about six months, six or seven key leaders were appropriately invited to either get on board with the new direction or find another place to serve. New staff members with fresh eyes and fresh spirits were brought on, changing the texture of the leadership community. The pastor began talking about giving, and this church embarked on its first capital giving campaign in over thirty years.

Multisite video venues were started within a twenty-mile radius of the main church campus, along with two church plants in nearby communities. The scale of change was enormous.

The change was conducted in a highly collaborative but directive way. Input was encouraged at many points, but at the same time the leadership team refused to abdicate its responsibility for leading. The congregation was well informed and included when appropriate, but there was never any doubt that this change was to be permanent. This church was never going back to the way it was before.

Any other questions?

And it was all embedded in the gospel. Every bit of it. Jesus at the center and an authentic relationship with a good and great G.o.d led to transformational discipleship and vibrant evangelism. The desire to provide a positive atmosphere for their children and visitors led to refurbishing the children's rooms. The desire to touch lives in a new way created multiple sites and church plants throughout the community.

The budgets were a stretch, but not unnecessarily extravagant. An ambitious budget was added for missions, both locally and internationally. Sweeping revisions, startling change.

I recently attended their weekend services, and they were celebrating some of these things. The capital campaign had just tallied up the "beyond t.i.thes" commitments, and found that they were 30 percent over their target. The room erupted with applause when this was announced at each service.

That same weekend, they showed a video from their first church plant, which was launching that day approximately twenty miles away. People cheered and clapped as they watched those folks set up and get ready for their first weekend service. And then the pastor gave one of the most powerful sermons on G.o.d I've heard in a long time.

Fresh winds.

A new day, new ways of doing the ancient church.

Yet still clinging to the values and cementing the core. G.o.d's Spirit is always making room for more at the table.

Barcelona in our backyards.

In addition to all the glorious things we talked about at the beginning of this chapter, great leadership enabled Barcelona to pay off the construction costs two years early with the steady stream of sports revenue that came out of Olympic and the post-Olympic stadium use.

Two years early. No one had predicted that. It was simply an unexpected outcome of a job well done. But there's also another side to the Barcelona story. In the midst of all the amazing things, both during the Olympics and now in the ensuing tourism the city enjoys, a few things got lost. While Barcelona was shining, six hundred and twenty-four people were displaced from their homes. With the sweeping changes, the neglected waterfront and its affordable, albeit decrepit, housing was swept away. People lost their homes.

It may be tempting at this point to overlook that fact by comparing it to the glittering results and running the numbers: six hundred twenty-four people versus millions. But that's too easy.

In addition to those initially displaced, hundreds more poor and elderly residents have since been forced out due to increasing housing prices. Beyond housing, the airport, once sufficient for the needs of Barcelona, quickly surpa.s.sed its capacity and now shows significant signs of strain and cracks.

So all the good stuff . . . well, it's only part of the story. The planners missed some things. They overlooked several important issues. In the midst of a complete overhaul, some things slipped through the cracks. Barcelona isn't a complete success story. It's a whole story. It's a place where some truly remarkable things happened and are happening. And it's a place where some not-so-good things happened and are happening.

But here's the deal. If they could transform the city to the degree they did, then we know they have the ability and power to fix the low-income housing and the airport as well. Absolutely. The same ingenuity, forethought, and planning that made Barcelona the number-two travel destination can certainly get its arms around these issues and tackle them. Probably in a very impressive way.

Leadership is about living in that tension between the beautiful, successful, transformed Barcelona and and the displaced, overlooked, poor Barcelona. It is not one story or the other; it is both. Good leadership changes things. Relentlessly. Significantly. And after it celebrates the movement, it takes another look to see what might have been overlooked. Then good leadership goes at it again. the displaced, overlooked, poor Barcelona. It is not one story or the other; it is both. Good leadership changes things. Relentlessly. Significantly. And after it celebrates the movement, it takes another look to see what might have been overlooked. Then good leadership goes at it again.

I just got back from speaking at a church leadership conference in Germany, a country where 4 percent of the population attends church. After the conference, I preached on Sunday in a church of nearly three hundred people, a megachurch by Germany's standards. Just a few years ago, they had averaged around seventy people. I was curious as to what had transpired between then and now.

Apparently, they had begun to outgrow the building they were meeting in, so they started looking around and found a great deal on an abandoned American tank warehouse from World War II. Great irony there. They were able to purchase the larger s.p.a.ce, and began gutting the building. All of a sudden, thenew activity and the possibilities for the future began to inspire people. People in the church stepped forward and began to design the interior of the building, teach cla.s.ses, and lead home groups. They used this new era to invite their neighbors and friends, and amazingly, people who up to this point had been uninterested agreed to come to church. They, too, had been watching the transformations and they were intrigued.

Good leadership changes things.

Relentlessly. Significantly. Significantly.

Something in all of that change had captured people's attention. That is what the gospel does: It captures people's attention. That's what was going on in Acts 2 as well. People watched and were attracted-the gospel as a magnet.

Now, let me be clear about what I am not not saying. The gospel is not about a building program. In fact, there are many churches that shouldn't do a building program. A lot of times, far too much of church budgets are being spent on buildings. saying. The gospel is not about a building program. In fact, there are many churches that shouldn't do a building program. A lot of times, far too much of church budgets are being spent on buildings.

Buildings are important, but they are not the gospel. My point is not about structures but about change. Sometimes we need to shake things up, to make large-scale changes that get people's attention.

In 1 Thessalonians, Paul says that the gospel came to the people not just in word, but also in power. I want our churches to be places where the power of the gospel is seen and felt both organizationally and individually.

When John and I moved into the area where we are currently living, scores of people told us about one particular neighborhood restaurant. The reports were glowing, and the name popped up so often that we knew we wanted to try it. Each time we drove by it, we talked about going in. When we finally stopped and had dinner there, it was a wonderful experience. And then, we became part of that group of people who were always encouraging others to go there.

Interesting progression that ought to cause us to think.

ch . . . ch . . . ch . . . Changes.