The Leaders Edge

In The School Of Death

By Earl Creps

Death is such a capable instructor. What leadership lessons can it teach us?

My father died recently. After a 10-year struggle with Alzheimer’s, Dad was sent home from the hospital to spend the rest of his life with his family. It has been a long time since he knew who I was. But I knew who he was, and that is what counted.

The final season of his passing lasted about 5 days. I flew to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to be with him and the rest of my family at the end. One afternoon my mother called us from the patio into the former parsonage where I grew up. My father’s life had ended quietly in a hospital bed parked in the living room.

Everyone was there. We took time to say good-bye before the police/EMT/funeral home part of things started up. About an hour later, the hospital bed was empty and our new lives had begun, minus our father.

Until this time, I was unaware that death was such a capable instructor. What I learned from being with Dad at the end is more about questions than answers.

This Is All Over In A Hurry

My father spent 42 years in pastoral ministry, 30 of those years in the same church. Yet, the decades rushed to a conclusion before anyone knew it. Pet owners speak of “dog years.” Perhaps we need a new category called “leader years” to express the velocity of life for those guiding organizations. I’m 51; my watch is over in about 14 years. How will I spend that time?

All I Have Is What I Remember

For about the last 5 years my father had great difficulty recognizing his immediate family. In one sense, then, everything he accomplished as a leader had been erased from his mind because he lacked the ability to recall it. It does not take Alzheimer’s to achieve this condition. I often seem to dash through the present as if only the future matters. What am I running from?

A Sense Of Humor Is A Good Friend

I recall the telephone conversation with my father when he confused me with a church secretary from many years ago. I felt guilty about the impulse to laugh out loud. But after many conversations with my mother, we both laughed about Dad’s newfound idiosyncrasies. I concluded that humor is a grace from God. Why do I not laugh more?

John Maxwell Never Covered This Part

After watching my father struggle to breathe on his deathbed, I cannot believe that there are 21 irrefutable laws of anything any more. I believe passionately in the transformation leaders experience with quality training, but we have to find a way to operate organizations spiritually, rather than mechanically. What would that look like?

I Am So Human, And I Am Not Happy About That

I almost did my standard newsletter this month as if nothing happened to me. I am still largely in denial. But I have been trained to soldier on as if transcending life-events for the purposes of ministry is some form of heroism. In those last 5 days, my father taught me that life and leadership must be integrated. His living will requested no extraordinary measures because of his experience dealing with the terminally ill. He knew there are many things worse than dying. What kind of newsletter will I do next month?

The End Puts Things In Perspective

The funeral sermon was jolting. Every time the preacher mentioned “Earl Creps” (I am the 3rd), I felt like she was talking about me. It made me wonder about my funeral. Perhaps the preacher will be one of you. What will you say?

Eternity Counts More Than Anything Else

The Monday morning after Dad’s final weekend as a pastor, the phone stopped ringing. All the people who were desperate for his attention, who loved him, despised him, and consumed him were suddenly absent. His retirement years were about the same. What I do as a leader must count for the Kingdom because people are too conditional. One day it will be only my wife and me. How much of what I do now is to earn the approval of others?

Having The Right Regrets

Several years before his Alzheimer’s set in, my father told me his two regrets about the ministry: (1) that he had spent so much time at work, and so little time with us in the living room where he would die, and; (2) that he could not do it all over again. So, regrets are not bad by definition. If I had to answer the same question right now, what would I say?

A Prevailing Church Is Led By The Humble

I came to faith in the Lutheran stream of the charismatic renewal. Those days gave rise to an enduring vision for spiritual revival in the church in my father’s heart. Sadly, his funeral was attended by the last 25 members of his former congregation. These were the remnants of a thriving, multiservice enterprise that developed a facility covering half a city block. In January, the survivors will vote on whether the church should formally cease to be and release their interim pastor to move on to another situation. I have struggled to reconcile this congregational deathwatch with the scale of my father’s investment as a pastor. Was it all a waste? Is all (my) ministry ultimately a waste, too? At Dad’s funeral I met Pastor Battle, the woman whose pioneer congregation began meeting in the church’s main sanctuary on Sunday, October 13. Nia (Swahili for “purpose”) Community Lutheran Church is an African-American congregation that will reboot Dad’s original vision for impacting the community. My mother will attend this church and probably head up their prayer ministry. The church can prevail when founders, transitioners, and innovators work together. Do we (I) have the humility?

I Have Looked The Tiger In The Eye

With Dad’s passing, there is no remaining “firebreak” between eternity and me. I am now looking down the barrel of my own mortality. It is OK. Having seen the end, maybe I will be a little less worried about what people think of me in the present, a little less manic about work, a little more reflective about life, more appreciative of the community of people around me. I have a hunger to deepen my personal spirituality, to grow closer to God, and then let the chips fall where they may. Does anything else matter?

Earl G. Creps, former doctor of ministry director, Assemblies of God Theological Seminary, Springfield, Missouri