To dance or to ascend? In adaptive ecclesiology, that is the question.
I am writing from the perspectives of a pastor and planter, failing forward, actively engaged in the day-to-day of serving a network of inherited and emerging congregations. In the language of Heifetz and Linsky, this is the dance. I also oversee the Fresh Expressions movement for my denomination and teach at several seminaries, this provides a balcony view.
Yet, in Gardens in the Desert, Bishop Ken Carter and I suggest that the balcony and dance perspectives are not reserved for those who inhabit particular spaces in a denominational hierarchy. Every person in an organization has the capacity to utilize the balcony and the dance. Indeed, every Christian can cultivate these forms of discernment.
We could think of the dance floor as the operational work. This is the bustling, everyday action—the thick of it. Where we engage with real people, in real situations, with real challenges and opportunities. It’s where leaders dance to the beat of our local communities, dealing with the details, immediate activities, and improvising in real time.
The balcony is the big picture. It’s where leaders step back to observe the entire system. It’s where we consider organizational goals, changes, and team dynamics. On the balcony we can gather insights by identifying patterns, assessing team alignment, and making strategic decisions.[1]
The balcony offers perspective, clarity, and strategic thinking. The dance floor ensures engagement, empathy, and responsiveness.
These two spaces, balcony and dance are crucial in an adaptive ecclesiology.
On the balcony we can employ what C. Wright Mills called the “sociological imagination.” Mills (1916-1962) was an influential American sociologist known for his critical analyses of contemporary power structures. He was a professor of sociology at Columbia University where he taught until his death in 1962. Mills advocated for engaged scholarship, urging intellectuals to actively participate in public and political life rather than remaining disinterested observers.
Mills described the sociological imagination as a “quality of mind” that sought to grasp the interplay between personal lives and social structures. It is a powerful framework that encourages us to view our personal experiences in a broader social context. Mills believed that understanding individual lives necessitates examining historical, cultural, and structural factors.[2]
Mills argued that we often perceive our problems as purely personal, failing to recognize their societal roots. For instance, mass incarceration may seem like an individual issue based on the behavior of criminal deviants, but it can be linked to larger economic structures. The sociological imagination bridges this gap by connecting personal troubles (individual challenges) to public issues (systemic problems).[3]
Mills emphasized the interplay between biography (individual life stories) and history (collective events). Our personal experiences are shaped by historical context, cultural norms, and social institutions. By examining both biography and history, we gain a deeper understanding of human behavior.[4]
Social structures (such as institutions, class divisions, and power dynamics) influence our lives. However, individuals also possess agency—the ability to make choices and act. The sociological imagination encourages us to explore how structural constraints intersect with personal agency.[5]
This is the balcony work, to see beyond our immediate lives, recognizing the intricate connections between personal experiences and societal forces. By embracing this perspective, we become more informed, empathetic, and capable of addressing collective challenges.
A more ancient way to describe the balcony and the dance is contemplation and action. And both contemplation and action involve helping us practice discernment and decide how to act.
Adaptive ecclesiology combines these viewpoints, allowing leaders to navigate complexity more effectively. It’s about knowing when to dance and when to ascend to the balcony for a better view of the whole system.
For Christians, the balcony includes cultivating a Scriptural imagination. The view from the balcony starts with a disciplined way of engaging scripture. A balcony leader develops an intentional plan to read the Bible, shares the plan with others and seeks to follow the plan. This is more about modeling a mindset than being constrained by legalism. Yet there is no better balcony practice than reading scripture.
When our way of reading scripture becomes stagnant, and our way of seeing the neighbor becomes hard-hearted, the scriptures no longer function as the dynamic Living Word for us. We are not reading them the way the Holy Spirit intended—to convict, and to guide us into all truth (John 16: 8,13). God is glorified when the church cultivates a scriptural imagination.
An adaptive ecclesiology has the maturity to engage the significant questions and problems facing us—from poverty to human sexuality to climate change to privilege—and yet it is grounded in the guidance of a leader who sits before biblical texts, listening for the voice of God, and just as attentively listening to the people we are often quick to dismiss, judge or stereotype. On the balcony we rediscover what Thomas Merton called the original unity… the “oneness we already are.”[6]
In the balcony we let go of our attachments and obsessions. We detox from the culture wars. Here we disentangle ourselves from the impulsive, dualistic, binary thinking that flourishes in an extremely polarized climate. We purge (or at least question) the assumptions we may hold about our own politics, or the politics of others. We set aside the temptations to despair and arrogance, embracing instead the posture of curiosity and wonder. We root ourselves in the hope and confidence we have in God.
The balcony time gives space to reflect on our higher orienting purpose. What is your higher orienting purpose? Can you describe it in one sentence? For example, I seek to be, “a spiritual guide who helps people heal, love, and unleash imagination to create better lives, organizations, and communities.” Do my daily thinking and actions align with my purpose? This is a balcony question.
The balcony is God’s way of caring for us, healing us, restoring us and reorienting us. And all of this for a purpose: the dance, which is the mission.
In the dance of mission, we can cultivate a kind of discernment that happens in real time. On the bustle of the dance floor, it is way of being that helps us stay in tune with the music and the movement. As we hone this practice over time, it becomes obvious when we are synchronized with the beat, and when we are not.
The adaptive church seeks to be both faithful and flexible. At the heart of this tension is relying upon a conscious spiritual practice that seeks to understand, know and follow God’s will. In the history of the church this practice has been known as discernment.
One of the resources that many Christians find helpful is the Jesuit practice of spiritual discernment, a synthesis of contemplation and action. Jesuits are a religious order within the Catholic Church, and their lives are shaped by the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius of Loyola.
The Jesuit model of discernment, which is five hundred years old, is very simple, and it is based upon asking fundamental questions.
● Does this decision lead me to a sense of peace, freedom and consolation?
● Am I excited and energized?
● Does it seem that a door is opening?
● Or does this decision lead me to the sense of sadness, depression and desolation?
● Am I despondent and discouraged?
● And does it seem that a door is closing?
The Holy Spirit, according to the Jesuit tradition, is always on the side of consolation. When God places a gift within us, there is rejoicing when that gift is discovered and released. This spiritual practice causes a sense of peace to settle over us when we claim the gift and move forward. When we move toward that decision, sometimes it requires us to release other possibilities.
Discernment is the practice of seeking to make decisions that are consistent with the will of God. And spiritual discernment is always enhanced when our own internal testing of a decision is weighed alongside the wisdom and insight of a trusted spiritual friend. This is the value of corporate discernment.
“It is not good” for human beings to dance alone (Genesis 2:18).
Discernment of the will of God is an essential practice for the adaptive church. In the practice of discernment, the church can navigate change. When there is spiritual maturity, an adaptive ecclesiology joins a deep inner life, aware of the internal stirrings of the Holy Spirit, with a risk-taking outer journey into the lives of people in whom that same Spirit is also mysteriously at work on the dance floor of life.
[1] Heifetz, Ronald A., Alexander Grashow, and Martin Linsky. The Practice of Adaptive Leadership: Tools and Tactics for Changing Your Organization and the World. Boston, Mass: Harvard Business Press, 2009.
[2] Mills, C. Wright. The Sociological Imagination (Oxford University Press, 2000), 5.
[3] Mills, 8.
[4] Mills, 9.
[5] Mills, 10.
[6] Merton, Thomas, Address to International Summit of Monks, Calcutta, India (October 19-27, 1968), published in The Asian Journals of Thomas Merton (New Directions: 1975), 51.
Thank you Rev Michael and Rev Carter for the inspiration you provide. Very thought provoking!
I've been trying to apply the adaptive leadership work in my own ministry for years, very helpful.