John Paul II was a coach. Whether he was meeting with top aides or lowly guards like myself, he never compromised the truth. He was realistic about problems, obstacles, and the like. As gentle as he was, there was no sugar coating of hard facts. But he approached those problems with a “can-do” attitude. He had every expectation that obstacles could be overcome, and he always let you know he was on your side.
I’ll never forget what he said to me once I made the decision to leave the Swiss Guards:
“Go out into the world and bring what you have learned here with you: I have great hopes for you.”
John Paul II made it clear that he believed in me. He, in fact, believed in all people—in the power and potential for good we all possess as creatures made in the image of God. He had seen the worst mankind could do—Nazi death camps, Stalinist purges, the repression of basic rights and freedoms—and he still had confidence in man. He wanted man to have confidence in man too. That was the point of pep talks such as the ones he gave me and the other guards. He understood the basic yearnings in all of us—the yearning for meaning, for greatness, for being valued, trusted, loved, and accepted—and he knew how to speak to those yearnings. He pointed us toward the One who could fulfill them—God—and made us feel that such heights of glory weren’t beyond our reach.
John Paul II also knew how to make the most menial tasks of guard duty feel as important as the grandest acts of political diplomacy and apostolic ministry. He urged us to see why our work mattered, why we mattered, and he inspired us to give our all to everything we undertook.
He did that, not just by giving benevolent guidance, but also by building a personal rapport with us. He took the time to talk to all who served in the Vatican. He paid attention to people, and through the simplest acts of recognition, helped everyone working with him see that they weren’t anonymous cogs working in a giant bureaucratic machine, but rather important contributors to the most important work in the world. That same personal rapport is what made it possible for his advisors to both give and receive honest counsel. His team trusted him because they knew him.
With the Swiss Guards specifically, one of the ways he did this was to share a dinner with us during the summer when we were at Castel Gandolfo and his schedule was not as busy. The guards would prepare a Swiss meal and then spend the evening entertaining the pope with music, singing, or a slide presentation about our life as guards. The pope visibly enjoyed himself during these evenings, laughing at the guards’ jokes and asking questions about our work. He really wanted to know what this or that job was like and how certain tasks were performed. Through his questions, the guards felt both cared-for and affirmed.
John Paul also took the time, whenever he could, to baptize the children born to the Swiss Guards. His secretary would call immediately after the birth and ask how the mother and child were doing, then tell the parents that the Holy Father would be happy to baptize the child if they wished—which, of course, most did.
The Corporate Coach
If the leader of a billion Catholics can take the time to build a rapport with his employees, there is no CEO or manager who can’t do the same. Personal knowledge and personal contact shape the spirit of a team. The better you know your employees and the more comfortable they feel with you, the more you can lead them as a coach and not a critic. That’s yet another reason why perks such as separate elevators and entrances for the CEO or senior partners are such a bad idea. They feed the “us versus them” mentality that plagues so many firms. They also make it very difficult for a CEO to ever put a person before a goal. After all, if you never see the person, how is he going to matter more to you than the goal at the forefront of your mind?
So how do you build that rapport? Depending on the size of your department or business there are lots of ways, from company Christmas parties and picnics to a monthly breakfast. Regular meetings and evaluations are important. In those meetings you should listen as well as talk, striving to discover how the person sees his job, his role in the company, and what he thinks he needs to do his job better. Simply asking questions from time to time as John Paul did is also important: Where are you from? Do you have a family? What do you love doing? Little answers to little questions go a long way toward helping you form a picture of the person in front of you, and letting him know that you see them as more than just a job title.
When you lead as a coach, you put person-centered ethics into practice and help your employees fulfill their God-given potential. Not coincidentally, you also make them better employees, more capable of and more willing to work hard at building a stronger company. That’s something that makes both good human sense and good business sense.
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Once you’ve built your team and fostered their growth, what can you expect from them? You can expect someone like Archbishop Henri Lemaitre.
I met the archbishop one evening in 1987 while I was standing guard in the San Damaso courtyard. He was passing by on his way to a meeting, and, mostly out of boredom, I struck up a conversation with the man. He appeared fairly non-descript at first, older and wearing the typical Roman collar. His passport told me that he was the archbishop who ran the Vatican Embassy in Denmark and represented the Vatican there, as well as in Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Iceland. After a short conversation, we discovered that he knew my father. Something told me this man had stories to tell, so I asked him if we could continue our conversation over dinner the next night. He agreed, and when we did continue that conversation I discovered my instincts were right.
As it turns out, this man was the Vatican’s version of 007. Over the years he served the pope in Vietnam and Cambodia, where he was nearly executed by an angry mob; as well as in Uganda, where he was tasked with negotiating with the country’s ruthless dictator, Idi Amin. The archbishop had supported underground churches in countries where the Faith was banned or where government-controlled puppet churches operated. He’d also worked to prevent the execution of priests and directed money for missions to their rightful recipients. He did the sort of things that one only reads about in books or sees in movies, and he did them with almost no outside help.
Where the Vatican sent Lemaitre, communication was often difficult, if not impossible. In the midst of revolutions and riots, there was no way for him to check with the Vatican about what moves he should make or risks he should take. He made those calls for himself, transitioning seamlessly from follower to leader when all channels of communication went silent. He had the ability to carry out the pope’s wishes even when he hadn’t been specifically told what those wishes were. He was able to do that because he possessed the diplomatic skills the job required, as well as courage, passion, and an understanding of the pope’s vision.
That’s the type of team member John Paul II’s leadership style cultivated. That’s the kind of team member every business, big or small, needs.
Synchronizing Talent
How well do the right persons and the right tasks match up in your company?
This simple exercise can help you find the answer to that question.
Step 1: Make a list of the key positions in your company or group. Describe in clear terms what each job needs in terms of human talent and ability. Feel free to distinguish between essentials and “nice to haves.”
Step 2: Think of your key employees (direct reports) and make a list of their key strengths and talents. Also note what your long-term vision would be for each one. Who is that individual at his best? What could each person achieve if he stretched?
Step 3: Explore how well the two lists overlap. Is the right person in the right job? If so, what training or mentoring could bring him to the next level? If not, what job would be better for him? Can you help him get there?
Questions for Reflection
Who was the best manager you ever had? Describe what made this leader great. Did this person lead as a coach or a critic? How did he or she bring out the best in you as an employee?
Who was the worst ma
nager you ever had. Describe what made this person difficult to work for. How did this manager’s leadership style affect your work and the work of your fellow employees?
Describe the type of manager you want to be. How close is reality matching up to that vision? What, if anything, needs to change? How do you think those changes will affect your team?
Epigraph. Encyclical Letter on Human Work Laborem Exercens (September 14, 1981), 15.
Chapter Seven
Live as a Witness:
The Testimony of Right Action
“Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”
Matthew 25:40
The relationship between man’s freedom and God’s law, which has its intimate and living centre in the moral conscience, is manifested and realized in human acts. It is precisely through his acts that man attains perfection as man, as one who is called to seek his Creator of his own accord and freely to arrive at full and blessed perfection by cleaving to him.
—Blessed John Paul II
In Rome, the gypsies are everywhere—the subways, the streets, the churches. Some are thieves and pickpockets. Some are street performers. Most are beggars. They have made an art of it.
Visitors to Rome often find the gypsy beggars annoying. They’re never sure whether to give them money or not. The Catholic pilgrims are especially torn. One of the first things most are told by knowledgeable Romans is never give anything to a gypsy, that they’re all con artists and thieves. But then they see a sad-eyed woman with an even sadder-eyed child, and callously walking past her feels like the last thing any Christian should do.
The Romans, however, don’t have such qualms. They hate the gypsies, and have made as much of an art out of hating them, as the gypsies have made out of begging.
Because Romans primarily staff the Vatican, running all the businesses inside Vatican City and holding a large chunk of the ecclesial posts, you can guess what the prevailing attitude toward the gypsies is there. But during the time I lived in Vatican City, that animosity began to wane because of John Paul II.
John Paul II knew how the gypsies were perceived inside the Vatican’s walls, and he disliked that about as much as he disliked the fact that homeless men, women, and children slept on the Vatican’s doorstep. So, in May of 1987, about six months after I arrived in Rome, he agreed to Mother Teresa’s request to open a seventy-four-bed shelter inside the Vatican. It opened the following winter.
As soon as the sisters began taking in guests, the Swiss Guards began volunteering there. Our job was to watch out for troublemakers and keep the sisters safe. While we did that, we helped the sisters out with the various tasks involved in running such an enterprise. I usually took on the job of helping them serve dinner, and was unfailingly impressed by the sisters’ simplicity, humility, and love. I also was impressed by the actions of the pope.
Not only did John Paul II make the unprecedented move of opening the shelter inside the Papal Palace, but, also unprecedented and perhaps more surprising, he held audiences for the gypsies and homeless of Rome. In the midst of traveling the world, meeting with prime ministers, and shaping the way the Faith was taught and lived, he regularly took time to be with those who most Romans considered the dregs of their city. The significance of that was never lost on the gypsies who came to the audiences. As I stood guard, I would watch their faces. They were different in that room than they were on the outside. They were, in a way, more themselves. They lost the anonymous look of the beggar and reflected instead their God-given dignity as individuals.
In meeting with the Holy Father, those gypsies and beggars remembered who they were. And so did we. After those audiences, none of us in Vatican City could look at gypsies in quite the same way. John Paul II’s actions affected us all. They helped us see the truth of the situation, and they helped each of us act with greater virtue.
That’s the power leaders possess. By their actions, they shape the beliefs and actions of those serving under them. That’s why it’s so important that a leader’s actions be the right ones. In all his actions, great and small, he must live as a witness to truth. He must never forget what our mothers so insistently told us: Actions speak louder than words.
Why Actions Matter
Actions matter because all actions (and inaction) have consequences. Some consequences may be small. Some may be earth shattering. Regardless, everything we do, every action we take, in some way affects ourselves, our environment, or the lives of others.
Consider, for example, how our actions affect us. If I want to become a piano player, the way to do that is not to sit around and think about becoming a piano player or spend my evenings pouring over sheet music. The way to become a piano player is to practice the piano. If I perform the action of piano playing often enough, my actions will eventually make me that which I seek to become.
The same holds true for all our other actions. If I cheat at cards, I become a cheater. If I lie to my business partners, I become a liar. If I sleep around on my wife, I become an adulterer. Conversely, if I give to those in need, I become generous. If I hold my tongue when someone insults me, I become meek. If I control my anger and strength, I become gentle.
However, nothing I do can ever destroy my God-given dignity. But some actions will undermine that dignity and some actions will enhance it. For good or for ill, our actions define and shape us.
None of us live in a vacuum. Our actions don’t only affect us. They also affect others for days, centuries, or millennia to come. After all, it was the sin of our first parents, Adam and Eve that led to original sin. They messed up, and the fruits of that were passed down to their children and every other human being who has since walked the face of this earth. Their actions had consequences that will last long past the day the sun stops shining.
My actions can do the same, even if not quite on such a grand scale. A kind word or a harsh word to my son today can shape his understanding of me, himself, and men in general, even God, for the rest of his life. How you treat a co-worker—such as lending a hand when a major deadline looms or not helping—can make the difference between them keeping their job or losing it. Both our good works and our bad works live on. Through the effect they have on others, they travel into history.
When you’re a leader, those effects are amplified even more. Perform enough of those right or wrong actions, and it’s not just yourself or one other person you affect, but the entire culture of your environment. Your temper can make your home a terrible place to be, where no one says what they think and where your children learn to respond to frustration with yelling and violence. The same applies to our work. My willingness to make questionable business deals will create a culture of dishonesty within the company. Mistakes will be covered up, numbers manufactured, and office supplies (or worse) filched.
What it comes down to is that if you want to create a happy, peaceful home, you have to act happily and peacefully. If you want an honest, hardworking team, you have to act honestly and diligently. You have to use your mind and your will to be aware of your actions and their consequences, and then undertake the actions that will produce the consequences you’re after. No one (or almost no one) will do as you say. They will do as you do—so what you’re doing had better be right.18
The Heart of Papal Action
In Chapter Three, I talked about the importance of ethics in helping us act rightly. They give us, I contended, a framework for choosing the good. Here I’ll add that ethics, more than anything else, are shaped by the intellect. They’re the product of clear moral reasoning.
We need clear moral reasoning. It gives shape or form to right actions. It doesn’t, however, animate them. It doesn’t give our actions the life and warmth they need in order to make us authentic and effective witnesses. In other words, ethics are the guide for right action, but they’re not the heart of right action. John Paul II’s person-centered ethics as a mere philosophical concept isn’t what made us sit up and ta
ke notice when he held the hands of gypsy women or kissed babies with AIDS. His ethical framework isn’t why countless young men and women followed him into the priesthood or religious life or why millions started living their faith more seriously. It’s certainly not why I started living my faith more seriously.
There was something else there, something that gave life to all John Paul II did. More specifically, I think there were three attitudes that are essential to being a witness to truth and a leader through action: Knowledge, respect for human dignity, and love.
Knowledge
Let’s start with knowledge. By knowledge, I don’t necessarily mean book learning. Don’t get me wrong. John Paul II was an admirably learned man. He had two doctorates, was an accomplished philosopher, author, and poet, and spoke at least eight languages fluently. He spent hours every day reading, writing, and studying. His knowledge of ideas, history, and culture enabled him to make informed choices and act rightly in any number of situations.
The Pope & the CEO Page 11