As a Christian school leader, there are so many times when pride rears its ugly head. Perhaps it lurks in the conversations with other school leaders: “How large is your school? How many Ivy League acceptances do you have? What building project or capital campaign are you undertaking? What innovative and heart-changing programs are you implementing?”
Pride impacts how we lead, including a tendency to push those we lead not for some higher cause but for the sake of our own vanity. This past summer I learned a valuable lesson about my own pride.
The Camino Frances: The Plan
The Camino Frances is part of the network of pilgrimage routes that make their way across Europe to a destination in northwestern Spain, the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. This particular route is an 800-km (500-mile) trek that begins in Saint Jean Pied de Port, France. This summer my wife Jody and I had the opportunity to hike this ancient route.
As avid backpackers, we experienced some elements of this experience as easier than our usual backcountry adventures. On the Camino Frances you can take a daily hot shower, eat mostly restaurant meals, and finish each day in an actual bed.
Our big challenge entering the pilgrimage was that we had only 27 days for completing a hike that typically takes 32 days at the least. No worries: we would make a plan, and if we needed to adjust and skip a portion by relying on train or taxi, we would.
The first day’s route climbing up through the Pyrenees crossing into Spain is rugged but filled with epic views. We soaked in the incredible quaintness of free-range cattle, sheep, and horses, many with bells around their necks clanging as they grazed. There was a great sense of satisfaction reaching our destination that first evening in Roncesvalles, where we stayed in an albergue (hostel) hosted by a monastery.
The next week plus of our hike went according to plan as we adapted to life at walking pace, Spanish culture and cuisine, and the rhythms of trail life. Jody faced her usual challenge of blisters, but we both felt great about building our mileage to cover 35-37 km (22-23 miles) per day.
The Camino Frances: The Interruption
All that changed on Day 9. We left Belorado early in the morning. The day took us through a beautifully wooded portion of trail that climbed steadily uphill to San Juan de Ortega. My wife had opted for her Teva sandals for the day’s hike rather than her usual trail runners to combat the blisters she was experiencing. Not sure if it was the lack of support in the sandals or the compounding impact of miles hiked without sufficient rest, but sometime midafternoon, Jody began to suddenly have intense pain in the lower shin of her right leg.
And so began a multi-day saga of uncertainty. How serious was the problem? Was it a stress fracture? What could we do about it? What did this pain mean for our hike? Everything feels more complicated when you are in a foreign country with few relevant language and cultural skills.
They say the Camino is about teaching you lessons for life. The experience of walking, the contemplative nature of solitude, the communion with fellow pilgrims, and the challenges of trail life all serve as powerful, life-changing teachers.
Well, some lessons are harder to learn than others! My wife’s injury forced us to make new plans and adjust them daily. On some days we rested, on others I walked alone, and we thought about quitting our Camino altogether.
Face to Face with Pride
It was in this experience that I came face to face with my own flaws. What I had so easily suggested and agreed to while at home (namely, that we would not feel pressure to complete the entire route) was now something that every aspect of my human pride was fighting against. The internal conflict was intense: my love and concern for Jody, the uncertainty about how to move forward, and the deep desire to be able to go home and tell everyone I had walked 500 miles.
Dear reader, this source of pride may not be your issue. In my shoes, you might have thankfully abandoned the trail. However, as leaders, I can nearly guarantee that there are places where your own pride is blinding you to the decisions that should be made, particularly on issues where the health of your team is at stake. Too often in our leadership we press forward while ignoring the human cost for some kind of earthly glory wrapped in our own self-serving vanity.
God met me on the trail into Castrojeriz as I walked alone. (Jody took a taxi to Fromista, our destination that evening.) God convicted me of the sinfulness of my pride. Perhaps it was the beauty of the early morning sun silhouetting the churches or reflecting off the dew-drenched poppies, but in my walk that morning I began to realize with clarity where my weakness was clouding my perspective.
Reflecting on this experience, I am certain I can carry this lesson into leadership. Pride can destroy what God wants us to build.
The next day Jody and I took a train from Fromista to Leon, skipping 100 km of the Camino. Over the next few days my wife made a full recovery, and I realized that the days with fewer miles had been helpful for my own physical wellbeing as well. We completed our Camino, savoring this incredible experience together.
I walked 440 miles. No sighing. No sense of loss. 440 miles. And many important life lessons learned.
2 Comments on “A Lesson on Pride”
Great post my friend!! Fantastic lesson for all of us to learn!!
Wisely spoken! I am reminded of the way that Christ made people’s needs the focus of his ministry instead of seeing those needs as obstacles to his own fulfilment.