There are a lot of people in the world who are in positions of leadership, but there are not a lot of true leaders. There are many people who achieve positions of prominence, but few who can back up that position with the ability to lead. And though the shelves of bookstores are groaning under the weight of all the books dedicated to the topic, and though they seem to sell in such vast quantities, still few of us can say we are being led well.

New to those shelves—the shelves, at least, of stores that sell Christian books—is Jason Allen’s Turnaround. For the past 10 years, since he was 35 years old, Allen has been the president of Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. He took on the position at a time when the seminary was in grave peril—it was mired in controversy, burdened with debt, and financially upside-down. Its campus facilities were in a state of disrepair and its faculty undistinguished. Little wonder, then, that there was talk of closing it down.
Today, though, MBTS is a thriving and world-class institution that is financially solvent, that has strong campus morale, that features some lovely new buildings, and that is the envy of many other seminaries. Under Allen’s leadership and through God’s kind providence it has experienced a significant turnaround.
That turnaround forms the narrative thread that is the basis of Allen’s book. “This book,” he says, “turns conventional leadership wisdom on its head. I am not a leadership expert hocking new insights or new approaches, nor do I plan to sell you a never-ending stream of leadership resources. In fact, I’ll make another confession: if you’re looking for a leadership guru, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Faithful leadership is actually simple, he insists. That’s not to say it’s easy. But it is foundationally simple. Leadership, he argues, “is largely intuitive, commonsensical, and yes, spiritual in nature.” That intuitive, common-sense, spiritual kind of leadership is described in the book’s ten chapters. In the first he describes the importance of knowing your specific context and in the second the significance of strong convictions. From there he moves to defining mission and pursuing vision. He shows how leaders must cultivate trustworthiness, cherish the teams they put in place, and insist on accountability for themselves and others. He writes about stewarding money well, communicating clearly, and fostering just the right kind of culture. He continually uses the turnaround at Midwestern as an illustration of these principles in action.
I have long observed that some of the most effective books are those that describe principles through the lens of narrative, and in this book Allen does that with great effectiveness. He illustrates 10 essential principles and practices in the remarkable story of an institutions’s transformation. It is interesting, it is helpful, and it is challenging—challenging to anyone who is in a position of leadership, whether in home, in church, in business, or anywhere else. I am glad to recommend it.

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I was once told the story of a child who had been invited to spend a sunny summer day playing with his friends. He lived in a rural area and it took him a good bit of time to make the trek. But the child made his way toward his friends as they made their way toward him and eventually they came upon one another halfway. Soon they were climbing trees and jumping creeks and skipping rocks and generally having the time of their lives.

Around dusk, the boy realized he should begin his return journey. But just as he was about to say his farewells, one of the other lads began to tell a story. The child, once drawn in, couldn’t force himself away. He sat in rapt attention as the story progressed, as the action waxed and waned, as the hero faced peril and emerged victorious.
By the time the story was complete, the sun had dipped behind the distant horizon. Now the boy gazed into the gathering darkness and realized he was afraid to set out by himself. He asked his friends to come with him, but they all needed to return in the opposite direction. As the boy dawdled and tried to work up his courage, the sun’s last rays disappeared from the sky. He fretted about his family, wondering if they were concerned about what had become of him.
The night grew darker still as clouds rolled in and began to blanket the moon and the stars. At last he decided he must stop procrastinating and set out. But just as he stood to his feet, a blinding flash of lightning shot from the sky and it was soon followed by a mighty crack of thunder. His courage failed him altogether.
Yet just as he was about to sink into utter despair, his eye spotted a flicker of light bobbing in the distance. Curious, he watched as it grew closer, as it grew brighter. And, then, to his delight, he saw that it was his older brother come to fetch him, come to bring him home. And now he quickly said farewell to his friends and boldly stepped into the darkness. He confidently made his way toward his brother who then led him safely home—home where his family threw their arms around him, home where a meal had been laid out for him, home where peace and rest awaited him.
And after the storyteller had said all of this, he paused for a moment. He paused to gather his thoughts and consider his words. And then he spoke once more.
So may it be for you when the night of death comes. So may it be for you when your friends cannot accompany you. So may it be for you when you do not dare to go alone.
On that day, your friend who is closer than a brother, your Savior who is your elder brother, will come to meet you at just the right time. In his hand will be the lantern of all the precious promises he has made, and this will be the lamp to your feet and the light to your path. He will lead you through the dark night and into the brightest day. He will accompany you to the place where your family awaits you and longs to see you, the place where a great supper has been laid out for you, the place where God himself is ready to welcome you home. Never, no never, do you need to fear that you will have to go that way alone.

Inspired by De Witt Talmage

The house seems large today. Just a few years after we got married Aileen and I bought the only house we could afford at the time—a little townhouse in an older neighborhood. We never left, never moved on, never traded up. It was big enough for our needs and we happily raised our children here. Though it often seemed too small, today it seems a bit too large. What use do we have for all these rooms? What good do they do just the two of us? It seems large today—large, empty, and kind of sad.

The dinner table seems large this evening. Some of our best family memories were made right here. We gathered around this table each evening to eat, to talk, to laugh, to read the Bible, to pray. In so many ways our family life revolved around this table. Five of us would sit here, often six if one of the children from the neighborhood was joining us. It was always just a bit tight as we sat elbow-to-elbow, our feet bumping and fighting for space underneath. But it seems large this evening with just two of us sitting here, just two of us sitting down at one end. It seems large, empty, and kind of sad.
The living room seems large tonight. You might think that would be impossible when our living room is so very small. We never could fit enough chairs in here to seat all of us at once. Someone would always have to sit on a lap or lie on the floor, or three would need to squeeze onto a mere loveseat. We read so many books here, books that transported us to Middle Earth or Narnia, to the Canadian east coast or the American prairies. So many books, so many stories, so many memories in so small a place. But this living room feels too large tonight—large, empty, and kind of sad.
It all seems large tonight—large, empty, and kind of sad. But my heart feels full tonight—full, pleased, and well satisfied, for each of our children is just where the Lord means for them to be. One is at college, the next step in her growth, the next stage of developing into who God has made her. One is at her home with her husband, happily settled into her new place, her new family, her new life. One is in heaven, in the safest and best of all places, the place we all most truly wish to be. And this little house was only ever meant to be temporary for our children, only ever meant to be the place in which we would prepare them, the place from which we would launch them into the world beyond, and the world beyond that.
I’ll go upstairs now and sit beside Aileen on that little loveseat. I’ll look at the empty table, gaze at the empty chairs, listen to the silence of an empty house and praise God for all the memories, all the blessings, all the sweet pleasures we experienced in this little house that, today at least, seems so large.