I spent thirty years leading in public education. I did not always think of that work as spiritual. I thought of it as operational, relational, sometimes political, and often exhausting. But looking back, I can see that it was — and is — one of the most fundamentally spiritual things I did with my life.
Not because leadership is sacred in some mystical sense. But because leadership is fundamentally about influence over people — and influence over people is always, at its core, a matter of character. And character formation is, whether you use the word or not, the work of the spiritual life.
"Leadership is not about being in charge. It's about taking care of those in your charge." — Simon Sinek
The Unavoidable Formation
Here is what I mean by unavoidable: when you are in a position of leadership, you are always forming people. The question is not whether you're forming them — you are. The question is into what.
Leaders who are anxious form anxious teams. Leaders who are controlling form dependent, disempowered teams. Leaders who are defensive form teams that stop telling them hard truths. Leaders who are generous, curious, and secure form teams that are brave enough to bring their best work forward.
You can't opt out of this formation. You can only choose how conscious you'll be about it.
The Benedictines understood this. Benedict's Rule is not a leadership manual, but it functioned as one for monastery leaders for fifteen hundred years. Its central principle is simple: the abbot must first examine himself. Before he leads others, he must lead himself. The spiritual formation of the leader is the precondition for the spiritual formation of the community.
The Three Questions I Keep Coming Back To
Over the years, I've found three questions that cut to the center of leadership as a spiritual practice. I use them in coaching, in my own reflection, and in the leadership development work I still do:
Who am I becoming as I lead? Not what am I achieving — who am I becoming? Are you becoming more patient or less? More humble or more defended? More honest or more managed? The answers to these questions are the real scorecard.
What do the people closest to me think about who I am? Not what they think about your results — what do they think about your character? The spouse who sees you after hard days. The assistant who watches how you treat the person at the bottom of the org chart. They know things your board doesn't.
What am I doing with my own soul? Do you have a practice? A place of silence? A community that challenges you? Someone who tells you the truth? The leader who neglects their own formation will, eventually, have nothing left to give — or worse, will give something they should never have given.
This Isn't Just for Church People
I want to be careful here. When I say leadership is a spiritual practice, I don't mean it only applies to pastors or Christian executives. I mean something broader: leading people requires becoming a person worth following. And becoming a person worth following requires honest self-examination, sustained attention to your inner life, and a willingness to be changed by what you find there.
That's what spiritual formation is. You don't have to call it that. But if you're doing it — if you're actually doing it — you're doing spiritual work whether you use the word or not.
And if you're not doing it, you're leading from whatever you happen to be at the moment. Which may be fine for a while. Until the pressure comes and reveals what was actually there all along.
The best leaders I've known have always been the ones most interested in their own formation. That's not a coincidence.