The Office vs. The Man

I was watching the last episodes of West Wing’s Season 4, where President Bartlett signs a letter handing power over to the Speaker of the House while his daughter is kidnapped and held for ransom.  In the last scene, the camera pans around the room to the President’s staff; his Chief of Staff, Deputy Chief of Staff, Communications Direction, Press Secretary, an Admiral and… I don’t remember her title, but Nancy McNally.  All of those people serve the Office of the President, and when Glenn steps in to take over the Office, they continue to serve the Office.  The only person who doesn’t continue to serve the office is Charlie, the President’s body man.  In a scene from the following season, he makes it very clear that he does not serve the Office, rather he serves the Man – Josiah Bartlett himself.  He refuses to stop serving Bartlett to be the temporary President’s body man.  He makes that choice.

It got me thinking.  Sometimes I feel like I serve two masters at church, I serve the Office – the role and position I’ve been given by the church – but I’m also supposed to be serving the Man – the Trinity Godhead himself.  Thankfully those two things are most times in sync with each other, and I don’t have to make a choice which to serve at the loss of the other.  But what would I do if I was in Charlie’s position?  Would I be able to stand up and say, “No.  I serve the Man, not the Office”?  Have there been times when I should have said those things?

I remember back to seminary days, and we were supposed to write a creed of our beliefs.  I honestly don’t remember if I actually did or not, but I should look it up.  I feel sometimes that I’m being asked to bend, to remain open-minded, both of which are good things for a leader to be.  We have to be flexible and open to new or different ideas.  But as flexible as I should be, there does come a point where I will break.  Tyve talks about this in “Fiddler on the Roof.”  How far can he bend before he snaps like a twig?  He allows two of his daughters to marry in a new and different way that has always been done, but he cannot allow for his third daughter to marry outside the faith.  He talks about if he tried to bend that far he would break.  He was an open-minded, flexible father-leader.  But he did find a point where he would break.  Sometimes, I feel as if I’m being asked to bend closer and closer to that breaking point.

Right now, it concerns the music vs. words debate.  There are times when certain words go with certain music for a very specific reason.  To change the words or the music loses a huge piece of what is so important to that piece.  I feel very strongly that we should not be separating these things.  Still, I try to recognize that there are times when the connection is only in my head.  I’ve associated this music with those words purely because that’s the way its always been done.  While there is personal value to that association, it fails on a corporate level.  That association cannot be translated to different groups of people.  Yet, I feel that I do not know enough to be able to say with certainty when the association is corporate and should not be broken.  There is truth in the need for comfort and familiarity, but not when so much is lost in the broken association.

For examples, think of Amazing Grace or Great Thou Art or A Mighty Fortress.  Three hymns that cannot break the association the music has with the words, or vice versa.  One cannot sing the tune with different words, or the words to a different tune.  There is too much lost.  Are we losing too much in other instances?  Has too much been lost already?

For me, this is where my service to the Office begins to clash with my service to the Man.  The Office calls me to change the tune, make it easier to sing.  The Man calls me to teach, to push, to not cast aside what is equally important.  I’m not suggesting that I know exactly what words should be sung with what tune, nor that there is any book or reference out there with all the answers.  It is something that does need consideration and knowledge, and should weigh more heavily on our minds than it does.  This is where my thesis should begin; this is where the rubber meets the road.