A popular term I’ve heard recently in business circles, as well as in various political attempts to solve conflicts dealing with teacher contracts and Aboriginal-First Nations disputes is: “results-based management.”
A simple Google search will reveal what results-based management principles and strategies are all about. As I understand it, it is a performance driven approach to leadership, bottom-line economics, and mediation. It seems to me, such an approach pre-judges the outcome of an encounter between people who differ in some respect. Its success relies heavily on the exercise of power and who has more of it.
I wonder, though, how results-based management styles square with principles drawn from the more organic approach described in Paul’s illustration of a community of faith being like a human body (1 Corinthians 12:12-31). I doubt the interaction of body parts will display health and vigor if one part lords it over another. I wonder if results-based management allows for the possibility of an outcome that neither party pre-meditated and pre-determined prior to their interaction.
The focus of prayer during this year’s Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is India. And at last year’s Luther Hostel in Waterloo I learned about some very critical aspects of India’s geography. One of those geographic wonders is the Sundarbans delta in India and Bangladesh.
The Sundarbans delta comprises of a giant estuary. Estuaries are borderlands that are continuously interlaced by the rivers on one side and lashed by the ocean on the other. The Sundarbans is the largest river delta in the world and is bordered by the largest estuarine mangrove forest in the world. It is marked by the coming together of the River Ganges and the Indian Ocean.
This estuary receives two environments that do not blend together easily. Variations in temperature, salinity, and murkiness create downright havoc in the delta. Instability is characteristic of this delta.
But this variability also proves its greatest strength.
The Sundarbans serve as the home for a large variety of animals, among them some endangered species. It’s home to the largest population of Royal Bengal tigers in India and also some of the world’s largest crocodiles, which can get to be over twenty feet long and big enough to hold two grown men. Within the forest bordering the estuary live some fifty species of mammals, about 320 species of inland and migratory birds, about fifty species of reptiles, eight species of amphibians, and about 400 species of fish. They are the breeding grounds for several species of fish and serve as nurseries.
The productivity of an estuary is estimated to be eight times that of agricultural land because of the rich organic material that the river brings in due to the give-and-take in the mixing of river and ocean.
It is no wonder that the word “Sundarbans” means “beautiful jungle” in Bengalese; the paradox of it all: How can a jungle be beautiful? And yet, it is.
Estuaries, in general, are “the schools where lessons of life are taught, where one’s eyes are opened to the reality of the world. They are margins where there is an unveiling, where revelation takes place.” (Mary Joy Philip)
This is a natural example of the mixing of two very different components resulting in a hybrid environment — a new reality. And this new reality can produce so much good for the world.
The positive consequence of mixing two distinct entities is not dilution or dissolving of those entities. For some species that cannot adapt to that changing environment it means total extinction. But for those that can adapt, the result is a transformation which is vital, giving rise to an entirely new, vigorous reality for both.
I think it is possible for distinct beings — whether those beings are groups in society at odds with one another, members of a family, business team, religious or political community in conflict, or a society struggling with its open diversity — to engage one another productively.
But in this coming together, no one can pre-meditate, and manage towards a result that either party wants. The effect and consequence of coming together in mutual respect and as equal creatures, we cannot forsee. But we are in this thing together. And it is only together, not apart, where the solution lies.
Mix it up together, we must.
Barbara Brown Taylor writes that our unity in the Body of Christ usually seems like a “fond illusion” but she says that it’s our separateness that might be the illusion instead. She mentions an old Sufi saying that goes like this: “You think because you understand ‘one’ you must understand ‘two,’ because one and one make two. But you must also understand ‘and.'” “You know who our ‘and’ is, don’t you? The creator of all our parts, the author of our wholeness, the lover of complete impostors, the Lord of electrons, the one who’s got the whole world in his hands with room left over, turning you and me and them into us.”