Arthur J. Schlesinger Jr assessed the Cuba Missile Crisis, when the world seemed to teeter on the brink of annihilation, as “the most dangerous moment in human history”. People then were faced with an existential crisis when their very life, and not just their way of living, was at stake. It was John F. Kennedy’s cool and rational leadership that saved the day and the world.

It was also the making of him, for good leaders become better in times of crisis. They are forged in the fire of trial, shine brightly and serve as a beacon in times of darkness. Mediocre leaders, on the other hand, come undone and become worse when the going gets tough. Furthermore, bad leaders add to their people’s anxiety with their mixed messaging, grandstanding and conceit. I am looking at you Boris, Donald and Robert.

So what makes a good leader when they are struggling themselves? The Harvard Business Review says that “a huge amount of anxiety in times of crisis has to do with who is in charge and how they behave. People need to think – not only rationally, but also intuitively and instinctively – that the leader and his or her people understand what’s going on, know what they’re doing, have a plan, and that they care.”

One leader who has emerged with his leadership credentials not only intact but burnished is Archbishop Charles Scicluna. His timely response to the threat of coronavirus on his flock reminds me of the constrasting responses to the same crisis of two towering figures in the history of the Church.

When Jerome, the canterkerous scholar who translated the Vulgate, heard of the sack of Rome, he gave up and fled to a cave to literally die. On the other hand, when Augustine, the bishop of Hippo, heard the same news, he stood firm and became the de facto leader of his city when the civic leaders scattered, even as the vandals were clamouring at the gate.

Good leaders become better in times of crisis

As if this wasn’t enough, during his ‘lockdown’, Augustine wrote his greatest masterpiece, The City of God, to help the Church understand what a life of faith meant in the times of crisis. To use a much quoted phrase, Augustine’s work is a classic exercise of ‘faith seeking understanding’, the application of faith to every aspect of human experience.

Scicluna rose to the challenge facing his Church in these times of pandemic not by grandiose and bombastic press conferences but with his dignified, daily presence on our screens. In the Church, leadership is an expression of theology, for God defines the term, identifies the position, and clarifies the role. The portrait St Paul paints in Romans is one of a person called to a role of standing in the front. It is a position and an activity.

“Listen to me!”, which was not beyond Paul for he was a verbose and prolific speaker and writer, he above all, encouraged people to “Imitate me”. More verbs are used than nouns when referring to leadership, which may insinuate that leadership is more action than position.

This truth also sets biblical leadership apart from other models. Biblical leadership is service-oriented and humble, but it is a humility that is cloaked in boldness.

Scicluna was bold when he moved quickly to stop the spread by halting public Masses but then moved with caution when deciding to resume them.

Like Prime Minister Robert Abela, who has the juggernaut of the tourism industry pressing him to ease the partial lockdown, Archbishop Scicluna had his fair share of his own people pressing him to resume public Masses at the first sign of easing of the social distancing measures.

But he stood firm, for another characteristic of an authentic leader is realism. Even though the government declared victory over the virus, Scicluna the realist knows that this hardly the case.

In the homily during the funeral Mass for Miriam Pace, the last public Mass he presided over, Scicluna implored the authorities: “All we ask is to feel safe in our home”. He put this in action only a few days later when he ensured that the church that we call home should not be the very one that endangers our lives, and halted public Masses.

For almost as long as the Church has existed, bells have called Christians together when they have to be apart. So when the bells ring to summon us for worship for the first time in three months, let them also peal for those who still cannot join us in person and to whom the Archbishop will still be the source of solace and comfort on their screens at this uncertain moment in history.  

Alessandra Dee Crespo, Chancellor of the Church Tribunal of Appeals

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