Power Without Community Accountability: When empowerment neglects the “we” behind the “me.” A healthy organizational culture balances individual empowerment with community discernment and decision-making.
Like many others, I have been deeply affected by the story of Mars Hill Church as presented in the podcast series, The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill, hosted by Mike Cosper. Founded in the late 1990s by pastor Mark Driscoll, Mars Hill was planted in Seattle with a bold vision for evangelical faith, practice, and witness that could stand firmly in a progressively postmodern culture. Driscoll’s magnetic presence and charismatic leadership seemed especially to resonate with young men who had become disillusioned with cultural Christianity and sought reassurance of their own masculinity. In fact, Driscoll’s idea of “biblical masculinity,” which is aggressive, hierarchical, and combative, permeated the church’s culture. The early years saw great success as the vision spread quickly and attracted thousands across multiple campuses.
As the story of Mars Hill unfolded, we observe that its growing success and popularity seemed to give Driscoll tacit approval for his increasingly unchecked authority and dogmatism. After all, how can you justify checking someone’s leadership when they seem to be succeeding? But what began as a promising movement of God’s Spirit among the disenfranchised eventually turned into a disturbingly toxic environment behind the scenes. Those who had faithfully served the church with integrity for years (because they believed in its vision) were marginalized, humiliated, and bullied for raising concerns about Driscoll’s leadership ethic. They became “collateral damage” justified by a twisted narrative of “protecting the mission.”
One episode in the tragic story stayed with me deeply. It was the moment in Mars Hill’s cautionary tale that marked the beginning of the end. As the church grew rapidly over a few years, its organization became more complicated. A different management structure was needed. However, the process took a clearly self-interested turn as Driscoll used his personal influence to consolidate his power, increasingly shielding himself from community accountability.
Two board members expressed concerns about proposed changes to the church’s bylaws that would centralize authority and lessen elder accountability. When they opposed these changes, they were removed from leadership, publicly disciplined, and effectively excommunicated. The story that Driscoll gave to the leadership team during a staff retreat was haunting: “There is a pile of dead bodies behind the Mars Hill bus, and by God’s grace, it’ll be a mountain by the time we’re done. You either get on the bus or you get run over by the bus. Those are the options.”
As the story continues, increasing allegations of bullying, spiritual abuse, misogyny, gaslighting, and totalitarian leadership surfaced and dismantled the one shining vision of Mars Hill. Eventually, Driscoll resigned in 2014, and the church closed its doors for good.
It’s easy to blame Driscoll and assert innocence with false piety, claiming, “I would never do that.” However, we’re all capable of similar despotic attitudes, arrogance, and pride. We often hide these behind elaborate stories that justify our actions and crush others to uphold our seemingly noble ideals. If we’re being honest with ourselves, we’ve all done this to others even as we’ve experienced it ourselves. We understand how false narratives can destroy God’s image in us through half-truths and unfair assumptions about our motives, intentions, and interests. The Mars Hill story isn’t just about one man or one case of church abuse; it’s about a system that places a leader’s ideals above character and unchecked charisma. This can happen anywhere and serves as a warning to any organization that might empower lone wolves without the safeguards of shared discernment.
Lone Wolves in Shared Fields is not mainly about individuals. While it often appears through individual leaders with stronger personalities, it can happen with all personality types. It’s more about systems of power in organizations that go unchecked by community oversight. People don’t act like lone wolves unless the system allows it. No matter how highly we think of any leader, we shouldn’t be so captivated by them that we implicitly give them permission to act without question.
I recently finished reading Joseph Conrad’s novella, Heart of Darkness. The story is narrated by the sailor Marlow as he recounts to fellow sailors his journey years earlier as a riverboat captain in the Congo Free State during the height of European imperialism. Marlow secures a position with a Belgian trading company and travels to Africa, where he witnesses the brutal exploitation of African people by European colonizers, who justify their cruelty by claiming they are “civilizing” the land.
At the heart of the company’s operations is Kurtz, a mysterious ivory trader who has become a legendary figure because of his extraordinary success and influence. As he journeys further inland, Marlow hears from many people who speak very highly of Kurtz’s character and leadership, even as he faces increasingly harsh and eerie landscapes and encounters inefficiency, greed, and moral corruption at every turn.
When he finally reaches Kurtz, he discovers that the man has abandoned European values and positioned himself as a nearly god-like figure among the local people, indulging in unchecked power and savagery. Kurtz demonstrates what happens when society’s constraints and morality are stripped away. Alone in the Congo with absolute power and no accountability, Kurtz falls into greed, violence, and a desire for worship. He becomes the symbol of what Conrad suggests lies beneath the surface of all humanity: the capacity for corruption and savagery.
Jesus gives us an alternative vision of leadership in John 10. Instead of the lone wolves in shared fields, he gives us the Shepherd of the Sheep. Christian leadership follows the heart and ethics of the Great Shepherd:
“So Jesus said again, “I tell you the solemn truth, I am the door for the sheep. All who came before me were thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the door. If anyone enters through me, he will be saved, and will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come so that they may have life, and may have it abundantly.
“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and abandons the sheep and runs away. So the wolf attacks the sheep and scatters them. Because he is a hired hand and is not concerned about the sheep, he runs away.” (John 10: 7-13, NET)
Christian leadership reflects the heart of the Great Shepherd, who leads by laying down his life for the sheep. His approach to leadership does not involve throwing others “under the bus” to protect the mission. Instead, they understand that the mission only moves forward through shepherding qualities like empathetic listening to others’ interests and reconciliation. They let their gentleness be evident to all because the Lord is near (Phil. 4:5). They are a non-anxious presence amid conflict and disagreement, choosing to honor others rather than silence, argue with, shame, or demonize them. When confrontation is necessary, it is carried out with deep humility and respect, often by asking thoughtful questions to understand their realities and what they are facing.
How can your leadership team shift from being Lone Wolves in Shared Fields to becoming Under-Shepherds of the Great Shepherd? The following Examen questions, if honestly wrested with, can help a leadership team move away from isolation and self-preservation (Lone Wolves) toward communal care and sacrificial leadership (Good Shepherds), inspired by John 10:
- Whose voices are we truly listening to?
In our hiring, onboarding, and performance reviews, do we prioritize relational discernment and spiritual maturity versus technical competence and efficiency? - Where have we protected the institution more than the people?
Have recent HR decisions (e.g., conflict resolution, restructuring, policy enforcement) reflected the heart of the Good Shepherd or the fear of liability and control? - Who feels unseen or unheard in our current leadership structure?
Are there team members whose gifts, stories, or burdens are being overlooked because of hierarchy, bias, or busyness? - What wolves have we tolerated in our culture?
Have we allowed toxic behaviors (like manipulation, gaslighting, exclusion, or burnout) to persist because they’re masked by productivity or charisma? - Do our rhythms reflect shepherding or scrambling?
Are our meeting structures, decision timelines, and strategic priorities shaped by prayerful presence or by urgency and optics? - How do we respond when someone falters?
In our HR practices (e.g., corrective feedback, sabbaticals, exit processes), do we reflect the mercy and restoration of Jesus or a transactional, performance-based mindset? - Are we building fences or opening gates?
Do our policies and communication foster trust, transparency, and belonging, or do they reinforce silos, secrecy, and control? - What does “laying down our life” look like in this season?
Are we willing to sacrifice personal ambition, comfort, or recognition for the flourishing of the team and mission? - Where have we failed to name the cost of leadership?
Have we adequately prepared and supported leaders, especially new or marginalized ones, for the emotional and spiritual weight of shepherding others? - Are we leading people toward pasture or performance?
Do our organizational goals, incentives, and evaluations reflect holistic flourishing or just metrics and outcomes?
