Sending

In the wake of Ted Wardlaw’s retirement, I’ve been thinking about leadership. Ted is one of the finest, most effective leaders I’ve ever known, and standing to the end of this portion of his career has me reflecting on the skills and traits that make for his kind of leadership. I think these four stand out to me:

Absorbing the ethos of the institution. I came to Austin Seminary for the first time to attend Ted’s inauguration as president. Ted took me on a campus tour that culminated with Shelton Chapel. Once inside, he walked me through the symbolism of the chapel’s accoutrements. He was completely engaged by the significance of the place. As I listened, I realized that in the short few months he had been here, he had already absorbed and digested the spirit of this place; it was part of him, and he was part of it. He was becoming the principal interpreter of the legacy of the place. Good leaders absorb the ethos of the community they lead down into the marrow of their bones.

Being willing to take a principled stand. Not long after Ted became president, he was confronted with pressure from several large-church pastors in Texas to move the Seminary in a more conservative and evangelical direction or face financial strangulation. They wanted to see it resist the admission of LGBTQ students and to hire more theologically conservative faculty. But instead of caving to the pressure, Ted insisted we admit bright students, regardless of sexual orientation, students who would before many years be eligible for ordination in a more open church. He insisted that we call and install the best faculty we could find. It cost him more than a little sleep, I’m sure. But all those pastors are gone now, and Ted Wardlaw and Austin Seminary have built two new student apartment buildings and the Wright Learning and Information Center, funded the College of Pastoral Leaders, and endowed faculty chairs and full-ride student scholarships. Good leaders know when to take a stand.

Staying connected to others. Anyone who’s ever disagreed with Ted knows that the best way to disagree with him is face-to-face. If you’ve done that, you know that look on his face that says, I’m listening; tell me more. You may not convince him (I haven’t, at least not often), but you will leave the encounter knowing you’ve been heard. Good leaders stay connected to the people in the community, especially those with whom they disagree.

thing as a “non-anxious” leader. But good leaders know what to do with their anxiety. I’ve been privileged to be part of a small group of people with whom Ted seeks advice or, sometimes, lets off steam. I know what he’s doing: he’s finding a place to let go of some of the anxiety he feels about whatever he has to do or say, and he’s rehearsing whether and how he wants to do or say it. Good leaders don’t add their own anxiety to an already anxious situation. They find a place to release it where it won’t do harm, and then tend to making the situation better.

Austin Seminary has a universe of things to thank Ted Wardlaw for. But amidst all the accolades, I hope we will remember what may be his most lasting lesson: how to be a leader. Thank you, Ted. And God bless you in your retirement.

– The Reverend Dr. Paul Hooker Associate Dean for Ministerial Formation and Advanced Studies (2012-2021)

Keep watch over yourselves and over all the flock, of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God that he obtained with the blood of his own Son. - Acts 20:28

Keeping watch. That’s my friend, Wardlaw.

Theodore J. Wardlaw (Ted to his friends; Wardlaw to this friend), through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, has faithfully kept watch over Christ’s mission known as Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary for two decades. But as the text in Acts implies, keeping watch is no passive kind of thing. Rather, it requires action and activity and a constant state of readiness. Therefore, it is no easy task but an extraordinary calling; a gift to be shared and burden to be borne.

I have two favorite images of my friend Wardlaw that I would like to share with you.

The first image is a portrait of President Wardlaw serving communion in the seminary chapel. In that image, the outstretched hand of the communicant meets the extended hand of the pastor through a piece of bread—the body of Christ. The servant’s stole represents the most important duty of what it means for this shepherd of God to keep watch over the flock. And there is a smile; a gentle smile, given and received. It is a perfect image of a holy moment.

The second image that comes to mind of my friend Wardlaw is far more profane. It is still shepherd like, in the way that shepherds were both caring and profane, but it’s holy too. One summer weekend, after a long General Assembly meeting, Ted and Kay joined our family at our northern Wisconsin lake home. My wife and I have three sons. In those years, they ranged in age from pre-teen to early adolescence, and the lake was a place where they could fish, light firecrackers, catch crawdads, and generally be disgusting human beings with nobody watching or telling them to straighten their shirts.

One of the really beautiful things about Oxbow Lake is that there are generally no people. Our family boat shared the lake with loons and mosquitos. And so it happened that Ted and Kay arrived just in time for our most profane family lake tradition—the annual Bullock boy burp-off. Every summer, I would make a pilgrimage to the Dollar Store to buy prizes for five different categories: the longest burp, loudest burp, most creative burp, most disgusting burp, and longest burp sentence. And, much to the surprise of our sons, their invitation to participate in the contest was not declined by President Wardlaw. In fact, he participated with great gusto. And, if my memory serves, he might even have won a prize.

Over dinner one evening our now 24-year-old son perked up a bit when I shared the news of Ted’s impending retirement with Dana. “Was he your friend that joined us on the lake?” my son inquired. “Yes,” I answered. “I remember him,” he said. “He was one of the cool ones.”

Enough said.

– The Reverend Dr. Jeffrey Bullock President of University of Dubuque