Service with a smile: complaining about our leaders won't lead to any actual change. Instead, we must model servant leadership.

PEOPLE LIKE TO COMPLAIN. Sometimes I think complaining has become the one true international pastime. We grouse about the government, the economy, and the world situation, of course.

We also have nothing good to say about the weather: It's always too cold, hot, wet, snowy, or windy. We grumble about our family members and about the staggering number of bad choices our friends and coworkers are capable of making on a daily basis. If we're Catholic, we mourn the dire state of the church; this is true whether we're reactionary, conservative, liberal, radical, or lapsed.

The winter of our discontent seems endless. My pal Sheila is a case in point. No matter where we go to dinner (I wouldn't dream of cooking for her), she finds fault with the food. I've taken her to restaurants I can ill afford on my budget, hoping just once that she won't send back the entree and ask for changes. But she does every time.

She even sends back her drinks, insisting the bartender didn't follow her instructions explicitly, and refuses wine that has been uncorked and poured. She pushes away every dessert as if it were laced with poison and declares each meal an unqualified disaster.

I've asked Sheila about her restaurant behavior, and she replies that it's all about service. She pays for good service and expects it. Restaurants are in business to please the customer, and she's just trying to get what pleases her. She points out that it's wrong of me to eat limp broccoli without protest or to accept the side order of potatoes when I asked for the cole slaw. The reason customer service is in such a state of decline in this country is because people have become sheep, she says. They don't demand what's rightfully theirs; they put up with inferior treatment, shoddy production, or bad quality, and so businesses just keep dishing it out.

What can I say to that? I like my broccoli limp. And I don't really have strong feelings about potatoes or cole slaw. I also know that people make mistakes. I tend to presume everyone is doing their best, and I'm prepared to cut them some slack even when they aren't. Hey, maybe the kid is sick at home or the spouse is beginning to wander. Maybe there are reasons the server is distracted. I'm happy just to be sitting in a restaurant having a meal with a friend.

Dining out is certainly an uneven experience, but the tendency to criticize can also become reflexive. It may be rooted in a subterranean river of frustration or anger in our lives of which we are not even conscious. But is there never a time when being critical is the right response? Are there not circumstances under which we have a right, even an obligation, to protest loud and long?

WHEN IT COMES TO THE QUALITY OF OUR LEADERSHIP, some thoughtful, engaged criticism is often vital. A little praise when merited is also helpful. But we also have to be clear about the terms of our engagement. Not all media-wailing about leadership is created equal, for example. Most of it is self-serving--to sell papers or to garner viewer eyeballs. Political election campaigns on both sides of the aisle, negotiated in such an environment, have become such obscenely funded media circuses that they've lost all reasonable analytical value.

Are there issues we should consider regarding our candidates? Absolutely. Will we ever hear about them? This is highly doubtful. In the same way, media engagement with religion and its personalities is perennially sensational and inflammatory. It is rarely critical in a thoughtful way. Think of everything you've read about the last pope or the present one and you get the idea.

But if the media are not the role models for how we might critically evaluate our leadership, where should we look? Christians, naturally, look to Jesus.

On the subject of religious leadership, Jesus offers an unflinching assessment in terms that are unvarnished and straightforward. He begins by pointing out that the leaders of his day sat on the chair of Moses; that is, they based their teachings on the greatest Jewish teacher of all. So their teachings were sound; it was the rest that was suspect, Jesus said.

I OFFER THIS REASONING TO ANYONE WHO ASKS ME HOW, IN the 21st century, in light of the latest religious scandal or hypocrisy or pronouncement, I can remain Catholic. The chair of Peter is the chair of Peter. The one who sits on it or derives his authority from that chain of command may not always be my cup of tea, but I accept the foundation nonetheless. In the same way, I pledge my allegiance to this country even when the elected officials are not the folks I voted for. Should I run red lights when the other party is in office?

Jesus makes a very strong statement about how to deal with bad leadership in an otherwise good system: Give attention to their words, but don't follow their example. Jesus doesn't resort to mudslinging to prove his premise that the leaders are hypocrites, he lays out the facts in unadorned sentences so we can consider them for ourselves.

The leaders are hypocritical, saying one thing but doing the opposite. They make moral demands on others that they do not shoulder themselves. They love the outward show: the costume, the ceremony, the perks, and the titles. This lack of integrity coupled with misplaced emphasis demonstrates the unreliability of their witness. Simply put, by their own actions they forfeit their authority.

But Jesus doesn't end his analysis with a criticism of how his present-day leaders behaved, he offers a model for what true leadership should look like: The greatest must be the servant of all. The humble one will be exalted.

These are good words to live by in our critique of leadership--religious or secular. Who has demonstrated leadership with integrity, depth, and humility? Who shuns outward signs of privilege and serves the last and the least? Such leaders not only sit in seats of power but also derive their authority by honoring the foundation that supports them.

On the other hand, those who are obviously pleased to be in charge and who show no regard for the weak and lowly reveal their false hearts by doing so. We have no obligation to follow their leadership--though they may mouth wisdom and values that we ourselves profess. Even a hypocrite can, and often does, tell the truth.

THE CAUTION HERE IS TO REMEMBER THAT WE'RE DEALING with human beings, people with checkered hearts and variable motives. Most popes after the sixth century were not added to the canon of saints, and it's not that they were bad guys. Most of us won't be added to the canon of saints either, so we shouldn't be surprised when a particular leader is admirable in some ways and disappointing in others. Even our most revered presidents--Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Roosevelt--have many kinks in their haloes.

So you wind up with a pastor who's a loving person but a lousy preacher. Or maybe your governor couldn't keep his marriage together but he did right by the public schools. Some folks will demonize the boss for the very same reasons you are loyal to her. In our critical assessment of whom to follow among a selection of imperfect people, we have to look at the big picture and determine not simply what they say but how deeply they are rooted in the source of their authority. Are they playing a game of authority in powerful chairs, or do they shoulder the burden they are asking others to carry?

My friend Sheila is right about one thing: It really is all about service, although not necessarily the kind she means. Jesus made service his litmus test for leadership.

THE GREATEST OF ALL MUST BE THE SERVANT OF ALL--AND in case we need a demonstration of how this works, Jesus shouldered our burdens all the way to the cross. This means we ought to see sweat on the brows of our leaders, and not only when they are being grilled by reporters. They can't just tell us they feel our pain unless they also reveal their wounds. They can't demand sacrifices of us they don't intend to share.

But there's more to this leadership thing than meets the eye. It's not just about politicians, bishops, and bosses. Parents also lead. So do teachers and coaches. And so do we all--spouses, neighbors, coworkers, and friends--by the example we set for those around us.

If I'm an inconsiderate neighbor, that sets the scene for possible retaliation. If I practice gracious driving habits, that could help take the edge off a more frantic driver. If I treat children with respect and kindness, they will learn those qualities. If I'm an inaccessible spouse, I shouldn't be surprised when a door is closed to me.

The bottom line is, if we think we know the direction our leaders should be going, we ought to just head that way ourselves. Either that, or we can just stay right here and complain some more.

By ALICE CAMILLE, author of God's Word is Alive! (Twenty-Third Publications) and A Faith Interrupted (Loyola Press).