Not long ago, I came across the word hubris in a newspaper column. In Greek mythology, hubris described a person so swollen with pride that he dared to challenge the gods—only to meet inevitable destruction. Pride does not simply precede failure; it prepares the way for it.
Quoting historian Arnold Toynbee, the columnist defined hubris in leadership this way: “When a small group of successful leaders becomes intoxicated by their success, isolates itself behind a human curtain, loses intellectual and moral balance, and ultimately forfeits sound judgment.”
Success can be a subtle intoxicant.
Six months into his presidency, President Moon Jae-in held a public approval rating of 72 percent according to Gallup Korea—an extraordinary level of support. At that point in history, only President Kim Young-sam had enjoyed a higher rating, at 83 percent. With numbers like these, it would be easy—almost imperceptible—to fall into hubris. And yet, the end of hubris is decline. President Kim left office with a 6 percent approval rating; President Park Geun-hye finished at 5 percent.
Economist Meghnad Desai has argued that even the 2008 European financial crisis went largely unpredicted by leading economists because of hubris. Scripture echoes this timeless truth: “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18).
A Different Measure of Leadership
Rev. Tamang, president of the Nepal Christian Fellowship (NCFN), names a different cornerstone of leadership: faithfulness.
Sitting in his church office in Kathmandu, he showed me a framed family photograph.
“This is my son,” he said quietly. “He passed away at twenty-five from a stomach ulcer complication. This is my wife. She went to be with the Lord nine years ago after a heart attack.”
Having lost both his only son and his wife, he now lives with a nephew while continuing his pastoral ministry. He told me that he had prayed countless times, crying out, “Why have You allowed this to happen to me?” Yet heaven remained silent.
I asked him how he could continue in ministry through such pain.
His answer was simple:
“The Lord’s calling upon me has been faithful.”
That was all.
He planted his church in 1977. Over the past forty years, he has sent out 66 church plants, established 36 as fully independent congregations, and now oversees 30 daughter churches. The main church campus is remarkably large by mission-field standards. At one point, attendance outgrew seating capacity, so instead of expanding his own platform, he planted four additional churches nearby to distribute the members. Today, there is ample room.
Explosive growth. Structural success. National recognition. Any of these could have fueled hubris. Add to that the unseen personal trials and inevitable criticisms that accompany ministry, and the weight becomes unimaginable.
And yet here stands a man broken in all the right ways—tempered by suffering, emptied of self-importance, and anchored in humility. In Nepal, where there are approximately 1.1 million Christians, NCFN represents more than 2,000 member churches and 800,000 believers. Rev. Tamang has now been elected to his fourth three-year term as president. He carries the responsibility not with ambition, but with quiet faithfulness.
The Gospel’s Bypass
Christmas is near.
Two thousand years ago, when angels announced the birth of Christ, they did not appear before emperors or religious elites. They came to shepherds keeping watch over their flocks at night (Luke 2:8–14). Shepherding was not a prestigious profession then; it was humble and often overlooked. Yet to those who faithfully guarded what had been entrusted to them, the Savior’s birth was proclaimed.
Moses was called while tending sheep. David was called while tending sheep.
Luke’s Gospel meticulously lists the political and religious authorities of the time—Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate, Herod, Philip, Lysanias, Annas, Caiaphas—only to make a startling point: “The word of God came to John, son of Zechariah, in the wilderness” (Luke 3:1–2).
Consider the bypass of the Gospel.
The Word of God passed over the powerful rulers of the world and came instead to John the Baptist—faithfully fulfilling his calling in a barren wilderness, unnoticed and uncelebrated.
Leadership Is Character
Leadership is not a technique for organizational growth. It is not managerial magic. Leadership is character. It is a posture of life.
A leader who fails to cultivate faithfulness and humility in the inner life may gradually morph into a creature of hubris. And the more successful such a leader becomes, the closer he may be moving toward collapse.
Jesus reminds us:
“Whoever is faithful in very little is faithful also in much, and whoever is dishonest in very little is dishonest also in much” (Luke 16:10).
And again:
“Well done, good and faithful servant… You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master” (Matthew 25:21).
The world celebrates visibility.
Heaven honors faithfulness.
And in the end, only one of those endures.