Ring the Tuning Fork, Part 1: Vision Drift
Issue 048
JANUARY 16, 2018
In the windy city of Chicago, during the fall of 1982, seven people died after taking Tylenol laced with cyanide. The media went into a frenzy linking Tylenol, the leading painkiller, with death. Quickly the FDA and FBI met with the CEO of Johnson and Johnson (the holding company of Tylenol), James Burke.
Surprisingly, both the FDA and FBI recommended for a small recall of the product that only included the city of Chicago; however, Burke was not content with that. The next day Johnson and Johnson began a national recall of 31 million bottles of Tylenol. This cost the company nearly 250 million dollars.
This begs the question, why? Why would a publicly traded company choose, against the advice of federal officials, to spend significantly more money on a recall? Burke points to Johnson and Johnson's credo, which states, "We believe our first responsibility is to the patients, doctors and nurses, to mothers and fathers and all others who use our products and services. In meeting their needs everything we do must be of high quality...We are responsible to our employees who work with us throughout the world."
Burke understood that Johnson and Johnson's first responsibility was not to it's stock holders, but to all who use their products. He understood that Johnson and Johnson was responsible to all of it's employees watching the news in horror. All of those employees signed that credo.
Because Johnson and Johnson continually realigned themselves with their credo, they were prepared for this crisis. In the next few years all of their employees were involved in the process of redesigning safer systems and packaging to ensure the event would not happen again. They met with doctors to open conversation about what steps they had taken and openly listened to concerns.
Today, Johnson and Johnson is a case study for business students on crisis management. The entire company was able to operate in sync and make decisions on the spot because they all understood what their role was in the crisis. It was to serve "the patients, doctors and nurses, [the] mothers and fathers..."
VISION DRIFT
Vision drift is a natural part of life. We are constantly making course corrections. In flight, most planes are off course 99% of the time. The role of the pilot is to continually course correct. In my life, I have found each turn of the year as a sacred time to course correct.
Over the next couple of weeks we will be providing practices and strategies to help you course correct your microchurch and personal journey. We are ringing the tuning fork that you may remember why you started this journey - that you may again think on the credo that motivated you to begin your microchurch or personal work.
My point is not that we should be doing the same thing at all times, but rather we should ensure that we are moving in the right direction. Our plans will change. Many times they must change, but our vision, our idea of what could and should be, will remain the same.
It may be helpful here to distinguish vision from mission here.
A vision is a perceived future. Vision is long-term. Typically, it is infinitely large. For CVS Pharmacy, their vision is "We strive to improve the quality of human life."
A mission is how you plan to accomplish that said vision. It is not infinitely large and should be accomplished regularly. For CVS Pharmacy, their mission is "We will be the easiest pharmacy retailer for customers to use."
As you meet with your current microchurch or plan a future ministry, think of your vision and mission. Check-in with yourself to see how you can course correct.
If you'd like an exercise to start with, our campus microchurches are completing this statement:
If your microchurch never existed, the world would be worse off because _______________.