What can horses teach us about Christian leadership? More than you might think at first. While working with animals, Monty Roberts discovered an astonishing truth: Trust is not built through pressure, but through sensitive perception, pausing, and willing cooperation. Yet this very principle is reflected surprisingly deeply in the Bible—right down to Jesus and his understanding of dominion, authority, and leadership. By Kai Mester

Reading time: 21 minutes

There’s a moment that probably everyone who has ever tried to win someone over to a good cause is familiar with.

You have good arguments. You’ve thought it through. Maybe the cause is even objectively right. You explain it again, a little more clearly this time. The other person reacts cautiously. So you explain it a third time. They become even quieter.
And at some point they say, “Yeah, it’s okay.”
The conversation is over. The problem seems to be solved.
But something isn’t quite resolved.
The other person has agreed outwardly, but inwardly, they haven’t really bought into it.

This happens in churches. In families, friendships, leadership teams, and marriages. Sometimes it isn’t until weeks later that you realize what happened in that one conversation: Someone becomes less involved, stops contributing ideas, avoids certain topics, or withdraws entirely.
The decision was made.
But the relationship that was supposed to support that decision has been damaged.
It’s precisely at this point that a line of thought begins—one that initially led me down an unusual detour: horses.

What a Horse Has Over a Human

Monty Roberts, who has become known worldwide for his work with horses, has observed something that can be an uncomfortable lesson for a person in a position of power: You can physically force a horse to do something. But that is far from creating a trusting partnership.
Roberts developed his “Join-Up” approach as a form of communication in which the horse is not simply to be subjugated through coercion, but rather trust and voluntary cooperation are to be fostered. One can debate his exact method and its scientific evaluation. What is crucial is the more fundamental observation: Anyone who wants to understand an animal should take its resistance seriously as a signal.
When a horse suddenly stops moving forward, a good trainer first assesses what has happened.
Is the animal frightened? Is the task too difficult? Was the rider moving too fast? Was a signal given in a way that could be misunderstood? Has a limit been reached?
The response is not automatically to apply more pressure.
Rather, it might be to slow down, ease off the pressure, establish a sense of security, and try again at a different level.

Monty Roberts’ German student, Andrea Kutsch, has further developed these ideas in her own training approach and more closely integrated them with insights into learning, behavior, and communication. Here, too, one can debate specific methods. Yet one insight runs through modern work with animals: Successful training depends not only on what the trainer wants to achieve, but on what is actually happening inside the animal at that moment.
And this brings us right to the heart of the Christian leadership question.
For while people are not horses,
people, too, can go through the motions outwardly while being mentally disengaged.

The Invisible Boundary

Let’s imagine a church committee.
The church leader has a well-prepared proposal. Time is tight. Someone on the team raises concerns.
The church leader responds in detail.
The objection is refuted objectively.
The person in question says nothing more.
The next item on the agenda comes up.
On paper, everything went well.
But perhaps something changed at that very moment—something that won’t appear in any minutes.
The person in question has learned:
“My objections aren’t really welcome here.”
Next time, he says less. The time after that, nothing at all. Eventually, he might stop coming altogether.
And the church leader wonders: “Why are people pulling back? Why aren’t they contributing anymore?”
The answer may lie much earlier.
Not in a wrong decision.
But in an unnoticed moment of inner withdrawal.

This is a dangerous form of inefficient leadership because it looks like efficiency for a long time. Decisions were made quickly, conflicts were avoided, and peace was restored.
But the price is paid later: in silence, avoidance, inner reservations, and ultimately open conflict.

The Bible Begins with Stewardship

And now it gets theologically interesting.
The Bible does not begin with a textbook on church organization, but with creation. And in the midst of this creation, humanity is given a mandate:
“Let us make humankind in our image, after our likeness! Let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the sky, over the livestock and over all the earth.” (Genesis 1:26)
To rule.
A powerful word.
Over the centuries, we have filled it with notions of power, subordination, and control. But if humanity is created in God’s image, a crucial question arises:
How does God rule?
For if humanity is to represent God’s image, its way of ruling must be modeled after God’s way of ruling.
And here, the Bible corrects our understanding of power. Human beings are not simply made owners of creation. They are given responsibility for it. In Eden, Adam is placed in the garden “to cultivate and care for it” (Genesis 2:15).
Rule and stewardship go hand in hand.
Power becomes responsibility.

The God Who Courts Hearts

When we read the history of Israel from this perspective, a pattern emerges that is easily overlooked.
God calls.
Israel does not respond.
God waits.
Israel drifts further away.
God warns.
Israel ignores the warning.
God allows consequences to take effect.
And afterward, He calls them again to repentance.

Hosea is particularly striking. God speaks of Israel as He would of a child: “It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking him in my arms.” (Hosea 11:3) A few verses later it says: “I led them with human cords, with bonds of love.” (Hosea 11:4)
What an unusual image for divine guidance.
God draws.
But with cords of love.
And in that very same chapter, we see just how seriously human freedom is taken. Israel goes its own way, and God allows the consequences of that path to unfold. Judgment thus does not appear as the whim of an offended ruler, but as part of a tragic story of a relationship.
And then comes one of the most heart-wrenching sentences in the Old Testament:
“How can I give you up, Ephraim? […] My heart is turned within me; my compassion is aroused.” (Hosea 11:8)
This is not a God who is indifferent to people the moment they disobey.
It is a God who takes the freedom of his creatures seriously and yet, by every means consistent with his nature of love, seeks to win their hearts.

Love Allows for Freedom

Here is a point that can transform our understanding of God’s power:
God is almighty. But he has chosen to remain true to his own nature.
“God is love.” (1 John 4:8)
If love is to be genuine, it cannot be forced.
One can silence a person, intimidate them, or coerce them into performing an action.
But one cannot create love in this way.
Nor can one force genuine trust.
God’s guidance of humanity is therefore marked by a unique tension: God possesses infinite power and yet respects the freedom of His creatures.
He courts the heart.
He persuades.
He warns.
He waits.
He corrects.
He allows consequences.
He forgives.
He calls again.
His power is not used to force love, but to create opportunities time and again for a voluntary response.

Then Jesus comes—and makes it visible

What is hinted at throughout the Old Testament becomes visible in the life of Jesus.
The disciples grapple with the question: Who is the greatest?
Jesus turns their entire understanding of leadership upside down:
“You know that the rulers of the nations oppress them, and the powerful exercise their authority over them. It shall not be so among you.” (Matthew 20:25–26)
It shall not be so among you.

Jesus does not say, “Do exactly the same, but be kinder about it.”
He says, “It shall not be so among you.”
The world knows a form of leadership based on power over others.
Jesus introduces a counter-logic:
“Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant.” (Matthew 20:26)
And then he explains it using himself as an example:
“The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28)
This is where the real revolution takes place.
The greatest becomes a servant.

The shepherd who does not force his way behind the sheep

Jesus uses an image for this that cannot be overestimated in Christian leadership: the image of the shepherd.
“I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” (John 10:11)
The good shepherd knows his sheep:
“I know my own, and my own know me.” (John 10:14)
And then Jesus says:
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27)
Why do they follow him?
Because they know his voice.
The relationship is the prerequisite for following.
This is a completely different leadership model than: “You must follow me because I am above you.”
The shepherd leads the way. The sheep follow.
And between the two there is something that cannot be established by force:
Trust.

What do we do when someone stops following?

This is where it becomes clear whether we have truly understood this principle.
A child talks back.
A spouse withdraws.
An employee falls silent.
A church member suddenly stops participating.
A friend responds only in monosyllables.
What is our first reaction?
Many of us know the temptation: We turn up the pressure.
We explain it again. We argue more forcefully. We assert our position. We might even quote a Bible verse.
Yet the exact opposite may be necessary.

When someone can no longer keep up, a stronger push isn’t necessarily what’s needed at first.
What’s needed is awareness.
What happened?
Was I moving too fast? Did I overlook something? Is the other person afraid? Do they feel devalued? Is something unclear to them? Have they reached their limit?
The key point is:
RESISTANCE IS, AT FIRST, INFORMATION. IT IS NOT YET A MORAL DIAGNOSIS.

The Lost Art of Pausing

Let’s imagine a horse suddenly begins to back away in the middle of an exercise.
An inexperienced person might think: “Now I have to assert myself.”
An experienced trainer might pause first—not because the horse is automatically right, but because its behavior is communicating something.
Perhaps a slight modification of the task is all it takes. Perhaps a smaller step is needed. Perhaps the first step is to regain trust.
This logic cannot be applied one-to-one to people. But it reveals a human truth:
Those who can no longer keep up internally may continue outwardly through additional pressure—but not necessarily internally.

This applies just as much to parenting as it does to leadership.
A child may stop objecting because they’ve learned that objecting is pointless.
An employee may agree because their opinion won’t change anything anyway.
A spouse may remain silent because any further conversation will only escalate the situation.
A congregation may appear harmonious on the surface because people have learned to no longer address conflicts.
That is not true harmony.
It is avoidance.

The Most Dangerous Form of Agreement

There is a kind of agreement that should make a leader proud.
And there is a kind of agreement that should concern them.
The first is:
“I see your point and would like to go along with this.”
The second:
“There’s no point in saying anything anyway.”
From the outside, both can look identical.
That’s why good leadership distinguishes between outward participation and inner alignment.
This doesn’t mean that a leader constantly needs everyone’s agreement. That wouldn’t be leadership anymore.
It means that they take responsibility for how people arrive at a decision.

You can make a clear decision and still ask:
“How does this decision make you feel?”
You can stand by a conviction and still say:
“I can tell you’re not on board right now. Let’s talk about it.”
You can set a boundary while still protecting the other person’s dignity.
Clarity and empathy are not opposites.

The Difference Between Giving In and Backing Off

When we say that pressure should be reduced in the face of resistance, some people immediately think:
“Then a leader can’t make any decisions anymore.”
But that’s not what we mean.
A good father can say, “No, you can’t do that.”
A teacher can say, “This assignment needs to be completed.”
A supervisor can say, “This decision has been made.”
A church leader can say, “We’ve chosen this path.”
Leadership sometimes requires clarity.
But clarity on the matter does not justify harshness in the relationship.

I can say: “I’m sticking with this decision.”
and at the same time: “I’d like to understand why you’re having such a hard time with this.”

I can say: “This boundary remains.”
and at the same time: “I won’t shame you for struggling with it.”

I can say, “We’re moving forward.”
and still add, “If you can’t keep up right now, we’ll wait a moment.”

That’s not weakness. That’s mature authority.

Peter understood this

It’s remarkable that Peter of all people—the impulsive, sometimes domineering Peter—later gave the church leaders this very advice:
“Shepherd the flock of God … not by lording it over those entrusted to you, but by being examples to the flock.” (1 Peter 5:2–3)
He contrasts two models:
Ruling over people
and
Being a role model.
Those who control people need their dependence.
Those who develop people want them to mature.
The difference is enormous.

What happens to a team when trust is lacking?

You can also view these principles objectively from the perspective of efficiency.
In a group without trust, everyone must expend energy on protecting themselves:
How do I phrase this without turning anyone against me?
Am I even allowed to say that?
Will my idea be rejected?
Should I just not write anything at all?
This lowers the quality of communication. People contribute less. Problems are addressed later. Mistakes are kept secret. Conflicts play out beneath the surface.
Management must exercise ever-greater control. And the more control it exercises, the less initiative there is.
A vicious cycle begins:
less trust → more control → less freedom → less openness → less information → worse decisions → even more control.

Conversely, a positive cycle emerges:
more security → more openness → more information → better decisions → more participation → more responsibility → more trust.
Trust is therefore not just a nice bonus in a functioning community.
It is the infrastructure for collaboration.

This also applies to marriage and family

A similar cycle can develop within a marriage.
One person criticizes. The other withdraws. This withdrawal is perceived as indifference. So the criticism intensifies. The other person withdraws even further.
To an outsider, it might eventually seem as though, “We hardly ever argue anymore.”
In reality, both partners have learned to avoid certain topics altogether.
The relationship has become calmer.
But not necessarily healthier.

That’s why good communication doesn’t always start with solving the problem more quickly. Sometimes it begins with restoring the sense of safety needed to even address the problem in the first place.
“I want to understand you.”
“I get the impression that you’re shutting down right now. Is that true?”
“I think I went too far just now.”
“Let’s take a step back for a moment.”
Statements like these don’t automatically resolve a conflict. But they can prevent a conflict from turning into a breakdown in the relationship.

The Pace of the Slower Heart

From this,we can derive a simple principle:
A shared journey can only proceed as fast as those involved can keep up with it internally.
This doesn’t mean that the most anxious person always sets the pace. But it does mean that resistance is taken seriously.

When someone becomes afraid, a sense of security must be restored.
When someone feels misunderstood, understanding is needed.
When someone is overwhelmed, it may help to scale back the task.
When someone feels hurt, reconciliation may be needed first.

Only then does the next step truly make sense.
That sounds slower.
In practice, it can be surprisingly fast.
Because you don’t need to constantly push people who have trust. They take responsibility, contribute ideas, address problems early on, dare to make mistakes, and help one another.
And eventually, something emerges that no leader can create alone:
synergy.

The True Revolution of Christian Leadership

This brings us back to Jesus’ statement:
“But among you it shall not be so.” (Matthew 20:26)
We have often interpreted this as a call for greater humility. That is true—but it is not enough.
Jesus is describing a different model of power.

The world asks:
How much power do I have over others?
Jesus asks:
How much responsibility am I willing to take on for others?

The world asks:
How do I get my way?
Jesus asks:
How can I help people discover things for themselves and grow?

The world asks:
How do I prevent resistance?
Jesus asks:
What does resistance tell me about people and about how I treat them?

The world asks:
How quickly can we achieve results?
Jesus asks:
What happens to people’s hearts in the process?

This is no less leadership.
It is a different definition of leadership.

Dominion as the Image of God

Humans are to rule over the animals.
But they are to rule as the image of God.
If we want to know what this rule should look like, we must therefore not look first to human power structures.
We look to God. And ultimately to Jesus:

The ruler becomes a shepherd.
The shepherd becomes a servant.
The servant washes the feet of his disciples.
And the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

This is the movement of the Bible:
Rule becomes responsibility.
Power becomes service.
Leadership becomes relationship.
Authority becomes trust.
And in the end, there is not a person who walks brokenly behind his leader.
But a person who knows the voice of the shepherd.

Winning Hearts

This thread leads us back to a question that goes deeper than any method of coaching or communication:
What does God actually want to achieve through His guidance of humanity?
Obviously not merely outward obedience.
The Bible speaks again and again of the heart. “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” (Proverbs 4:23) And when God calls His people to repentance, it is not merely about them resuming certain actions. It is about their hearts finding their way back to God.

That is why God’s guidance is so astonishingly patient. He does not simply force the desired behavior. He courts the person himself:
“Return to me,” says the LORD of Hosts, “and I will return to you.” (Zechariah 1:3)
That is the language of relationship.
God does not merely want Israel to “function” again. He wants Israel to find its way back to Him.

This touches on the very core of what Christian leadership should be. That is why we would do well to ask ourselves: Have the people around us become more free, mature, and courageous on the inside—or more cautious, dependent, and silent?
This is precisely the difference between genuine leadership and the mere exercise of power.
A leader can get people to do something. He can enforce rules, break down resistance, and force decisions. He can even produce results very quickly.
But if, in the process, people learn to keep their concerns to themselves, avoid conflict, shut down emotionally, or simply do only what is expected of them, no real efficiency is achieved. What results is false efficiency.

Outwardly, the work may seem to move faster. But the energy lost in terms of trust, initiative, openness, and shared responsibility will come at a high cost later on.
True leadership, on the other hand, is far more efficient because people don’t just carry out tasks—they take on responsibility.

When trust is present, people speak up sooner about what isn’t working. They contribute their ideas. They dare to admit mistakes. They address tensions before they turn into conflicts. They don’t need to be constantly monitored and motivated.
A person who merely cooperates carries out a task.
A person who trusts and is truly on board helps carry it forward.
And there is a huge difference between the two.

Christian leadership does not begin with: “How can I get him to do it?”
It begins with the question:
“How can I interact with this person in a way that allows trust to grow?”

That may mean taking the lead.
It may mean waiting.
It can mean setting a clear boundary.
It can mean admitting a mistake.
It can mean taking resistance seriously and pausing for a moment.
And sometimes it means letting a person go, even though you’re convinced that your own path would be the better one.
For if God Himself takes human freedom so seriously that He woos the human heart without forcing it, we must not understand Christian authority as giving us a greater right to another person’s heart than God Himself has.

We can lead. We can persuade. We can warn. We can provide guidance. But the heart belongs to the other person.
That is the greatest limitation and, at the same time, the greatest freedom of Christian leadership.

Jesus shows us what this looks like

Jesus had more authority than any person who has ever lived.
And yet we do not see in him the fear of the powerful who must constantly prove his authority.
He could correct his disciples without breaking them. He could endure their mistakes without giving up on them. He could wait until they understood something.
And after Peter’s greatest failure, he won him back not by shaming him, but by restoring their relationship and entrusting him with a mission once more.
That is the kind of leadership that wins hearts.
Not by overwhelming others, but by creating a space where trust can grow.
Not by preventing every wrong decision, but by keeping the way back open even after a misstep.
Not by belittling people so they have to follow, but by helping them grow so that they can follow willingly and out of conviction.

The shepherd does not constantly drive the sheep ahead of him.
He knows them.
He calls them.
He goes ahead of them.
And the sheep follow him because they know his voice:
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27)
This is not leadership through coercion.
It is leadership through relationship.

The Question for Us

Our churches, families, marriages, and teams should not be judged first and foremost by how well or how quietly people cooperate with us.
The much deeper question is:
How much trust is fostered by the way we lead?
Do people feel free enough to be honest with us?
Are they allowed to disagree without fear of rejection?
Can they say, “I’m not on board right now,” without us viewing that as disloyalty?
Does our leadership make people more courageous, mature, and independent?
Or do they become more cautious, more dependent, and more reticent?

And when someone shows resistance, do we first ask:
“What’s wrong with this person?”
Or can we pause and ask:
“What’s happening between us right now?”

These questions are not trivial matters of communication.
They touch the very heart of what Christian leadership should be.
Jesus did not tell us to dominate people.
He said: “You know that the rulers of the nations oppress their people… But among you it shall not be so.” (Matthew 20:25–26)
And then he presented himself as the standard: “Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant.” (Matthew 20:26)

Perhaps the entire secret of this different kind of authority can be summed up in a single sentence:
Christian leadership does not mean forcing people to follow us. It means leading in such a way that people can trust us and therefore follow us willingly.
For that is exactly how Jesus describes His own way of dealing with us.

He calls.
He waits.
He leads.
He carries.
He corrects.
He forgives.
He pursues us.
And He wins our hearts.

That is why the most important question for anyone who bears responsibility for others is not:
“How can I get them to follow me?”
But rather:
“Am I someone whose voice inspires trust?”
For in the end, this is precisely the image Jesus Himself chose to describe His relationship with people:
“I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me.” (John 10:14)
A good shepherd does not first win over the sheep’s feet.
He wins their trust.
And whoever seeks not to control a person’s heart but to win it has understood what Jesus meant by what is perhaps his most revolutionary statement on Christian leadership:
“But among you it shall not be so.” (Matthew 20:26)