Power isn’t something to fear or hoard—it’s something to steward. This reflection by Caroline Lancaster explores how Asian American Christian leaders can own and steward their power faithfully in the way of Jesus.

When Power Feels Icky

As Asian American Christians, power can feel like an icky word. Desiring power feels in tension with qualities we seek to emulate as followers of Jesus (or at least teach others to emulate): humility, gentleness, and sacrificial love. Desiring power can also be in tension with our cultural values of submitting to those in authority and honoring our elders. While “servant leadership” draws on the other-centering, hierarchy-disrupting, generous love of Christ, it is a principle that has too often been used to constrain women’s participation in the life of the church or to promote sacrifice beyond healthy limits.

The wounds and scars of being on the receiving end of distortions of power, at times even from within the Church, can still feel fresh. In contexts where positional authority equates with spiritual authority, a lack of obedience or alignment with leaders is tantamount to disobeying God.  As my career and influence grew, an underlying current of anxiety held me back as a leader: What if I replicate the toxic behavior that I have seen in others? 

Avoiding power doesn’t make it disappear, but an unexamined relationship with power will show up in our leadership. Recognizing and stewarding power for the sake of others can model healthy leadership and cultivate flourishing. 

Power Can Look Like Me

Feeling powerless and being ignored were familiar experiences for me as an Indian American woman navigating the world. I so deeply internalized these gendered and racial realities that it skewed my awareness of my own power. 

Even though I had been working for a Christian organization for about eight years and had risen to a national role in the organization, I did not expect others to recognize me. At a conference for Asian American staff, I introduced myself to the speaker. He blinked, slightly confused: “…I know who you are.” I was genuinely surprised to be known. It changed my perspective.

As I spent time with my South Asian colleagues, I started seeing myself through the younger staff’s eyes. As they recounted their challenges and burst with energy over new ideas, I realized I was not just a mentor. They saw me through the lens of my position: I led a national department—which translated to national access and therefore the ability to influence change. Me?! I’m just a middle manager.

I had been socialized to believe I had no agency—that power belonged to other people, in other rooms, but I was sitting on it all along. I couldn’t see the power I had because I never thought that power could look like me.

Rethinking Power: Stewardship, Not Abdication

A former manager once pointed out that we often perceive those above us as the ones who hold power. From my position, I might see where decision-making power resides—and realize it’s often not with me. But for those I supervise or mentor, I work alongside and have access to decision makers. That proximity equates to influence.

As Asian American leaders, we may downplay our power. In an earnest desire to remain accessible, our titles or influence might feel like a barrier to genuine connection. Dismissiveness of our power might stem from feeling like we don’t have a voice in the spaces we find ourselves in; our own positional authority might not carry the weight it does for others. Or, in response to the abuses of power we’ve witnessed or experienced, we just want nothing to do with it. But abdication of power isn’t humility—it’s a neglect of stewardship. 

As leaders in our workplaces, churches, or communities, the reality is we have power, even when we don’t feel it. Stewardship begins with awareness. And awareness helps us resist the toxic leadership we don’t want to replicate.

Power in Service of Others

In my journey, awareness included assessing where I actually held power: my position, tenure, relationships, teaching and resourcing, and—most of all—the teams I led. Even in my social location as an able-bodied, religious-majority, heterosexual, middle-class, educated citizen, I carried more power than I realized.

Rather than fear, avoid, crave, or abdicate power, I had to learn to steward it. My ethic of stewardship is shaped by Christ, who in humility did not center himself but centered the interests of others (Phil. 2:4). In the competitive backdrop of our capitalistic society (a context that also shapes the Church in America and Christian spaces), Christ’s actions seem foolish: Jesus “did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself” (Phil 2:6-7, NRSVue). Our society encourages grasping after power and privilege. The realities of our society might make it tempting to participate in this grasp for power. It even benefits us when we are aligned with whiteness or push profits over people or dismiss misogynistic comments as just guys messing around. We can strive to earn a seat at the table, but at what cost? Do we stop to consider who the table serves? Sometimes the stewardship of power is recognizing that we already have agency to make new tables. Jesus—God incarnate—models another way of relating to power: generous self-giving for the sake of others. 

Putting Stewardship into Practice

As a manager, stewarding power reshaped my leadership to be value-aligned. I had the power to adjust timelines, build rhythms of celebration, and cultivate honest feedback. I evaluated how I led my meetings and assessed inclusivity within our department. When interfacing with national directors, I shared stories from the field—advocating for staff who lacked visibility. Stewardship of power can look like large, systemic shifts (e.g. addressing pay inequity). But it can also look ordinary: communicating clear expectations, refusing to let “urgent” work eat into prayer, incorporating play, and valuing people over what we produce. As leaders, reshaping the practices and habits that create the culture of the team or community is directing power towards lasting impact.

How Asian American Christian Leaders Can Steward Power

• Do the Inner Work: Explore your relationship with power. Pay attention to resentment, desire, and powerlessness. Pursuing healing through therapy or spiritual direction can help us avoid misusing power from our wounded places.

• Assess Your Power: Consider your contexts—work, church, family, community—and name the influence you carry. Power takes many shapes: relational, positional, gender-based, generational, racial.
  Reflect: Compare what it would look like to use this influence for self-interest versus the
  flourishing of others.

• Practice Small Stewardship: Reflect on recent team meetings or one-on-ones. What would outsiders say you value based on those interactions? Choose one value you want to surface next time and identify one small way to incorporate it. 

We Are a Gift to Those We Lead

A former teammate once told me how deeply impactful my leadership had been in her life. I was moved and a little surprised. I knew I could be a good leader, but I had underestimated how my embodied leadership as an Indian American woman could be such a gift. 

We are a gift to those we lead. What a profound witness when Asian American Christian leaders pursue deep healing and model healthy leadership. Like Christ, whose generous self-giving love was poured out for others, our other-oriented stewardship of power can cultivate the flourishing of those around us. We may be the only example of healthy leadership others experience—but we get to reshape the narrative of what it means to be distinctly, beautifully Asian American, Christian, and a leader.

Check out Caroline Lancaster’s interview on the Khora Collective webinar where she talks with Yulee Lee on stewarding power, avoiding harmful leadership patterns, and embracing authority with humility.