Dale McGavran

How Much is Too Much?

This week I want to return to the era of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I believe that the 56 men who signed this piece of parchment don’t get the credit they deserve. Many died penniless because they put their fortunes into the war effort. Several had their homes destroyed. Some were captured and harassed by the British. Some lost family members. Most understood the risk, and signed anyway. William Williams certainly understood what was at stake, and at one point we know that he thought the worst. More on that later.

Williams originally studied theology and was going to follow his father into ministry. However, following a stint in the military during the French and Indian War, he became interested in mercantile trade. So off he went putting his efforts into building a business. By all accounts he was successful, and because of that success, he formed a multitude of business relationships. This helped him greatly as he transitioned from a private businessman to a public servant…and not just any public servant…a public servant on steroids (not literal steroids though – I’m sure you’ll get the picture, keep reading). He served as a councilman for 25 years, town clerk for 44 years, church deacon for 60 years, and in a multitude of roles in the colonial legislature for 21 years. Can you say obsessive compulsive? I wonder what he did with the 5 minutes of free time he had? Clearly he believed in a life of service, and perhaps thought of the scriptural reference, “To whom much is given, much will be required.”

As the war for independence trudged on, Williams showed that he would not only give of his time and talent, but also of his fortune. He gave a large sum of his money to raise, equip, and send troops from Connecticut to help fight the war. But as we know, the war against the British was often a dismal experience, and the consequences of signing his name was often on Williams’ mind. During one late night conversation, he and other members of a local committee were discussing the disappointing news from the war front. Williams said, “I have done much to prosecute the contest, and one thing I have done which the British will never pardon – I have signed the Declaration of Independence. I shall be hung.” One of the other men present stated that he would escape this consequence because he had not written or signed anything against the British. Williams angrily responded, “Then you, sir, deserved to be hanged for not having done your duty.” If there was any doubt on what Williams believed was the responsibility of every able-bodied man, that statement provides the answer. “To whom much is given, much will be required.”

Well, after the war one would have expected him to finally sit back in his La-Z-Boy recliner, open a good book, and take it easy. But one would be wrong. He continued in his position as a judge, something he had started the same year he signed the Declaration of Independence. He also spent time as a Connecticut state legislator. He helped frame the Articles of Confederation, the forerunner of the Constitution. Then as his hair started to grey, he became a member of the Connecticut governor’s council.

William Williams died in 1811. His tombstone includes these words, “a firm, steady, and ardent friend of his country, and in the darkest times risked his life and wealth in her defense.” Again, the thought comes to mind…“To whom much is given, much will be required.”

Leaders today would do well to learn from the life of William Williams and the other patriots who signed the document that made them targets of the British army. There was a collective purpose with these 56 men that would prove to be infinitely more important than what they could do by themselves. Just above the 56 signatures, these words close the Declaration of Independence…“And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.” (emphasis added)

To whom much is given, much will be required.

Hooper, Hooper, and Solomon…no, not the law firm

“You’re gonna need a bigger boat.” That is one of the more famous lines from a movie that has haunted me since my childhood. It’s why I won’t go swimming in the ocean. You might recognize the quote from Chief Brody in the movie “Jaws” as he discovers the behemoth shark that has been feasting on swimmers off the coast of Amity Island. “That’s a 20 footer,” says Matt Hooper the shark expert. “25” responds Quint, the boat’s captain. It is at this point where you realize that planning was not high on the list of priorities for this expedition to kill the shark. After all, Hooper knew it was an exceptionally large shark based on his examination of the remains of the first victim. If he was the shark expert he claimed to be, he would have extrapolated the size of the bites and from there determined the length of the shark. You might also remember the scene where vandals have painted a huge shark fin on the Amity billboard. Hooper is quick to point out that it is anatomically correct. In other words, it is a massive great white shark. But here they are in a 40-foot boat, in the deep blue, hunting a 25-foot fish with…enormous jaws. The mathematician might say that the boat to shark ratio is less than optimal.

If you think about it, you really shouldn’t blame Hooper though. People can be notoriously poor planners, if they plan at all. When they do plan, too often they think those plans are solid gold. And if you are anything like me, you know that things rarely play out like they are planned. But we try nonetheless.

It doesn’t take a lot of work to find those in our past who planned for things to go one way, only to have them go another. This week I want to introduce you to another Hooper whose plan did not go as well as he thought it would. This Hooper’s first name is William, and he was a signer of the Declaration of Independence. William was a North Carolinian who has been called the “prophet of independence” because he wrote a letter to a friend in which he stated that the colonies were soon going to establish a new constitution built on the ruins of British rule. During the American Revolution, like many of his compatriots, the British took revenge on him by destroying his two homes. As a result, he became separated from his family and he was forced to flee into the countryside. Traveling through the woods and swamps, he contracted malaria from which he suffered the remaining eight years of his life. He planned on his circumstances improving with the American victory, but instead, they got worse. He was disliked by the Loyalists because of his anti-British sentiments, and disliked by the patriots because he refused to enforce reprisals against the Loyalists after the British were defeated. He went from a prophet of independence to a partner in impecuniosity. Things just didn’t work out like he thought they would. But then things rarely do.

Matt and William succumbed to the saying, “The best laid plans of mice and men can still go wrong”. Robert Burns might have written the basis of that statement in 1785, but it hardly originated with him. Solomon recorded in Proverbs 16:9 that man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps. Matt, William, and Robert may have approached the problem of planning not working out because, well, things don’t always work out. But Solomon had a different idea. He believed that though there existed an element of human planning, God, through his divine purpose, was guiding the whole outcome. That may be hard to let sink in because we want to feel in-control. We take the time to work out the carefully crafted details, and now we want things to go the exact way we planned. And all along God is compassionately saying, yes, make your plans, but know that it is I who directs your steps.

I am thankful for the Matts and Williams of the world. They give me hope that I am not the only one who believes my planning is good and solid (maybe not gold though), only to see how wrong I was. I’ve lived through thousands of days worth of plans, and can honestly say that relatively few ended how I originally envisioned they would. I can also honestly say that I am not disappointed because things didn’t work out like I thought they would, because as we have already seen, things rarely do.

Sticks and Stones

We’ve all heard the adage “sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me”. If only. We know that name calling and giving people ridiculing nicknames can cause harm. You’ve heard them, maybe even been called them, or worse, used them against others. “Four eyes,” “brace face,” “nerd,” “shorty”…the list goes on. No one is exempt from barbs. Some pretty famous people were given nicknames. Patton was “Old Blood and Guts”. Winfield Scott was “Old Fuss and Feathers”. Grover Cleveland was “Uncle Jumbo”. William Henry Harrison, who served the shortest term as President, was “Old Granny”. Still others didn’t rise to the level of official nicknames, but had physical descriptives tied to their fame. Napoleon was short. Lincoln was tall and gangly.

The commonality in all of these names is that they are based, correctly or incorrectly, on something that is distinct to that person, something they said, or something about their appearance. Cleveland earned the nickname because of his size. Scott garnered his because he was overly concerned with how he looked. And well, I think you probably get the picture about Napoleon (surprise ahead…keep reading) and Lincoln.

Attaching nicknames to people is almost always bad. It rarely leads to anything positive. Flip open your Bible to 2 Kings 2:23-24 to see the extreme tragic results of name calling. But, what if? What if there were good nicknames (allow me some leeway in defining what a nickname is)? What if, instead of four eyes, you were called a child of God? What if, instead of belonging to the nerd group, you were a card-carrying member of a royal priesthood? What if you were not a loser, but a victor? What if you were not shameful in the eyes of others, but sinless in the eyes of God? Well, start celebrating, because it is true. If you are a Jesus follower, then you have some remarkable nicknames…child of God and royal priesthood are just the beginning. There is also “His workmanship,” “new creation,” “His Bride,” “Chosen Ones,” “Holy,”and “Beloved.” God looks past the short stature, the tall and gangly, the skin imperfections, all of it, and sees a beautiful creation. This alone should present us with hope as we go into our day.

Napoleon is the target of all kinds of jokes because of how tall he was. Now, here is the surprise as promised…he was average height for the French men of his day. In other words, he does not warrant all of the “short” jabs and jokes he gets today. It is too bad that he is known more for this misrepresentation than for some of the ways he provided inspiration to his army. My favorite quote of any leader (other than Jesus), anywhere, at anytime, belongs to Napoleon…“A leader is a dealer in hope.”

Today, if you are in a leadership role, then you are in a unique position. You have the power to help others see themselves in a positive light. People get enough negativity and name-calling from others. Your job is to inject hope into their circumstances, getting them to see themselves as God sees them – a beautiful and spectacular creation. If you do that, all of those who are determined to swing sticks and sling stones will be silenced.

Anyone Need a HUG?

A new year stares us in the face. Spend any amount of time on social media or watch the nightly news and you can hear the desperation of countless individuals worldwide. They cry out for a new year, because in their minds, it represents a new beginning. While our current problem of this virus isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, it does not stop people from thinking the new year will bring a new start. And in many ways it will. However, most of these ways will be, if we’re completely honest with ourselves, short lived. Don’t get me wrong…I wish nothing but the greatest success for those who commit to fitness, weight loss, better eating habits, eliminating snarky comments on Facebook, and putting down the phone and picking up a book, just to name a few. But I am a realist, and the truth of the matter is, many will commit, and after about a month, revert back to their “old ways”. Trust me, you’ll get no judgment from me, because I have boarded this train countless January Firsts, and leapt off thirty days later (if I even made it that far).

Now that I got all of that out of my system, let me get to the point. Just because you might have failed at obtaining some goal in the past, does not mean you should not try again this year. Life is about starting over. If you’re like me, you appreciate those moments where you can toss aside past mistakes and move forward. I’m reminded again of when I was a kid growing up in my neighborhood. Playing pickup baseball or football, if someone made a mistake, they would call for a do-over. They wanted another chance to hit that game-winning homerun, or scoring the go-ahead touchdown. The do-over was a magical thing. It put the failed attempt in the past. It meant you could try again for greatness. Such was the case of Hiram.

For thirty-nine years, life kicked Hiram to the ground time after time. He was a mediocre student…nothing exceptional for ranking twenty-first out of a class of thirty-nine. He served in the army for several years following graduation, most of them in obscure assignments. It was during those years though, in side ventures, where he suffered numerous business losses. He invested in a store in San Francisco, but was tricked by the store owner, and lost his $1,500 investment. He then bought cattle and hogs, but after prices fell dramatically, he lost his money. He financed an ice shipment to San Francisco because, well, ice was apparently a big thing to invest in. You guessed it, he lost his money…because the ship was delayed and the ice melted. He bought chickens, but the chickens died in shipment. He joined a couple of other guys in growing and investing in potatoes and onions, along with cutting timber for sale, but once again, luck was not on his side. The Columbia River flooded and wiped out their investments. He tried opening a social club, but the investment agent took his money and skipped town. After all this, one might expect him to turn to the bottle. And that is just what he did. It got bad enough that his superior gave him an ultimatum…either resign from the army, or face a court-martial. He chose to leave.

The next few years were no better. He struck out at farming, bill collecting, loan negotiating, and real estate. He had to ask his father for money and a job. If you asked him, he would have probably said he was at rock bottom. But then came April 12, 1861. Fort Sumter was attacked. President Lincoln put out a call for men, and Hiram responded, and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, yes, it was Ulysses S. Grant (whose first name was actually Hiram…his full given name was Hiram Ulysses Grant [H.U.G.]). It would not take long for Grant to make a name for himself in battle. He led the Union Army into successes at Fort Henry, Fort Donelson, Shiloh, Vicksburg, and Petersburg, to name a few. He was so much better than any of the other commanders, so Lincoln moved him to the East and made him the commander of all Union armies, with a rank of lieutenant general, the highest rank ever held by anyone to that point. Not too shabby for a man who, countless times failed in his ventures. And that should give us hope. If he could rise up following failure after failure, then we can to. Grant was an expert at do-overs.

So, no matter where you are in life, tomorrow represents a chance for a do-over. You can leave the past behind. You can start out on a new adventure. In case you ever wondered, God is creator of the do-over. Remember Peter denying Jesus? He got a do-over. Does the story of the prodigal son come to mind? Do-over. The leper? Ummm, do-over. The man with a withered hand? Yep, do-over. That crippled man near the pool of Bethesda? The blind? The deaf? The demon-possessed? Do-over, do-over, do-over, and, do-over. And if you ever doubted, be encouraged the same One who granted these do-overs, can reach down and pick you up, and grant (pun intended) you a…you guessed it…a do-over.

So Good There was a Snack Cake Named For Her

The scene was Washington City. The date, August 24, 1814. It was a time of chaos. With the news that the British Army had defeated the Americans at Bladensburg, James Madison and his Cabinet officials fled the capital, fearing the worst. Setting up temporary residence in Brookeville, Maryland, Madison sent a message to his wife, informing her that if she needed to evacuate the city, to save as many official documents as she could fit into her carriage. In spite of this message from her husband, Dolley was determined to stay and protect the house. Hearing cannon fire, she took to the roof of the house to see if she could ascertain what was happening in the surrounding countryside. Even though she had a spyglass, Dolley was unable to see the battling armies. It was probably a good thing, because the Americans were getting whooped.

Later in the evening, a friend of the family arrived and told her she needed to leave. Reluctantly, Dolley complied. She had already put several items into her carriage, including draperies, china, and the silver service, but as she was leaving, Dolley caught a glimpse of the Gilbert Stuart portrait of George Washington hanging in the state dining room. She ordered the staff, most of whom were slaves, to take it down, fearing that it would fall into the hands of the British only to be destroyed. However, the painting was screwed into the wall. With time running out, Dolley told them to break the frame and load the painting onto a separate carriage to be taken out of the city and hidden. (She was also reportedly able to save a copy of the Declaration of Independence.) With her carriages loaded to capacity, she made her escape.

A few hours later the British arrived in the city. They promptly headed to the Presidential residence and made themselves at home. They drank much of the wine they found and grabbed as many souvenirs as they could carry. Then, Admiral Cockburn, one of the British commanders, ordered the soldiers to set fire to the residence. Into the next day, the British continued their destructive path, setting many other government buildings ablaze. If not for a thunderstorm that night, much of Washington would have burned to the ground. But as it was, most of the fires were contained by the rainfall.

In the middle of the crisis, there was no sight of the President, his Cabinet, the American Army. No one. At least no one of military significance. But there was a fierce lady and a few courageous slaves. They may not have saved anything we would consider of major significance (after all, there were other copies of the Declaration of Independence, paintings can always be redone, draperies and china can by purchased again), but while many residents had fled the city, freaked out by the invading enemy army, these few kept their heads, organized an exit strategy, and escaped with what they deemed valuable.

There are Dolleys all around us. And if we’re not careful, we’ll miss seeing their significance. When being impressed with the “star”, we miss the one who chooses to remain out of the limelight. While we might remember James Madison as the father of the United States Constitution, we cannot forget the amazing woman, who, on the night in which the building that would soon be known as the White House faced destruction, took action and saved a little bit of history.

After James died, Dolley remained extremely popular in the capital city, having hundreds of friends who would come to her aid on more than one occasion. They loved her, and history has immortalized her for that fateful night during the British invasion. So in case you were wondering what it takes to get a snack cake named after you…now you have the answer. You just have to keep calm and save George.

Holy Leadership, Batman

My all-time favorite TV show is the Batman series from the mid-1960s. You know, the one starring Adam West and Burt Ward. I can watch that show anytime, even if it is an episode I’ve seen dozens of times…and for the record, I’ve seen every one of them dozens of times. I am not sure why I like the show so much, for it is quite ridiculous. I mean, how can you not tell by the voice that Bruce Wayne and Batman are the same person? And by putting on a black eye mask, Dick Grayson suddenly looks nothing like Robin? Then there is Batman’s utility belt – it has everything a crime fighter could ever want or need. Need to scale a 20-story building. No problem, the Bat utility belt has rope and a grappling hook. Need to get that pesky shark off your leg? No worries, grab the can of shark repellant from the trusty Bat utility belt. Got a headache? There’s a Bat Pill for that. Need to protect yourself from being hypnotized by a siren? There’s a Bat Pill for that. Need to counteract a deadly concoction that was slipped into your drink seemingly without your knowledge? There’s a Bat Pill for that. There’s a Bat Pill for literally everything under the sun. And they are all inside the Bat utility belt.

Then there are the villains. The Joker, Riddler, Penguin, Catwoman, Egghead, Mr. Freeze, and many, many more. They are self-described brilliant minds. Yet none of them could figure out how to permanently get rid of the dynamic duo. The best part of each episode occurred when the “guest villain” of that week, captured Batman and Robin, and then put them into an absurd “death trap”. And instead of waiting around for a few minutes to see the two breathe their last, they leave in a hurry so that they can carry out their dastardly crime. I remember one particular episode where Batman and Robin were tied to racks with a giant magnifying glass mounted over each of them. Batman remembered that a solar eclipse was going to occur in just moments, so he tells Robin to angle the lens 14 degrees so that the sun will burn the wrist ties. It had to be precisely 14 degrees. One degree off and it would have been lights out for the crime fighters. I’m chuckling as I write this because of how silly it sounds.

But I loved it because, in spite of all the corniness, Batman represented all that was good in man. He would never break any law, even chastising Robin at times when the Boy Wonder suggested doing otherwise. (There is one episode where Batman parks the Batmobile in front of a parking meter. Batman pulls a coin out of…you guessed it, the Bat utility belt…and puts it in the meter. Robin tells Batman that no policeman is going to ticket the Batmobile, but Batman responsibly instructs Robin that it is the right thing to do, and that parking meter money is used to pay for and maintain the roads.)

Batman always seemed to want to see the best in everyone, including the villains he captured and recaptured (and recaptured) week after week. Perhaps that is why I am so drawn to this version of Batman, and perhaps you are too. You see, we should want to see the best in people. We should want to see people succeed and come out on top. If you are interested in becoming a better leader, at work, and at home, then this has to become a priority. If you want to be in the business of helping others, you have to start by seeing the best in others. The challenging thing is this…those you are trying to help will sometimes put you in a bad position. They probably won’t tie you to a rack and try to fry you with an oversized magnifying glass until you’re crispy like bacon, but they might abuse your kindness, your patience, and even your time. It doesn’t matter. Your job is to keep coming back, looking through the flaws of the individual, and seeing their best.

Batman, of course, is fiction. But there is one person who ALWAYS sees the best in us. He was, is, and will forever be, the greatest leader ever. Jesus.

He knows your voice no matter what persona you might try to hide behind. When you try to put on a black eye mask, He still recognizes you. If you have a 20-story problem that you need to scale…He is there with you. Need relief from mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual pain? He’s got you, not with a pill, but with a reminder found in His Word that He is your help. Caught in a trap where there seems to be no escape. Trust me there is. His name, when called on, will provide the way out. And when you try to bend the rules a little, Jesus is right there to remind you that integrity is the best option.

Providence on Purpose

In July of 1755, a young George Washington rode on horseback with General Edward Braddock, a British officer, and about 1,300 troops as they set out to push the French army out of the Ohio Country. General Braddock set as his target, Fort Duquesne. Nearing the fort, the British army were attacked by a combined force of French soldiers and several Indian tribes. Unaccustomed to guerrilla-style fighting within tree lines, the British were beat back. To make matters worse, British soldiers began firing into their own lines, thinking they were instead shooting at the French. This led to mass chaos and immediate retreat by the British. To help clear the battlefield confusion, Braddock rode forward, but was struck down with a mortal wound. His men grabbed his body as they continued the retreat.

Washington now realized he had to step up and provide leadership in the absence of the dying Braddock. He rallied the British to establish a rear guard that allowed some soldiers to retreat safely. While doing so, Washington had two horses shot from underneath him. But each time, he climbed onto a horse belonging to another fallen warrior. If not for Washington’s actions, more British would have been captured and killed.

Once safely down the road, Washington took stock of what happened. Recalling the event in a letter to his brother, Washington wrote, “But by the all-powerful dispensations of Providence, I have been protected beyond all human probability or expectation; for I had four bullets through my coat, and two horses shot under me, yet escaped unhurt, although death was leveling my companions on every side of me.” Why hadn’t Washington been hit when so many of those around him lay on the ground dead and dying? The Reverend Samuel Davies might have understood the reasoning better than anyone. Upon hearing what occurred, he wrote, “As a remarkable instance of this [his bravery], I may point out to the public that heroic youth, Colonel Washington, whom I cannot but hope Providence has hitherto preserved in so signal a manner for some important service to his country.”

Providence. Preserved. Service. Three thought-provoking words.

Both the colonel and the good reverend understood that divine Providence had intervened. Now, there is no shortage of critics who want to convince us that George Washington did not believe in God. They cite all kinds of facts to include he rarely took communion, or that he rarely attended church. But the fact of the matter is Washington spoke and wrote about God quite liberally, even commenting that he himself might turn preacher when his current duty as the commander of the army ceased. Washington believed that an all-powerful God had protected him.

Davies too, believed, quite correctly, that God had preserved Washington’s life in that moment, where bullets were whizzing around and through his jacket, for some greater purpose. It wasn’t poor marksmanship by the French and Indians. It was God’s hand preserving Washington’s life. And why had God’s hand preserved Washington? Because the colonel was needed for a greater service, as Davies wrote. The rag-tag group of colonies needed a resolute commander for its army. After the war, these same colonies needed a voice of reason in establishing a Constitution. And the fledgling United States needed a man of remarkable experience as its first president.

So, was it the fickle fingers of fate, or the guidance of God’s Providence? George understood what Isaiah the prophet had written some 2,500 years earlier, “Fear not, for I am with you…I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Density of Purpose

George is on a mission. He has to talk to the girl of his dreams, because Darth Vader from the planet Vulcan told him so. It is either do that or Vader will melt his brain. So George walks into the diner and over to the booth where his love interest sits, and emphatically states, “I’m your density…I mean, I’m your destiny.” George McFly has begun his journey of destiny that will end with him kissing Lorraine near the end of the movie Back to the Future.

We talk about destiny quite a bit, even if at times it is done in jest. We’ve all heard, “It was destined to be this way,” or perhaps, “My team was destined to win.” To think seriously like this though, is to act as if we go through life at the mercy of luck. But is that true? Do we live dependent on chance, luck, fate? I believe the moment we surrender to fate is the moment we stop pursuing purpose. And when we stop pursuing purpose, all kinds of bad things happen. More about that in a moment.

Douglas MacArthur promised, “I shall return.” President Kennedy challenged, “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.” Martin Luther King Jr said, “If it falls your lot to be a street sweeper, go out and sweep streets like Michelangelo painted pictures. Sweep streets like Handel and Beethoven composed music. Sweep streets like Shakespeare wrote poetry. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will have to pause and say, here lived a great street sweeper who swept his job well.” These men understood that to truly lead, you must have purpose.

MacArthur had to flee the Philippines, but he vowed to come back. He made it his number one purpose. Kennedy reminded his listeners that purpose is not fulfilled through the benefit of receiving, but rather through how much the individual gives back. King perhaps said it best…if you end up being a janitor, then become the best janitor you can possibly be.

Every great leader understands that leadership and development is not about themselves, it is about others. They also understand that leadership involves purpose and intentionality, not about leaving the outcome to chance or fate, or in this case, destiny. Leaders need to believe that how they interact and communicate with others is not left to chance. Imagine if MacArthur wagered his return on chance. He would have failed. So do leaders when they are not intentional and purposeful. When they fail at that, they can find ourselves on a lonely journey, leading no one. When that happens, many things come into question…their integrity, their reason, among others. But those who lead with purpose attract others, to the point where they are able to successfully pass the baton to the next generation.

George and Lorraine made a strange pair in the past, but George had one thing right. They were meant to be together. They would marry and have a good life “in the future”. So George really was Lorraine’s density…I mean, her destiny.

Not Just Another Flesh Wound

One of my favorite individuals in all of history is Theodore Roosevelt. He’s a favorite for so many reasons. As a child, he suffered from a sickly body, including chronic asthma. When the family vacationed abroad, young Teddy often had to be taken by his father to an environment away from the big cities, breathing in the cleaner, country air. To overcome his weakened frame, he began to exercise, including taking up boxing. He was never good, but it did not matter. He used various forms of exercise to build up his stamina, and through that, he became healthier. In other words, he didn’t let limitations hold him back. This was on full display in October 1912. While preparing to give a political speech, he was shot. Anyone else would rush to the hospital, but not Roosevelt. He told the crowd that he had just been shot, but intended to speak anyway, which he did…for 90 minutes! Talk about overcoming obstacles…the man had a bullet lodged inside him, and he went ahead and gave the speech. This was one time being a long-winded speaker saved a life. (The shot entered his coat and tore through the 50-page speech folded inside the pocket, slowing the bullet down before it could reach the heart.) I also admire the man because he was a progressive thinker. Even though he was a Republican politician, he worked with all people in an attempt to make the nation better. I like too that he was visionary. He recognized early on that the country’s most beautiful scenery had to be protected from land developers.

Now, was he flawed? Yes. Did have shortcomings? Absolutely. I would have to say that my least admired moment of his life is how he reacted to, hands down, the worst day of his life. On February 12, 1884, Roosevelt’s wife, Alice gave birth to their daughter, Alice Lee. Two days later, Roosevelt’s life was flipped upside down when both his mother and wife died just hours apart. It would be enough to bring anyone to their knees, including Theodore. So, after less than four months, he left his daughter in the hands of his sister, “Bamie,” and traveled to the Dakota Territories, where he spent seven of the next twelve months ranching and hunting. I simply cannot imagine handing my newborn child off to someone and leaving for months, but Roosevelt felt like he had to get away, to escape the sadness. In fact, the loss of his wife was so painful for Roosevelt that he would not allow his first wife’s name to ever be spoken in his presence again. His daughter Alice, named after her mother, would be known as “Baby Lee,” and in adulthood, as “Mrs. L.”

As humans we react to tragedy differently, and perhaps I am being somewhat judgmental of Roosevelt. He felt that it was the best for him and little Alice Lee to leave and get away. But the real question today is, how do we, as leaders in our respective bubbles, respond to troubles or tragedies. When bad things happen, what do we do? Do we stand our ground? Do we retreat? Do we stick our heads in the sand and ignore everything? Do we pretend that everything is great, when it really is not? It is often these moments that define us. We should remember what the Psalmist wrote: “I lift up my eyes to the mountains, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord.”

Fortunately for Roosevelt, he was a man of great courage, who stood up against corruption as a New York Assemblyman and Police Commissioner; who fought up San Juan Hill in Cuba; who envisioned protecting some of the nation’s most exquisite landscapes by creating the national park system. And because of these moments, we might forget that the man who walked around the last six years of his life with a 32-caliber bullet inside him, once ran away.

Hills

Study the history of warfare very long and you’ll find a consequential battle that two armies clashed over to gain the high ground. As long as men have fought, the high ground was always desired. From there the battlefield commander can see enemy strengths, movements, and placements of strategic importance.

At Bunker Hill (though most of the fighting took place on a smaller rise named Breed’s Hill), the Colonials battled the British, showing the much better organized, trained, and equipped Red Coats, that scrappy militia men were not to be taken lightly. It would serve to further ignite the passion of freedom-seeking revolutionaries. On the third day of fighting at Gettysburg, the Union Army repelled multiple waves of attacking Confederates along Cemetery Ridge, causing the bruised southern army to retreat back to Virginia, and turning the tide of the entire war. It would prove to be the bloodiest battle Americans ever fought. On Hill 593 at Monte Cassino, the German army successfully beat back several attacks by the Allied Powers. Day after day, American soldiers battled to get that expensive piece of real estate. Normandy, Hamburger Hill, Takur Ghar, and countless others are highlighted in our history books as significant moments of battle, focused on gaining the upper hand, and the “upper land”. Simply put, the hill is important, and in some aspects, crucial.

Capitol Hill, where battlefield gunfire and cannons are replaced by verbal attacks and character assassinations. Sadly, today’s culture hears more about the shenanigans that occur here every day, than the heroic events on hills of times past. And if the past is a picture of things to come, there will never be a victor; there will never be a loser; for it is a perpetual battle. We need to claim a victory…and not a Republican one, nor a Democrat one. We need a victory that rises above all this. Our hope is found in what can only be described as, hands down, the greatest hill battle ever fought…Golgotha.

If there was ever a one-sided battle, this was it. One man against the legions, the hordes, the masses of darkness. Evil on all sides. Crushing despair. One man mocked, beaten, whipped, punctured, pierced, bloodied, and finally, nailed to a cross. One man down for the count. Or so it was thought. You see, it WAS a one-sided battle. One the enemy never saw coming. Thinking they had won, the legions began to celebrate. After all the tomb had a resident. But then, the remarkable…no, the miraculous, occurred. The heart began to beat. The lungs filled with air. Synapses started firing. Tissue came to life. And then…the supposedly defeated one, opened his eyes. The face of love returned. The Father and Son were reunited. And the tomb had a sudden vacancy. Jesus took the hill. He conquered the mountain. And the Son of God now occupied the high ground.