I recall an observation I often made during my years practicing obstetrics. Occasionally woman entering the hard stage of labor, in their distress at the intensity and relentlessness of the pain, would cry out something to the effect, “I can’t do this! Make it stop!” At times, they would beg me to “Take the baby now!” because they could bear it no longer. My human heart was always compelled by their anguish, always moved by the extremity of their pleas.
When a mother in labor cries out, “I can’t do this!” I think of two things that I know are true. The first, by the end of the night, one way or another, this baby will be born. This labor will move forward, unabated, heedless of the mother’s pleas for respite. My job, of course, is to help this woman find a way to navigate through her distress, to find the healthy, positive outcome that is now eluding her. This involves the second thing I know to be true.
This woman believes that she is at the end of herself. She feels spent, yet knows that the full measure of her test still lies ahead of her. She is terrified at what comes next. What happens when you are used up, and you must endure more, what happens then? It is a frightful fearsome place to be. She knows, truly, that I cannot just “make it stop.” She knows, I cannot just “take the baby now,” but this panic that grips her, is not about something that makes sense, it is about being lost.
But I know something that she does not. I know that she is not at the end of herself, far from it. She has not scratched the surface of the power and strength that lies still within her. She has not yet reached down into herself, drawn from the well of her soul strength. I have seen people do this in my medical practice many times, valiant people, who, when the need calls for it, draw amazing things from within themselves that they never knew they had.
I have seen it enough to be convinced that nearly everyone has such untapped resources within them. When people reach down and draw such an awesome thing out, it is often recognized and described as courage, and truly, it is. But what kind of courage? Just a few hours before, the woman in labor was pleading for reprieve. Where did her courage come from? Where did she find it? If this is something we all possess within us, where does one find such a thing?
Mark Twain said, “Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear—not absence of fear. Except a creature be part coward it is not a compliment to say it is brave.” So it is with the women in labor who cries out in her anguish, “I can’t do this!” then goes on to fiercely battle the very thing she so fears, until in the end, she delivers a beautiful healthy baby. She truly is the brave coward who resists fear, who masters fear.
Was the woman in labor courageous? I would say emphatically, yes! However, in that desperate moment, when she felt that she had truly reached the end of herself, there was no courage evident. If it were possible, she would have quit then. It was the fact of her being compelled to endure the unendurable that led her to discover her true ability. Carl Sandburg said, “Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes.” Courageous she was, but courage arose from within her because of what she did. She did not do what she did because of her courage.
I have seen this happen to people caught in impossible situations many times. It is the necessity of the impossible situations that draws out more from people than they think they have in them, including the courage they think they need for the task. It is tricky semantically, but it is not a subtle distinction. It is the action that generates the courage, not the courage that generates the action.
Orphans too, I think, find themselves in an impossible situation. With both of their parents gone, orphaned children are without the essential, irreplaceable ingredient God intended for their healthy growth and development. No one is more truly alone, lost or adrift in the World than an orphaned child. Sometimes, orphans are placed in Institutions, raised without any parents, without any families, as our two new daughters were. Rather than being nurturing or warm places, these Institutions are frequently hostile, cold and indifferent places. Life for orphans too often becomes about survival rather than about love, safety and nurture.
Are these little ones brave? Yes! I say, yes! Do they have a choice but to be brave? Our orphans are much the same as the mothers in labor, in an impossible situation, to be sure. They could scream out in their pain in the same way, “Make it stop! Make it stop!” Likewise, “Make my parents not be dead, make me have my family back, make me be loved again!” But, like with the mothers in labor, none of deepest passion of their desire or want changes a thing. They are forced to deal with the fact that they are orphaned, and as a result, they have been harmed and they continue to be harmed. The courage they draw on to face their trial comes from within, from surviving. They have no other choice. Lucius Annaeus Seneca said, “Sometimes even to live is an act of courage.”
I never think about courage without thinking about Stephen, a noteworthy member of the first church in Jerusalem. I am jarred by what Stephen did back then. It shakes me to my core. Do you remember the story? Stephen was arrested on false charges and was brought before the Sanhedrin for a public hearing. They asked Stephen to give an answer to the charges, to give a response if the charges brought against him were true.
These Sanhedrin guys were dangerous. Out in the open, in public like this, the whole thing was their show. These guys were arrogant and powerful. This was not the place to mess around, to take a stand or to make a point. If anything was going to go down here, it was going to go down their way. Stephen, if he had been smart, would have played along, taken his lumps and then lived to fight another day. Anyone would have done that. Anyone of us would have done that. Why didn’t Stephen? This has always vexed me. Stephen launched into a long monologue outlining the history of Israel. Then when he finished his lecture, he delivered a daring accusation of his own. He accused his accusers of betraying and murdering the “Righteous One,” Jesus Christ. Why did he do that? Were did that come from?!
The charges they accused Stephen of were trumped up, false, not true. On the other hand, the charges Stephen leveled at the Sanhedrin guys were dead-on true. These guys really had betrayed and murdered Jesus Christ. But what did Stephen think he was doing? All he needed to do was just play it safe, go along, pay the fine so to speak, get his hands slapped and he would have been on his way. What was this deal, calling them out like this? Was he crazy? Did he have a death wish?
I don’t know, but I think what he did demonstrates one of the most remarkable examples of Christian moral courage you can find anywhere, what I would consider a reckless disregard for danger while standing absolutely firmly in the right, and I admire it tremendously. A Christian can offer that kind of action to God and then leave the results up to God, for whatever purposes He wants. In Stephens case, his execution at the hands of the angry Sanhedrin was ultimately responsible for the spread of the gospel throughout the then known world and the rest is history, as they say.
Was Stephen courageous? Sure he was. Maybe in a reckless, crazy sort of way, but certainly heroically courageous. However, consider this, did Stephen do what he did because he was a courageous man, or did his courage derive from doing what he did? In other words, did it take a courageous man to do what Stephen did, or did it just take a man in Stephens place to DO what Stephen did? Many might think Stephan was a special guy, a courageous guy. I say, maybe not, maybe he was just a regular guy, a regular guy who just DID a brave thing when he had a chance.
The difference between Stephen’s courage and the courage of the woman in labor and the courage of our orphans is that Stephan stood there in a moment of choice. The woman in labor and the orphans have no choice. Stephen chose to take the action he did. This is the single thing about Stephen that captures my imagination most. When he finished his long monolog about the history of Israel, there was a moment of decision. A brief, private moment in his mind, known between only himself and God, a moment when he made a decision, whether to play it safe, or to go on and say what he did. What happens in a Christian’s mind in that moment of decision? In that moment, when that choice is made to choose something that is safe or to choose something that recklessly disregards danger.
I believe every Christian makes these kinds of choices every day, all of the time, choices between what is safe and what is daring and reckless.
But we don’t see Christians running around doing a lot of reckless and daring things, do we? Am I suggesting that Christians should start running around and doing a lot of reckless and dangerous things? That would be irresponsible of me if I was, wouldn’t it?
Well, I’m going to step in it and suggest two things that, in my humble opinion, inhibit today’s church, inhibit the MEN in today’s church, and that inhibit ME, from receiving a full measure of the blessing I think God wants to give us and from achieving the results I think God wants to see.
First, I don’t think Christians dream big enough. Theodore Roosevelt said, “Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the grey twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.” The Christian church today, at least the ones I’ve attended in my life, and the ones I’ve heard about in my life, and especially the ordinary men in those churches, myself included, live this way, for the most part, live “lives of quiet desperation,” “in the grey twilight.” Must it be this way, I ask. Henry David Thoreau said, “It is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things.”
The church has its Billy Grahams, David Wilkersons and Chuck Swindols; we can’t all be like that, right? There have to be the regular people too, right? I used to think that too, but I’m starting to not buy it anymore. Think about this, the SDA in Ukraine released data in October. They say they have 21,000 orphans in their files eligible for International adoption, 11,000 of the kids are between 12 and 17 years of age. This is just Ukraine, I wonder, what are the numbers in the United States, and for the World? This I know, there are not enough Billy Grahams and Chuck Swindols on hand to do what God has in mind for the World’s orphans. But there are plenty of ordinary Christians, more than enough to make all the difference needed for the tens of thousands of orphans in the World. What does it take from ordinary Christians to accomplish this? I say we need a lot more Christians out there recklessly disregarding danger.
What do I mean exactly by recklessly disregarding danger? G. K. Chesterton said, “Courage is almost a contradiction in terms: it means a strong desire to live taking the form of readiness to die.” If a hopelessly outnumbered band of solders finds themselves surrounded by their enemy, they have two choices. One, attack the enemy, suicidally throwing themselves directly at the encroaching enemy masses in an all out attack. In other words, at least go out in a blaze of glory. Or two, form ranks into a tight defensive arrangement designed to keep the enemy hordes at bay and wait them out. Circle the wagons, so to speak.
The second option seems the most prudent course of action. It would be the safest choice. It follows natural instinct, to protect ones life. However, one by one, each soldier in the defensive circle will be patiently picked off by the enemy, no matter how well devised the defense may be, until eventually, every single one of the embattled soldiers will be completely annihilated. The second defensive option, while being the natural choice, results invariably in certain failure, assuming no rescue is forthcoming. And in my example, there is no rescue.
Chesterton says that, “The paradox of courage is that a man must be a little careless of his life in order to keep it.” If the small band of soldiers decides to attack, against all the odds, throwing caution to the wind, with the knowledge that their lives are forfeit anyway, the irony is that such an act actually saves them. It is the fierceness of the attack, the wonton abandon, the full measure of hold-nothing-back reckless disregard for danger that is the very thing that makes a victory possible. The phalanx charging out explosively from the center has a chance of victory due the ferocity and viciousness of its attack, it can break through the enemy encircling them to escape and survive. This G. K. Chesterton would call courage.
Does this band of soldiers have the choice in their actions, in the way Stephen did, to call upon that resource from deep within them, that thing we all have deep within all of us, that we would name as courage? Was it a moment of choice, a moment like Stephen’s? Or are the band of soldiers more like our orphans or the woman in labor, who have no choice, who are trapped in their fate? Those who draw on their courage out of necessity? No, no, the soldiers are the masters of their fate, it is their choice to make, is it not? Hold fast, in an apparently safe defense, slowly to die in an ignoble, anonymous desperate “grey twilight.” Or the other choice, the reckless and seemingly careless choice, to rise up and “dare mighty things to win glorious triumphs.”
So, I do not think Christians dream big enough. The second thing I’m throwing out that I think inhibits Christians revolves around the whole concept of being “called.” Let me start out with my disclaimer. I’m all for being “called.” Paul said he was “called to be an Apostle.” That’s great, but here’s my problem, I have seen more Christians AVOID doing God’s work because they tell me they have NOT been called to this or that than I have seen people DOING things because they tell me they HAVE been called. As far as I know, “calling” is not a prerequisite for doing ANYTHING. I’m not interested into getting into doctrinal discussions and arguments if that is where this topic might lead, to my mind that would be more of the same, avoiding DOING things.
Here’s what I think is going on. Most Christian’s are just plain outright scared. To my mind, it’s really usually just about fear. That’s fine, but when did it become easy to hide behind the excuse of not being “called” to avoid appearing afraid? Was it so people did not have to lose the appearance of piety that being afraid might threaten? There is an English Proverb that says, “Some have been thought brave because they were afraid to run away.” Maybe some have been thought pious when they were just cowards, afraid to engage.
Here is what I notice happens when someone invokes the “called” trump in a Christian conversation. The conversation ends. When someone says, “I don’t feel led,” or “I don’t feel called,” it puts an immediate stopper on the discussion. It is as if they are saying, “God is telling me,” and you can’t argue with God. There’s a double bonus in it for them too. Not only does it get you off their back, it makes them look close to God. Better yet, you can’t touch them. If you try to call them on the deception, it just turns back around on you and makes you look bad. A message from God is unassailable.
I’m telling you, this dishonesty in the Christian church is stifling God’s work and allowing fear to dominate the programs and strategic plans of most churches. The result is passive men and dying churches. Like G. K. Chesterton’s small band of soldiers, we are huddled defensively, surrounded by enemies and doomed to die.
What do we need? I think we need courage. I think we need courage of the G. K. Chesterton kind. Where do we find it? Where do we find courageous men, the men who will be a little careless of their life in order to keep it, the men who will save us? Where are the courageous when we need them? I say, we will never find them. I say, there are no courageous people. There is only you and me, regular, ordinary people. There is no one else. If we wait for courage, we will be lost. What we need, simply, is only action, and that we can do. It is not hard. Taking action is something any of us and all of us can do. Courage, if we need it, when we need it, comes out of us, from within us, when we act.
“One day, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let’s go over to the other side of the lake.” So they got into the boat and set out. As they sailed, he fell asleep. A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger. The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!” He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. “Why were you afraid?” he asked his disciples.” In fear and amazement they asked one another, “Who is this?”
Yes, who indeed? That is truly the right question to ask. When Stephen asked it, his answer involved reckless disregard for danger. James A. Garfield said, “If there is one thing upon this earth that mankind love and admire better than another, it is a brave man, — it is the man who dares to look the devil in the face and tell him he is a devil.” God wants such men, God uses such men.
How then to overcome living out our lives in small dreams? How then to avoid living out our lives in a series of meaningless “callings” that allow us to avoid truly dangerous pursuits. How then can we live lives resistant to fear, lives of courage, lives of reckless disregard for danger—the fear that would impede the courage that would make us alive.
Paul explained this to Timothy. “God did not give us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love and self-discipline.” Jesus asked the disciples in the boat, “Why were you afraid?” We must remember who it is that we have “in the boat” with us. Do we live different lives when we remember that? Do we make different choices when we remember that? Think about choices, the choices we make. The choice the small band of overwhelmed soldiers makes, the choice Stephen makes, everything is about our choices, really. Choices to take action, to do something. Will they be the safe choices or will we dare to be reckless, to abandon our fears?
Courage. We know intuitively that there is something powerful untapped deep within us. We see what people can do when they find themselves facing impossible situations. The woman in labor who thinks she is at the end of herself, the small band of soldiers completely and hopelessly surrounded. Stephen making a choice. A courageous decision made with reckless disregard for the danger it posed to himself. I admire Stephen. And why? Was he special?
People tell me in the aftermath of my adoption trip to Ukraine that, “I could never do what you have done.” Really? Am I so special? If I am, then God help all of those tens of thousands of orphans out there that need families, because I can’t adopt them all. Forgive my sarcasm, but you get my point. I certainly know that there is nothing special about me. And I don’t think there was anything special about Stephan either. I’ve thought a lot about this. Stephan had a crucial moment of decision. And I think he was just a regular guy, just like you and me. He could have chosen the sane and safe, or as he did, the reckless and daring. We all have the same options, the same choices, all of the time. God used Stephan, God can use us, he does use us. What will we DO, then, when we make our choices? Everything is about what we DO. It’s ACTION. All we have to do, is DO.
Is there anyone thinking about what they might DO when I speak about doing? Consider this, thousands upon thousands of orphans are plucking what courage they can muster to face life alone and they have no choice. Whatever courage we may require to face the things WE choose to DO, is accessible to us from that untapped place deep within us, we do not need to be courageous people first. I have been told by many, “I could never do what you have done.” I say to any and to all, “Yes, you can. All of you can do what I have done.”
Now everyone, hear what it is I am saying. Consider yourselves called. Go and adopt one or more of God’s precious orphans. And don’t take too long doing it. Every day orphans are having birthdays that age them out, forever losing them the opportunity to have a home in a Christian family.
For more of Dr. David's incredible insight, go to:
http://doctordavid.wordpress.com/author/dr4david/
