Courage to Take a Stand
When Honorius was emperor of Rome, about the year AD 400, the great Coliseum of Rome was often filled to overflowing with spectators. These had come from far and near to view the state games. Part of the sport consisted in watching as human beings battled with wild beasts or against one another until one or the other was killed. The assembled multitude made Roman holiday of such sport and found its highest delight in the death of a human being. It was on such a day when the vast crowd was watching the contest that a Syrian monk by the name of Telemachus stood up in the vast arena. Telemachus was torn by the utter disregard for the value of human life and so he leaped into the arena in the midst of the gladiatorial show and cried out, “This thing is not right! This thing must stop!” Because he was interfering with their pleasure, the authorities gave the command for Telemachus to be run through with a sword, which was done. Thus he died, but dying he kindled a flame in the hearts and consciences of thinking persons. History records that because of this within a few months the gladiatorial combats began to decline and very shortly they passed from history. Why? Because one man dared to speak out for what he felt was right.
Real Bravery
If there is one thing upon earth that mankind loves and admires better than another, it is a brave man—a man who dares look the devil in the face and tell him he is the devil. –James Garfield
Various Motivations for Courage
My cousin described an incident that happened to her son, Buck, in New York. A couple of weeks ago he was walking from the bus depot to his dad’s apartment in upper Manhattan, when he realized he was flanked by two young men.
“Give me your wallet.”
“No.”
“This is a gun. Give me your wallet or I’ll shoot you.”
“No.”
“Hey, man. You don’t understand. We’re robbing you. Give me your wallet.”
“No.”
“Give me your wallet or I’ll knife you.”
“No.”
“Give me your wallet or we’ll beat you up.”
By now the robber was whining.
“No.” Buck had continued walking and after a while he noticed he was no longer accompanied. When he told me about it, I asked him, “Weren’t you scared?”
“Of course. What else would I be?”
“Why didn’t you give them your wallet?”
“My learner’s permit’s in it.” –Dave Mote
Spectators Versus Participants
Just remember: Every baseball team could use a man who plays every position perfectly, never strikes out and never makes an error. The trouble is, there’s no way to make him lay down his hot dog and come down out of the stands.
Wanted: A Hundred Men
Give me a hundred men who fear nothing but sin, and desire nothing but God, and I will shake the world. I care not a straw whether they be clergymen or laymen; and such alone will overthrow the kingdom of Satan and build up the kingdom of God on earth.
In Hot Water
Courage in people is like a tea bag. You never know the strength until they’re in hot water.
Stand Up and Be Counted
Some years ago, Premier Khrushchev was speaking before the Supreme Soviet and was severely critical of the late Premier Stalin. While he was speaking, someone from the audience sent up a note: “What were you doing when Stalin committed all these atrocities?”
Khrushchev shouted, “Who sent up that note?” Not a person stirred.
“I’ll give him one minute to stand up!” The seconds ticked off. Still no one moved.
“All right, I’ll tell you what I was doing. I was doing exactly what the writer of this note was doing—exactly nothing! I was afraid to be counted!”
Motto of the French Foreign Legion
If I falter, push me on. If I stumble, pick me up. If I retreat, shoot me.
Courage in Spirit
The lady was small, old, and frail. She had lost the sight of her eye, and it had to be removed. When it was to be replaced with a false eye, she said to the doctor, “Be sure and choose one with a twinkle in it.”
Having the Nerve
When I was a young writer with a very uncertain income, I went into a quiet park to contemplate a serious problem. For four years, I had been engaged but didn’t dare to marry. There was no way of foreseeing how little I might earn in the next year; moreover, we had long cherished a plan of living and writing in Paris, Rome, Vienna, London—everywhere. But how could we go three thousand miles away from everything that was familiar and secure, without the certainty of some money now and then?
At that moment, I looked up and saw a squirrel jump from one high tree to another. He appeared to be aiming for a limb so far out of reach that the leap looked like suicide. He missed—but landed, safe and unconcerned, on a branch several feet lower. Then he climbed to his goal, and all was well. An old man sitting on the bench said, “Funny, I’ve seen hundreds of ’em jump like that, especially when there are dogs around and they can’t come down to the ground. A lot of ’em miss, but I’ve never seen any hurt in trying.” Then he chuckled. “I guess they’ve got to risk it if they don’t want to spend their lives in one tree.” I thought, A squirrel takes a chance—have I less nerve than a squirrel? We were married in two weeks, scraped up enough money for our passage and sailed across the Atlantic—jumping off into space, not sure what branch we’d land on. I began to write twice as fast and twice as hard as ever before. And to our amazement, we promptly soared into the realm of respectable incomes. Since then, whenever I have to choose between risking a new venture or hanging back, those five little words run through my thoughts: “Once there was a squirrel . . . .” And sometimes I hear the old man on the parck bench saying, “They’ve got to risk it if they don’t want to spend their lives in one tree.”
Risking Much
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing our true self.
To place your ideas, your dreams, before the crowd is to risk loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try at all is to risk failure.
But risk we must, because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The man, the woman, who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
Five Minutes More
A hero is no braver than anyone else; he only is brave five minutes longer.
Even the Brave Have Their Moments
Napoleon often referred to Marshall Ney as the bravest man he had ever known. Yet Ney’s knees trembled so badly one morning before a battle that he had trouble mounting his horse. When he was finally in the saddle, he shouted contemptuously, “Shake away knees, you would shake worse than that if you knew where I am going to take you.”
The Power of a Great Challenge
One of the most effective advertisements ever written appeared in a London newspaper earlier in this century. It read, “Men wanted for hazardous journey. Small wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful.”
The ad was written by Sir Ernest Shackleton, explorer of the South Pole. Regarding response, Shackleton said, “It seemed as though all the men in Great Britain were determined to accompany us.”
Out Where the Fruit Is
The story is told of Will Rogers who came to his friend Eddie Cantor for advice. Will wanted to make some important changes to his act—but was worried about the danger of such changes. He wasn’t sure whether they would work. Eddie Cantor’s response was, “Why not go out on a limb? That’s where the fruit is!”
Designed to Sail
A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are for. –John A. Shedd
Courageous Confrontations
Boris the Russian arrived at the Pearly Gates and was welcomed by St. Peter. Showing him around, the saint said, “You can go anywhere you want with one exception. You cannot go on the pink clouds!”
“Why not?” asked Boris.
“Because,” said St. Peter, “the pink clouds are reserved for people who have done something great.”
“But I have done something great,” said Boris, “I made a speech at the Kremlin against the Russian officials. Then I urged the people to revolt.”
“Just when did this happen?” asked St. Peter.
Boris looked at his watch. “About two minutes ago.”
Victory of Defeat
Only by desertion can we be defeated. With Christ and for Christ victory is certain. We can lose the victory by flight, but not by death. Happy are you if you die in battle, for after death you will be crowned. But woe to you if by forsaking the battle you forfeit at once both the victory and the crown. –Bernard of Clairvaux
Growing in Courage and Might
A man by the name of Mallory led an expedition to try to conquer Mt. Everest in the 1920s. The first expedition failed, as did the second. Then, with a team of the best quality and ability, Mallory made a third assault. But in spite of careful planning and extensive safety precautions, disaster struck. An avalanche hit and Mallory and most of his party were killed. When the few who did survive returned to England, they held a glorious banquet saluting the great people of Mallory’s final expedition. As the leader of the survivors stood to acknowledge the applause, he looked around the hall at the framed pictures of Mallory and his comrades who had died. Then he turned his back to the crowds to face the huge picture of Mt. Everest which stood looming like a silent, unconquerable giant behind the banquet table. With tears streaming down his face, he addressed the mountain on behalf of Mallory and his dead friends. “I speak to you, Mt. Everest, in the name of all brave men living and those yet unborn. Mt. Everest, you defeated us once; you defeated us twice; you defeated us three times. But, Mt. Everest, we shall someday defeat you, because you can’t get any bigger and we can.”
Daring to Act
It is not the critic who counts, not the person who points out where the door of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the person who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes up short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the devotions, and spends himself or herself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and at the worst, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his or her place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat. –Theodore Roosevelt
A Better Kind of Dumb
Don’t be afraid to ask dumb questions; they’re easier to handle than dumb mistakes.
Meeting the Critics
Nothing will ever be accomplished if every objection must be overcome. –Samuel Johnson
Courage in the Storm
Do you remember Tom Dooley, that young doctor who organized hospitals, raised money, and literally poured out his life in the service of the afflicted peoples of Southeast Asia? Here was a man whose deep relationship with God motivated him to abandon a soft career in the United States for a desperately difficult ministry overseas. In the end that relationship enabled him to die victoriously at the age of thirty-four. Here is the letter which on December 1, 1960, he wrote to the president of Notre Dame, his alma mater:
Dear Father Hesburgh: They’ve got me down. Flat on the back, with plaster, sand bags, and hot water bottles. I’ve contrived a way of pumping the bed up a bit so that, with a long reach, I can get to my typewriter. Two things prompt this note to you. The first is that whenever my cancer acts up a bit, and it is certainly “acting up” now, I turn inward. Less do I think of my hospitals around the world, or of 94 doctors, fund-raisers, and the like. More do I think of one Divine Doctor and my personal fund of grace. It has become pretty definite that the cancer has spread to the lumbar vertebra, accounting for all the back problems over the last two months. I have monstrous phantoms; all men do. And inside and outside the wind blows. But when the times comes, like now, then the storm around me does not matter. The winds within me do not matter. Nothing human or earthly can touch me. A peace gathers in my heart. What seems unpossessable, I can possess. Because I can pray. I can communicate. How do people endure anything on earth if they cannot have God?
Stormy Sea
Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm. –Publilius Syrus