Making the Right Move

If one is moved to act rightly, then what moves him is necessarily a virtue; or is it?

There is that old joke of a motley crew of supposedly courageous firefighters from the least likely volunteer department. They responded to a vast fire in a warehouse filled with explosive material. The entire cadre of professional departments waited in a line, far away, a safe distance, from the danger. They watched as the structure burned and awaited its death. They would be fools to advance any closer to this raging inferno and impending explosion. Some noticed the patched up, vintage fire truck cresting the hill behind them and barrowing ever closer to their position of safety. Everyone was amazed as they sped past the point of safety moving deliberately toward the blaze and the impending explosion. They noticed the volunteer firefighters held onto the side of old fire truck – hanging on for dear life. The old truck coasted to stop just feet away from the blazing fire. Several fighters in their more modern vehicles, inspired by the courage of this rag tag department, followed their lead. Within seconds all the responding companies were in the fight and soon the fire was under control, and then it was all but extinguished. Immediately thereafter, scores of weary fire fighters rushed to praise the brave men who inspired them by their reckless disregard the real and present danger that cautioned them to stay far away. When asked for an explanation of their apparent bravery, the old fire chief said, “We just couldn’t stop that damn truck. The brakes failed as we crested that last hill, but, when we saw the rest of you charging the burning building we were inspired to join in.”

For bravery to exist there must be danger, real and eminent danger, mortal danger. In the full knowledge of that threat to life, there must transpire a right action. As in most citations for bravery, the words, “With a disregard for his or her own safety” will be spoken. Some bravery results in the death of the brave, some in grave injury, and in some no harm results. In all cases a threat of deadly injury, real or merely perceived, is required.

There is an economy of bravery. It might be what Jesus calls, “counting the cost.” There ought to be applied an “if/then” assessment. If I do this, then I will likely die or suffer a significant loss. Even then the decision to act cannot be a mere reward/risk analysis. Such considerations might be wise but they are not courageous. These are calculated risks. The wisdom behind insurance industry is to spread the risk out by multiplying the number of incidences so the odds of a net loss are nearly impossible. This calculated risk is not courage. Then there is the pool hustler who has an accomplice bet against him while he dumps the game and in his losing he gains great rewards.

True courage requires real risk wherein there is a likelihood of great harm. Jesus tells us to “lose our lives” in order to save our lives. This is a call to be courageous. The rewards are also real, in this life and in “the world to come.” Following Christ requires a reckless disregard for safety in order to advance our Lord’s Kingdom and to give witness to others that our “treasures” are ultimately not in this life, but in another’ that is in a post-resurrection, after death existence. This gain is so great; the only word to describe them is “glory.” It is said to be “an eternal weight of glory.”

I confess to you that I am frozen in the fear of impending loss. I fear the loss to the perceived security of this world. I stand at the poetics fork in the road. The road less traveled by possesses as many dangers and the one most traveled by. In a crisis, our choices are often limited to three: action, inaction, and an impending action. The follower of Christ cannot stay in an unrewarding situation; even one that is relatively free from danger just to maintain some worldly security. That is what one philosopher called “bad faith.” One can make the best of that circumstance. One can be as faithful to the Kingdom as possible in a bad and ignoble condition. One can move out of that wrong safe place, into a seemingly right place that holds the possibility of the greater advancement of Christ’s kingdom with the certainly of great temporal harm. If safety is our highest good, then we will lose the kingdom. There is the greatest risk in safety.

The third option is the one that is always wrong, always cowardly, and will never bring glory to God.  It is to be stuck between the kingdom and the world. It is to be frozen by fear. To be afraid to live for safety’s sake and afraid to die for life’s gain is the worst of all positions. It is being a believing coward. It is having a heart that would grasp the horns of the altar while frozen by the risk of letting go.

Dear God, save me from my terrors born in the imaginations of my small, pitiful mind.