Lessons from Lewis

I don't know where I first heard it, but at some point along the way I heard someone say or sing; "Next verse same as the first." While the significance of that statement was largely lost on me at the time, its profundity continues to gain momentum in my mind. As I watch life lived around me and study the lives of those who have gone before me, I realize that there are essentially two paths that we follow. One path is the way of life and the other leads to destruction. On the path of light and life, the next verse is virtually the same as the first. On the path that leads to destruction, the next verse is the same as the first. The outcome is no respecter of persons. It does not take into account the sum total of good a person did along the way. There is abundance and peace on the narrow road that leads to life and carnage and destruction on the broad road of self indulgence.

That lesson was reaffirmed all over again as I read the concluding pages of the Stephen Ambrose bestseller, Undaunted Courage. It is the gripping story of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, told through the eyes of one of the world's greatest explorers, Meriwether Lewis.

I think I picked the book up because another book I was reading quoted Lewis' journal entry on his 31st birthday. The Corps of Discovery was about to tackle the seemingly unconquerable barrier of the Rocky Mountains. The daunting task before him, and the nostalgia of his birthday seems to have compelled Lewis to take inventory of his past and make some corrective resolutions for the future. He wrote:

"This day I completed my thirty first year, and conceived that I had in all human probability now existed about half the period which I am to remain in this Sublunary world. I reflected that I had as yet done but little, very little indeed, to further the hapiness of the human race, or to advance the information of the succeeding generation. I viewed with regret the many hours I have spent in indolence, and now soarly feel the want of that information which those hours would have given me had they been judiciously expended. but since they are past and cannot be recalled, I dash from me the gloomy thought and resolved in future, to redouble my exertions and at least indeavour to promote those two primary objects of human existance, by giving them the aid of that portion of talents which nature and fortune have bestoed on me; or in future, to live for mankind, as I have heretofore lived for myself."

Inspired by that quote and the success of the mission, I secured my copy of Undaunted Courage hoping to gain some leadership insight from this great leader. Though the ultimate lesson was shocking, I was not disappointed.

There were a few lessons I relearned that bear repeating:

1. The necessity of unwavering hope and optimism in a leader. The day Lewis first laid eyes on the Rocky Mountains provided a bittersweet moment. The headwaters of the Missouri River were within reach, but as Lewis wrote, "When I reflected on the difficulties which the snowey barrier would most probably throw in my way to the Pacific, and the sufferings and harships of myself and party in them, it in some measure counterballanced the joy I had felt in the first moments in which I gazed on them." However sobering, the sight ultimately summoned his ever-present optimism, "As I have always held it a crime to anticipate evils I will believe it a good comfortable road untill I am conpelled to beleive differently."


2. The importance of building a fantastic team. The lesson began at the top. Thomas Jefferson enlisted Lewis. Lewis enlisted Clark. Together Lewis and Clark enlisted an "A" team of people who made up the Corps of Discovery. Every member of the team was vested with mission critical responsibilities and given the freedom and the trust necessary to perform.


3. The obligation to fully leverage the resources with which you have been entrusted. The exploration west was a true expression Lewis' best gifts. He was curious, courageous and adventuresome. He loved the outdoors and he loved his country. Leading the Corps of Discovery to the Pacific Ocean was true to his nature as well as his nurture and in doing so he fully leveraged all the lessons life taught him.

There are certainly many other lessons packed in the pages of Undaunted Courage, but the one that is most impressive is the lesson of what happens when good people stay on the broad road of destruction. I am embarrassed to say that I had no idea how his story ended. It may be a by-product of my South Carolina education (just kidding), or more likely not paying attention the day my history teacher went over the tragic ending. Whatever the case, I had no idea that three short years after completing the assignment that would make him a hero to generations, Meriwether Lewis committed suicide.

He was suffering from depression, alcoholism, drug addiction, a staggering debt load and a failing administration as the Governor of the Louisiana Territory. On his way to Washington D.C., to account for questionable decision making, he did the deed. He was staying in a bed and breakfast 72 miles west of Nashville, Tenn. In the early morning hours of Octorber 11, 1809, he shot himself twice. He lived for several hours after the shots, finally found his razor and cut himself from head to foot. His servant found him alive and alert in a pool of blood. Among the last things he said were, "I have done the business my good Servant give me some water. I am no coward; but I am so strong, [it is] so hard to die." And with that Meriwether Lewis went to meet his maker.

Here was a wildly successful man whose hopes were pinned on worldly success, when he attained it in full measure. But in the end his successes left him empty and destitute. His is a sad story told over and over again on the broad road of destruction. Same song, different verse.

Culture Shock

Processing and then communicating the lessons learned on a mission trip is obviously one of the most important aspects of the journey but also one of the most difficult. Words and stories really don't do justice to the experience. It's not unlike trying to explain a life transforming encounter with God. Any attempt to communicate what really happened seems to diminish the sacred nature of the moment. To try and give speech to experiences that left us speechless seems futile.

But here we are, back from Southeast Asia, desiring to be good stewards of the experience, the stories, and the lessons that we learned in the "Land of Wonders." My plan is to tell some of the stories through our talks on Sunday mornings. God taught our team some wonderful life lessons through the people we met and the things we saw. It was our privilege to partner with some incredible believers. These are people who are in the extreme minority and in many cases have been ostracized by their families because they follow Jesus. Their efforts to reach their friends and family with the good news of Jesus was both inspiring and humbling. So you will hear about them and the things God taught us through their commitment.

However, I do want to try and communicate one lesson that I was reminded of due to the extreme cultural difference we encountered. At times the cultural difference was shocking, and while I don't know if I can say that I experienced culture shock, what I do know is that I was keenly aware of the fact that I was not at home in their culture.

The most pronounced difference I noted was the assault on my personal space. WOW! It felt like there were people all over me all the time. Unless you've been there, I'm not sure that you can actually comprehend what it means to experience such egregious personal space violations. One evening we were having dinner at the retreat center where we were staying for our leadership conference. (Ironically, I was doing leadership training for these Christian leaders who should have been training me.) We were meeting in a Catholic retreat center, so there were lots of people there who were not necessarily affiliated with our conference. One night about 8 p.m. we entered the dining hall to have dinner. There were around 15 to 20 tables, with four to six chairs around each. My five teammates were sitting at two of the tables and, since we were alone, I sat at a table between the two by myself (room to breathe). While we were eating, six men came in, went through the line to get their food and proceeded to select their table. I didn't really notice where they were going to land until I felt a chair bump mine. As I looked up one member of my group was motioning for me to slide my chair in to give them room. If you could have seen the look on my face. There were 12 empty tables in that room and they sat at the one that squeezed me. I wanted to say ... well let's just say that I had some questions that I would've liked to ask at that time.

Why would they do that? The only explanation is that there is no such thing as personal space. From their perspective it wasn't rude, or inconsiderate or intrusive at all. It didn't occur to them that sitting at that table would be an inconvenience to me because they have no concept of the sacred nature of my personal space. Looking back it is still inconceivable to me that they would select that table, but they did because they look at the world through a different set of eyes. It is a cultural difference that doesn't make one of us right and the other one wrong, it just makes us see and think about things differently.

As I have looked back at that night and realized how uncomfortable I felt in their place, I have been reminded of just how important it is to consider how people feel in our place. For many people, church is a culture unto itself. When unchurched people who are seeking truth visit with us, they experience something that is completely foreign to them. Some of the things that are completely normal to us would be discomfiting to them and could cause them to miss the beauty of our community and our CAUSE.

I know good and well that the group of men in the dining hall owed me nothing. They didn't have a problem they needed to fix. I'm the one who needed to make an adjustment. However, when people come into our space looking for the truth, the tables are completely turned. It's our responsibility to try to understand their perspective, and work diligently to put them at ease in our environment. We have to do everything in our power to remove the distractions so they can have a life transforming encounter with the living God.