Courage

Antique Mommy and I have been having a discussion by email about bravery, and she suggested we post about it. Here is hers. Our discussion began when she posted about a time she was uncertain whether to intervene on behalf of a stranger, and then regretted that she did not.

I understand that reluctant, paralyzed feeling.  I have felt it more than once.

I once saw three women attacking another woman.  I was picking up my husband from work. His job, like many others, is in a neighborhood mixed with big businesses and poor housing. Across the street from his parking lot I saw the fight.   I zipped across the street, honking wildly, hoping they would stop when they realized they were noticed.  They did not.  Az asked me what I was doing (he had not seen them), and I said, “They’re going to kill her!”

I stopped the car in front of the fight and he got out and did his big, angry man act, which he is very good at.  He is frightening when he wants to be.  The women stopped beating her, and she walked away, bleeding from her face and gloating and laughing.

The whole time Az was intervening, I sat in the car.  I was scared.  He was a little frustrated and said, when it was over, “Why didn’t you get out of the car?”  And I said, “Because I am a coward.”

I have thought a lot about that incident since, and about bravery.  For about a year after that fight, I prayed every day, simply, “Make me brave.” I still act cowardly sometimes, and I cannot intervene sometimes or be too confrontational when I have kids around, but I get involved much more than I used to.  I never want to sit in the car alone with my own cowardice again. I hope I never do.  But someday I may.  I still pray that prayer.

I think what I have learned most is that bravery is a gift of God, and not something we possess naturally.  Everybody learns it in little pieces, and the faithful continue to learn throughout their lives.  And the merciful God turns our cowardly moments into the wisdom that brings true courage - confidence in him, rather than ourselves.

Sometimes bravery is smaller. I have sat in debates where I was the only one willing to defend a certain point of view, even when I knew others shared it. I once had a cordial but passionate discussion with several colleagues about whether or not revelation from God is possible. The sad thing about this discussion was that several colleagues who believe in revelation would only sit silently and passively, not saying a word. They were afraid to defend, even in casual conversation, their deeply held beliefs.

What distresses me still more is how often these same colleagues choose to teach at evangelical schools, saying, “I wanted to be where I was free to say what I believe.” And I want to howl at them, “You were always free to say what you believe; you were just too frightened to do it.” I get exasperated beyond expression every time American evangelicals claim to be “persecuted.” Remaining silent from fear of being unliked is not persecution; it is cowardice. And I say that knowing I can be cowardly, too.

So what is the source of courage? I think it is the proper ranking of fears. If we fear ignobility more than looking foolish, we will be brave. If we fear our own corruption more than loneliness, we will be brave. If we fear divine disapproval more than human disapproval, we will be brave.

May the almighty God make us such people.

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If you want to post your own thoughts about courage in everyday life, please do. Leave a link so I can be sure to read it.