Sobering Lessons from Meriwether Lewis and the Lewis and Clark Expedition of Discovery

I just finished Stephen E. Ambrose’s Undaunted Courage: Meriwether Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West.

I don’t believe I’ve read anything about the Louisiana Purchase or the Lewis and Clark expedition since grade school. (Which of course was only a couple years after Lewis and Clark returned from their trip.)

Anyhow, I was amazed by the sheer heroism of this expedition, undertaken because of Thomas Jefferson’s vision to find an overland route to the Pacific Ocean.

Meriwether Lewis was a Renaissance man. Son and step-son of military men, he was an Army officer personally selected by Thomas Jefferson as his own right-hand man. Lewis was like a son to the President.

My Hero

One of the finest compliments I ever received was from a woman in my church. She said, “You remind me of Father Tim.” That was years ago, before she got to know me. Sigh. 

Father Timothy Kavanagh is a retired Episcopal priest who lives with his wife Cynthia in the North Carolina town of Mitford. He’s retired now, in his 70’s, and when he served as a pastor, he didn't have a big church and he wasn't a well-known speaker or writer. But still, he’s one of my heroes, and it would always be a compliment to be compared to him.

I Wouldn't Trade

The other night my son and I saw a science fiction movie starring one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. We went to a late showing, and I noticed that most of the theater audience were young men 

 

It was really a good movie, filled with mind-boggling special effects, stunning vistas of a future earth, and whiplash plot twists. But without question what made the film work was the star's heroism, athleticism, and believability.

Most of the young men in the audience would probably love to trade places with this guy. He is handsome, poised, does most of his own stunts, and has more money than the king of a small country. In his movies he is loved by gorgeous women, and in his real life he seems to be surrounded with stunning young females. I suppose it’s no wonder that many men think they would prefer his life over their own.

I reflected on all that as the IMAX sound system blew back what’s left of my hair. While I really enjoyed the movie, I wouldn't trade the movie star's life for the one I've been living all these years. 

Despite his toned muscles and killer smile, the star will grow old and die. His money won't save him, and the legacy of being a movie star won't matter in the end. None of his relationships with beautiful women has gone the distance. He may die alone. Saddest of all, he is a committed member of a cult religion. 

The things that are most admirable about him are ego-driven, self-gratifying, and pride-inflating. Jesus told a parable about a guy like him, who seemed to have it all, and then one day God demanded his soul. And the divine assessment of the man was abrupt and final: You fool! (see Luke 12:16-21). What does that say about those who wished his life could be theirs?

For me, a two-hour movie is entertainment.  But the best thing is, I get to go back to my real life. Because the Person I really admire has already traded His life for mine. The life He gave me lasts forever, and so do the the relationships and the riches.

My Captain

Sometimes I picture Jesus as my Captain, standing wounded on the deck of a pirate ship. A terrible battle rages around Him, and the ship is in flames. I feel myself unable to move, paralyzed with fear and chained to the bloodslick deck. I know my fate lies with the winner of this awful conflict.

Though bleeding from a dozen wounds, the Savior is more than a match for the brigands who attack Him. They're like a pack of dogs surrounding a lion. He stands strong and tall and righteous in the middle of the carnage, and wields His sword with incredible speed and deadly accuracy.

Then I see the enemy commander, an evil man clothed all in black, entering the fray and attacking the Lord from behind. His furious assault against Christ seems to shift the momentum, and the Lord is forced to fall back, losing His grip on the sword. For a moment, it seems all is lost. The pirate bores in for a final, killing stroke. 

But as the blade pierces His side, Jesus wraps His arms around the enemy and pulls him back over the deck and into the black water, holding him in a grip of iron as the sea closes over them. The battle is over.

Welling up within me is such pride and love and sorrow. He fought so nobly, but He was frightfully outnumbered. I collapse in my chains, sick and hopeless with grief.

But then at dawn I look again toward the ocean. And I see Him. His face, no longer grim and set for battle, shines with its own light. A couple powerful strokes bring Him back to the ship, and then He pulls Himself up, climbing back to the deck. Here He stands, impossibly, gloriously alive. My Captain has won against all odds, and I am saved.