During this Christmas season, our family went to see the wonderful inspirational movie Invictus, about how Nelson Mandela led a racially divided South Africa toward reconciliation and unity through preserving, encouraging and inspiring the losing rugby team, the Springboks. The film has been nominated for three Golden Globe awards and has received critical and popular acclaim and is well worth seeing. It is especially of interest to leaders as it is a clinic on how to provide moral leadership by way of example.In the movie, a critical moment arrives when Mandela gives Francios Pienaar a copy of the poem Invictus (Latin: Unconquered).
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
There is one minor point: it never happened. Nelson Mandela never gave Invictus to Francios Pienaar. Even though I liked the movie a lot, that poem was one obvioiusly false note in an otherwise beautiful symphony. In my spirit, I knew it was false. I knew that Mandela was a man who attributed his success in moral leadership to his Christian faith, and this poem was at odds with that. Sure enough, when I investigated a little, I discovered Mandela actually gave an entirely different text to him. He gave him an excerpt from Teddy Roosevelt's The Man in the Arena:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
Some, in the postmodern tradition, say this doesn’t matter. Steve W. Schaefer, in The Union-Recorder said: 'I doubt if this matters much. “Invictus” is a better title than “The Man in the Arena.” '
Actually it does matter. Truth matters. And whether we give the credit to autonomous man and his “unconquerable human spirit” and “whatever gods may be” or to the living God, who is the only source of all that is good, matters far more than many realize. Since the end for which God created the universe is his glory, it matters a lot. And since the reason we are in this world is to glorify and enjoy him, it matters a lot to us. Above all it matters to God whether we give him the credit he alone deserves, or whether we try to rob him of it by ignoring him, or worse.
Nelson Mandela was able to exercise powerful moral leadership in forgiveness and reconciliation because he worshipped One who has given us the priceless gift of forgiveness and reconciliation at a great cost to himself. We are able to give only out of what we have received.
Mandela received inspiration from Teddy Roosevelt, a proponent of “muscular Christianity.” And where did Teddy Roosevelt receive inspiration? He was a voracious reader who read five books a week. He read one work at least a dozen times: Puritan Cotton Mather’s To Do Good.
In Documentary History of Philanthropy and Volunteerism in America, Peter Hall cites Matter’s work as seminal in the development of the modern outlook on social transformation:
[To Do Good] bridges two worlds -- the late medieval epoch out of which Puritanism emerged (and which is in many ways epitomized by Winthrop's "Modell") and the modern epoch of self-determined individuals and voluntary associations. Winthrop embraced the concept of spiritual sovereignty, but resisted its economic and political implications: for him, community was defined by the interdependence of the poor and humble on the wealthy, learned, and dependable; as such, it was inseparable from the State, which remained the ultimate arbiter to the community's best interests and which, in all cases, stood above the claims of individuals.
For Mather, on the other hand, because the State and society were untrustworthy and subject to corruption, the source of a truly Christian community was, first of all, the reborn individual and, secondly, the capacity of such individuals to voluntarily associate for the purpose of bringing about the reformation and redemption of society and the State. This distinction between the two, together with an emphasis on voluntary associations as agents of change, was truly revolutionary. Like most medieval men, Winthrop accepted the world as an expression of God's will and intentions. Mather, on the other hand, saw it as chaotic and unformed, awaiting only the application of the organized force of reasonable men organized into voluntary bodies. This is a quintessentially modern outlook.
And what was Mather’s source of inspiration? To Do Good was simply an exposition, reflection and application of Galatians 6:10:
As we have opportunity, let us do good to all men.
The ancient Israelites had a saying, “Give God the glory.” It meant to admit the truth. We don’t deserve the credit for the all the good things he has so graciously given us, and if we are honest we will not try to rob him of the credit. We will give him the glory he alone deserves.
Soi Deo Gloria
