Encountering mob violence that threatened his life, the Apostle Paul was temporarily protected in soldiers’ barracks. He was released only to face similar dangers that the activity of the previous day had generated. During the night the Apostle heard the Lord’s voice, Take courage! Jesus told the paralytic to, take heart. (KJV – Matthew 9:1) He told the woman suffering with a hemorrhage to take heart. (Matthew 9:22) Jesus spoke in the storm on the lake, as he walked toward trembling disciples, Take courage! It is I. Be not afraid. (Matthew 14:27) After projecting difficult future experiences for the disciples, Jesus said, “. . . . take heart I have overcome the World.” (John 16:33)
In several extreme moments of crisis Jesus did not instruct his listeners to pray, to run away, to study solutions, to rest in others. He told them to take courage or, in synonym, to take heart. Apparently inner courage is a factor we rightly relate to the outward application of our faith – God is with us helping to bear burdens partly by strengthening our inner resources. He seems to engender meaning in seeing us through, and in challenging the soul to show its strength. There is the courage of the soldier, even when he is frightened. There is the courage of a mother with a troublesome child, when she doesn’t know what to do. There is place for courage when one feels the threat of deep illness. Courage comes from within, and God assists it if we believe to participate. It is not an external thing. Those who exercise it have a gift for flourishing life.
My mother told me the story of the first months of my life. My health was in constant jeopardy. I was a large infant, weighing fifteen pounds at birth. To avoid breaking bones, mother carried me on a pillow. We had no family doctor, but one evening when I was seriously congested, a physician was called. He said there was nothing that he could do, and left promising to call in the morning. My mother was alone in that her roomers could not address the matter, and my father was not committed to domesticity. When all adults were abed that night, mother went into the dark living room, bared her bosom drawing me close to her. With a blanket over us she rocked, sang softly some lullaby, talked to God, and sometimes moaned. In the morning the doctor declared: There has been a miracle here, your baby will get well. And, that was the way of it. In their own way others had given up, mostly in silence. Not so my mother. She took courage, and that is what I saw in her for all the years I knew her, early and late in life. What a gift to me.
A repeated counsel of Jesus was to take courage. It is vital in trial and uncertainty. It is more than our buck up ol’ man. Go down into the depths of your being. There is something there that will help you through. This is advanced strength. It has grit and authority. It is always there, but must be invoked and practiced. It is given to the mind as well as the human spirit, and when exercised it not only makes us feel better, we are better. We rise above circumstances. Some things we can do for ourselves because God gave us the horsepower to function. He can strengthen resolve but we must invoke it on our own. It is not pride but creative authority planted by God as a resource. It is part of faith. It is meant for us, in life and in death. Sometimes it becomes vital in the lives of others, as it was for me in the determination of my mother. This may be part of a person’s ministry to others. Certainly it is needed on occasion between husband and wife, between parents and children, between employers and employees. It is a way of life. It is not a silly or naive attitude that interprets tragedy as good, but a determination to find solutions and conducts that make faith meaningful and practical in difficult circumstances. *Mark W. Lee, Sr. — 2016, 2020