Big Country for Leadership

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7CDRg4jL3c/X7VHxd0Sn1I/AAAAAAABQHQ/fa_uwcGcx8MqhG5H2QdwgIcxBnugH3h3gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1023/Albert%2BBierstadt%2B-%2BAmong%2Bthe%2BSierra%2BNevada%252C%2BCalifornia.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="1023" height="382" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7CDRg4jL3c/X7VHxd0Sn1I/AAAAAAABQHQ/fa_uwcGcx8MqhG5H2QdwgIcxBnugH3h3gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h382/Albert%2BBierstadt%2B-%2BAmong%2Bthe%2BSierra%2BNevada%252C%2BCalifornia.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Albert_Bierstadt_-_Among_the_Sierra_Nevada,_California_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg">Among the Sierra Nevada, California</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Albert Bierstadt, 1868 (public domain - Wikipedia)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"And this our life, exempt from public haunt,</strong></em></strong></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,</strong></em></strong></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>Sermons in stones, and good in every thing."</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— William Shakespeare, 1599</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />We can find inspiration anywhere we look, if we keep the proper mindset.</p><p>Gratitude combined with curiosity — being a lifelong learner — is a formula that can set us up for success.</p><p>I usually pull stories from history or literature as guides for leadership and communication. In this case, I'm going to switch it up a bit.</p><p>Last week I came across a scene in the 1958 Academy Award-winning film <em><strong><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051411/">The Big Country</a></strong></em> that gave me pause.</p><p>In this edition of Timeless & Timely, I'm going to take you through the scene and point out some key takeaways for leaders. And in a gutsy move, in Friday's edition I'm going to analyze the "Main Title" from the soundtrack by Jerome Moss as one befitting leaders. You won't want to miss that, so <b><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/suscribe" target="_blank">sign up as a paid subscriber now</a></b>.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><br />The Big Country</em> is an epic Western directed by William Wyler (who also directed <em>Ben Hur</em>, <em>Roman Holiday</em>, <em>The Best Years of Our Lives</em>) and starring Gregory Peck, Jean Simmons, Burl Ives, Charlton Heston and Chuck Connors. It follows retired sea captain <strong>James McKay</strong> (Peck) who heads out west to meet up with his fiancée and her family, the Terrills.</p><p>The Terrills are ranchers have an ongoing feud with another family of ranchers, the Hannasseys. (Incidentally, a recent issue of the newsletter, "<strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/concession-stand">Concession Stand</a></strong>," concerned feuds.) Burl Ives plays <strong>Rufus</strong>, the clan's father; Chuck Connors plays his hot-headed son <strong>Buck</strong>.</p><p>Between the two properties is an abandoned ranch house called "Big Muddy" which sits on land that includes the river that's a source of water for both sets of cattle, particularly during times of drought. <strong>Julie Maragon</strong> (Simmons) owns the house and sells it to McKay, who agrees to continue her tradition of allowing both families' cattle access to the river.</p><p>Meanwhile, Buck tries to persuade Rufus that he is planning to marry Julie. Buck brings her to the Hannessey's, in hopes of persuading her to sell Big Muddy to him and get married, but Julie reveals that she sold it already, and Rufus realizes her interest is in McKay.</p><p>Because he knows the <strong>Major</strong> (head of the Terrill family) will attempt to rescue her, Buck takes Julie hostage, hoping to ambush him in the canyon leading to his homestead. Although McKay personally promises Rufus equal access to the water, he finds himself in a clash with Buck, which is ultimately settled with a duel—a duel with the very set of dueling pistols that McKay presented to the Major.</p><p>And here we pick up at <strong><a href="https://youtu.be/Hw2D9eFrIao">the duel scene</a></strong>:</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Hw2D9eFrIao" width="560"></iframe></p><p><br />This scene is one of the reasons Burl Ives received an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for this film. It’s a powerful demonstration of conflicting emotions.</p><p>Duels are based on a code of honor—typically honor that the challenger wishes to restore. Participants are expected to act with honor in carrying out the duel, and that also goes for the seconds, who act as representatives to the two parties.</p><p>In the case of the duel in <em>The Big Country</em>, Rufus acted as a neutral second for Buck and McKay, laying out the rules very plainly:</p><p><em><strong>“If either man tries to beat the signal, it's my duty to shoot him down like a dog, and I'll do it. So help me. This thing's gonna be done right and proper.”</strong></em></p><p>Buck fires before the signal, but misses, his bullet grazing McKay's forehead and leaving McKay with a free shot. As McKay prepares his shot, Buck responds in a craven and cowardly way, attempting to fire the pistol again and then cowering in fear as he hides behind a wagon wheel.</p><p>Rufus knows that the duel must be completed in the right and honorable way. We can see him struggling with his role and his underlying emotions, knowing that his son is a coward and violated the rules, as he insists McKay take his shot.</p><p>McKay, thoroughly disgusted by Buck's behavior, fires his shot into the ground, thereby requiring Rufus to fulfill his prophecy. Seeing an opportunity to kill McKay, Buck snatches another gun from a nearby cowboy. Rufus shoots him on the spot.</p><p>As Rufus approaches Buck, he varies between anger and anguish: anger over Buck's repeated dishonorable actions, even after Rufus warned him. And anguish over having to shoot his own son, who then dies in his arms.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Leadership Lessons</strong></h2><p>Both McKay and Rufus give us lessons here. Lessons on de-escalation, grace, integrity, honor, and making difficult choices.</p><p>Buck is eager to fight, goading McKay on, while McKay prefers to settle things amicably, as evidenced through his willingness to allow both families' cattle access to his land. He clearly doesn't like confrontation, and even when he has a chance to honorably kill his opponent, he chooses to de-escalate. He handles himself with <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/god-shed-his-grace-on-thee">grace</a></strong>.</p><p>We all have situations in which we find ourselves when we might humiliate a competitor or a peer. It's the easy thing to do (and in some cases, it the schadenfreude might feel good). But it's not honorable. If we allow them to save face or to make their own choices in such situations, we'll show them the importance of grace and generosity in leadership.</p><p>Rufus does what every good leader should do: he communicates his vision and intention clearly, using plainspoken language. When faced with a situation that tests his moral compass, he keeps his true north, as difficult as it was. He knew that his honor and integrity rested on <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/say-what-you-do-and-do-what-you-say">staying true to his word</a></strong>.</p><p>If you're going to stand for something—so many brands claiming the moral high ground with "purpose-based marketing" these days—then you need to exhibit it at every turn. It's not enough to slap "purpose" on something, in the way that many companies have hidden behind their corporate social responsibility (CSR) efforts.</p><p>Purpose, values, and integrity are inextricably linked. The moment you act in a way that violates one of them, the whole house of cards comes down.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p>I'll be back later this week for subscribers with some commentary on Jerome Moross's theme to <i>The Big Country</i> and how it showed leadership. I hope you'll <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe">join as a subscriber</a></strong> to get that.</p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the November 18 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div>

Big Country for Leadership

Among the Sierra Nevada, California  by Albert Bierstadt, 1868 (public domain - Wikipedia) "And this our life, exempt from public haunt...

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Finding Positives in a Pandemic

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1M2XOLrMVSI/X6uOnvVjamI/AAAAAAABP8s/gJlQ8nQQ9WcoLngGrL0QYLha6rK8lsbHgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1024/Michiel%2BSweerts%2B-%2BPlague%2Bin%2Ban%2BAncient%2BCity.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img alt="Painting of people laying around an ancient city as they suffer from the plague" border="0" data-original-height="704" data-original-width="1024" height="440" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1M2XOLrMVSI/X6uOnvVjamI/AAAAAAABP8s/gJlQ8nQQ9WcoLngGrL0QYLha6rK8lsbHgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h440/Michiel%2BSweerts%2B-%2BPlague%2Bin%2Ban%2BAncient%2BCity.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><figcaption class="image-caption" data-pm-context="["captionedImage",null]"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Plague_in_an_Ancient_City_LACMA_AC1997.10.1_(1_of_2).jpg" target="_blank">Plague in an Ancient City</a></em> by Michiel Sweerts, c. 1653 (public domain - Wikipedia)</span></figcaption></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><hr /></div></div><div><p data-pm-context="[]"><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"What we learn in the time of pestilence: that there are more things to admire in men than to despise." </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p data-pm-context="[]"></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Albert Camus, 1947</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>The story I'll share with you in this edition of the newsletter is more personal than most. But the lessons are universal.</p><p>A couple of weeks ago, I tested positive for Covid-19.</p><p>It was a complete surprise, since I haven't traveled since March when I returned from a client meeting in New York. Sure, I make occasional runs to the supermarket or the post office, but I don't linger, I maintain distance, and I always wear a mask.</p><p>I developed some symptoms of what I thought was a mild cold: congestion, aches, a bit of a cough, and a fever. But when I came in from a couple of hours outside mowing, I felt completely wiped out. Abnormally so.</p><p>So I went for a rapid test and a regular test. I was one of the first to arrive in the parking lot, securing a spot in front of the medical testing facility. They took my paperwork, swabbed me a couple of times, and I was on my way in 10 minutes. During that time though, the line of cars began to build up, until it rambled around the parking lot in a serpentine-like pattern.</p><p>By late morning, I had my diagnosis: positive. I had to ask the technician to repeat it because I didn't believe it.</p><p>Yes, positive. And I needed to quarantine for 10-14 days. The longer-form test confirmed this the following day.</p><p>At home, it's my wife and our three children; the two oldest (both boys) had also experienced some symptoms about a week prior to mine, so they all went off to get tested. Spoiler alert: the boys also tested positive; my wife and daughter tested negative.</p><p>Based on the timing, the boys were beyond contagion stage, so I was the one who needed to isolate for at least 10 days. We discussed the options, given the rooms each of us needed to use, and I set myself up.</p><p>Convalescence is drudgery, particularly when you're confined to a small space. You have a singular focus: to get better. You pass the time between fitful naps catching up on email, reading, watching, listening.</p><p>Thinking for a moment of my days spent in corporate environments, it was reminiscent a task force or committee that adjourns to the same conference room for every meeting, tasked with a tough assignment. In an almost Groundhog Day-like state, the team just goes through the same motions, in a seemingly unending replay of agendas.</p><p>My symptoms were mild; the fever abated, but the rest remained. It felt less like I was making progress on my health and more as if I was marking the days of penal servitude.</p><p>The isolation was the hardest part of this. I had very little interaction with anyone in the house, barring seeing them down the hallway as I headed to the bathroom. My wife would knock when she left my meals outside the door. It was like solitary confinement.</p><p>I've been fortunate that haven't suffered physically as much as some others. Right now, it's like a cold, but doesn't feel quite the same. It's hard to explain. Congestion, a slight cough, and feeling fatigued on random days for no reason.</p><p>Being alone gave me plenty of time to think (amid binging old episodes of "The West Wing," writing my newsletters, editing podcast episodes, and reading), and here are a few items I wanted to share:</p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Sometimes we have to make hard decisions.</strong></h3><p>I could have roamed free around the house, but I would have needlessly exposed family members to possible infection. So I took the solitary confinement route. As a society, we face some difficult decisions in the months ahead: giving up traveling to see family for Thanksgiving and Christmas may be among them.</p><p>This isn't a new concept; a letter from 640—as the Justinian plague was entering its eighth wave over 100 years—shows <strong><a href="https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/roundtable/stay-home-all-ye-faithful">the efficacy of travel bans during outbreaks</a></strong>.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Life is fragile.</strong></h3><p>One moment, we're walking around fine, the next moment we can find ourselves afflicted with something we didn't know we were exposed to. And even the healthiest among us are susceptible. I was fortunate, but nearly 240,000 others in America weren't. Life is a gift.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Humans aren't designed to be alone.</strong></h3><p>While Friedrich Nietzsche may have believed that "The sick man is the parasite of society," the reality is we need each other to survive, in person or through whatever communications methods we have.</p><p>Whether we express this through the delivery of food (through a slot in a door, a friendly neighbor dropping off a casserole, or a DoorDash delivery) or checking in with each other via text, FaceTime, Zoom call, email or good old fashioned letters. Keeping in touch and constantly communicating is a human necessity.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Friendships matter.</strong></h3><p>The number of comments I got on <strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/scottmonty/posts/10157344815461625">the post where I shared my positive diagnosis</a></strong> were astounding. As in too many to keep up with. I'm still trying to get back to as many people as possible, but it's going to take a while. It was a powerful reminder that those connections we make and relationships we build need our attention.</p><p>How often do you keep up the relationships you have, both personal and professional? In his newsletter For The Interested, Josh Spector shared this wonderful formula for <strong><a href="https://medium.com/curious/4-simple-emails-you-should-send-every-week-bc3e085ed496">the four emails you should send every week</a></strong>.</p><p>Summed up, they are: to an old friend; to a potential mentor; to someone you used to work with; and a message of support.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Family matters more.</strong></h3><p>In the end, the people we love are the ones who'll see us back to health or help us ease our way from this mortal coil. Having them in our lives is the best thing we can do for our lives. From receiving little "good night" notes from my youngest, to the goofy memes I'd text back and forth with my sons, to my loving wife's constant checking in on me and bringing me anything I needed—including some really nice meals—my family was so supportive.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Having to wait improves decision making.</strong></h3><p>When you're laid up and you can't get things for yourself, you become very aware and deliberate about your choices. No more wandering aimlessly to the pantry or rummaging around the fridge for whatever. Part of it was that I didn't want to put my wife to too much trouble by bugging her too much, but also that I knew there were things I didn't "need" — things that I could do without.</p><p>How much to we consume or do simply because it's easy to do? If you're finding yourself mindlessly doomscrolling, it's because it's easy. That thumb swipe is simple yet powerful, bringing so much information, rich and mind-numbing, to your eyes.</p><p>You know what's harder to do? To make yourself get out of a chair and take a walk. To sit down with a book, for an hour or two, uninterrupted. To write a letter you've been meaning to send. To make a phone call to someone who would benefit from hearing from you.</p><p>Not everything needs your attention now. You aren't required to respond instantly. Take some time. Deliberate. Free your mind from the pressures of the immediate.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"In the arts of life, man invents nothing; but in the arts of death, he outdoes nature herself and produces by chemistry and machinery all the slaughter of plague, pestilence, and famine." </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— George Bernard Shaw, 1905</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Clearly my time alone meant I could contemplate these things and more. But I wouldn't recommend you going out and getting infected so you can have your own epiphany (see how hard I'm working for you?).</p><p>Was my situation unfortunate? Could I have lamented my bad luck and concentrated on the tortuous existence? Of course. But I also knew that there are others who are worse off: alone since March; tethered to a ventilator in an intensive care unit; unable to say a final goodbye to loved ones in person.</p><p>Life greets us with many twists and turns and we find ourselves in situations we didn’t cause and that we can’t control. The only thing we can control is how we react.</p><p>Our circumstances and the events around us are gifts. Gifts that we can turn down or gifts that we can accept with a grace, a full heart, and an open mind.</p><p>For it is through those that we find growth.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h1><strong>Announcement</strong></h1><p>On Thursday, November 19 at noon EST, I'll be giving a live talk on <strong><a href="https://scottmontystrategies.regfox.com/transformational-storytelling">Transformational Storytelling</a></strong>. This is a talk that big companies and events hire me to give, to help their teams understand some of the classic elements of stories and how to rethink the storytelling process.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"https://scottmontystrategies.regfox.com/transformational-storytelling","text":"Register Now","class":null}" style="text-align: center;"><a class="button primary" href="https://scottmontystrategies.regfox.com/transformational-storytelling"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Register Now</span></b></a></p><p>Whether you work for a multinational conglomerate, a brand, or an agency, or you're a solopreneur—you can learn to communicate in a way that connects with audiences and inspires them to take action. It's all in the power of storytelling.</p><p>The cost to attend, including time for Q&A, is just <strong>$49</strong>. If you <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe">sign up as an annual paid subscriber to Timeless & Timely</a></strong>, you can attend for free. Just message me for the discount code.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /><br /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em>If you <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/subscribe" style="color: #280170; text-decoration-line: none;">become a subscriber</a></strong>, you'll get part 2 of this topic, including three timely links, three timeless stories, and a recommended book and podcast.</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the November 11 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div></div>

Finding Positives in a Pandemic

Plague in an Ancient City by Michiel Sweerts, c. 1653 (public domain - Wikipedia) "What we learn in the time of pestilence: that there...

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God Shed His Grace on Thee

<div class="separator"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_FF_mqoO8Lc/X6IwClavK3I/AAAAAAABP5M/whz-Sb7aYIYBXtaYEdu2zT49iXSzNSnLQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1509/John%2BJames%2BBarralet%2B-%2BAmerica%2BGuided%2Bby%2BWisdom.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Painting by John James Baralett of the goddess of Wisdom, is pointing to a shield, supported by the Genius of America, bearing the arms of the United States, with the motto UNION AND INDEPENDENCE" border="0" data-original-height="1124" data-original-width="1509" height="476" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_FF_mqoO8Lc/X6IwClavK3I/AAAAAAABP5M/whz-Sb7aYIYBXtaYEdu2zT49iXSzNSnLQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h476/John%2BJames%2BBarralet%2B-%2BAmerica%2BGuided%2Bby%2BWisdom.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2010634241/" target="_blank">America Guided by Wisdom: An allegorical representation of the United States depicting their independence and prosperity</a></i> by John James Barralet, 1815 (public domain — Library of Congress)</div></span><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“If you are ferocious in battle, remember to be magnanimous in victory.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Commander Tim Collins, 2003</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />As children, we learn that there’s no honor in being a sore loser.</p><p>We’re taught to shake hands and wish our opponents well, even if it means feigning happiness or enthusiasm for them.</p><p>But we also learn there’s no honor in being a sore winner, either.</p><p>No one likes someone who gloats, makes merry or rubs it in at their opponent’s expense.</p><p>These simple examples are representative of the concept of <strong>grace</strong>.</p><p>Grace has a number of definitions, from the more physical, meaning elegance of movement, to the religious, signifying the favor of God.</p><p>For our purposes, let’s focus on the definition of grace that means courteous goodwill. Magnanimity, if you will.</p><p>I’m reminded of the three Graces of mythology—the three daughters of Zeus and Hera: Aglaia (Brightness), Euphrosyne (Joyfulness), and Thalia (Bloom). Together, they were considered goddesses of charm and beauty.</p><p>To be able to wish an opponent well after a long and hard-fought battle takes charm. It takes grace. </p><p>And yet, we’re not always able to muster that strength.</p><p>Being magnanimous is a show of strength, not weakness—much like <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/vulnerability-and-leadership">vulnerability</a></strong> and <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/humility-or-futility">humility</a></strong> (leadership qualities we’ve discussed here previously). It takes a person with real character to cross that aisle and shake the hand, or to wish the other well, and to do it sincerely.</p><p>This? This is an example of the opposite:</p><blockquote class="twitter-tweet tw-align-center"><p dir="ltr" lang="en">Cry more, lib.</p>— Madison Cawthorn (@CawthornforNC) <a href="https://twitter.com/CawthornforNC/status/1323813315169165313?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">November 4, 2020</a></blockquote> <script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script><br />This is what the people of North Carolina elected last night.<p><br /></p><p>And while our election may seem like one of the most contentious, one of the most hard fought in recent history, it pales in comparison to the time our nation went to war against itself, losing nearly 620,000 men to the cause.</p><p>The war contained some of the most bloody battles in our nation’s history. At Gettysburg alone, there were over 7,000 deaths plus another 33,000 or so injured. At Little Round Top on that first day of battle at Gettysburg, Colonel Joshua Chamberlain led the efforts to hold the high ground. He became known as “Lion of the Round Top,” and thanks to his leadership, the 20th Maine regiment fended off the area from rebel forces with valor; had they not, the outcome may have been quite different. </p><p>But his truest act of leadership came two years later, when Col. Chamberlain was present in Appomattox when Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant. When the defeated rebels paraded past, <strong>Chamberlain ordered Union troops to dip the regimental colors as a sign of respect for a beaten foe</strong>. </p><p>What Chamberlain did, after all the blood, the years of fighting, in the wake of 618,000 deaths, made reunification a possibility.</p><p>He didn’t say, “Cry more, reb.”</p><p>He demonstrated grace.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>― Abraham Lincoln, 1861</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /><br /></div><h2><strong>America, the Beautiful</strong></h2><p>Ronald Reagan called America “the shining city on a hill.” He appealed to the hopes and dreams we share, appealing to our “better angels,” as Abraham Lincoln called them.</p><p>Lincoln’s quote above is taken from the closing line of his first inaugural address. Lincoln, if you'll recall, was the surprise nominee, from amid a field of candidates that included the old guard, such as William H. Seward, a former governor of New York and United States Senator; Salmon P. Chase, governor of Ohio; and Edward Bates, a former member of the U.S. House of Representatives. Lincoln secured the nomination, went on to win the general election, then in one of the most magnanimous gestures—a political masterstroke—he named these men to his cabinet.</p><p>This “team of rivals,” as they became known, was more invested in the country’s and Lincoln’s success rather than tearing it down and working against him. By extending a kind hand and showing them the grace that he thought they were owed, he got their loyalty.</p><p>The history of our country is filled with events and gestures, both small and large, written by men and women who were both petty and magnanimous, but who, were all imperfect humans.</p><p>Humans who need to ask for God’s grace as well as the grace of each other.</p><p>In closing, I’d like to consider some of the lyrics from the well-known anthem “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/America_the_Beautiful">America the Beautiful</a>,” as perhaps an key to what our country is crying out for right now.</p><p>The lyrics were adapted from a poem first written by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katharine_Lee_Bates">Katharine Lee Bates</a> in 1893 and set to music by Samuel A. Ward (incidentally the organist at Grace Episcopal Church in Newark) posthumously in 1903.</p><p>You know how it goes:</p><p><strong>“O beautiful for spacious skies, / For amber waves of grain.”</strong></p><p>The refrain in each verse begins with “America! America!” and then there are three different variations:</p><blockquote><p><strong>“God shed His grace on thee<br />And crown thy good with brotherhood<br />From sea to shining sea!”</strong></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><strong>“God mend thine every flaw,<br />Confirm thy soul in self-control,<br />Thy liberty in law!”</strong></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><strong>“May God thy gold refine,<br />Till all success be nobleness,<br />And every gain divine!”</strong></p></blockquote><p>Each of those refrains is not a statement of what has happened or what is in place. “God shed his grace on thee” isn't something that God already did.</p><p>Those are wishes. Plaintive pleas. An appeal to our better angels.</p><p>We’re looking for grace. We need our flaws to be mended. We should share the succor of our successes.</p><p>This is a great journey that we’re on, and we share the road. In so doing, we owe one another the best of what we have to offer, regardless of circumstances.</p><p>We should practice being gracious.</p><p>Particularly to those whom we’ve delivered a setback. Because we are not enemies, but friends. </p><p>God shed his grace on thee.</p><div><br /><hr /><br /></div><div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em>If you <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/subscribe" style="color: #280170; text-decoration-line: none;">become a subscriber</a></strong>, you'll get part 2 of this topic, including three timely links, three timeless stories, and a recommended book and podcast.</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the November 4 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div></div><p></p>

God Shed His Grace on Thee

America Guided by Wisdom: An allegorical representation of the United States depicting their independence and prosperity by John James Barr...

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