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Making
things happen - with integrity. A weekly CyberMemo designed to keep you on task. An original essay written by Ken Kemp Monday, April 24, 2000 Volume II Number 17
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FOCUS - Resurrection
An ancient short story survives the centuries, and carries a simple message from ages past into a new millennium.
Four sons of royalty face the prospect of leaving the privilege and wonder of their palace home. Their aim is to learn a state-of-the-art skill that will take the kingdom to a new level of sophistication. They agree on a time frame for travel and study and then they schedule a reunion. After they bid one another farewell, they set out on their journey each in his own direction.
At the appointed time, the four brothers return. As each tells of their experience and apprenticeship and mastery of a new science, they realize they could very well collaborate their efforts and achieve remarkable results.
The first begins, "I have learned how to take a fragment of bone and from it, create a complete skeleton." The second, with excitement claims, "from a skeleton I can create organs and muscle and tendons to match the bones." The third, with increasing enthusiasm proclaims, "from a skeleton with flesh and working organs, I can create skin to contain and protect the organs with hair and fur." The fourth could hardly be still. He bursts with pride. "And I," he says, "have learned to inject life into such a creature."
Amazed, the four brothers run deep into the jungle to attempt their first experiment. They find a bone fragment. What they do not know, according to the legend, is that the bone fragment is that of a lion. The first brother begins his work – a skeleton is formed. The second adds muscle fiber and organs. The third a coat of skin and fur. The fourth, in the most amazing feat of all, imparts life to the magnificent animal.
In the next instant, the four brothers’ amazement turns to terror.
The lion stands, takes a long stretch, shakes his heavy mane and turns to face his four creators. He fills his lungs with jungle air, locks in a hungry stare, flashes ferocious sharp teeth, extends menacing razor claws and releases a monstrous roar. Frozen with fear, the startled brothers look at the lion, then at each other. And before they can react, the lion pounces and devours all four in a horrific spilt second.
That’s it. The end.
That’s how the story’s been told for centuries. (For the record, it is, as you have come to expect, my paraphrase.)
Classic short stories of antiquity make a point. The more graphic, the more poignant – and the more lasting the impression.
This ancient tale of the four brothers and the lion illustrates the wide-eyed eagerness of youth. The universal need to strike out on one’s own (even from a home base of privilege). To learn something new and contemporary and cutting edge. And then to join forces with one’s peers and stun the world with bold and daring invention.
But that’s not the main point. This simple story underscores the clear distinction between knowledge and wisdom. Even in the possession of extraordinary knowledge, the absence of wisdom can lead to devastating calamity.
Within the cleverest of inventions lie the seeds of self-destruction.
* * * * * * * * * *
Everywhere I go these days, I run into someone with a hot NASDAQ tip.
Standing in line at the Post Office in
April 14th, nearing this year’s tax filing deadline, I strike up a
conversation with a complete stranger. After
awhile, as we bemoan yet another day of NASDAQ 
hemorrhaging, he lowers his
voice, checks over both shoulders, looks me right in the eye and tells me about
the Hot One apparently only he and a limited number of lucky others know about.
In a near whisper, a kind of reverential hush, he utters the secret.
He’s cautious. Like maybe
someone else in line might overhear and mess things up.
All I need remember, he says, are those four magic letters.
The SYMBOL that will lead to untold riches.
Look it up, he says. Check it out. Then he adds his personal guarantee. You won’t be sorry, he winks.
I guess it’s because we all know that it’s illegal to pass around “insider information.” We’re not quite sure what constitutes a violation, but we know it could very well lead to a long jail term. There’s a kind of private exhilaration that comes from not only knowing, but clandestinely sharing it. Makes one feel like one is taking the big risk. Living on the ragged edge. That cherished adrenaline rush kicks in. Like living out a movie script.
A neighbor gave me another one over the fence just the other day. Also in hushed tones. A sure winner, he said. He knows because his son works for the company. Incredible, he added. That, I believed.
Or the head of the “Ag” department at the weekend open house at the local high school last Saturday. The primary reason for the high level of confidence in his magic symbol is that “physicians are investing like crazy in this thing.” As though medical doctors are masters of investment due diligence.
Investing is both a science and an art. But these days, for many folks, the national obsession for investing is right in there with the lottery, the racetrack and the proliferating casino industry. It’s a game of chance.
(And if you believe television advertising, you’ll believe that “gaming” is the road that leads to “Indian Self-Reliance.”)
Gambling is rooted in the hope that you’ll get a whole lot of something for not much of anything. You may answer the question “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?” with the simple word, “Me.” But I suggest that if you really want to be a millionaire, you try something other than tossing the proverbial dice out there on the green felt of the gambling table.
The NASDAQ is a wonderful invention. As is the Internet and all the attending gadgets and peripherals and software and connectivity. It’s staggering.
But it you want participate, you’ll need more than knowledge (even if that knowledge comes to you in hushed tones in line at the Post Office).
You’ll need wisdom.
* * * * * * * * * *
This year, my niece, Heidi, decided she wanted to serve God and her follow man by working the mean streets of downtown San Francisco. It’s a tough part of town. She and her colleagues bring relief to hungry people. She’s working with a team of other young adults to create alternative youth programs, recreation, support groups and Bible studies.
This week, she had her first reality
check. Heidi’s experience has
been exciting and fun and full of
meaning and purpose.
But this week, there was a casualty.
When Jennifer started out walking those mean streets of the city, she was just looking for a buzz. A chemical high that would take the edge off the pain. A distraction from the constant pressure of knowing that she just wasn’t making it. She couldn’t pay the rent. Couldn’t hold down a job. Couldn’t afford cool clothes. Much less a car or a weekend out of the city.
Sometimes, she was just plain hungry.
When Heidi met Jennifer, she saw past the obvious signs of self-abuse to someone with potential for good. Heidi saw in her a person with a heart. A young girl who had the intelligence, and wit, and charm, and capacity to become a fully alive, vibrant woman… maybe someday even a leader, a mom, a counselor. Someone who might someday even help others.
Maybe it was the hope Jennifer saw reflected in Heidi’s eyes that made her come back - as she did, time and again. Heidi and her friends gave her a nickname: “Fer.” Fer had promise. But the damage was real, too. It wasn’t going to be easy.
When Fer came around, the first thing she wanted was a Heidi hug. And when she’d leave, she’d ask for just one more. “No one hugs me but you,” she told Heidi.
So when the news came this week, it broke Heidi’s heart. Those drugs, designed for healing and relief, those powerful drugs which should only be properly prescribed and carefully monitored by a physician, those drugs, so easily abused, those drugs… took Fer’s life.
They called it an overdose.
Heidi and her friends are grieving a tragedy only they understand. “Fer” was otherwise alone. There is no one else to grieve.
But now, this team of workers has a new sense of purpose. It really is a matter of life and death.
* * * * * * * * * *
It’s another Monday. But not just any Monday.
Perhaps, at the end of last week, you entered into the grief of “good” Friday. And by Sunday, you were ready to set the mourning of loss aside, and embrace the good gift of life.
I trust that on this Monday morning you are fresh off an exuberant celebration of resurrection. That the music and sermonizing and family gatherings delivered a potent dose of perspective and hope.
Look around you. The earth has come alive. The brilliant color has returned. The air is fresh with the scent of blossoms. For us, it’s the rich aroma of citrus trees, naval and Valencia oranges and juicy grapefruit, all ready and eager to pollinate. The gentle rains make our hills and valleys and meadows bright green.
What was just a couple months ago considered wintertime dead has come alive again. It’s the resurrection of Spring.
On the road to get where you are today, you’ve taken some hits. Maybe that invention or novel idea of yours turned on you. Maybe the hot NASDAQ tip failed to deliver. Maybe that ministry of yours fell short of achieving the high and lofty goals you set.
But in the process, that knowledge you worked so hard to accumulate and master is in the process of becoming wisdom. Knowledge can evolve into wisdom, if you let it. And in the total scheme of things, I’ll take wisdom over knowledge any day of the week.
And that celebration of resurrection – well, really, it’s rooted in the celebration of Resurrection. Get it?
And on this Monday morning, let it energize you for a whole new day.
© Copyright Kenneth E. Kemp 2000
The Four Brothers and the Lion taken from "Tales of Ancient India" translated from Sanskrit by J. A. B. van Buiteman and quoted by Henri Nouwen (The Wounded Healer, Doubleday, 1972)
Special Thanks to my good friend David Belcher, owner of Rhino Media Group and creator of WisdomGram
LeaderFOCUS is a service of Good Stewardship Associates
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