Where Have All the Lincolns Gone? A Call for Kindness in Leadership

As a kid, upon watching, let’s say, a great basketball game, seeing my favorite player sink the winning bucket, even coming home from a high school game, I might go out to the hoop on the side of the church to shoot, imagining myself that player. Thinking that I, too, have that skill and vertical leap. Of course, then the ball clanks on the rim. But in my mind, the crowds cheer. The shot wins the game. So too, upon reading a great piece of writing and sitting down to comment on it, you think that you write as well as that author, that your words are worthy of the attention of thousands. Then the sentences fall apart, and the grammar check on the computer underlines word after word. Oh well.

However, let me try to tell you about the book “Team of Rivals” by Doris Kearns Goodwin. It seems many people I talk to have read it, and all agree that it is spectacular. It is the story of the political genius of Abraham Lincoln, who, when he was elected to the office of President, chose for his cabinet men who had opposed him in this election and others. He chooses those who had argued against him; he had even said disparaging words about this inexperienced, backwoods man who was elected at the most critical and fractured moment in our country’s history. He wanted those he considered the most capable and those who would give him a variety of views. 

The book also highlights another fact about Lincoln. He was incredibly kind and gracious to all. He would accept the blame when it wasn’t his. He would forgive slights and insults. He would display as he would later declare toward the south, “malice toward none.” This served him incredibly in his years in service, building loyalty and indeed love from all who knew him. Lincoln felt deeply for those around him, and especially for those who fought and died in the struggle he longed to avoid. 

The thing that got in the way of some people embracing Lincoln was their own ambition and pride. One man in his cabinet for four years, who served exceptionally well but who in the end had to be dismissed, was Salmon Chase, who, as Lincoln later put it, had “White House fever”. Lincoln had no such pride or fever. He honestly longed to serve and to be esteemed by his “fellow man.” 

My oh my, how we could use a Lincoln today. I am not referring to any one political leader. I am referring to all and to the general condition of our country, where pride, envy, and ambition rule the day, where there is no graciousness or forgiveness, and there seems to be malice toward all. Where malice is the tool used to fuel parties and people. 

Interestingly, Lincoln was not a traditional Christian. He believed in God, but attended church for Mary’s sake, and was like many of our founding fathers, a Deist, believing God created all things, like a watchmaker, and then stepped back to let it run. He would have been denounced by many on the Christian right. He would have been denounced, and was, by those on what we might call the left for not being radical enough and swift enough. As I read the book, I wondered if I would have supported Sewal, or Stewart, or Chase in the election. Who knows? Hindsight is wonderful, isn’t it?

And it is. In hindsight, we know that Lincoln was right. We also know, at least the brilliant historian Goodwin knows, and those who read her know, that Lincoln’s ability to forgive, show grace, to be kind, to love others, was what was needed, and more importantly, was who he was. He could do no other. 

That is what is troubling, among other things, to me. Those who lead, and those who follow and repeat their talking points and words, do they really believe what they say? Is this who they are, who we are? Can we not do other, and be other? 

God is calling all of us to be and do other than what our first inclination toward anger or malice might lead us to do. I don’t know what political leader might arise in the years ahead. Hopefully, there is a Lincoln out there. I don’t know. The question we might all want to ask ourselves is, is there a Lincoln in you? Like the young boy, shooting hoops on a church basket, imagining the winning shot, can we imagine ourselves great in kindness, compassion, and grace, like him? 

What do you think?