More Than a Whisper
I recently read the Sermon on the Mount in which Jesus proclaimed the traits He most values. My reading occurred shortly after a speech by President Trump where the vitriolic tone pained me just as much as the words. So when I reached the phrase, “blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth,” the word “meek” jumped out at me. When, if ever, have Americans valued meekness?
Of course, Jesus didn’t speak English, so “meekness” is not the word He used in ancient Israel. Instead, Matthew recorded the Greek word, “πραΰς.” Strong’s Concordance offers this translation:
“This difficult-to-translate root (pra-) means more than "meek." Biblical meekness is not weakness but rather refers to exercising God's strength under His control – i.e. demonstrating power without undue harshness.”
The concept of demonstrating power without harshness is a different definition than the words we often pair with meekness: weak, mild, or mouse-like. The description of controlled strength and power made me think of Teddy Roosevelt’s quip on foreign policy: “speak softly and carry a big stick.” Ironically, Teddy Roosevelt wasn’t often known for his quiet nature, though America has often been a nation of contradiction. Inversely, Silent Cal Coolidge was known for his quiet nature, but he is also known as a terribly ineffective president.
It may be that you need to revisit George Washington to find a president who embodied meekness. Consider the lyrics from Hamilton, when Lin-Manuel Miranda concludes Washington’s presidency with the following song:
Washington:
“The people will hear from me
One last time
And if we get this right
We're gonna teach 'em how to say
Goodbye
You and I.”
Hamilton:
“Mister President, they will say you're weak.”
Washington:
“No, they will see we're strong.”
Washington explains the importance of keeping eyes fixed on what a person leaves behind and how critical the mindset is for a self-governing nation to be more than one person as its singular power. Washington was unique in that he could have been king—a military ruler with the affection of his people could shape his power as he pleased. Instead, he longed to fulfill the Old Testament verse he so often quoted by sitting under his own vine and fig tree, free from fear.
His fellow Americans saw Washington as the modern Cincinnatus, Rome’s famous military leader who walked away from his dictatorial power to return home and farm. The early U.S. citizens were aware of Washington’s unmitigated power and in turn followed his example—until Franklin Roosevelt—of retiring from the presidency’s power at the end of two terms. This strikes me as the very model of meekness—ultimate power with restraint.
Flash forward 243 years, and the United States has transformed from a young, scrappy colony to the premier world power both economically and militarily. There is no need to say it or to remind the world who has the nuclear codes. The totality of American power is ingrained on the world’s collective hearts and minds. But instead of meekness—complete power under control—there is no speaking softly. Instead, the stick of the United States is being swung in the most haphazard manner. This approach prompts the question, if the meek inherit the earth, what do the blustery and pompous inherit?
Unfortunately, history is not kind to those who constantly blather and fight. Those who look for a fight inevitably find it. Hamilton longed to attack Jefferson, yet Washington—for the sake of peace over partisanship—encouraged restraint. Hamilton’s power was similarly great to Washington’s, but the power of meekness and restraint did not accompany his boundless talents. And the result was fatal.
The most common list of presidential comparisons to President Trump include John Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson, John Tyler, Millard Fillmore, Andrew Johnson, and Warren G. Harding with a dose of Richard Nixon for good measure. Most of these presidents appear on the worst-presidents list, but history is a difficult arbiter to predict. Harry Truman had historically low approval ratings when he chose not to run for re-election. Yet he has had steadily climbed the ranks since his death. He’s not the only leader who suffered from crater-level popularity in office only to recover with the prescriptive lenses of time. Yet America’s most respected presidents are more likely to bear the traits of Washington’s meekness rather than President Trump’s belligerency.
The most recent presidential ranking by the Siena College Research Institute listed its top leaders as George Washington, Franklin Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, Theodore Roosevelt, and Thomas Jefferson. While there are distinct traits with each president, antagonistic and bullying are not the first attributes that come to mind. As it relates to the Sermon on the Mount, the concept Jesus presented on the meek inheriting the earth was an eternal reward as opposed to one for today. Despite this reality, Americans have historically valued the traits in the sermon as desirable: merciful, pure in heart, and peacemaking. Meekness may not be on the shortlist of favorite attributes, but its full definition of strength under control seems like one worth valuing.
This historical look at the presidency prompts one more notation that relates to meekness. When I was in college, I answered a test question on the presidency in which we analyzed a president we thought was underrated and a president we thought was overrated. I criticized President Eisenhower for not doing more with his great popularity and subsequent power. But as I have grown older and read more about the horrors of WWII, the scars the nation bore, and the peacemaking nature that Eisenhower practiced, I look back with regret at the foolishness of my answer. Eisenhower was practicing meekness in his presidency.
Instead of forcing his way toward every objective and whim, he nurtured a time of healing and reconciliation for the country. Like George Washington, Eisenhower’s legacy as a conquering general afforded him great power as president. No one would have claimed he held anything but power. And with it, he practiced restraint to move forward with deliberation and control—meekness in the full sense of the word.
Over the past two years, President Trump has produced a voluminous number of personal and professional attacks. While I may be the odd individual who quibbles over the definition of “meekness,” there is no credible denial in labeling our president’s language as mean-spirited and harsh. Some might maintain that his attacks are justified, but President Trump’s language is regularly power with harshness instead of without—the opposite of meekness.
While I don’t think anyone expects a modern-day Washington or Eisenhower to occupy the White House, I believe people desire it. Though we might say we want such statesmanship in our leaders, it takes more than just aimless wishing to make it happen. Though it might be easy for me to pontificate on the need for a country-wide adoption of meekness as a national value, we can start just by treating our votes with meekness. For our votes are a significant power that we too often treat with a haphazard manner.
I have long valued the story of Benjamin Franklin’s response when a Philadelphian asked him whether the Constitutional Convention had given the people a republic or a monarchy. Franklin’s quick reply warned, “A republic, if you can keep it.” Self-governance is still a rarity that we should not overlook its fragility. In the movie Gladiator, Marcus Aurelius explained the virtues of a republic as follows: “There was once a dream that was Rome. You could only whisper it. Anything more than a whisper and it would vanish; it was so fragile.” While our republic may not have the fragility of Rome’s republic, we should still treat it just as delicately. That means taking the time to know your candidate at the local, state, and national level. Take the time to understand their virtues and their weaknesses. As with all people, no president functions without shortcomings, but history suggests that rulers with virtue are more likely to be the leaders of wisdom that warrant respect.
Back in the 1700s, when the United States was still more conceptual than concrete, Alexander Hamilton could rightly look back at Rome’s history and predicted that Washington’s departure would cause the country to vanish. He could see the see the leadership vacuum that might exist without George Washington. Yet Washington knew that declaring his continuation as president would be “more than a whisper” that could crumble what the Founders had built. He knew this was not weakness but strength. And we should in turn seek leaders who know the value of a whisper rather than the destructive echoes of a shout.
