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KUDOS FOR THE KAISER

“I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right.” Have you ever had to say those seven embarrassing words?

I’m sure we’ve all had our turn. There have been times when someone quietly slipped me a note which said, “Lonnie, I know you didn’t mean it . . . but you just crunched down pretty hard on Sister X’s toe. Because of” – and here they give me the detail, the inside knowledge, the private hurt I hadn’t known about – “such-and-such, you might want to fix that up. You know, apologize?”

And I do! I have to either get them on the phone, or write a little note, or e-mail, or whatever. It’s something we’ve all been through, and bit by bit, we hopefully learn what the Bible says in Proverbs 15 about “a soft answer” turning away wrath.

There’s a great story in the old, cobweb-covered book, How to Win Friends and Influence People, and in a moment here, we’ll find out that, who knows, this book is so classic that maybe Gideon had a copy of it in his military backpack. But way back in 1909, Germany’s leader was Wilhelm II. And Dale Carnegie describes him:

“Wilhelm, the haughty; Wilhelm, the arrogant; Wilhelm, the last of the German Kaisers, building an army and navy which he boasted would whip their weight in wildcats.”

Unfortunately – and this is before there were political spin doctors on TV – he cut loose one day with a string of prideful statements that rocked the entire continent of Europe. He was the only German, he declared, “who felt friendly toward the English.” He was building a navy which could wipe out Japan. He, and he alone, had bailed out England from being “humbled in the dust” by Russia and France. He – Wilhelm the Magnificent – had come up with the plan, the campaign, which “enabled England’s Lord Roberts to defeat the Boers in South Africa.” And it went on like that for quite a little while. “Aren’t I great?” And when reporters asked, “Your Majesty, uh, is this all on the record?” he waved his arms. “Sure! Jawohl! Print it!” The next day, there it all was in black-and-white in the London Daily Telegraph.

And all of Europe just about blew up. England was livid, of course. Germany was embarrassed and scandalized. Then, to make matters worse, the red-faced king, in a state of panic, called in his trusty Imperial Chancellor, Prince von Bulow, and suggested that he take the blame. Today we’d call it “walking the plank” or throwing yourself on your own sword. “Tell them it was all your responsibility,” he suggested, “that you advised me to say all of that.”

And the chancellor wouldn’t have any of it.

“‘But Your Majesty,’ von Bulow protested, ‘it seems to me utterly impossible that anybody either in Germany or England could suppose ME capable of having advised Your Majesty to say any such thing.’”

Well, a terrible stillness just hung there in the air. After taking about ten seconds to digest the import of that remark – and of course, von Bulow realized immediately that he’d blown it – the king began shrieking at him.

“You consider me a donkey capable of blunders you yourself could never have committed!”

And I suppose a sitcom writer today, where irreverence is the norm, would have von Bulow come right back. “Yeah . . . and what’s your point?” But the chancellor regrouped brilliantly. And as Carnegie always says: “Praise before you condemn. And if it’s too late for that, then do the next best thing: praise AFTER you’ve criticized.” Anyway, here is von Bulow’s little make-up speech, word for word:

“‘I’m far from suggesting that,’ he answered respectfully. ‘Your Majesty surpasses me in many respects; not only, of course, in naval and military knowledge, but, above all, in natural science. I have often listened in admiration when Your Majesty explained the barometer, or wireless telegraphy, or the Röntgen rays. I am shamefully ignorant of all branches of natural science, have no notion of chemistry or physics, and am quite incapable of explaining the simplest of natural phenomena. But,’ von Bulow continued, ‘in compensation, I possess some historical knowledge and perhaps certain qualities useful in politics, especially in diplomacy.’”

And this very human monarch began to smile broadly, then to positively beam. The great von Bulow has praised him! As Carnegie puts it: “The Kaiser could forgive ANYTHING after that.”

“‘Haven’t I always told you,’ he exclaimed with enthusiasm, ‘that we complete one another famously? We should stick together, and we will!’”

All of a sudden, he was so happy that he shook von Bulow’s hand, “not once, but several times.” And later that day he was still so excited, still on cloud nine, that he said to one and all who would listen:

“If anyone says anything to me against Prince von Bulow, Ich will Ihm in der Nassa schlagen! (I shall punch him in the nose!)”

Well, friend, next time you’re in a contentious church board meeting, bear that anecdote in mind. But it’s interesting, back here in the blood and the bayonets of Judges chapter eight, that in the midst of the real fighting, a skirmish of egos comes along.

Remember that Gideon’s surprise attack with just 300 men had been a complete success. Not only did the Midianite forces begin slaughtering each other, but the fight turned into a rout. The enemy troops began sprinting south toward the Jordan River, only to meet up with energized Israelite forces that joined the battle. And one tribe Gideon called up on his cell phone was that of Ephraim. This is back at the end of chapter seven, but he implores them:

“Come down against the Midianites and seize the waters of the Jordan ahead of them as far as Beth Barah.”

Well, they do, and it’s a rip-roaring success. In fact, they capture and kill two of the enemy’s top generals. But even in the flush of victory, the warriors from the tribe of Ephraim – speaking of noses – have theirs all out of joint.

“‘Why have you treated us like this?’” they pouted. “‘Why didn’t you call us when you went to fight Midian?’” And the Bible adds: “And they criticized him sharply.”

The Message paraphrase has them grumbling, all in a snit: “‘Why did you leave us out?’ They were indignant and let him know it.” It’s interesting that just four chapters later, in Judges 12, the same tribe of Ephraim begins ragging on a general named Jephthah with the same complaint. “Why don’t you call us when you’re going out to war? We’re the Rodney Dangerfields of all Israel – we don’t get no respect!”

But Gideon, being a graduate, as he apparently was, from the Dale Carnegie School of Diplomacy, has a gracious answer for these petulant patriots:

“What have I accomplished compared to you? Aren’t the gleaning of Ephraim’s grapes better than the full grape harvest of Abiezer? God gave Oreb and Zeeb, the Midianite leaders, into YOUR hand. What was I able to do compared to you?” And the Bible adds a P.S. “At this, their resentment against him subsided.” “They calmed down and cooled off” says the Message rendition.

Isn’t that a great story? And we find this same eternal truth taught by Jesus Himself in the Gospels. He once told His 12 closest disciples, who probably had a right to brag a bit, considering their “access” to the Messiah:

“If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.”

“In honor preferring one another” is the nice King James way the apostle Paul puts it in Romans 12:10.

What makes this such a hard lesson to learn? Why do we so often take the “Kaiser Wilhelm” approach, boasting of our own deeds, and being resentful if anyone else gets credit? Well, certainly in this great old saga found in the book of Judges, success was always linked to a man’s understanding that the battle was the Lord’s. God was in charge; the tough calls were His. And so the credit went to Him as well.

Here in chapter eight, we could concede that Gideon bowed down lower than he needed to. He played the “von Bulow humility role” to perfection, highlighting and even exaggerating the contributions of the Ephraimites. In terms of pure headlines and glory, Gideon was the commander. He had set up the entire campaign – with God’s help, of course. The midnight battle cry had his name in it: “For the Lord and for Gideon!” But as this man of God sensed that he was simply a vessel in God’s hands, that enabled him to graciously step aside when the TV cameras showed up on the banks of the Jordan and Dan Rather was getting interviews.

John the Baptist had the same heroic attitude, didn’t he? The moment Jesus came to this same Jordan River, this man who had drawn the big crowds, whose name was on the lips of all, quietly and quickly stepped aside. “He must increase; I must decrease,” he immediately stated.

It seems like, on the banks of the Jordan and also at the river’s edge of our own ambitions, friend, that confession is the formula for victory.