Speaking in Paris in 1910, Teddy Rooselvelt said:

It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.

During my 25+ years at the denominational headquarters, I’ve seen lots of second-guessing when noble Kingdom ventures don’t work out. In particular, I’m thinking of people who leave a comfortable church to plant a new church, and the church never materializes despite their best efforts. And people who enter missionary service, perhaps relocating an entire family to a new country, but something goes awry and they have to return.

I admire risk-takers. Church planters are that way. I’ve seen many ministers leave a sure thing–a church that’s doing well, where they are liked, and where they have some visibility which provides opportunities for denominational leadership. In some cases, they might have been in line for an even more cushy, high-profile church. But instead, they venture out to start a brand new church…and for whatever reason, it never develops. I think of Dan, Bob, Brooks, Mark, Anthony, Lee, and various others. When the plug is finally pulled, there are always a variety of explanations. But you’ll usually hear in the mix, “I guess he just doesn’t have what it takes.” Maybe. But not necessarily.

Likewise with people who enter missionary service. I’ve seen people go overseas with great hope and vision, and for whatever reason, return before their hopes and visions can be realized. And, “I guess they just weren’t cut out for missionary service.” Maybe. But not necessarily.

And unfortunately, we tend not to give someone a second chance. We just conclude, “He doesn’t have it.” And sadly, too many of these people end up leaving the ministry, or at least leaving our denomination. They perhaps seek a fresh start somewhere far from the “failure” tag. If they do stay in our fellowship, we just never bring up their past failure…even though, in their eyes, it may have been their greatest-ever step of faith.

People like me–and I can’t pretend to have ever risked greatly–can too easily pass judgment from our secure positions of respect. We observe the situation and draw simplistic conclusions about why another person’s dream, that they poured prayer and sweat and endless hours into, went bust.

I believe it’s wrong, absolutely wrong, to focus on the “failure” angle. Even if the person was mismatched or unprepared for the role, I still see someone who risked. He tried something difficult and stretching and perhaps dangerous. In a society that worships comfort and convenience, I honor those people among us who, as Roosevelt said, “if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly.”