Brothers from Different Mothers

      Abraham Lincoln was, to my thinking, a great writer by any standard. His inspiration for the written and spoken word goes far beyond any of the wildest dreams I ever fancied for my own weary soul. I have thought, felt and done many beautiful things, but never with this man's grace, grit ,eloquence or vision. The better angels of our nature line is a classic, but read the entire quote from his first inaugural address to a deeply divided America."Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."
      Shakespeare would applaud. Whenever I write about or think of Lincoln's voice, I feel like the awkward kid at the school dance. It just feels wrong to somehow  think of he and I as sharing the same language or the same heritage as Americans.  The same as I do with Ben Franklin. The "brothers from different mothers" line always get a laugh, but it seems appropriate to make this type of comparison here. How are we like these guys?                                                                  

                                                                               

                                                                                                                                                   
    I can clearly see how we are different.  But I am unable to plum the depths of honor and sacrifice that allowed this fully free individual to sacrifice all he is or hopes to be for an idea. Even if that idea is as beautiful and sacred as the sacrifice itself.  And that is where I am humbled as I am cast in the shadow of this great man. The entire " same, but different' credo that I hold so near and dear falls short in explaining this chasm. Can it be explained as simply the great compared to the mediocre? Or is there more to the story?
    I wrote last week that it isn't healthy for humans to see themselves as consumers or as commodities. That the soul and the marketplace can make for bad business partners. There needs to be a lifeline from this folly of, in my mind, great consequence. And that Benjamin Franklin and his middle class work ethic could be the tonic, or example we could all use when placing ourselves in any marketplace. I still see this as good and true for me and the culture where I live and breathe as an American of whatever consequence.
   But Lincoln, although not as gifted as Franklin in the "Renaissance Man" sense of thinking,  may have even a greater impact on our lives than Franklin ever could if we so chose to feel this truth.
   Lincoln was more of the 'Greek Tragedy' archetype. Our Best Angel rose within reach of Heaven, then cruelly tore asunder by the Hubris and Arrogance of his Fellow Man. This dynamic tears viscerally at our hearts. We know it's truth within others as well as ourselves. Truly,we are no longer in our Father's Garden. The power of humility in whatever dose would be welcome for us all. But the power of  altruism on such a scale is beyond our comfort zone. It is in our face. And that is good.
       Whereas Franklin and his many personas is merely instructive. Lincoln's life was the shadow of the greatest sacrifice ever known. His Christlike shadow looms large among us. As would be the empty chair of our best friend who has departed without saying goodbye.We need both of these examples in this Republic, but without the kinetic energy created within the tragedy of Lincoln's life and death, we may never be able to implement that which Franklin exemplified. God and everyone in the neighborhood knows we are again at each others throats over who is the better American. What a rotten and terrible thing to say about anyone. Talk about hubris and arrogance?  So let's start an new argument.