Obeying the Scout Law
But put forth thine
hand now,
and touch all that he
hath,
and he will curse thee
to thy face.
— Job
1:11
My sister and I were Camp Fire
Girls. About the coolest thing we had was the Wo-He-Lo deal. You slammed your
fist into your palm and then swirled two fingers up, like smoke, three times,
while singing the Wo-He-Lo song about work, health and love.
Lame. Totally.
Our brothers were Boy Scouts. Both
made it all the way to Eagles, in fact. We're convinced that Scouting helped
them excel in medicine and business, and to earn the kinds of merit badges you
can't sew on, like love and financial success and self-esteem.
In Scouting, they got to do all kinds of camping and
building and outdoorsy sports. We went to all our brothers' events and sat
through countless Courts of Honor as they rose through the ranks. We knew they
were supposed to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind,
obedient cheerful, thrifty, clean, brave and reverent. So when "boys will be
boys" at home, boy, would we remind them of how they were SUPPOSED to behave,
as good Scouts.
We knew the three-fingered salute
stood for honoring God, helping others and obeying the Scout Law. We even
memorized their oath:
On my honor
I will do my best
To do my duty to God
and my country
And to obey the Scout
Law:
To help other people
at all times;
To keep myself
physically strong,
Mentally awake,
And morally straight.
So, the other night, when a 135-mph
tornado slammed into the Little Sioux Scout Ranch in western Iowa a few miles
away from Omaha, and four boys were killed with 42 injured, I literally got
sick to my stomach.
It's a 1,800-acre wilderness camp,
ironically donated by a man whose wife used to work for my grandma at Mutual of
Omaha. That's a huge expanse of space, rare around here. But the maps of the
tornado's path show it practically took a bead on the very spot where the 94
boys and their 25 leaders were encamped, and mowed them all down like a buzz
saw.
Day-after photo taken
after the tornado devastated the Scout Camp.
(Photographer unknown)
In the storm's aftermath are lots of questions:
Why, God? Why wouldn't You put Your Hand in front of that
one spot where those boys were taking cover?
Why, God? Why would You allow those boys to be killed, when
people are trying to build them up so that they can mature enough to love and
trust You, too?
Why would You let that tornado skip
over the crack-dealers and baby-killers, and snatch away the young lives of
Godly Boy Scouts, who were sure to be part of the leadership team of tomorrow?
When death takes children, it's a real test of faith. If
yours is just the smiley-face, shallow kind, lacking roots deep enough to
withstand the storms of life, you may not ever understand God's design in a
disaster such as this.
But if you have the faith of a Job -
someone who pretty much lived by the Scout Law thousands of years ago - then
you can see the gold in the midst of the mud and debris and death.
I'm trying. It's hard. But as the
stories surface of the heroics of those Scouts before, during, and after, you
can see the Light of the World shining, even in that dark night:
- The teenager named Rob whose
hip was dislocated, but he ignored the pain to heave away rubble off
another boy to save his life.
- Jacob, 13, who used his bare
hands to hold a fellow Scout's scalp onto his head so he wouldn't bleed to
death.
- The one who did CPR to save
another kid's life.
- The one who thought to shut off
the propane tank.
- The one who had the presence of
mind NOT to describe the details of the carnage to a reporter, thinking of
the feelings of the families of those who perished.
- The fact that the Scouts had
just reviewed emergency first-aid treatment earlier that week, so they
were equipped to deal with rib fractures, broken bones, head and back
injuries, a punctured lung and deep cuts.
- The parents, leaders and boys
who found each other in that dark night and instantly fell into a prayer
huddle, thinking of those no longer standing.
- One of the four victims, who
was named Samuel, had been adopted. So his parents named him for the baby
Hannah had prayed for in the Bible. This Sam gave a sermon at his church
this past spring about being obedient to God in tough situations. The
sermon was called "wonderful" by his pastor for its insight and maturity.
Excerpts were printed in our newspaper. I couldn't believe how prophetic
it was: Sam talked about a tornado, and the episode in the Bible in which
the Biblical Samuel told his "boss," Eli, that he had a vision that his
wicked sons were going to perish, and Eli replied, "He is the Lord, let
him do what he wants." Sam ended his sermon, "But when the time comes,
say, 'Here am I, Lord, use me.'"
I think He did. I know He did.
He used these four deaths to remind
us that He is sovereign, but if you live by His laws, you'll be in the Court of
Honor on high. I know they're there. All of them.
He used the disaster to turn us to
each other, and to Him. As the old song goes, Trust and obey, for there's no other way.
He used the heroics of these young teenagers to remind us
how important it is to train up the next generation. Just imagine how many more
deaths there might have been, with some less-able group of young people out
there in harm's way that night.
There's no other way to comfort the families and friends of
the victims, other than to tell them how very, very proud we all are of the
example both parents and boys set for all of us -- of trying to rise above the
culture, practice good principles, and be the best person you can. They were on
their honor. They did their best. They obeyed the Scout law.
That's what God was trying to show us: you honor Him most
when you put others first, even above your own life.
Remember? There was another good Scout
Who did that for each of us, once . . . on the Cross. †
