Why Norwegians Are Tough…

Again I find myself several months in the future since my last blog post and mentally reviewing all the procrastination and excuses that barred me from buckling down and clicking the publish button.  Well there are no exciting episodes of denial and delay to tell of so, I’ll just gloss over those reasons and move on to something of notable mention.

I realize that I have not been consistent with fleshing out my mission to explore the virtues of living well by understanding the framework of a good story so I will attempt to write towards this end.  What makes a man someone worth his manhood?  This is definitely the question (in all its various permutations) that is always on the burner mostly because I am in the season of life where that is essentially what I’m carving out of my days is how to be the man I want.  I am a particular sucker for all sorts of manly advertising such as memorable super bowl commercials that tell me to buy soap and be a man ( I bought the soap and felt, if not more manly, then definitely better smelling than my pre-shower self).  But anyhoo, all the books, blogs, movies, music, etc that I consume in some form or another gets put through the manhood grinder.  Even with a recent visit back to my alma mater FSU to visit some slovenly scum bags I used to call roommates, we celebrated my return by playing none other but The Most Dangerous Game, where essentially we hunted each other in the woods with paintball guns.  Yet another desperate grasp at claiming our primal nature.  To be honest, there is a lot of conflicting opinions on manliness, but I think I did arrive at an authoritative model of what it means to be a man: BE NORWEIGAN. Now, being French myself, I was, like you, pretty skeptical of how our Scandinavian brothers could have such a monopoly of all things man.  But upon reading the latest issue of Outside magazine (dubbed The Adventure Issue), I happened upon an interesting sidebar about famous adventuring Norwegians and I was duly impressed by the many amazing feats performed by the likes of Roald Amundsen, Thor Heyerdahl, Borge Ousland, and more.  (I cannot go into detail about these awesome acts of derring-do so do yourself a favor and look it up).  But the singular most telling man factor was this little tidbit:

“Legend has it that the Irish served the invading Vikings rotten cod fish dyed in lye in order to debilitate them.  The Vikings declared the lutefisk a delicacy, and now serve it at nearly every holiday gathering” (Outside Mag, April 2010)

I don’t know anything about copyright laws and/or proper MLA citation anymore having been out of college for almost a year now, but maybe an infringement controversy will help boost my readership, but I digress.

If taking your enemies putrefied attempt at sabotage and declaring it a delicious delicacy isn’t a quality that all men should aspire to then I don’t know what is.  I was just about to look into the process to apply for a Norwegian passport, when a most astonishing revelation came.  Yesterday and today I was lucky enough to see Francis Chan speak here at a local church.  Without spilling the beans about the whole sermon, I’ll cut to the chase.  Imagine being before God after you’ve died and having his first words to you be, “Well done.” Whoa.  What kind of life would that take?  Basically it would mean investing all that God has given me into furthering his kingdom but in order to do that I would need to cultivate the kind of heart and mind that would be good soil in which to grow the fruit of a life well lived.  So what I see is all kinds of attempts at manhood which essentially try to outdo the next guy to earn a spot at the top of the hill.  When it comes down to it, sacrificing towards a competitive end isn’t all that hard and many men take great satisfaction in that kind of goal.  The real challenge is in kind of sacrificial life that yields rewards that can’t be given out by a panel of judges, your peers, or the record books: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, and self-control.  This work is that of a diligent farmer who tends to his crops persistently and with perseverance with the hopes that when the time is right, his harvest will sustain himself, his family, and a blessed multitude of others.

Maybe after the many long and hot days of toil he will stop to rest and hear that whisper that he longs for from a place deeper than he can describe, “Well done my good and faithful servant.”  And isn’t that a better picture of manhood?  the grizzled farmer in dirt caked overalls, deeply tanned with a wise and knowing smile?  Well anyways, that’s a man whose story I would listen to…