November 6

Be Like Astor, Not Allen

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death––even death on a cross!  ––Philippians 2:6-8

John Astor IV was the wealthiest passenger on the Titanic, and went down with the ship. After helping his young pregnant wife into lifeboat 4, he politely asked a crewman whether it would be possible for him to join his bride. The sailor told Astor that at that point, only women and children were boarding. He nodded in assent, kissed his wife, told her he’d see her soon, and quietly slipped back into the crowd on deck.

In contrast, it’s believed that Third Class passenger Edward Ryan donned women’s garments to sneak onto one of the lifeboats. He survived, and later allegedly boasted about his ruse in a letter to his parents.

Two men, two powerful “sliding door” moments.

We can sit here today and boo Edward Ryan, but unless we have been in a similar life-and-death situation, we don’t know how we would have acted. Like you, I hope I would have been like Astor. And it’s not like Astor couldn’t have tried to bribe his way onto one of the boats (which he didn’t). In fact, when his body was found a few days later, still almost perfectly preserved due to the cold North Atlantic waters, among his effects was a gold pocket watch, a diamond ring, gold and diamond cufflinks, 225 pounds in English notes, and $2,440.

What would you have paid for a seat on one of the precious few Titanic lifeboats? In the crucible of the moment, when it was known to the passengers that the ship was very likely sinking, John Astor made a decision. Use his wealth to skip the line, or choose to man up and do the right thing?

The best we can do to prepare for such a sliding door moment is consider all angles ahead of time. None of us knows when a tragedy or crisis might come, but we can prepare our head and our heart so that when it comes, we do the godly thing. And believe me, crisis will come. Probably not in the dramatic fashion that it did for Astor, but no less critical in that it might require a similar spur-of-the-moment decision on your part.

Character is a long-game proposition. It’s built on the millions of decisions a man makes across his 80 or so years bouncing around this blue marble called Earth. To walk in character means to sacrifice; it means giving up temporary pleasure for long-term gain; it might mean giving up much of what the world values for what God values. I want to go out like Astor—right actions that leave a legacy so that guys like you and me are talking about it more than 100 years later. That kind of legacy is more important than a seat on any lifeboat.

Lord, give me a “women and children first” mindset that honors You and helps me build a legacy of holiness in my family.