There’s an Advent-related scripture that says, “The rich He has sent empty away.” Luke 1:53 And another Scripture that “God opposes the proud that gives grace to the humble.” James 4:6 This week I read something from SEAL 06 Brad Geary who at Navy CO School in Newport, RI, learned insights about hubris syndrome from a Leadership article in The Atlantic.

The reality for us today is that as we get closer to the top, as leaders, we have fewer people calling us by first name.
So, I want to ask you, who gets to call you by first name?

Who, besides your parents, or spouse, can tell you that you are “jacked up.” And say, “I love you, but you’re on the wrong track.” Who can call you by your name when you get off course & l start to crack with your True North?

Now, you may not think you need it, because you’ve got two stars & an anchor. You may not think you need it because you’ve got an Eagle, what I’ve heard XO say with self-deprecation, “the big chicken.”

The tough fact is that we all need somebody like that. Leaders, with their burden of Command, even more.

And so, there’s a man I want to mention. He contracted something like Polio at 39, became paralyzed from the waist down. He was Harvard and Columbia trained. But his daddy was a railroad man. He was a Dutch dude. His name was FDR. He kickstarted America in the depression with the New Deal. He was respected by the Blue Collar man as principled. His wife was an orphan.

Some of us in here who occasionally “drink to the foam, might celebrate that he ended prohibition.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt served four terms. He died in office, April 1945. The grieved nation mourned.. I heard an Iwo Jim machine flame throwing Marine once tell with reverence, that his family, once they would hear FDR’s voice crackle on over the radio—his daddy a WW1 veteran had them stand up as the President United States was speaking.

But, even with all that gravity, I think that it’s interesting that Brad Geary noticed that FDR had somebody who would call him “Franklin”, an advisor who intentionally would never stop calling him Franklin. First Name, if I think about Jesus Christ at the Tomb, a spring Sunday @ 28 CE and Mary who’d come after the sabbath with more burial spices in arms. She thought Christ was a gardener and she asks mournfully, where have you put Him?
The Lord goes “first name” on her, “Mary” & boom. She’s taken aback, the Gardener knows her. It dawns. It’s her Savior, Rabboni, she says, Teacher and falls to her knees. When we’re known. We again know ourselves.

When we have our name spoken to us, something tectonic in our soul changes. I think it happens with our subordinates. I know good order directs us to address Sailors’s by Rate & Last Name—but there’s times when they lose a parent, life’s heavy blows roll, where we adjust, and I know you all likely have done this. I’ve had it happen to me with my commanders. They’ve said, “Chaps—Kristian” or us to our Sailor, HM2 Smith—John…I’m so sorry, your Dad has died, but we are here, you’re family. We’ve got you. And that name, that empathy, tender connection—things just shift.

So, let’s not be proud to think we don’t need help. Because I know—and this is just my confession, I need a whole lot of help. And a lot of times it starts with my wife (she knows my name) and it also starts with, of course, the Lord. In Him, we are always known. Found I would say.

Blessings to each of you this Holy Season. And may God’s grace fill us as we live humbly with the dangers of pride trailing & vanishing behind us as we full steam to the most adventurous, & others’ serving, Way Points.

About the Author:

Kit Carlson has served alongside Marines, Sailors, Soldiers & Special Forces, and has completed three deployments. In 2020, the Navy assigned him to Duke University’s Divinity School to earn a specialized Master’s Degree, ThM, in Pastoral Care, where he focused his studies on challenges to Active Duty personnel, Veterans and their families. His specific areas of interest include care for persons with Complex Trauma, strategies for healing from PTSD, Moral Injury, & mild TBI. A key personal mission of his is to leverage the strengths of faith-based Veteran Service Organizations as strategic partners to chaplains, the VA, and the DoD in their ongoing resiliency & suicide prevention initiatives. He is married to his Chilean sweetheart, Damaris. They have two young children, who are the delight of their hearts.