Don't take Yes for an Answer

One of my inspirations is Leonardo da Vinci. Da Vinci ranks as one of the most curious and creative minds in history. Born on April 15, 1452, Leonardo dreamed of things never before imagined: a flying machine, a parachute, an extendable ladder, the bicycle, an adjustable monkey wrench, hydraulic jacks, a water-powered alarm clock, and for all of you concert lovers, the world’s first revolving stage. One biographer called him “the most curious man who ever lived.” But my favorite description of da Vinci? “He wouldn’t take yes for an answer..”

I love that approach to life. If you approach every person, every challenge, every situation with humble curiosity, it transforms them into learning opportunities. The outcome is no longer seen as success or failure, good or bad, positive or negative. The only measuring stick is this: what did you learn from it? Honestly, that mindset has helped me get through some difficult challenges. When I’m going through a tough time emotionally or relationally or spiritually, I figure I’m getting an education in those ares. When it gets really tough, I think of it as graduate work. Call it a Jedi mind trick. Call it a state of denial. All I know is this: that mindset has resulted in an experimental approach to life and ministry. I’m less afraid of failing, because I know it’s the best form of education. I’m less focused on getting out of situations and more focused on what I can get out of those situations. I’m less concerned with what I’m experiencing and more concerned with what I’m learning. Everyone and everything become part of my education. God redeems them and uses them to shape me into the person He wants me to become. And the learning process never ends.

God has created us with the capacity to keep learning until the day we die. And that isn’t something we should take for granted. The average brain is only the size of a softball and weighs approximately three pounds, yet neurologists estimate that we have the capacity to learn something new every second of every minute of every hour of every day for the next three hundred million years. Awesome, isn’t it? But it’s more than that. It’s also an awesome responsibility. Learning isn’t a luxury; it’s a stewardship issue.

It’s impossible to pinpoint what percentage of our minds we use, but there is untapped potential in all of us. Your imagination is capable of far more than you imagine, if I can say it that way. Yet somewhere along the way, most of us stop living out of imagination and start living out of memory. We stop creating the future and start repeating the past. And that is the day we stop living and start dying. Why? Because we stop learning.

The word disciple comes from a Greek root that means “learner.” By definition, a disciple is someone who never stops learning. A true disciple makes the most of the 100 billion brain cells God has put on loan to him. A true disciple loves more because she knows more. A true disciple is consumed with holy curiosity that doesn’t take yes for an answer. The disciple keeps seeking and asking and knocking. And the quest is never over because the questions never end.

Leonardo da Vinci carried a notebook with him wherever he went. It’s estimated by some that da Vinci left fourteen thousand pages of notes to Francesco Melzi in his will. Nearly seven thousand pages still exist, and in case you care, Bill Gates purchased eighteen pages for $30.8 million in 1994. Da Vinci’s napkin scribbles ranged from botany to anatomy to philosophy to painting. And one of the things that made them remarkable is the fact that most of them were written using a technique called mirror writing. He wrote in reverse so the text could be read only when reflected in a mirror. But here is what truly inspired me. In the final days leading up to his death on May 2, 1519, Leonardo apologized to God and to man “for leaving so much undone.” He had done so much, but he felt like there was so much left to do. He had learned so much, but he felt like there was so much more to learn. And he was determined to keep learning until the day he died. So even on his deathbed, Leonardo was observing and describing, in scientific detail, the nature and symptoms of his illness.

I know this sounds strange, but I want to die the same way. I don’t want to die from the same illness. But I do want to learn something new the day I die. Why? Because I can. And because I believe that learning glorifies God when it’s done for the right reasons. And that reason is to know more so that you can love more.

So go ahead and live as if you’ll die tomorrow. But keep learning as if you’ll live forever.

After all, you will.

Mark Batterson is the pastor of National Community Church in Washington DC. His new book, PRIMAL: A Quest for the Lost Soul of Christianity, comes out December 22nd. Check-out his blog at www.evotional.com.