Politics aside, each of us needs to have a “little John McCain” inside us, that maverick quality that refuses to go along with something just because everyone else is doing it, that looks for what may have been overlooked when consensus arrived too swiftly, that speaks up when others around are too timid or intimidated to express themselves.

Senator Ted Kennedy used this line at the funeral of his brother Bobby in 1968, and consequently, everyone thinks Bobby said it, but it’s a line from a George Bernard Shaw play: “Some see things as they are and ask why; I see things that never were and ask ‘why not?'”

That’s a maverick, one who sees what isn’t there but ought to be.

Nurture the maverick in your church. Every leader needs several–but at least one–in his group of closest advisors who can put the brakes on his enthusiasm, who can ask the hard questions, and who refuses to go along with the easy answers.

Mavericks put grey hairs in the heads of leaders. There are times when we want the earth to open up and swallow them and give us some peace, but those moments of despair pass and we realize how desperately we need them.

They keep us honest and make us stronger.

A maverick is what Kenneth Lay needed at Enron and did not have until it was too late.

A maverick is what Jim Bakker needed at PTL and for want of one, lost his entire ministry.

A maverick is what Billy Graham’s ministry had in the persons of men like Grady Wilson, Cliff Barrows, T. W. Wilson, and George Beverly Shea. I heard the great evangelist say once that the team was heading down a highway when they passed a farmer in his field plowing a mule. One of the men said, “Billy, except for the grace of God, that’s you in that field.” Mr. Graham agreed.

Mavericks refuse to let their friends get too impressed with themselves, but keep them earthbound.

Mavericks are square pegs in a world of round holes. When everyone else says “yes,” a maverick says, “Could I raise a question here?”

Dictators hate mavericks, but democracies need them.

The devil hates them; the church requires them.

Thomas was a maverick. Just because the other disciples reported they had seen the risen Christ did not work for him. “Except I see him myself and put my hands in those wounds, I will not believe.”

Mavericks take a little more evidence and require a little more convincing than most of us.

The good news is when a maverick is convinced you have yourself a formidable ally.

Thomas saw Jesus for himself one week after the other disciples. It’s interesting that Jesus did not rebuke him for his delay in believing or his refusal to accept second-hand testimony. “Reach hither your hands into my side,” Jesus said, and holding out his hands, he said, “and behold my scars.”

Thomas dropped to his knees before the risen Christ and uttered a confession which would have had him arrested for blasphemy anywhere else. “My Lord and my God.”

There is a maverickness inside each of us which we keep squelching. It’s uncomfortable, it makes others uncomfortable, and it slows down the works.

“I sought for a man among them,” God said once, “someone who would stand in the gap and make up the hedge.” Alas, he found none. Consequently, the nation was in ruins and the enemy was having a field day at the expense of the Lord’s people.

“You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world,” Jesus told His people.

We are to be different, to make a difference. We are not to go along and blend in, but to live out the uniqueness God gave us in Christ.

“Why are we doing this?” “Why not give it a try?” “Is there a better way?” “What does the Lord think of this?”

What a maverick does best is ask questions.