We have a yearning inside for greatness.
As kids we were always pretending to take the game winning shot, catch the Super Bowl winning touchdown, or win the Gold Medal. It’s not something people had to instruct us on, our longing for significance was and is simply innate.
And it goes well beyond sports. Think for a moment about what you wanted to be when you grew up (I’d imagine it wasn’t middle management, although many of us now find ourselves there rather contentedly so). It was something like astronaut, president, sheriff, or tyrannosaurus rex. Something grandiose and spectacular. And this naiveté continued through adolescence when we entered countless scenarios overly confident and underly qualified. It is only in maturity that we began to grasp our lack of understanding and capability.
On the subject of greatness or significance though, have you ever considered the process? For instance you don’t wake up one morning in the NBA Finals or the White House. There is a long road filled with both faithfulness and risk. A diligent pattern of behavior complimented by calculated although perilous leaps.
In Luke 19, Jesus tells a parable about a rich man set to rule who goes away, but gives his servants money for while he is gone. We’ll pick up the story there:
“When he came back bringing the authorization of his rule, he called those ten servants to whom he had given the money to find out how they had done.
The first said, ‘Master, I doubled your money.’
He said, ‘Good servant! Great work! Because you’ve been trustworthy in this small job, I’m making you governor of ten towns.’”
“The next servant said, ‘Master, here’s your money safe and sound. I kept it hidden in the cellar. To tell you the truth, I was a little afraid. I know you have high standards and hate sloppiness, and don’t suffer fools gladly.’
He said, ‘You’re right that I don’t suffer fools gladly—and you’ve acted the fool! Why didn’t you at least invest the money in securities so I would have gotten a little interest on it?’
Then he said to those standing there, ‘Take the money from him and give it to the servant who doubled my stake.’”
The message I take away from this parable is two-part: 1. We have all been given something and an accounting will ultimately be made, and 2. God does not want us to live free of risk, but to risk / invest wisely. And I don’t think this principle is merely about money, but time, energy, and love. To commit our lives to noble pursuits, not just base needs. And as evidenced by the robbing of the latter servant, not to be a spectator in life, idly watching and judging as others submit themselves to the challenges that come with the pursuit of significant living.
I am called back again to Theodore Roosevelt’s ‘Citizenship in a Republic’ Speech which featured the famous Man in the Arena:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
For faithfulness without risk is luke-warm living. It certainly isn’t bad, but it will ultimately leave you wanting and unfulfilled. Truly living takes place when we are willing to apply our faithfulness and boldly step forward into what comes next albeit unknown. For it was the faithful servant who was willing to take a risk that ultimately became a governor.