“For he who is least among you all – he is the greatest.”  – Luke 9:48 

A client of mine from years ago had just been hired as the top leader of a large organization.  In one of his first acts he called a meeting of the other senior executives who would serve as his direct reports.  It was late afternoon, so when he arrived at the meeting room he found a custodian hustling to finish cleaning up the room which had been used for other purposes that day.  My client noticed and began to pitch in by helping empty wastebaskets.  He thought nothing of it until he overheard some ridicule about someone in his high-level position stooping to do such menial work as picking up trash.

Moments later after the custodian had left, my client (and friend) looked around this room full of big shots, then opened the meeting with this message: “You and I cannot do our jobs effectively without the help of those who endeavor to keep our rooms and offices clean.  They help us immensely in doing our jobs.  The least we can do is help them in doing theirs.”

Not to diminish the importance of the work of those high-level executives gathered in that meeting that day, for such groups – the big thinkers – are depended upon to provide the visions, directions, and strategies that will impact the success and future of organizations.  Yet, equally important, or perhaps even more so, is the role of the menial and mundane, as author Wendell Berry points out in an essay written many years ago titled Think Little.  In it he offers the example of “a couple who make a good marriage, and raise healthy, morally competent children.  [They] are serving the world’s future more directly and surely than any political [or organizational] leader.  “Though,” he adds, “they never utter a public word.”

I wonder if that is what Jesus is trying to point out when he says, “For he who is least among you all – he is the greatest.”  Like my friend walking into that room.  While some viewed the task of emptying trash as menial, he recognized it as vital work to the organization.  We have a great society and a strong economy because we’ve all been encouraged to Think Big.  But as Wendell Berry points out in his essay, it is also essential that we Think Little – for while the big thinkers are debating their big ideas, it is often the least among us, and the least noticed among us, who turn out to be the greatest.

“Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret.”   –  Matthew 6:3 

Almost immediately after reading Allen Levi’s best-seller Theo of Golden I found myself reading it a second time, a first for me I think to ever re-read a novel I had just finished reading, perhaps because it is one of the most uplifting stories I have read in years.  You may have read it as well.  If not, I highly recommend it, it will lift your spirits.

So not to spoil the story for those who have not read it, this is how the book cover summarizes it: “Theo visits the local coffeehouse, where ninety-two pencil portraits hang on the walls, portraits of the people of Golden [a fictitious town in Georgia and setting of the story] done by a local artist.  He begins purchasing them, one at a time, and putting them back in the hands of their ‘rightful owners.’  With each exchange, a story is told, a friendship born, and a life altered.”

What inspired me about it – thus my reason for reading it again – is how Theo, the main character, was able to draw out the best in people through his simple acts of kindness, encouragement, and generosity.  Mother Teresa once said, “Not all of us can do great things.  But we can do small things with great love,” which is exactly how Theo operated.

In a conversation with a newspaper reporter about midway through the book Theo describes his mission and purpose by quoting from William Wordsworth.  “He once wrote that the best portion of a good person’s life is ‘the little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.’. . . I think it has never been our nature to think that way,” Theo explains, “but especially now, we like ‘big’ and ‘viral’ and all that.  But I think Mr. Wordsworth was right.”

Jesus would concur, “Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret,” He said.  That was also Theo’s style, the result being that with each encounter “a story is told, a friendship born, and a life altered.”  Yet, what really intrigued me about Theo of Golden is that Theo did not do anything we are not all capable of doing, in one way or another.  Besides being one of the most uplifting books I’ve read in years, I think it was that inspiration that drew me into reading it again.

“Be joyful in hope . . .”  – Romans 12:12 

People with joy, I have determined, are without exception people with hope.  The two characteristics simply go hand in hand.  A great example was Jim, a man to whom I had been introduced back in the summer of 2005 as a potential buyer of his business.  Actually, it was his wife Mimi who had founded the business and built it into the well-respected successful enterprise it had once been, until ill health took its toll and the business began to fail.  The responsibility fell on Jim to try to salvage it, but with limited experience and resources it seemed the only hope was to find someone who could acquire the few remaining assets and take over the operation, that prospective someone being me.

For weeks Jim and I worked side by side, often long hours at a time, simply trying to keep the doors open long enough so I could perform proper due diligence.  Jim kept up the sales efforts while both of us negotiated with clients, vendors, creditors, and sales representatives.  It was a tense time, but especially for Jim and Mimi who were on the verge of losing everything.  Yet, throughout it all Jim remained cheerful and hopeful.

Jim and I developed a great friendship during that time.  I found myself desperately wanting it all to work out so he and Mimi might salvage their financial lives.  At the same time Jim was equally concerned that it be a good investment for me.  In the end, however, it simply didn’t work out and the transaction fell through.  My heart broke for Jim and Mimi as we went our separate ways.  Yet even in those darkest of times – a sick wife, failed business, and personal bankruptcy – Jim wasted no time on self-pity and continued to maintain his sense of joy and hope.  Not long afterwards we lost touch. . . .

. . . . . until one cold winter day several months later when my phone rang.  It was Jim  calling to check in, staying in touch.  Here was a man in his mid-sixties who had lost everything, now living with relatives because he and Mimi could no longer afford a place of their own, trying to pick up the pieces and start all over, yet in his voice was that ever-present joyful hope.  “Be joyful in hope,” the Apostle Paul encouraged us all, and to that Jim had been a powerful witness.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good . . .” – Romans 8:28 

A young, ambitious banker who had recently been promoted to vice-president approached his boss, the president of the bank, and asked, “What, sir, must I do to become a successful banker like you?”  “Don’t make mistakes,” his mentor fired back.  The young man paused, scratching his head.  “Then how, sir, do I learn to not make mistakes?” he asked wanting to know more.  “By making mistakes,” said the elder statesman, grinning to himself as he whirled around and headed back to his office.

Learning the hard way, there is no form of instruction quite like it.  And we have all received it in one form or another, perhaps still do from time to time.  I recall going through a season in my own life early on when I was trying to start a career.  Seems I couldn’t do anything right back then, clumsily saying the wrong things, or not knowing what to say at all, making stupid mistakes and bad decisions.  The more I bungled the more my self-confidence slipped, and the more my self-confidence slipped the worse I bungled.  Though I tried to disguise it outwardly, inwardly I felt like I was in a downward spiral.  Would I ever make anything of myself, I began to doubt?

The fact that I did not quickly snap out of it as I hoped made it feel like the slump lasted longer than it actually did.  Instead, it was a slow gradual climb as I seemed to bungle less often, my self-confidence slowly rising instead of slipping.  At first after my career began to gain some traction I found myself embarrassed, even resentful, about that season of bungling and mistake-making.  Not until it occurred to me how much I had learned from it did I grow to appreciate it.  Today I find myself enormously thankful for it.

All those blunders and mistakes and bad decisions were of my own making, I always knew that.  Never did I try to blame God, nor did I suspect that he was putting me through some sort of boot camp of hard knocks.  Instead, God was standing by when the time was right to redeem it into something good.  Learning the hard way, there is no form of instruction quite like it.  The wise old bank president understood that, and perhaps why he was grinning to himself when he whirled around leaving his young mentee scratching his head. For, “we know that in all things God works for good.”  Sometimes I imagine God grinning to himself back in my own bungling days, just like the old banker.

“Be careful, then, how you live – not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity.”  – Ephesians 5:15 

On our recent trip to Sweden one of the tourist attractions we visited was Gripshom Castle which boasts of one of the largest collections of portraits in the world.  Literally every room and corridor in that magnificent palace is lined with portraits dating back to the sixteenth century painted by famous portrait artists of the respective periods.  Great works of art each and every one, the subjects both men and women dressed in finery that suggested royalty, nobility, and some cases high military rank, yet with few exceptions there was no signage, or brochures that I am aware, explaining who these specific individuals were or their position in or contribution to society.

At some point, having become overwhelmed, maybe even a little bored, by the massive numbers of portraits at every turn, I found myself curious about exactly that, aside from representing the royalty and aristocracy of their times, who were these people, I wondered?  Yes, they made the “A” list to get invited to the lavish balls that Gripshom Castle must have hosted over the course of its history, most likely they were rich and well educated, and no doubt born into the right families.  Otherwise, besides birthright, what had they done to earn their place on the walls of fame of that historic royal palace?

One of my dear friends used to muse about judgment day that maybe we will only be asked one question to justify ourselves.  “What did you do with what I gave you?” the Lord will demand to know.  (Hmm!  Wonder where he came up with that one?  Ah, but didn’t Jesus tell a similar parable about the master entrusting talents to three servants before leaving town, then asking for an accounting when he returned?)

Remembering my friend’s musings about judgment day brought it all into perspective for me, for I began to realize that those people whose portraits hang on the walls in that castle were just like you and me.  We’ve all been entrusted with something, and some I suspect either buried or squandered it with little or nothing to show, as we humans sometimes do.  Others, though, used theirs for good, multiplying its value.  It’s all an ancient lesson that applies to everyone.  So, “be careful, then, how you live,” as Paul reminds us, “not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity.”