“Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men.”  – Ephesians 6:7 

Two business partners were discussing their goals for the next year.  “Let’s try to make more money,” said the first one, to which the other responded, “Why don’t we instead try to serve and help more people?” 

In the preface to his classic book, Man’s Search for Meaning, renowned psychiatrist, author, and Holocaust survivor Dr. Viktor Frankl wrote:  “Don’t aim at success – the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it.  For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side-effect of one’s personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one’s surrender to a person other than oneself. . . I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on to carry it out to the best of your knowledge.  Then you will live to see that in the long run – in the long run, I say! – success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think of it.” 

The bedrock of our financial system and the hope for the future of our prosperity resides in our capacity to create and provide value to other human beings.  Work, in other words, must be first and foremost about creating value rather than making money.  Money is only a byproduct, a means of exchange, a way of measuring value.  That should be resounding good news for all of us during these difficult pandemic times, that each of us has the capacity to contribute to the eradication of the disease, the recovery of the economy, and a return to normalcy, by creating value in serving others.  Then we will live to see, as Dr. Frankl pointed out, that in the long run money and success will follow.

Ultimately, the abundance we realize in our lives will be the result of the value we create, not the money we make or the things we accumulate.  We can all learn from the wise business partner who asked, “Why don’t we instead try to serve and help more people?”  Or as the Apostle Paul advised, “Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men.”

“Wait for the Lord, and he will deliver you.”  – Proverbs 20:22 

A sign in a train station reads “Waiting Room”, but beneath it a warning is posted, “No Loitering”.  Seems like a comical contradiction, doesn’t it?  Hardly, for waiting implies something is about to happen (i.e. the arrival of the train or waiting your turn in line).  Loitering, on the other hand, implies idleness and lack of purpose, hanging out and getting in the way.  Most would agree that loitering is not productive.  Not so with waiting, which is a natural part of the process of life and work.  Who, for example, would ever suggest expecting parents of loitering?  No, waiting is part of the process, yet even in the waiting there is no time for idleness, as life and work continues.

As many people experience during their careers, I once went through a period of working for a not-so-good boss.  But most of my colleagues and I – his direct reports – believed our circumstances would eventually improve if we would wait him out.  It took a few years, but one day it was announced we had a new boss, resulting in our abilities to lead being set free and our careers taking off, just as we had always anticipated they would. 

That great philosopher, Dr. Seuss refers to such experiences as “The Waiting Place.”  As his poem says, “Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow, or waiting around for a Yes or No, or waiting for their hair to grow.  Everyone is just waiting. . .”  But then one day, just like my own career, the waiting pays off. “NO!  That’s not for you!  Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying.  You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing.  With banner flip-flapping, once more you’ll ride high!  Ready for anything under the sky. . . .[Then] Oh, the places you’ll go!” 

Waiting is like what St. John of the Cross once described as “the dark night of the soul.”  Yet, this “dark night” is neither punishing nor afflicting; rather it is a time that sets us free to anticipate, dream about, and prepare for what is to come.  Simply put, it is The Waiting Place as Dr. Seuss calls it, a place to get ready for when the perfect job opportunity comes along, or the right person enters our lives; for the proper treatment of a disease, the birth of a child, or an answer to prayer.  Then, “Oh, the places you’ll go!” For if we . . . “Wait for the Lord, and he will deliver you.”  He always does.

“Be careful then, how you live – not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity . . .”  – Ephesians 5:15-16 

Mike and Kent were two brawny college boys who I would hire from time to time when I needed some work done requiring some muscle on the small ranch we owned for many years.  Both were strong, industrious, ambitious, and hard-working.  Mike, the more alpha of the two, never saw a job he wouldn’t tackle.  His standard response to anything I asked them to do was, “Yeah, we can do that.”  Kent, on the other hand, tended to be a bit more reserved and realistic.  Yet, even he could hardly resist his buddy’s can-do spirit.

The story was told that when these two were young teenagers barely old enough to drive they were offered a job hauling away an old upright piano from someone’s home.  As compensation the piano would be theirs to dispose of as they pleased.  The boys, of course, saw dollar signs expecting they could sell it for a couple hundred bucks.  So, they loaded the piano on a flatbed trailer hitched behind a pickup truck borrowed from one of their dads and off they went with Mike at the wheel.  All went well until Mike rounded a curve a little too fast, slinging the old upright off the trailer into the middle of the highway where it smashed into a million pieces.  Kent, staring at the wreckage, then looking despairingly toward his partner said, “What are we going to do Mike?”  Undaunted, Mike assured him, “Don’t worry, Kent.  We can fix it!”  Of course, they had about as much chance putting Humpty-Dumpty back together as that old piano.

Some people see problems while others see opportunities.  While some can only see the doom and gloom of a moment, there are those who look for ways to do good, to help others, and to create something new and better.  Mike may at times be a bit overly optimistic about his abilities, but you’ve got to give him credit for his attitude.  And as his side-kick Kent would likely attest, that can-do spirit can be infectious.  Every disruption, regardless how dark and severe, creates new opportunities.  And just as the COVID pandemic has placed a black cloud of historic magnitude over us all, isn’t it refreshing to know there are people like Mike out there who are constantly in search of opportunities in the midst of the storm?  “Be careful then, how you live – not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity . . .”

“. . . cling to what is good.”  – Romans 12:9 

During a visit to the NASA space center in 1962, President John F. Kennedy noticed a janitor sweeping the floor. He interrupted his tour and walked over to the man and asked what he was doing.  “Well, Mr. President, I’m helping put a man on the moon,” the janitor responded.  A similar story is the one of Christopher Wren, one of England’s greatest architects. One day he was walking anonymously among the men working on the construction of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, which he designed.  “What are you doing?” he asked one of the workmen. The man replied, “I’m cutting a piece of stone.” As he walked, he asked the same question to another man, and the man replied, “I’m earning five shillings two-pence a day.”  To a third man he addressed the same inquiry, and the man answered, “I am helping Sir Christopher Wren build a beautiful cathedral.”

“You’ve got to be for something,” Dwight D. Eisenhower would often say; this as opposed to being against – or worse, indifferent to – what already exists.  This past weekend I decided to boycott my college alma mater’s football game because I was so upset over their losses in the previous two games.  It was an act intended to express my indifference, if not opposition toward my favorite college team.  Eventually, though, I broke down and watched the last few minutes of the game.  How can I be against or indifferent to, I finally realized, something I am passionately for?

The janitor sweeping the NASA space center was for something, something meaningful and good, and sweeping the floors was his way to be part of it, and to contribute.  Likewise, the third stonecutter felt the same about his endeavors in the building of the beautiful and famous St. Paul’s Cathedral in London.  He was for something, and passionately so.  And although trivial in comparison, despite my frustration, I could not help but cheer on my alma mater because deep down I’ve got to be for something.

To “. . . cling to what is good”, as St. Paul urges, is to be for something, to embrace and support what is right and good with all our might.  Sometimes, as with our favorite sports teams, we may be heartbroken or disappointed in the process, but being for is far more positive and productive than just being against, or worse, indifferent.

“. . . like yeast that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough.”  – Matthew 13:33 

Of all the millions of food recipes there are in the world today from every ethnic origin imaginable, there are few as ancient as that of baked bread.  Today, bread in its many forms and flavors is so accessible from store shelves and bakeries we hardly give it much thought.  But to make it ourselves – from scratch – is an experience that brushes against some of the deepest roots of our humanity.

Once, many years ago, I became fascinated about bread and decided I would try my hand at making it.  It happened at a time when I was between jobs for a couple of weeks, and during dead of winter when our kids were in school all day, so I had plenty of time on my hands.  During those two weeks I baked bread almost every day.  While it was not so good for my waste line, it did wonders for my soul; for, as I learned, breadmaking is as much art as it is science.  And since art imitates life, as they say, I discovered some great life lessons through my breadmaking experience.

While the basic ingredients are pretty simple: flour, water, milk, shortening, butter, and a dash of salt, there remains this mysterious item called yeast, and it is in working with the yeast that breadmaking becomes art.  Or, as the old classic cookbook The Joy of Cooking describes it: “If you have never made real bread, behold one of the great dramas of the kitchen.  Every ingredient is a character.  As producer-director, assemble your cast.  Yeast is the prima donna.  Her volatile temperament is capable of fermentation only within limits of heat – and does she resent a drafty dressing room!”

Although yeast looks like a minor ingredient, yet it permeates the dough causing it to rise to become a scrumptious loaf of bread.  Just like us, there is that little temperamental ingredient that permeates our soul forming our values and character, without which we are unable to blossom as we were intended, into the image of God.  Jesus understood the value of small ingredients.  “The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed . . .” He said. “Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree . . . [or] like yeast that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough.”