What Is Success?
Sermon
SERMONS ON THE GOSPEL READINGS
Series I, Cycle A
Erma Bombeck wrote, "I can't remember the name of the man who spoke at my high school commencement, but I remember what he said. He told us the future of the world rested on our shoulders and he charged us with finding our destiny and fulfilling it. He went on to say we alone must cure disease, hunger and poverty throughout the world, and above all, we must find success.
"I glanced over at Jack, the class deficient who couldn't even find his parents after they parked the car, and I got an uneasy feeling. Not only that, but for those of us who planned to sleep in for a week, the speech was very depressing, as it seemed to call for a lot of work from such a small class.
"After the speech, the entire group scrambled out of the auditorium in search of success as if it were the first item on a scavenger hunt. We had no idea what it was, where to look for it, how much it cost, whether it was in season or what it looked like, but from that day on we got up early in the morning and pursued it until late at night. Sometimes we heard that another classmate had found it, but when we confronted him, he assured us that if he had, he would be happier.
"By our tenth reunion, no one had found it yet. The men struggled in their jobs and fertilized their lawns on weekends, and the women raised babies and polished the bottoms of their Revere Ware. It seemed we were never rich enough, thin enough or important enough to qualify for success.
"I've spent a lifetime trying to figure out who has success."
Don't we know how it is? So, today I want us to look to Christ and his words in the Bible and see if we can learn what success is. In Matthew 7:24--27 Jesus told the parable of the wise and foolish builders. In this story both men decided to build a house, both men worked at it, both desired to succeed. Furthermore, both of them heard the word of God, finished their work, moved into their buildings and both suffered through a severe storm. The trouble is, while one heard the word and was careful to do it, the other only heard the word but did not do it. The result was, one man's house collapsed while the other's stood. So in a sense, one man was successful while the other failed.
With this in mind, let's ask some serious questions about success.
Length
First of all, is success found in length of life? Do we measure it like a string? The longer the string, the better? The longer a person lives, the better his life?
Methuselah lived to be 969 years old, according to Genesis 5:27. No one has ever lived longer! Yes, that's all we know of Methuselah. There is no record of his accomplishing much of anything else except 969 birthdays.
Our society today is really into longevity. What with our facelifts, Oil of Olay, vitamins, organ transplants, and regimen of exercise, we try to look and act young. Actually, this is nothing new. In the 1500s, Spanish explorer Ponce de Leon explored Florida searching for the fountain of youth. Today, in our fervent belief that it is better to be young than old, we turn to doctors, the new high priest in our cult of long life, health, and youth. To them go our faith, money, and frequent pilgrimages in hopes that one more test, one more treatment, can add length to our lives.
An elderly gentleman wasn't feeling well, and became irritated with his doctor because he wasn't getting any better after five visits. "Look," said the doctor, "I'm doing all I can to help you. I can't make you younger!" The old man said, "I wasn't particularly interested in getting younger. I just want to continue growing older!"
The American Medical Association recently finished a ten--year study on aging. They concluded that a 150--year life span might soon be realistic. But, will living longer make us more successful or only give us more time to fail?
From Adam to the flood, a person averaged 846 years in a life span. From the flood to Moses people lived around 333 years. From Moses to Solomon, the average was about 95 years. In the Middle Ages, the average was down to an all--time low of 35 years. Today the average life span for an American citizen is 72 years. Yet, in all of this history of longevity, one finds that length of years has very little to do with a person's success.
Indeed, some of the most successful persons died quite young! Shubert, Mozart, Shelley, John the Baptizer, and Jesus Christ all died in their thirties. Peter Marshall put it well when he wrote, "The measure of a life is not its duration, but its donation."
Width
If success isn't to be found in length of life, then maybe it is in width.
In the Middle Ages, Genghis Khan developed the military strategy of firepower and mobility, and utilizing the pincher movement he invaded the western world. At one time, he ruled from China to Eastern Europe. And still today, he holds the distinction of having made the largest land conquest in military history. In the twentieth century Adolf Hitler ruled more of the modern world than any other person.
Both men had great width. But who would want to be like Khan or Hitler? Yet, we are so convinced that width is a measure of success today. We crave power, influence, control as if to have these proves we are somebody.
Why do you think a small college professor pushes himself to write a book, interview for employment with a bigger university, and eventually control a large research budget, all the while abusing his spouse, ignoring his children, and neglecting his students? He's selling his soul for width!
About a year before his death, George Bernard Shaw, largely considered to be the twentieth century's most educated person, granted one of his rare interviews to a journalist. The reporter questioned the aged playwright at length. Finally he asked, "Mr. Shaw, you have known some of the greatest men of our time: statesmen, artists, philosophers, writers, and musicians. You've now outlived most of them. Suppose it were possible for you to call back one of those great minds - which one would it be? What person do you most miss?" Without hesitation, the old man answered, "The man I miss the most is the man I used to be!"
What is success? What does it look like? How much does it cost? Where do I find it? If it is not in length or width, perhaps it is in ...
Height
Height says that success is in fame, popularity, wealth, the size of your house, the sort of car you drive, and in your wardrobe. Yet there are those who hustle to get all of those things only to find themselves strangely empty.
Poet Robert W. Service in his poem, "The Spell of the Yukon," admits,
I wanted the gold, and I sought it; I scrabbled and mucked like a slave.
Was it famine or scurvy - I fought it; I hurled my youth into a grave.
I wanted the gold, and I got it - Came out with a fortune last fall.
Yet somehow life's not what I thought it, and somehow the gold isn't all.
Tucked away in the Old Testament is an obscure book called Ecclesiastes. Basically it is a journal King Solomon kept. In it he confesses that he's reached the height and width and length of life. Was it money? He had it. Was it sexual pleasure? He had hundreds of beautiful wives. Was it military power, architectural splendor, fame - he'd known it all. "All this is vanity," he complained. Nothing satisfied.
Again and again the poets, playwrights, rock stars, athletes, presidents, and playboys of history have told us that worldly riches are like nuts - many a clothes torn in trying to climb high to get them, many a tooth chipped in trying to crack them, but never a belly full in eating them.
I once visited a man who had just suffered a drastic financial setback. Crushed from the economic loss the man cried, "Everything is gone! Gone! It's all lost!" Without hesitation, I said, "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that your wife is dead." The man looked up at me in alarm. "My wife?" I continued, "And I'm doubly sad to hear that you have lost your children!" "My children?" the man whispered. "And, oh, how it pains me to learn you've lost your character, your church, your friends, and your God, Christ!" The man protested, saying he'd lost none of those things I'd mentioned. "But I thought you said you'd lost everything!" The man sobered, and it wasn't long before he realized that he'd actually lost none of the things that matter most in life.
After all, money can buy a bed, but not sleep; books, but not wisdom; a harlot, but not love; food, but not appetite; sin's pleasures, but not salvation's peace. It can buy a house, but not a home; medicine, but not health; notoriety, but not character.
Depth
So, what's left? If success is not in height or width or length of life, is it then in depth?
Jesus' parable of the wise and foolish, or successful and failed builders tells us that depth or foundations are the most important element in building successfully.
One man built high and wide and long on a shallow, sandy foundation. The other built up and out and long on a deep foundation of stone. The shallow one caved in while the deep one stood.
Foundations are everything, Jesus said.
Botanists tell me that there is more unseen to a tree than is seen. Roots are everything. Branches, leaves, and fruit are only secondary. Jesus is saying that just as a tree's measure is in its roots, just as the measure of a building is in its foundation, so the measure of a person's life is depth.
Shallow people are like rootless trees or houses with poor foundations; they cannot take pressure very well. In storms they collapse. Their lives are only good in easy, fair--weather times.
Deep people, however, are good for real emergencies. They can think and act, endure and provide. The more difficult the time, the better their leadership.
Oceanographers tell me that there are depths of the sea never disturbed by the hurricanes that often buffet the surface of the sea with terrible waves, winds, and rain. Just beneath the surface is a depth of unruffled quiet. A person of depth is like that. All around him may be a world of confusion, a storm of controversy, yet inside is a deep pool of serenity.
Someone asked John Quincy Adams, at age eighty, how he was doing. "John Quincy Adams is very well, thank you," he replied, "but the house he lives in is sadly dilapidated." As the Bible says in 2 Corinthians 4:16, "Our outer nature is wasting away, but our inner nature is being renewed." We lose our width and height, even length. But the depth inside grows!
Roy Burhart has a novel about Purdy, an old family retainer of a Scottish castle. His fortune is gone, his land devastated by years, his wife long dead, yet Purdy lives on. "How do you do it?" he is asked. "You see the outworks," Purdy explained. "For years they have lain in ruins, but the castle has always stood. So with me. When I lost my savings, when my wife died, when my son didn't come back from the war - well as you might say, the outworks were stormed, but, sir, I have kept the castle! I haven't surrendered my faith in Jesus, and hardness and bitterness haven't gotten inside. And if they do, sir, it will be my fault!"
Yes, a person can lose his height, his width, even his length of life, but if he still has his depth, if his life is still founded on the rock, why, measure him or her a success!
Abe Lincoln is a study in depth. Because he was tall and gawky--looking, "polite" Washington society called him a "gorilla." Because he was born in a log cabin, self--taught, and from rural America, he was considered a country bumpkin. His own presidential cabinet was disloyal to him. Congress did not respect him. Some even accused his wife of being a Southern spy. George McClellan, his primary general, even ran against him in the next election. President Lincoln had no width or height. Even the length of his life was cut short by an assassin's bullet. But he had depth. Foundation. Roots. Because of that, he has endured to become the greatest president the United States has ever had.
Such depth is no accident. It is, as Jesus said in the parable, built in intentionally as one hears the word of Jesus and is careful to obey. Depth is the product of the time and relationship with Christ over many years. In Ephesians 3:16--20, Paul writes that we may be "strengthened with might through his spirit in the inner man, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses all knowledge."
Foundation. Roots. Depth. It comes in the love of God, in Christ, in knowing his word, walking obediently in his Spirit, in realizing his sovereignty, in prayer, in trust, in building the church, in living out his calling in relationship to his people. Such things, Jesus taught, are foundational. They make life sturdy.
Conclusion
Carol, a friend of mine, was a reporter with a Florida television station. She once confided in me, "Stephen, I've interviewed them all. Ford, Carter, Mondale, Reagan. I've talked to judges, athletes, beauty queens, and millionaires. But these aren't the most interesting people. The ones I enjoy most, the most real people, are the store clerks at the little hardware store by the crossroads, the woman who is single and has taught school in the same inner--city neighborhood for 21 years. Possessing very little width or length or even height, they have one thing - depth. In a shallow world, that made them stick out."
I know in my own life I struggle with success. I, too, can easily give myself to the pursuit of making more money, publishing, making a name for myself, looking younger, gaining power ... maybe it's in the next job or the church in the next city. But I have learned a thing or two in my 54 years.
It is not what I do, but in who I am.
It doesn't matter what I look like, where I live or how I dress.
I am basically responsible for the depth of my life - hearing and doing Christ's Word. And God is responsible for how long I live, how much width and height I attain.
William H. Channing had it right when he wrote his creed -
To live content with small means.
To seek elegance rather than luxury,
And refinement rather than fashion.
To be worthy, not respectable.
And wealthy, not rich.
To study hard, think quietly,
Talk gently, act frankly.
To listen to stars and birds,
To babes and sages with open heart.
To bear all cheerfully, do all bravely,
Await occasion, hurry never.
In a word, to let the spiritual,
Unbidden and unconscious grow up
Through the common.
This is my symphony.
Stephen M. Crotts
"I glanced over at Jack, the class deficient who couldn't even find his parents after they parked the car, and I got an uneasy feeling. Not only that, but for those of us who planned to sleep in for a week, the speech was very depressing, as it seemed to call for a lot of work from such a small class.
"After the speech, the entire group scrambled out of the auditorium in search of success as if it were the first item on a scavenger hunt. We had no idea what it was, where to look for it, how much it cost, whether it was in season or what it looked like, but from that day on we got up early in the morning and pursued it until late at night. Sometimes we heard that another classmate had found it, but when we confronted him, he assured us that if he had, he would be happier.
"By our tenth reunion, no one had found it yet. The men struggled in their jobs and fertilized their lawns on weekends, and the women raised babies and polished the bottoms of their Revere Ware. It seemed we were never rich enough, thin enough or important enough to qualify for success.
"I've spent a lifetime trying to figure out who has success."
Don't we know how it is? So, today I want us to look to Christ and his words in the Bible and see if we can learn what success is. In Matthew 7:24--27 Jesus told the parable of the wise and foolish builders. In this story both men decided to build a house, both men worked at it, both desired to succeed. Furthermore, both of them heard the word of God, finished their work, moved into their buildings and both suffered through a severe storm. The trouble is, while one heard the word and was careful to do it, the other only heard the word but did not do it. The result was, one man's house collapsed while the other's stood. So in a sense, one man was successful while the other failed.
With this in mind, let's ask some serious questions about success.
Length
First of all, is success found in length of life? Do we measure it like a string? The longer the string, the better? The longer a person lives, the better his life?
Methuselah lived to be 969 years old, according to Genesis 5:27. No one has ever lived longer! Yes, that's all we know of Methuselah. There is no record of his accomplishing much of anything else except 969 birthdays.
Our society today is really into longevity. What with our facelifts, Oil of Olay, vitamins, organ transplants, and regimen of exercise, we try to look and act young. Actually, this is nothing new. In the 1500s, Spanish explorer Ponce de Leon explored Florida searching for the fountain of youth. Today, in our fervent belief that it is better to be young than old, we turn to doctors, the new high priest in our cult of long life, health, and youth. To them go our faith, money, and frequent pilgrimages in hopes that one more test, one more treatment, can add length to our lives.
An elderly gentleman wasn't feeling well, and became irritated with his doctor because he wasn't getting any better after five visits. "Look," said the doctor, "I'm doing all I can to help you. I can't make you younger!" The old man said, "I wasn't particularly interested in getting younger. I just want to continue growing older!"
The American Medical Association recently finished a ten--year study on aging. They concluded that a 150--year life span might soon be realistic. But, will living longer make us more successful or only give us more time to fail?
From Adam to the flood, a person averaged 846 years in a life span. From the flood to Moses people lived around 333 years. From Moses to Solomon, the average was about 95 years. In the Middle Ages, the average was down to an all--time low of 35 years. Today the average life span for an American citizen is 72 years. Yet, in all of this history of longevity, one finds that length of years has very little to do with a person's success.
Indeed, some of the most successful persons died quite young! Shubert, Mozart, Shelley, John the Baptizer, and Jesus Christ all died in their thirties. Peter Marshall put it well when he wrote, "The measure of a life is not its duration, but its donation."
Width
If success isn't to be found in length of life, then maybe it is in width.
In the Middle Ages, Genghis Khan developed the military strategy of firepower and mobility, and utilizing the pincher movement he invaded the western world. At one time, he ruled from China to Eastern Europe. And still today, he holds the distinction of having made the largest land conquest in military history. In the twentieth century Adolf Hitler ruled more of the modern world than any other person.
Both men had great width. But who would want to be like Khan or Hitler? Yet, we are so convinced that width is a measure of success today. We crave power, influence, control as if to have these proves we are somebody.
Why do you think a small college professor pushes himself to write a book, interview for employment with a bigger university, and eventually control a large research budget, all the while abusing his spouse, ignoring his children, and neglecting his students? He's selling his soul for width!
About a year before his death, George Bernard Shaw, largely considered to be the twentieth century's most educated person, granted one of his rare interviews to a journalist. The reporter questioned the aged playwright at length. Finally he asked, "Mr. Shaw, you have known some of the greatest men of our time: statesmen, artists, philosophers, writers, and musicians. You've now outlived most of them. Suppose it were possible for you to call back one of those great minds - which one would it be? What person do you most miss?" Without hesitation, the old man answered, "The man I miss the most is the man I used to be!"
What is success? What does it look like? How much does it cost? Where do I find it? If it is not in length or width, perhaps it is in ...
Height
Height says that success is in fame, popularity, wealth, the size of your house, the sort of car you drive, and in your wardrobe. Yet there are those who hustle to get all of those things only to find themselves strangely empty.
Poet Robert W. Service in his poem, "The Spell of the Yukon," admits,
I wanted the gold, and I sought it; I scrabbled and mucked like a slave.
Was it famine or scurvy - I fought it; I hurled my youth into a grave.
I wanted the gold, and I got it - Came out with a fortune last fall.
Yet somehow life's not what I thought it, and somehow the gold isn't all.
Tucked away in the Old Testament is an obscure book called Ecclesiastes. Basically it is a journal King Solomon kept. In it he confesses that he's reached the height and width and length of life. Was it money? He had it. Was it sexual pleasure? He had hundreds of beautiful wives. Was it military power, architectural splendor, fame - he'd known it all. "All this is vanity," he complained. Nothing satisfied.
Again and again the poets, playwrights, rock stars, athletes, presidents, and playboys of history have told us that worldly riches are like nuts - many a clothes torn in trying to climb high to get them, many a tooth chipped in trying to crack them, but never a belly full in eating them.
I once visited a man who had just suffered a drastic financial setback. Crushed from the economic loss the man cried, "Everything is gone! Gone! It's all lost!" Without hesitation, I said, "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that your wife is dead." The man looked up at me in alarm. "My wife?" I continued, "And I'm doubly sad to hear that you have lost your children!" "My children?" the man whispered. "And, oh, how it pains me to learn you've lost your character, your church, your friends, and your God, Christ!" The man protested, saying he'd lost none of those things I'd mentioned. "But I thought you said you'd lost everything!" The man sobered, and it wasn't long before he realized that he'd actually lost none of the things that matter most in life.
After all, money can buy a bed, but not sleep; books, but not wisdom; a harlot, but not love; food, but not appetite; sin's pleasures, but not salvation's peace. It can buy a house, but not a home; medicine, but not health; notoriety, but not character.
Depth
So, what's left? If success is not in height or width or length of life, is it then in depth?
Jesus' parable of the wise and foolish, or successful and failed builders tells us that depth or foundations are the most important element in building successfully.
One man built high and wide and long on a shallow, sandy foundation. The other built up and out and long on a deep foundation of stone. The shallow one caved in while the deep one stood.
Foundations are everything, Jesus said.
Botanists tell me that there is more unseen to a tree than is seen. Roots are everything. Branches, leaves, and fruit are only secondary. Jesus is saying that just as a tree's measure is in its roots, just as the measure of a building is in its foundation, so the measure of a person's life is depth.
Shallow people are like rootless trees or houses with poor foundations; they cannot take pressure very well. In storms they collapse. Their lives are only good in easy, fair--weather times.
Deep people, however, are good for real emergencies. They can think and act, endure and provide. The more difficult the time, the better their leadership.
Oceanographers tell me that there are depths of the sea never disturbed by the hurricanes that often buffet the surface of the sea with terrible waves, winds, and rain. Just beneath the surface is a depth of unruffled quiet. A person of depth is like that. All around him may be a world of confusion, a storm of controversy, yet inside is a deep pool of serenity.
Someone asked John Quincy Adams, at age eighty, how he was doing. "John Quincy Adams is very well, thank you," he replied, "but the house he lives in is sadly dilapidated." As the Bible says in 2 Corinthians 4:16, "Our outer nature is wasting away, but our inner nature is being renewed." We lose our width and height, even length. But the depth inside grows!
Roy Burhart has a novel about Purdy, an old family retainer of a Scottish castle. His fortune is gone, his land devastated by years, his wife long dead, yet Purdy lives on. "How do you do it?" he is asked. "You see the outworks," Purdy explained. "For years they have lain in ruins, but the castle has always stood. So with me. When I lost my savings, when my wife died, when my son didn't come back from the war - well as you might say, the outworks were stormed, but, sir, I have kept the castle! I haven't surrendered my faith in Jesus, and hardness and bitterness haven't gotten inside. And if they do, sir, it will be my fault!"
Yes, a person can lose his height, his width, even his length of life, but if he still has his depth, if his life is still founded on the rock, why, measure him or her a success!
Abe Lincoln is a study in depth. Because he was tall and gawky--looking, "polite" Washington society called him a "gorilla." Because he was born in a log cabin, self--taught, and from rural America, he was considered a country bumpkin. His own presidential cabinet was disloyal to him. Congress did not respect him. Some even accused his wife of being a Southern spy. George McClellan, his primary general, even ran against him in the next election. President Lincoln had no width or height. Even the length of his life was cut short by an assassin's bullet. But he had depth. Foundation. Roots. Because of that, he has endured to become the greatest president the United States has ever had.
Such depth is no accident. It is, as Jesus said in the parable, built in intentionally as one hears the word of Jesus and is careful to obey. Depth is the product of the time and relationship with Christ over many years. In Ephesians 3:16--20, Paul writes that we may be "strengthened with might through his spirit in the inner man, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses all knowledge."
Foundation. Roots. Depth. It comes in the love of God, in Christ, in knowing his word, walking obediently in his Spirit, in realizing his sovereignty, in prayer, in trust, in building the church, in living out his calling in relationship to his people. Such things, Jesus taught, are foundational. They make life sturdy.
Conclusion
Carol, a friend of mine, was a reporter with a Florida television station. She once confided in me, "Stephen, I've interviewed them all. Ford, Carter, Mondale, Reagan. I've talked to judges, athletes, beauty queens, and millionaires. But these aren't the most interesting people. The ones I enjoy most, the most real people, are the store clerks at the little hardware store by the crossroads, the woman who is single and has taught school in the same inner--city neighborhood for 21 years. Possessing very little width or length or even height, they have one thing - depth. In a shallow world, that made them stick out."
I know in my own life I struggle with success. I, too, can easily give myself to the pursuit of making more money, publishing, making a name for myself, looking younger, gaining power ... maybe it's in the next job or the church in the next city. But I have learned a thing or two in my 54 years.
It is not what I do, but in who I am.
It doesn't matter what I look like, where I live or how I dress.
I am basically responsible for the depth of my life - hearing and doing Christ's Word. And God is responsible for how long I live, how much width and height I attain.
William H. Channing had it right when he wrote his creed -
To live content with small means.
To seek elegance rather than luxury,
And refinement rather than fashion.
To be worthy, not respectable.
And wealthy, not rich.
To study hard, think quietly,
Talk gently, act frankly.
To listen to stars and birds,
To babes and sages with open heart.
To bear all cheerfully, do all bravely,
Await occasion, hurry never.
In a word, to let the spiritual,
Unbidden and unconscious grow up
Through the common.
This is my symphony.
Stephen M. Crotts
