“From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”  – Luke 12:48 

During the early years of my business career whenever my colleagues and I would gather socially the conversation inevitably revolved around making money.  Over the years, though, our conversations began to shift – from how to make money to how to make a difference.  I’m not sure whether that was a result of our respective net-worths growing larger, or that we were simply growing up.  Whatever the reason – and it was most likely some of both – we all probably experienced in one way or another what the late Bob Buford described as “halftime” in his popular book by the same title.

For certain it was Bob Buford who changed my life in that regard.  (I never knew Bob personally, although I met him once briefly.  But his influence on my life has been profound, and for that reason I pay tribute to Bob Buford who just recently passed away.)  It was in 1994 I stumbled across a review in the newspaper of his then newly published book Halftime inspiring me to buy a copy and read it.  As the subtitle explains, the theme of the book is about “Changing Your Game Plan from Success to Significance,” a message that certainly transformed my own game plan.

As Buford explains, “The first half of life has to do with getting and gaining, learning and earning.  Most do this in the most ordinary of ways:  getting an education, entering the work force, starting a family, buying a house, earning enough money to provide for needs as well as a few wants, setting goals and climbing toward them. . . [But the] second half is more risky because it has to do with living beyond the immediate.  It is about releasing the seed of creativity and energy that has been implanted within us, watering and cultivating it so that we may be abundantly fruitful.  It involves investing our gifts in service to others – and receiving the personal joy that comes as a result of that spending.” 

No doubt my business colleagues and I, having each experienced some sort of “halftime” epiphany, had shifted our focus from a quest for success, which we had all achieved at some level, to significance; that is, the responsibility that comes with it.  For Jesus makes it crystal clear, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

“But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.”

–          Matthew 19:30 

Once I was invited, along with other candidates, to submit a proposal for facilitating a team-building workshop, not an unusual request in my line of work.  I presented what I thought was an excellent proposal, followed by a personal interview that seemed to go extremely well.  I felt certain the project would be mine.  A few days later, however, I learned that someone else had been awarded the engagement.  Normally, I take such things in stride, but this time I felt deeply disappointed. . . that is, until not long afterward I learned there were some severe dysfunctions within that organization that would have been disastrously disruptive to the workshop.  That’s when I realized that in this case losing was my good fortune, I had dodged a bullet.

There are times we win when we lose, and times we lose when we win.  That may seem like a hard concept for those of us who are bred to compete. But my experience above was a case in point.  Of course, in most competitive circumstances we should strive to win.  If playing in the Super Bowl, the World Series, the Masters, or competing for an Olympic Gold, go for it with all you’ve got.  But first place sometimes comes at the expense of a greater loss, while sometimes last place positions us for future victory.

In his book Leaders Eat Last Simon Sinek sets out to prove this very concept, gaining much of his theory by observing the United States Marine Corps, where it is customary that officers eat last.  “When you are with Marines gathering to eat,” explains George J. Flynn (Lt. Gen. USMC Retired) in the book’s Foreword, “you will notice that the most junior are served first and the most senior are served last.  When you witness this act, you will also note that no order is given.  Marines just do it.  At the heart of this very simple action is the Marine Corps’ approach to leadership.  Marine leaders are expected to eat last because the true price of leadership is the willingness to place the needs of others above your own.  Great leaders truly care about those they are privileged to lead and understand that the true cost of the leadership privilege comes at the expense of self- interest.”  Seems consistent with Jesus’ message, doesn’t it?  “But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.” There are times we win when we lose, and times we lose when we win.

“The Lord God said, ‘It is not good for the man to be alone.’”  – Genesis 2:18 

“For without friends,” Aristotle once said, “no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.”  In his writings known as the “Nicomachean Ethics” Aristotle identifies three kinds of friendship, the first based on the pleasure of another’s company, or “friendships of pleasure”.  The second has to do with usefulness in association, or “friendships of utility”.  And the third is about mutual admiration, what he refers to as “friendships in virtue”.  All are essential to the good life, according to his writings, and the best sorts of friends will not only admire each other’s excellence, but take pleasure in each other’s company and find their association of mutual advantage.

I am self-employed and work alone.  It has been my life’s dream to do this, to do my own thing, be my own boss.  It is a glorious way to live to be given the opportunity to make a living doing what one loves to do, where work does not feel like work.  I love it more than anything I can ever imagine.  But I must warn that in some ways working solo is a dangerous endeavor.  More than once I have learned of its hazards the hard way; for as with any occupation certain support functions are required in order that the primary purpose be pursued, not all of which are fun nor am I particularly good at them.  Example:  recently I received notice from a government agency that I had failed to file a certain report.  It was not intentional, of course, simply an oversight – I just forgot.  It took at least a day in total to resolve the matter, time taken away from my primary purpose which I found most aggravating.  Such administrative distractions are more common than I care to mention.

I am learning, however, to surround myself more and more with trusted friends and colleagues who help me in supporting my best efforts.  Even though I remain self-employed and work alone, I cannot do it by myself.  I need a team.  I need colleagues within my profession from whom I have much to learn.  I need others who are good at the things I am not.  And I need the company of family and friends who give me pleasure.  Indeed, “It is not good for man to be alone.”  Aristotle might have appreciated the popular song lyrics Barbra Streisand once crooned in the Broadway musical “Funny Girl”, “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.”  For, as he said, “without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.”

“But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret.”  – Matthew 6:3 

In 1997, the New York Times reported that Edith and Harry Everett had pledged three million dollars toward the six-million-dollar cost of renovating New York’s Central Park Zoo.  In exchange, the zoo was to be named the “Everett Children’s Zoo”.  But, said the Times, the couple decided to withdraw their pledge and give the money elsewhere.  The reason, they explained, was that the proposed plaque at the zoo entrance, on which their names would be emblazoned, was too small.  

When I first read about the Everett’s I was incensed.  How could they, I thought!  Can you imagine such an attitude of self-importance?  Neither can I . . . that is, until I realize I do the same thing when I offer up good deeds or make generous donations.  Thinking I have earned kudos and attaboys, I often harbor resentment when such praise does not occur.  So, if I stand in judgment of the Everett’s, am I not also convicting myself?

The late Robert Woodruff, the legendary leader of the Coca-Cola company from 1923-1954, once said, “There is no limit to what a man can do or how far he can go as long as he doesn’t care who gets the credit.”  Could it be, then, that the opposite is also true, that expecting recognition and praise for generous deeds places limits on our potential?

This is precisely the point Wharton Business School professor Adam Grant makes in his acclaimed book Give and Take, that extensive research has proven that “givers”, those who give with the purest motives, expecting nothing in return, are the ones who over time are most likely to rise to the top in their career fields.

To be sure, the benefit of a three-million-dollar gift from the Everett’s to the Central Park Zoo would have been the same regardless the size of the sign bearing their name.  Same is true of my own meager gifts and deeds.  We only limit ourselves and our own potential to grow when we demand such recognition.  “So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by men. . . But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret.” 

“But I tell you the truth: It is for your good that I am going away.”  – John 16:7 

Libby and Ross had moved into the same Dallas neighborhood around the same time we did, and it did not take long for our paths to cross. Their daughter Julie and our younger son Marc attended the same middle school back then, participated in band, and were involved in the same youth group at the church we all attended.  Tee and Libby soon became carpool buddies and active volunteers at the school and church, even joined the same neighborhood book club.  Quickly enough Ross and I got drawn into the relationship and became friends as well, after which we began to hang out together as couples.  Then unexpectedly Libby and Ross announced to us over dinner one evening that they were moving away, for business reasons, to North Carolina.  We were crushed.

It is not unusual in today’s mobile society for time and distance to cause friendships such as ours to gradually drift, not that we intend that to happen, it just does.  Realizing that we decided that before parting ways we should go away together for one last fling over a long weekend.  That was 1992, and little did we know then how that trip would bond us for life; for instead of waning, our friendship grew deeper and stronger and closer despite the geographical distance.  Turns out we discovered what amazing travel companions we were with common interests, similar tastes in food and restaurants, and comparable travel budgets.  Since then, over the years we have taken many fabulous trips together, each one strengthening our bond of friendship.

“It is for your good that I am going away.”  We get it now, but none of us could have possibly imagined that back in 1992.  Then this past week our dear friend Libby moved away again, this time after a long and courageous battle with cancer.  Upon receiving that news we were once again crushed, struggling through our grief to understand how it is for our good that she went away.

Surely Jesus’ devoted followers, through their grief, must have suffered the same agonizing question on Good Friday two thousand years ago . . . that is, until Easter morning arrived revealing an empty tomb.  Only then do the words start to make sense.  And therein lies our hope – for Libby, for ourselves in grieving her loss, and for the future.  For today the Lord is risen!  And thanks be to God, therefore so is Libby.