I was doing some networking at a charity function recently where a friend graciously described me to a businessman I had not met saying:
“Carl is creative, aggressive, smart, tough, persistent, and very persuasive. He is a winner.”
I reached out to shake the hand of my new acquaintance and replied: “I’m not sure who the guy fitting that description is, but it would be interesting to meet him.”
When I return home that evening, the word “winner” kept flowing through my mind. I flashed back to a mantra I used early in my career to psyche myself up for business meetings. “Winners win.”
I’m older now and don’t think like that anymore. Maturity has changed my focus on winning. I now try centering attention on exactly what I am trying to win.
I realize now that any developed talent I may demonstrate does not really come from me. I did not choose to be born in America, to be mentored by a caring family that helped form my skills, to be blessed with the gift of good health.
Many unexpected opportunities came my way and I was fortunate to avoid a number of calamities through no help of my own. I was entitled to none of these blessings and without them, my life and ability would be very different.
In all honesty, I’ve won some things in the past that proved to be not too valuable. Those “wins” were my fault, caused by a failure to recognize the precarious spiritual condition which infiltrated my decision making. My goals were often set by self-indulgence (fulfillment of earthly senses), domination (thirst for power and control) and self-idolatry (believing what was “good” for me was the greatest good and worth pursuit). Each of those conditions is unhealthy and addictive. Worse, they create a wide road toward emptiness, loneliness and sometimes the destruction of others and the destruction of self.
A lot of the problem with my reward system was caused by pride and the “merit” I believed I “earned” by using the talents that I believed were mine. My condition, like many conditions, paralleled the biblical. I was living as the older brother in the Parable of the Prodigal Son.
While I’ve had my share of prodigal moments, I identify my life more with the older son. I tried to follow the rules, work hard and “earn” rewards with the talent I thought was mine. Since the talent was mine, why shouldn’t the rewards be mine, I rationalized.
In the Beatitudes delivered at the Sermon on the Mount, mercy triumphs over justice every single time. The young me could recite the beatitudes but was far too self-absorbed to understand how to apply them to personal goal setting. Predictably, my prayer life was too shallow to be of any practical use either.
In the prodigal son parable, the older brother was actually a lot like the younger, perhaps merely lacking the guts to leave the safety of the father’s nest. Serving his father was a responsibility, not a joy to the older. He appears to have had the same earthly desire to party as his younger brother. His complaint was not getting a goat to enjoy with his friends . The older son gets upset that his responsible effort brought a unfulfilling reward. He was seeking the wrong reward. His blindness perceives a lack of justice from the father causing him to be jealous of his brother and insulting to his father.
The father, filled with righteous purpose, looks past the insults and does not rebuke or command his misguided child. He invites his angered child to the celebration for the return of the younger son. We do not know if the older son accepts the invitation. The young Carl, would not have. I was blinded with my merit and justice it “deserves”. Hopefully, I am wiser now.
So how do you use creativity, aggressiveness, intelligence, persistence, and persuasiveness when you know possessing it has nothing to do with you? I now try to approach the talent I deploy with a sense of duty. My responsibility is to use the gifts I control fully and with a purpose. These days, I try to create that rising tide that floats all boats.
It is said that your heart is where your treasure is. Self-Idolatry is the world’s most dangerous treasure. Acts of love, mercy, forgiveness, and charity all recognize that we are part of something much bigger than ourselves. I am convinced it is the only place where true and lasting joy can be found. When I stay focused on these bigger acts and not merit, reward is defined by contribution. The goal, the work and the win each become much more satisfying. I pray that each of us finds opportunities for the joy of service and contribution and that we embrace them with passion.
