Warnings of “success” are a centerpiece in the story of God. This is a confusing idea, especially when we all wink at physical blessing as the verification of God’s grace in our own life. Even more, when we take a cursory ride through the Old Testament and roll down the window to see physical blessings (houses, vineyards, & children) right alongside the faithfulness of God’s people, an untrue idea gets cemented in our spiritual psyche—success is always a blessing. While I don’t deny that pursuit of God will sometimes bring physical blessings, those blessings should almost always come with a warning label.
METAPHORS TOO CLOSE TO HOME
This week’s news cycle reminded me of how achievement—that thing we’ve all worked for, prayed for, & dreamed of—is often the very tool of our undoing. Scott Saul and Mike Pilavachi are only the most current victims in this strange battle. Admittedly, you probably don’t know those names. They are not famous in any other place but in church/ministry circles. But both have been men I’ve admired, watched, learned from, listened to, and secretly coveted their brand of influence. More sadly, no one did this to them. They have sacrificed their own lives and legacy unwittingly. They certainly didn’t do it on purpose, but the result is the same—their success has been the sharp rocks on which they have shipwrecked their life.
I don’t offer any wisdom. The most banal of binary responses might be, “Success is at fault. Choose mediocrity.” That isn’t true or helpful. So, what should pastors, leaders, business owners, or anyone with a modicum of ambition do? Perhaps three reminders:
Success isn’t the enemy. But our enemy knows our hearts are frail and prone to wonder. He can see when our hearts are distant from our Heavenly Father and he lures us with a lesser love—power, money, comfort, and the praise of men. While success isn’t the enemy, it must be handled like uranium. We must steward our influence knowing it can help others, but just as likely, blow up and hurt everyone around us.
No one is immune. Scott Saul and Mike Pilavachi knew this even as they grew large churches and garnered well-deserved gospel influence. But even the most humble, well-intentioned person is susceptible to the failure of heart that is born of very public success. In turn, I fear success. Not because of the success itself, but because I fear my heart is too fractured to live under the weight of it.
Pursue faithfulness above all things. Or to say it another way, faithfulness keeps us safe in the shadow of grace. Stepping into the bright light of the praise of men and the finicky audience of culture is when we are most vulnerable to falling off the edge. A good rule of thumb: if we get praised for doing one thing publicly, we should do five things privately that no one ever sees.
