Significance

Years ago a college professor gave me a piece of wise advice I’ve never forgotten. We were talking about my career choices and what kind of job I should pursue. Thoughtfully my teacher said, “There are many different ways you can honor God in your work. But whatever you do, spend your time on something that really matters. The worst curse in life is meaninglessness.”

Decades later I’m convinced my teacher was right. *The worst curse in life is meaninglessness. *I know guys who mow grass for a living, and they do it cheerfully and purposefully “as unto the Lord.” I know men and women who have never amassed a financial fortune but they are rich in the peace that passes understanding. I know millionaires who have every imaginable convenience at their fingertips, yet they seem restless, unfulfilled, and discontent; and I know others who have found significance and true riches not merely by amassing personal comforts but by using their blessings for the glory of God.

When I first became the president of a Christian university, friends would ask, “Are you enjoying your new role?” It was a simple question and well-intended, but I didn’t know how to answer it. If I said “yes,” I wouldn’t be completely honest because the job was stressful and demanding; but if I said “no” it would sound like I hated my job, and that wasn’t true either. I didn’t despise my work; in fact, I found deep satisfaction in it. It’s just that “enjoying” wasn’t the right word to describe my state of mind. Did I “enjoy” the weight of responsibility, the financial pressure, the complicated matrix of expectations, and the long hours that went with the job? No, “enjoying” wasn’t the right word. However, if my friends had asked if I found significance in my work, I would have answered with an immediate and hearty “yes.”

Don’t misunderstand. I’ve experienced incredible joy while serving the Lord. But for a follower of Christ, aren’t there more important goals than simply enjoying ourselves? When the pursuit of happiness becomes our primary goal, it devolves into the frenzied preoccupation with self that Jesus warned about in the Sermon on the Mount. Don’t be like the pagans who run after things to eat, drink, and wear, Jesus said. Other things matter more—deeper things that God bestows and blesses. Things like faithfulness and obedience. Things like relationships with family and friends. Things like being true to your values and generous with your possessions. Things like devotion, duty, and integrity, and pursuing the higher purpose God has placed in your heart.

Doctors, nurses, farmers, custodians, counselors, social workers, plumbers, restaurant managers, fishermen, moms, and many others tackle unpleasant tasks many of us would find difficult or even repulsive. Do they work because they receive money or other rewards for their efforts? Yes, but on their best days they also may discover a deeper satisfaction—and even recognize the hand of God in their labor. Do they “enjoy” their work? Not always. But do they feel a sense of significance? Yes, if the Lord is their companion.

In his book The Life God Blesses, Gordon MacDonald tells about a bus driver whose daily work was transformed when he decided that each morning before anyone got on the bus, he would close the door, face the empty seats, and say, “In the name of Jesus, I declare this bus a sanctuary for the next eight hours. And I declare that all the people who enter this sanctuary will experience the love of Christ through me whether they realize it or not.” MacDonald mentions others who have decided to do the same thing in their workplaces. A pilot is now flying sanctuaries instead of 747s, and a surgeon does his work in a sanctuary, not an operating room.

The Lord of eternity is also the Lord of the here and now. The ruler of the macro-universe is present and involved in our microcosmic personal world of eating, driving, working, money managing, housekeeping, relationship building, sleeping, child-rearing, problem-solving, aging, and dying. He’s Immanuel, “God with us.”

That’s pretty significant, don’t you think?