“We set young leaders up for a fall if we encourage them to envision what they can do before they consider the kind of person they should be.” -Ruth Haley Barton

Many young folks (humans) want money. Fame. Influence.
Opportunity. Meaningful work.

Striving to find the Easy Button for such things.

But what happens if/when these things come, we aren’t the people to handle such blessings?

We live in a time when character is optional. Moral integrity a side show to whomever can yell the loudest.

And yet, history and experience and ancient texts will tell us… you can’t separate character and competence.

When competence, skill, opportunity, platform, or influence outpaces character, it’s a time bomb waiting to explode.

Character eats competence all day long.

And beware of the smokescreen that a competent person equals a person of character.

History is not kind to this oversight.

Study the life of Jesus. One thing becomes obvious:

Jesus was not concerned with winning.

Winning arguments.

Winning power over others.

Winning popularity contests.

Winning followers with manipulation.

Winning political leverage.

Jesus didn’t see life as a competition to be won. He didn’t imagine the Kingdom of God as a world of winners and losers.

Jesus’ vision for the Good Life and the Kingdom were less competitive, and more built on the framework of grace, generosity, and sacrifice.

A vision of leadership culminating in service.

A life built for the benefit of others.

In the last days of Jesus’ life, with the cross in view, Jesus made this stunning comment:

“Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave — just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” -Matt. 20:25-28

Life isn’t about control and winning.

Leadership isn’t about being in front and often requires being comfortable in the backseat.

Losing our rights and independence for the benefit of others.

Our time needs leaders to lead well and lead for others.

Lead like Jesus.

Be like Jesus.

Maya Angelou on doing good:

“I’m convinced of this: Good done anywhere is good done everywhere. For a change, start by speaking to people rather than walking by them like they’re stones that don’t matter. As long as you’re breathing, it’s never too late to do some good.”

In our moment, our current political, and wildfires in LA moment… we need more of this.

Leadership = doing good for all.

I’ve taken part in dozens of funerals. Attending services for close friends and family members. I’ve given eulogies and said prayers. Today we buried my step-grandfather.

I’m not sure what it is about funerals, but I never leave the same. I find myself reflecting on this one precious life. I wonder if my life is all it could be. What would my kids say about me if I died tomorrow, or next year?

When I listen to the pastors, priests, or family members speak of their loved ones with glowing memories. I wonder what my closest friends or wife would say about my five minutes on earth?

Driving home from the funeral reminded me of David Brooks book, _The Road to Character._ In fact, I think about this idea he crafted every time I leave a funeral. He introduced a thought-provoking concept:

Resume Virtues vs. Eulogy Virtues

Resume virtues are the skills and achievements you list on your resume — those experiences you feel make you hirable. Those accomplishments, educational milestones, and career successes we believe validate our existence.

Eulogy virtues are the qualities people speak about at your funeral—your kindness, humor, humility, bravery, and ability to inspire others. I loved hearing one of the grandkids talk about the leadership of our step-grandfather during the Korean War. Later in his work in aviation. These virtues shape your character and define the legacy you leave behind.

Typically, these virtues are remembered long after the resume virtues fade into oblivion.

Brooks suggests modern culture has an unhealthy emphasis on resume virtues at the expense of eulogy virtues. From a young age, we’re encouraged to focus on building successful careers, hustle, grind, chase accolades, and “win” in life.

Yet, when people reflect on their lives, it’s the eulogy virtues that often hold the most significance. I can attest to this today going to my grandfather’s funeral. People spoke of presence, and teaching them how to hook a fish, and hunt a deer. The times grandma and grandpa sang song during family gatherings.

These eulogy traits are often the unseen stuff. The interactions with family and community and church. The quiet ways they served their families and community. Like grandpa getting a second job to put the kids through Catholic school. These eulogy traits answer deeper questions about who we were as individuals, how we treated others, and what kind of impact we made on the world.

So, driving home, I thought about eulogy traits. What impact do I want to leave behind? Is it awards, and milestones, and accolades on a resume?

Or, things like courage, presence, love, and humility?

I pray for the latter.

The path of reaching goals, doing our best work, and making great art requires subtraction.

Often we think: I need to add. I need to buy. I’ll need longer hours.

Sometimes this is true.

You might need more learning, or research, or mentoring before you start. More hours to make the thing.

But more often than not, we need subtraction.

Writing the next book will require removing Netflix, social media, and unnecessary social gatherings from our daily orbit.

If wanting to be a present parent, it will require fewer hours at the office, less travel, and fewer hobbies.

Pursuing a healthy lifestyle it will require subtracting late nights, fast food, toxic substances and relationships, and doom scrolling news.

In cultivating a peaceful soul, it will require less noise and more stillness.

What are you removing today?

We’re surrounded by spreadsheets and metrics, drowning in data while starving for meaning. We hustle and grind working for someone else’s dream.

Art and spirituality aren’t luxury add-ons to a “successful” life—they’re essential nutrients our souls require to thrive.

Our art by way of reminder, is about contribution, doing the courageous thing, our offering, prayer, and gifts we bring to the world. Some art is obvious: painting, writing, and dancing. Other forms of art are subtle: making laws for communities to thrive, and offering counseling for recovery drug addicts.

Art is how we make sense of ourselves, God, and the world.

Consider the cave paintings at Lascaux. Our ancestors didn’t paint bison on cave walls to improve their quarterly hunting metrics. Boost revenue for second quarter. They painted to connect with something larger than themselves, to make sense of their place in the world.

That artist-hunger hasn’t changed. It won’t, can’t, it will never run out of steam because we’re made by The Divine Artist.

When we create art—whether it’s a painting, writing a song, making a business plan, or a simple doodle—we’re taking part in an ancient ritual of meaning-making.

We’re saying: “I was here, I noticed this, it mattered to me. I made this for you. Thank you, God.”

Spirituality, which finds its roots in Spirit, gives us a framework for understanding why it matters. A lens by which we view our creative acts as more than just self-expression—they become bridges between the visible and invisible.

Spirit grounds us and tethers us to greater realities. Reminding us we are here doing these human things, and having these human experiences, and it all matters, and it’s all grace.

The marketplace wants to commodify everything, to turn every human activity into a transaction. Make our lives manageable and measurable. But art and spirituality resist this reduction.

Spirit and Art remind us that not everything that counts can be counted, that some forms of value can’t be captured in a P&L statement.

The real question isn’t whether we can afford to make time for art and spirituality. It’s whether we can afford not to. A good chance we’re already caught up in it, and just need eyes to see.

It’s not a question if art and spirituality are divergent things. They are dance partners, one needing the other.

Because without them, we’re just efficient machines processing inputs and outputs. And that’s not why we’re here. We’re not machines.

We are artists.