What Does a Life Worth Living Require?

When people embark on a professional career, they typically have one primary goal in sight: Success. They want to prove their skills at their chosen vocation and then be rewarded accordingly, not only financially but also with promotions, and influence. They want to make their mark and be recognized for it.

 

There comes a time in most people’s working careers, however, when a major shift occurs. The pursuit of success becomes a different quest – for significance. They want to leave a meaningful legacy after they retire or pass from this life. They’d like to feel significant, to have achieved a life worth living.

 

But what constitutes significance? Does it mean leaving a vast inheritance? Giving enough money to an institution to deserve having one’s name displayed on a building? Having an obituary that takes up two entire columns in the local newspaper?

 

I thought about this recently while attending the memorial service for a longtime friend. I met Gene when I joined the staff of CBMC (Christian Business Men’s Connection) more than 40 years ago, and he was truly one of a kind – a master of puns in the silliest sense of the word, but also a person devoted to Jesus Christ and with a passion for offering aid to the poor and disenfranchised in whatever ways possible.

 

The church where Gene’s life was celebrated wasn’t large, but it was jammed. Standing room only. Those attending represented a wide range of demographics: white, African-American, mixed race, wealthy, not wealthy at all, old and young. The one common denominator was their love for this man who is now with the Lord and their appreciation for his often-selfless service and ministry of mercy in their lives.

 

Although a musician, writer, and a noted collector of “neat stuff,” Gene never achieved what one might consider celebrity status. Few of the city’s “movers and shakers” were present for the service. And yet, hearing the moving testimonies, listening to laughter as some of his endearing quirks – including his unique sense of humor – were remembered, and seeing visible evidence of the many people whose lives he had touched in the name of Jesus Christ, I couldn’t help thinking that his was a life of true significance.

 

We become enthralled with the famous – even those who achieve fame simply for being famous. But significance doesn’t require being listed in Who’s Who, or having a lengthy bio on Wikipedia, or having a street named after you. Rather, it’s making a genuine, even life-changing difference in the lives of people with whom we have the opportunity to interact. 

 

In Gene’s case, this included being a one-man “clearing house” for impoverished individuals who came to his church seeking help. Experience had taught him the best assistance isn’t always a handout but sometimes offering a hand-up instead. And in the process, introducing many of them to the Savior who not only could save their souls but also guide them to productive, rewarding lives.

 

Proverbs 3:28 teaches, “Do not withhold good from the deserving when it is within your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, ‘Come back tomorrow and I’ll give it to you’ – when you already have it with you.” My friend was an expert in heeding this admonition, doing his best to serve as a soldier in the war on poverty. As he often said, “If you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. If you teach him how to fish, you feed him for a lifetime. And maybe one day, he’ll own the pond.”

 

Many of us on occasion find ourselves wondering what it will be like to take our final breath on Earth and suddenly find ourselves in the presence of the Lord. We do know what Jesus said about those who fulfill the calling God gave to them: “His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!” (Matthew 25:21). I’m certain this is what Gene heard upon arrival.

 

Despite biblical assurances, it's not uncommon even for folks with implicit faith in Jesus Christ to ponder their eventual death with some trepidation. As the ole “theologian” Woody Allen once quipped, “I’m not afraid of dying. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” But if we believe what the Scriptures teach, death in this life is simply what I like to term “stepping to the other side of eternity.” 

It’s when God our Father extends His arms to welcome us home. This explains the curious biblical assertion that, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints” (Psalm 116:15).