Even if the identity of the person who said it didn’t stick with me, the gist of the quote always has. My memory is that it’s from one of the Founding Fathers—advice perhaps John Adams once gave to his son, John Quincy Adams, or maybe something James Madison’s father passed on to him that I read in a biography. I haven’t come across the exact words since I first saw them despite an exhaustive search, and I’m sure I haven’t recorded it here as eloquently as it appeared in the original, but it went something like this:
“Son,” the father said, “devote your life principally, though not exclusively, to a single noble aim.”
Idealistic and practical, visionary and realistic at the same time, the advice acknowledges we all have multi-faceted existences and will take on a variety of roles throughout our years. But there’s also great wisdom in identifying a worthy, primary, and overarching purpose for our days, to name it, and then to hew to it consistently, relentlessly over the entire arc of our lives.
Before I go on, let me make a slight detour so the advice might not be misconstrued. “The worst advice given to young people,” Professor Scott Galloway says, “is…to follow your passion.” Galloway teaches MBA students at NYU’s Stern School of Business and is the author of a book called, The Algebra of Happiness, and another more recent one entitled, The Algebra of Wealth. “Nobody grows up thinking I'm passionate about tax law,” Galloway says, “but the best tax lawyers…get to do interesting things which, by the way, makes them passionate about tax law.”
This is to say that pursuing a single noble aim is not the same as saying follow your passion, and identifying it is only half the challenge anyway. The crux of what the wise father and Professor Galloway both seem to be hinting at is that it’s not only about finding the worthy lifetime endeavor, but then—through earnestly sticking with it—developing a deep, exceptional, and indispensable expertise in the field you’ve chosen; one that uniquely meets the needs of others or perhaps of society as a whole.
Our church recently hosted Biblical scholar and theologian, N.T. Wright, whose knowledge about the New Testament seemed nearly inexhaustible. Over three days, Dr. Wright lectured brilliantly and in an incredibly granular fashion on the manuscript we know as Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. A true tour de force. He did the same with the Book of Acts last year, on both occasions presenting engagingly to a large audience with that unmistakable authority of an expert speaking at the core of his expertise. He offered all those in attendance a host of compelling facts and unique insights about his subject matter. But what I also found interesting in his talks was how his lectures were peppered with statements like, “I realized this in 1979,” or “It’s taken me most of my life to figure this out,” or “This is my current thinking on this matter.” All of this reveals not only that he’s been deeply devoted to the project of New Testament scholarship for a long time but that he anticipates this will continue, because he knows there is still more to learn and consider.
Studying biblical texts and explaining them cogently to the rest of us seems principally to be the noble work of this good and gifted man’s life, but—it should be quickly added—not to the exclusion of all else. Dr. Wright is an Anglican bishop, a professor, a prolific and accessible author, a husband, a father, and I’m quite sure a great many other superb things. What his lectures reinforced to me was the notion that there’s little in this world as magnetic and marvelous as the sort of excellence that follows from an intelligent and relentlessly-deployed devotion to a single noble aim over a long period of time, a lifetime even.
And of course, it’s the same with our faith more generally. The only time-tested prescription for true discipleship remains the same as it’s ever been—“a long obedience in the same direction,” as another extraordinary Biblical scholar and pastor, the late Eugene Peterson, put it in his book of that name.
Give some thought to what your singular noble aim might be, or if you’re a bit older, try to articulate some language around what it is and what it’s been for you. To name it and continue it forward adds to its meaningfulness, just as to discover it early on is an initial step to living a rich and interesting life.
God—May I be and remain always devoted. Amen.
