How Do You Spell Success?

C. Ray Miller
Bishop, 1973-1993

May 1993

The camera pans to the dugout and there he is, Tommy Lasorda. Suddenly a microphone is shoved into his face and a voice shouts, "Tommy Lasorda, how do you spell relief?" And in that now famous response, he says, "R-O-L-A-I-D-S."

In May, I was privileged to give the baccalaureate address at Huntington College. As I considered what I would tell these young people who were ready to venture into the world and make their mark, I thought it might be good to tell them how I spell success.

Parents, teacher, peers, and others were no doubt hoping they would experience success, but perhaps these graudates were becoming confused by all the different spellings of success.

M-O-N-E-Y. F-A-M-E. H-A-P-P-I-N-E-S-S. M-A-R-R-I-A-G-E.

I gave my own spelling: S-E-R-V-I-C-E.

Not too long ago, I sat in cap-and-gown in the old gymnasium at Huntington College thinking, "I have a lifetime before me." Now I find myself at the end of a career, ready to retire. No one is telling me to be successful anymore. Rather, they are evaluating my years. Some would say that I have been successful because I pastored large churches, my peers elected me to church leadership, I have been published, and I have traveled around the world. Others would say that I have not been successful. After all, I am not nationally known. Really, I'm not even known in Huntington, Indiana. This is Dan Quayle's town, not C. Ray Miller's. I've never written a best-seller...or a worst seller. I am not wealthy, never served in public office, and never won a medal or other great award.

So, am I successful? It depends on how you spell success. And for me, it's spelled S-E-R-V-I-C-E. Service to God, to my family, and to others. Jesus evaluated His years that way. "For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many," he said in Mark 10:45. He dramatically spelled success as SERVICE for his disciples by wrapping a towel around his waist and washing their feet.

Solomon wrote about his great success, yet also described his life as filled with sorrow and lack of contentment. He concludes the book by saying, "Serve God and keep His commandments, for that's all that matters." Solomon's problem was not success or the lack of it, but the way he spelled success. On the other hand, I think of June Brown, who retired this year after spending 35 years as a missionary in Sierra Leone. She could have pursued success as the world spells it. But she knew that true success is spelled S-E-R-V-I-C-E.

I want to tell you one more story.

Billy's dad died when Billy was just five. He and his brother and three sisters lived on food stamps while his mother worked nights scrubbing floors. His family was so poor that Billy worked during high school to help the family eat and pay bills. When this young man graduated from high school, he was determined to find success, which meant a good paying job, a nice home, and no more poverty. Billy found that job--but one night in a small church, God found Billy and called him to a life of service. Others discouraged him when he left for college with no money and little hope of graduating. Some told him that he would never find success in the ministry. But 41 years later, Billy gave the Baccalaureate address at his alma mater.

l lost the name Billy many years ago. Now, people call me Ray. I long since learned the correct spelling of success. My greatest moments of success, in my eyes, involve acts of service such as these:

Sitting beside the hospital bed of a dying church member, helping him and his family deal with the inevitable.
Trudging down snow-covered farm lanes with my family to deliver food baskets to the poor.
Counseling couples through difficult times in their marriages.
Leading someone to Christ and then teaching him how to live like Christ.
Helping churches face pastoral changes, church splits, and terrible tragedies.
Sharing with my son and daughter, encouraging them through their growing years.

After 41 years of a career, those are my greatest moments, and I relish them. Those moments are how I measure success.