The world’s rugby fraternity, on and off the field, watched with suspended emotion last winter. 

Kurtley Beale lined up for a penalty goal after the final siren in the first Wallabies V Lions Test. The instant he hit the ball, as sweet as, with his right foot, his left foot slid from underneath him. The ball went strait, but short, and the rest is history, as they say.

What is the difference between success and failure? 

Or between honour and humiliation? Happiness and heartbreak? Dream and nightmare? Even celebration and calamity?

Some would say, savagely little. No more than a banana peel. Just ask Kurtley Beale. Or talk to Robby Deans. Even the two Rickys, Stuart and Ponting. Russell and Robert and their rigor-mortis rabbits may also have an opinion on the matter.

If you think coming second is a mark of success, just look at the body language of losing grand final teams, or runners up in any two team tussle. Even bronze medalists are said to be happier than silver medalists at the Olympics.

The difficulty that many, once feted, famous sporting names are having adjusting to life after limelight is well documented. At some stage we all have to adjust to the realities of failure, mediocrity and anonymity.

“Do you know who I am?” demanded the once famous prime minister in the foyer of the aged care facility because he felt slighted that he wasn’t being given the immediate attention he deserved.

“Sir, if you go to reception I’m sure they’ll be able to tell you who you are,” responded the busy and annoyed nurse.

Sports people, actors and politicians aren’t the only people who struggle with this, whatever it is (I’m sure there’s a syndrome named for it). Has-beens, Could’ve-beens and Wanna-be’s from every walk of life struggle with life after success and life without success.

The issue begs the question, “Is there virtue in mediocrity and anonymity?” Could we even ask, “Is there a theology of mediocrity?” 

Are these questions not worth pondering in today’s climate where the prosperity gospel and triumphalist expectations are rampant in our churches?

The reality is that everyone most of the time and most all of the time live between a Kurtley Beale banana peel and the sweet smell of success. Between the extremes of success and failure, honour and humiliation, happiness and heartbreak etc etc.  

Bumping, bungling and bumbling along somewhere in the bowels of the bell-curve with the rest of humanity. 

A theology of fiscal mediocrity?

Can there be any virtue in fiscal fifty/fifty? Would we dare to suggest a theology of monetary mediocrity? Is the Bible suggesting that we aspire to the lower middle class?

The wise one prays:

    Two things I ask of you O Lord;
    do not refuse me before I die.
    Keep falsehood and lies far from me;
    give me neither poverty nor riches,
    but give me only my daily bread.
    Otherwise I might have too much 
     and disown you, and say, 
    “Who is the Lord?” 
    Or I might become poor and steal, 
    and so dishonour the name of the Lord.   

(Proverbs 30:7-9)

Oops, it’s a bit late for me to pray that prayer. I discovered recently that my modest clergy stipend puts me in the top 1% of wealthy people in the world. What should my prayer be?

A theology of social mediocrity?

Socialites and celebrities should, by very definition, have a life full of friends, tried and true and trustworthy.

But why do so many of them come to the end of their life feeling so lonely? And why do some of them bring on the end of their lives in such sad, lonely and self-inflicted deaths?

Is the person with over a thousand facebook friends any happier than the person with less than a hundred?

And why is God telling us these things about friendship?:

    A friend loves at all times,
    and a brother is born for adversity.
    (Proverbs 17:17)

    A man of many companions may come to ruin,
    but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.
    (Proverbs 18:24)

    Wounds from a friend can be trusted,
    but an enemy multiplies kisses.
    (Proverbs 27:6)

A theology of spiritual mediocrity

Spiritual mediocrity!? It almost sounds like blasphemy. But is God only at work in the spectacular and sensational? Or is he more at work in the ordinary, mundane, mediocrity and anonymity of grinding through each blessed day?

An excitable young believer told a wise old Puritan that God had been powerfully at work in his life that day because on his journey over he avoided injury after his horse threw him, was spared grievous harm when he fought off a band of highwaymen and survived death in a terrible storm with lightning flashing all around him. The elder told him that the Lord had been powerfully at work in his life that day as well. 

“How so?” quizzed the young man, incredulous that his story of miraculous providence could be bested.

“Absolutely nothing,” said the senior saint. “I’ve been quietly praying and working in my study all day.”

With good reason the Lord tells us: 

    To pray for all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness (1 Timothy 2:2).

William Carey challenged: 

    Expect great things from God. Attempt great things for God. 

 

Whilst not despising such a call to arms it may also be good to consider: 

    Expect small things from God. Attempt small things for God.

It may be in the small things of saying our daily prayers, speaking of our Savior’s love, serving our neighbour’s needs and sending our sacrificial gifts that we understand life’s true value.

Perhaps this is not a theology of mediocrity at all, but one of contentment.

For the Apostle Paul knew the meaning of financial contentment (Philippians 4:10-13). He also knew the meaning of social contentment (2 Timothy 4:9-18) and the meaning of spiritual contentment (Philippians 1:21).

And above all the Lord Jesus led the way in such discipline (John 4:34).

Is it mediocrity or contentment? Whatever it is, here’s a way forward:

Enjoy small successes, but always sobered by the words of  Psalm 39:4-6:

   Show me, O Lord, my life’s end
    and the number of my days;
    let me know how fleeting is my life.

    You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
    the span of my years is as nothing before you.
    Each man’s life is but a breath.

    Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro:
    He bustles about, but only in vain;
    he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it.

Explore frequent failures, learning their lessons and leaning on the promise of Jesus:

 Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30).

Feature photo: Jason Milich