It's a Wonderful Ordinary Life: Why to Beware Ambition

(This post was originally published at the blog Grass People. Read it at https://aworldofgrasspeople.blogspot.com/2017/12/its-wonderful-ordinary-life-why-to.html.)

Alright, I want your gut reaction. When I say the word “ambition,” what is your first thought? What picture forms in your mind? Now, really quick, tell me if you’d call ambition a virtue. In other words, is ambition something good to have, according to your mental image? Don’t cheat.

Now hold that thought.

If you’re like most of your fellow 21st century Americans, the picture that came to your mind was probably of someone you could describe as hungry and restless to make a difference. This person is ready to do something big in the world, to leave a mark, to become a figure history can be proud of. You probably saw the ambition this fellow has as something worth envying. After all, he’s going to be the one who will make his life worth something. He’s the kind of person who makes you feel like all you do is boring, everyday things that no one will care about in a year. So yes, you say, ambition is a virtue because, “look where it brought that guy.”

Like I said, this seems to be the prevailing picture of ambition today. It seems pretty positive overall. But what if I told you that, according to the traditional view of the trait, ambition is actually a vice?

According to one of the books I’ve been reading recently in the in-between moments of life, the concept of ambition once communicated something that was dangerous, even evil. In fact, ambition was actually something that even the Greek philosophers warned against. As Michael Horton explains in the book, “[Ambition] did not mean drive or initiative. It meant putting oneself forward, as in an election, but in a spirit of rivalry that is not beneath resorting to unscrupulous tactics.”

Later, he cites a couple uses of the word “ambition” in the Bible. One of these uses appears in James 3, where the author writes, “[I]f you have … selfish ambition [eritheia] in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth” (James 3:16, italics mine). As Horton explains, older English versions translate the word eritheia as simply “ambition” rather than “selfish ambition.” The modifier (“selfish”), he says, “would have been considered redundant, like talking about ‘cold ice.’ Ambition was selfish by definition. The fact that our modern translations feel obliged to add ‘selfish’ points out the change in our culture’s evaluation of this attribute.”

In essence, history teaches us that ambition naturally turns inward, towards oneself and one’s own desires. This is not just true according to the traditional use of the word. It also applies to the more positive concept of “ambition” that we have today. All too often, the very drive to do things better or achieve some new level of influence stems from a desire to lift ourselves up.

That’s not to say that good things can’t come from ambition. But we already know that, right? This culture doesn’t need to hear about the benefits of ambition. After all, most of us can probably think of some popular Christian author or speaker or musician whose ambition to make or do something “big” has affected us and led to our deeper understanding of the gospel.

But you can probably think of a lot more people who, through ordinary acts, have affected you even more. These people and their ordinary acts have given us the most tangible lessons in gospel grace of anyone. You can probably even think of people who gave up their ambitions for the sake of ordinary things, only to find that they’ve actually done something big in the lives of others. These people are the mothers, teachers, friends, and fathers of the world, not the celebrities or the CEOs. But they were bigger in your life than any famous person.

Just look at the character of George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life. While watching the film this winter, I noticed for the first time the strength of George’s personal ambitions. They’re all dreams about what he’s going to make of himself someday. But life keeps on getting in the way of his goals. In almost every choice he makes throughout the movie, he has to decide between pursuing his ambitions or serving the people he loves. And, generally, he chooses to sacrifice his ambitions for the good of others.

Although some characters, especially Mr. Potter, see all of the potential George has put to waste by choosing a life in Bedford Falls, we see the beauty of his sacrificial decisions. When George gets a chance to see what his little world would have been like if he had never been born, we recognize that portions of this alternate reality still would have come true if he had left Bedford Falls. We see that the pursuit of his dreams of “seeing the world” and of building mile-long bridges would have indirectly led to the transformation of Bedford Falls into the horrible “Pottersville” of the alternate reality. In his small circle of influence, George’s preference of ambition would have led to the moral and economic collapse of his fictional town.

Even though George gives up his grand ambitions of making a million dollars and building big things, in the end he learns that pursuing the ordinary tasks of penny-pinching and building simple homes for poor families made him the “richest man in town.”

Hollywood and the world of books have plenty more stories like this one that speak to the same truth: sometimes it’s the simple and ordinary things in life that make the biggest difference.

Consider that next time you’re faced with a big life decision. If pursuing your grand ambitions will prevent you from doing the simple and ordinary things of life well, then they’re not worth pursuing. Sometimes these grand things in life get in the way of what’s truly important. And, as Clarence the angel teaches the small-town hero George Bailey, we must never underestimate the worth of our simple and ordinary selves.