THE FOUNDER OF MODERN BUSINESS

When Jesus was twelve years old his father and mother took him to the Feast at Jerusalem.

It was the big national vacation; even peasant families saved their pennies and looked forward to it through the year. Towns like Nazareth were emptied of their inhabitants except for the few old folks who were left behind to look after the very young ones. Crowds of cheerful pilgrims filled the highways, laughing their way across the hills and under the stars at night.

In such a mass of folk it was not surprising that a boy of twelve should be lost. When Mary and Joseph missed him on the homeward trip, they took it calmly and began a search among the relatives.

The inquiry produced no result. Some remembered having seen him in the Temple, but no one had seen him since. Mary grew frightened: where could he be? Back there in the city alone? Wandering hungry and tired through the friendless streets? Carried away by other travelers into a distant country? She pictured a hundred calamities. Nervously she and Joseph hurried back over the hot roads, through the suburbs, up through the narrow city streets, up to the courts of the Temple itself.

And there he was.

Not lost; not a bit worried. Apparently unconscious that the FFeast was over, he sat in the midst of a group of old men, who were tossing questions at him and applauding the· shrewd common sense of his replies. Involuntarily his parents haltedthey were simple folk, uneasy among strangers and disheveled by their haste. But after all they were his parents, and a very human feeling of irritation quickly overcame their diffidence. Mary stepped forward and grasped his arm.

"Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us?" she demanded. ""Behold thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing."

I wonder what answer she expected to receive. Did she ever know exactly what he was going to say: did anyone in Nazareth quite understand this keen, eager lad, who had such curious moments of abstraction and was forever breaking out with remarks that seemed so far beyond his years?

He spoke to her now with deference, as always, but in words that did not dispel but rather added to her uncertainty.

"How is it that ye sought me?" he asked. "Wist ye not that I must be about my father's business ?"

His father's business, indeed, as if that wasn't exactly where they wanted him to be. His father owned a prosperous carpenter shop in Nazareth, and that was the place for the boy, as he very well knew. She was on the point of saying so, but there was something in his look and tone that silenced her. She and Joseph turned and started out, and Jesus followed them away from the temple and the city back to little Nazareth.

His hour of boyish triumph had not turned his head. He knew how thorough must be his preparation for any really successful work. A building can rise high into the air only as it has sunk its foundations deep into the earth; the part of a man's life which the world sees is effective in proportion as it rests upon solid work which is never seen. Instinctively he knew this. For eighteen years more he was content to remain in that country town-until his strength was at its summit; until he had done his full duty by his mother and the younger children. Until his hour had come.

But what interests us most in this one recorded incident of his boyhood is the fact that for the first time he defined the purpose of his career. He did not say, "Wist ye not that I must practice preaching?" or "Wist ye not that I must get ready to meet the arguments of men like these?" The language was quite different, and well worth remembering. "Wist ye not that I must be about my father's business?" he said. He thought of his life as business. What did he mean by business? To what extent are the principles by which he conducted his business applicable to ours? And if he were among us again, in our highly competitive world, would his business philosophy wwork?

On one occasion, you recall, he stated his recipe for success. IIt was on the afternoon when James and John came to ask him what promotion they might expect. They were two of the most energetic of the lot, called "Sons of Thunder," by the rest, being noisy and always in the midst of some sort of a storm. They had joined the ranks because they liked him, but with no very definite idea of what it was all about; and now they wanted to know where the enterprise was heading, and just what there wwould be in it for them.

"Master," they said, "we want to ask what plans you have in mmind for us. You're going to need big men around you when you establish your kingdom; our ambition is to sit on either side of you, one on your right hand and the other on your left."

Who can object to that attitude? If a man fails to look after himself, certainly no one will look after him. If you want a big place, go ask for it. That's the way to get ahead.

Jesus answered with a sentence which sounds poetically aabsurd.

"Whosoever will be great among you, shall be your minister," he said, "and whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall bbe servant of all."

A fine piece of rhetoric, now isn't it? Be a good servant and you will be great; be the best possible servant and you will occupy the highest possible place. Nice idealistic talk but utterly impractical; nothing to take seriously in a common sense world. That is just what men thought for some hundreds of years; and then, quite suddenly, Business proclaimed in every sales convention as something distinctly modern and up to date. It is emblazoned in the advertising pages of every magazine.

Look through those pages.

Here is the advertisement of an automobile company, one of the greatest in the world. And why is it the greatest? On what does is base its claim to leadership? On it huge factories and financial strength? They are never mentioned. On its army of workmen or its high salaried executives? You might read its advertisements for years without suspecting that it had either. No. "We are great because of our service," the advertisements cry. "We will crawl under your car oftener and get our backs dirtier than any of our competitors. Drive up to our service stations and ask for anything at all--it will be granted cheerfully. We serve; therefore we grow."

A mnufacturer of shoes makes the same boast in other terms. "We put ourselves at your feet and give you everything that you can possible demand." Manufacturers of building equipment, of clothes, of food; presidents of railroads and steamship companies; the heads of banks and investment houses--all of them tell the same story. "Service is what we are here for," they exclaim. They call it the "spirit of modern business"; they suppose, most of them, that it is something very new. But Jesus preached it more than nineteen hundred years ago....

If you're forever thinking about saving your life," Jesus said, "you'll lose it; but the man who loses his life shall find it."

Because he said it and he was a religious teacher, because it's printed in the Bible, the world has dismissed it as high-minded ethics but not hard headed sense. But look again!...

What did Henry Ford mean, one spring morning, when he tipped a kitchen chair back against the whitewashed wall of his tractor plant and talked about his career?

"Have you ever noticed that the man who starts out in life with a determination to make money, never makes very much?" he asked. It was rather a startling question; and without waiting for my comment he went on to answer it: "He may gather together a competence, of course, a few tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands, but he'll never amass a really great fortune. But let a man start out in life to build something better and sell it cheaper than it has ever been built or sold before--let him have that determination, and give his whole self to it--and the money will roll in so fast that it will bury him if he doesn't look out.

"When we were building our original model, do you suppose that it was money we were thinking about? Of course we expected that it would be profitable, if it succeeded, but that wasn't in the front of our minds. We wanted to make a car so cheap that every family in the United States could afford to have one. So we worked morning, noon and night, until our muscles ached and our nerves were so ragged that it seemed as if we just couldn't stand it to hear anyone mention the word automobile again. One night, when we were almost at the breaking point I said to the boys, 'Well, there's one consolation,' I said. 'Nobody can take this business away from us unless he's willing to work harder than we've worked.' And so far," he concluded with a whimsical smile, "nobody has been willing to do that." ...

"Whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile," said Jesus, "go with him twain."

Which means, I take it, "do more than is required of you, do twice as much." Another startling bit of business advice. Where will a man ever get, you ask, if he delivers twice as much as he is paid to deliver? The answer is that unless he's a fool he will probably get to and stay at the top. I remember once traveling from Chicago to New York on the Twentieth Century Limited. We were due in the Grand Central Station at nine forty, a nice leisurely hour, and three of us who were traveling together decided to make a comfortable morning of it. We got out of our berths at a quarter after eight, shaved and dressed and half an hour later were making our way back to the dining car.

A door to one of the drawing-rooms was open, and as we walked by we could hardly keep from looking in. The bed in the room had been made up long since; a table stood between the windows, and at the table, buried in work, was a man whose face the newspapers have made familiar to everyone. He had been Governor of New York, a Justice of the Supreme Court, a candidate for the Presidency of the United States, and was-at the time-practising law and reputed to be earning much more than a hundred thousand dollars a year.

My companions and I were young men; he was well along in middle life. We were poor and unknown; he was rich and famous. We were doing all that was required of us. We were up and dressed and would be ready for business when the train pulled in at a little before ten. But this man, of whom nothing was actually required, was doing far more. I thought to myself as we passed on to Our leisurely breakfast, "That explains him; now I understand Hughes."

I have several times been in the offices of J. P. Morgan and Company after six o'clock in the evening. I remember vividly the mental picture which I once had of what such a private banking house must be-the partners coming down in limousines at eleven and leaving at three, after having given their nonchalant approval to a million dollar deal. But on the occasion of one of the visits to which I refer the offices were closed. The clerks, and assistants and even the elevator men had gone, leaving only night watchmen. Night watchmen, and some of the partners. There seem to be always lights in the partners' offices no matter what the hour. Of the office force it is required that they travel the one mile which lies between nine o'clock in the morning and five o'clock at night. But the partners travel the second mile; have always traveled it all their lives; and are partners because they have ....

So we have the main points of his [Jesus'] business philosophy:

1. Whoever will be great must render great service.

2. Whoever will find himself at the top must be willing to lose himself at the bottom.

3. The big rewards come to those who travel the second, undemanded mile.

Judas would have sneered at all this. Not a bad fellow at heart, he had the virtues and the weaknesses of the small bore business man. He was "hard-boiled," and proud of it; he "looked out for Number One." It was no easy job being treasurer for a lot of idealists, Judas would have you know. He held the bag and gave every cent a good tight squeeze before he let it pass. When the grateful woman broke her box of costly ointment over Jesus' feet the other disciples thought it was fine, but he knew better. "Pretty wasteful business," he grumbled to himself. The big talk of the others about "thrones" and "kingdoms" and "victory" did not fool him; he could read a balance sheet, and he knew that the jig was up. So he made his private little deal with the priests, probably supposing that Jesus would be arrested, reproved and warned not to preach in Jerusalem again. "I will get mine and retire," he said to himself. Said Jesus, "I, if I be lifted up (on the cross; that is to say, if I lose my life) will draw all men to me." Each made his decision and received his reward. .

We have quoted some men of conspicuous success, but the same sound principles apply to every walk of life. Great progress will be made in the world when we rid ourselves of the idea that there is a difference between work and religious work. We have been taught that a man's daily business activities are selfish, and that only the time which he devotes to church meetings and social service activities is consecrated. Ask any ten people what Jesus meant by his "Father's business," and nine of them will answer "preaching." To interpret the words in this narrow sense is to lose the real significance of his life. It was not to preach that he came into the world; nor to teach; nor to heal. These are all departments of his Father's business, but the business itself is far larger, more inclusive. For if human life has any significance it is this-that God has set going here an experiment to which all His resources are committed. He seeks to develop perfect human beings, superior to circumstance, victorious over Fate. No single kind of human talent or effort can be spared if the experiment is to succeed. The race must be fed and clothed and housed and transported, as well as preached to, and taught and healed. Thus all business is his Father's business. All work is worship; all useful service prayer. And whoever works wholeheartedly at any worthy calling is a co-worker with the Almighty in the great surprise which He has initiated but which He can never finish without the help of men ....

The Gospel story puts the dramatic climax into a single sentence:

Jesus, therefore, perceiving that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, withdrew again into the mountain himself alone.

In that hour of crisis he proved his right to be the silent partner in every modern business; to sit at the head of every directors' table. There is no mere theorizing in his words; he speaks out of what he himself has proved. If he says that a man's work is more eternally important than any title, he has a right to speak. He himself refused the highest title. If he says that there are things more vital than merely making money, let no one question his authority. He was handed the wealth of a nation and handed it back again. Idealist he is, but there is nothing in the whole hard world so practical as his ideals. "There is a success which is greater than wealth or titles," he says. "It comes through making your work an instrument of greater service, and larger living to your fellow men and Women. This is my Father's business and he needs your help."

He told one business story which should be published every year in all magazines of business, all trade papers, all house organs. It concerned a certain rich man whose enterprises prospered beyond all his expectations. His land "brought forth plentifully," so much so that he said to himself: "What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits?"

And he said: "This will I do; I will pull down my barns and build greater; and there wil1 I bestow all my fruits and my goods."

And I will say to my soul, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink and, be merry."

But God said, "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee."

The poor fool had regarded his business as nothing but a means of escape from business. He had hoarded his wealth, denying every generous impulse; spent his health, forfeiting every chance for wholesome enjoyment; sacrificed the joy of living for a selfish satisfaction that he hoped was coming when he had made his pile. And Fate laughed in his face. He thought he had provided for every contingency, but the one great Event which is always unexpected came like .a thief in the night and found him unprepared. . . .

With that business anecdote should be published another, which is also a tragedy. It concerns the little hotel in Bethlehem, "the inn."

The mother of Jesus of Nazareth knocked at its doors and could not come in. It might have sheltered the greatest event in human history, and it lost its chance.

Why? Why was Jesus born in a stable? Because the people in the inn were vicious or hostile? Not in the least. The inn was full, that was all; every room was taken by folk who had affairs to attend to and money to spend. It was busy.

There was no "room in the inn."

Men's lives are sometimes like that inn.

You know a man whose heart is broken because his son is a fool. Yet deep within himself he knows that the fault is his own. All through the formative years of the boy's development, he never gave him any time. Not that he didn't love the boy; but he was busy. There was no room for family life; and his son is a fool.

You know men whose health is gone; men whose taste for reading and music and art is gone. Men who have literally no interests in life beyond the office, which has become a mere treadmill whereon their days are ground away.

In the process of being successful they have sacrificed success. Never once forgetting themselves they have forgotten everything else. This is not Jesus' idea of what a life should be. He, who refused to turn aside from his business to become a king, was never too busy to turn aside for a sick man, a friend, a little child. He never forgot that one night his mother had stood on a threshold where there was no welcome.

The threshold of the little inn in Bethlehem. It was so busy that the greatest event in history knocked at its doors--and could not come in.