In Pursuit of Greatness

Ron Swanson, Timothée Chalamet, and my dad walked into a bar.

Out came this article.

Let’s start with Mr. Chalamet, the brilliant young actor who received a Screen Actors Guild award for his portrayal of Bob Dylan in A Complete Unknown. His acceptance speech caused a stir, not because it was controversial, but because it was so uncommon:

“I know the classiest thing would be to downplay the effort that went into this role and how much this means to me, but the truth is this was five years of my life. I poured everything I had into playing this incomparable artist, Mr. Bob Dylan, a true American hero. It was the honor of a lifetime playing him…

…I can’t downplay the significance of this award. Cause it means the most to me. And I know we’re in a subjective business, but the truth is, I’m really in pursuit of greatness. I know people don’t usually talk like that, but I want to be one of the greats. I’m inspired by the greats. I’m inspired by the greats here tonight. I’m as inspired by Daniel Day-Lewis, Marlon Brando, and Viola Davis as I am by Michael Jordan, Michael Phelps, and I want to be up there. So I’m deeply grateful. This doesn’t signify that, but it’s a little more fuel. It’s a little more ammo to keep going. Thank you so much.”

We’re not used to people admitting that they want to be great.

I appreciate the honesty and drive. Some might see it as prideful, but he demonstrated tons of humility. Not just by acknowledging the greats who came before him, and not just by describing the award as fuel to keep going, acknowledging that he still has a long way to go. 

Pride is acting like you deserved the award and that it came easy. It takes humility to display the vulnerability of letting us know how much you care. And when you plant your flag as someone who desires to be great, you invite the entire world to remind you why you’re not.

These days, it’s not cool to admit that you care or show how much effort you put in.

These days, apathy is seen as a virtue.

It’s not.

Magnanimity, on the other hand, is a virtue. It means “greatness of soul.” It is the virtue by which one pursues what is great and honorable in life, even if it is difficult. The magnanimous person seeks to do great acts that are deserving of honor.

The opposite, I’m afraid, is more of what we commonly see in our culture today.

It’s not cool to try too hard.

The person lacking in magnanimity suffers from a vice called “pusillanimity,” which means “smallness of soul.” The pusillanimous individual shies away from noble, arduous tasks because they are uncomfortable and will demand a lot out of him. He instead pursues the path of least resistance, opting for whatever is easier. (Hat tip to St. Thomas Aquinas and Edward Sri for their insights on this.)

The path of least resistance is always tempting.

It’s easy to settle for good enough.

Greatness is hard.

Of course, greatness and magnanimity are not exclusive to the realms of sports and entertainment. We are called to pursue greatness wherever we find ourselves, even if it’s unlikely to earn us an award or even be noticed at all.

Our family is helping our parish priests convert a spare room in the rectory into a prayer chapel. My dad built the altar for them to use when praying Mass. He put a lot of hours into it, and triumphantly texted me when it was finished.

A few days later, I received another text. This one wasn’t so triumphant. Apparently, he determined that the top was warped and he deemed it unacceptable.

I didn’t see much evidence of the problem in the photo, but he was convinced it needed to be better and decided to redo it.

Ultimately, my dad re-did the top of the altar twice. When he sent me a photo of the finally completed masterpiece, he added these thoughts:

“One thing that I have learned about woodworking: there is a reason for everything. It seems like whenever I face a challenge, mistake, or problem, it always turns out I’ve learned something that helps me somehow down the road. And in the end, I become a better me.”

My dad doesn’t have a blog, but he’s been toying for years with writing a book. Until he does, I guess it’s up to me to pass along gems like these.

Because of course this isn’t just a lesson about woodworking.

It’s a lesson about life.

That’s the result of pursuing greatness, even if you don’t quite reach it: You end up with a better you.

How do you achieve greatness?

Well, it won’t come easy or comfortably, that’s for sure. A strong work ethic appears to be on the endangered list these days. We live in an age of “good enough,” which rarely is.

And it’s not by being sidetracked and distracted by a bunch of other things. Chalamet dedicated five years to his portrayal of Bob Dylan. Likewise, my dad put all other projects he was eager to get to on the back burner to focus on the altar.

As Ron Swanson said, “Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.”

Good advice.

But the first step to achieving greatness is to decide to be great because you’re grateful for all the gifts you’ve been given and you strive to use them the best that you can.

To do any less is a tragic waste of time.

We were not created for comfort but for greatness.