The Problem with Excellence

The Denver Post ran a headlining story this last week about a local Christian high school accused of illegally recruiting athletes to their sports teams. This particular school, one of the three wealthy, large Christian private high schools in Denver, has won numerous state championships in its first years of existence. And many rival high school coaches have been infuriated that some of their best athletes have left to attend this school. Reportedly, after this school’s one (and only) track meet, the illegal recruiting was so obvious they were banned from having any more. After hearing such accusations, the head of school pleaded not-guilty, delcaring, “We are not apologetic. It’s good for Colorado.”

Whether or not these accusations are true is not my interest. What is of interest to me is their school motto: influence through excellence. This motto has raised a $90 million dollar campus in only a few years, recruited nearly 1000 new students…and made schools across the state furious with their recruiting practices. It has also caused several parents and coaches from neighboring schools to question this school’s “Christian morals.” My question is this: is “influence through excellence” a genuinely Christian idea?

The argument for “excellence” as a Christian idea generally goes something like this: loving God with all your heart, strength and soul means doing everything with excellence. We ought to be “first-in-class” in our service to God. Now, apparently the idea of “influence through excellence” means that if we are excellent in what we do, from the classroom to the football field, other people will take a look at our religion and take note. Therefore, we need the very best football team, buildings, and college entrance scores. This will convince people of the truth of our cause.

I don’t think this is true. Let me mention at least two reasons, both stemming from the nature of “excellence.” First, excellence in inherently competitive. For me to be excellent, that means I have to be better than you. If there is no comparison, then there can be no “excellence.” This competitiveness implies I, or my tribe, will excel, and we will be superior to you. It implies a climbing of the societal ladder to the top rungs, whereby we will be “on top” through our achievement.

Second, the motto “influence through excellence” suggests that when we get to the top (excellence), we will be able to have influence on the powerful people in society, whether in government, business, media or education. The strategy is simple: excel, and then influence important people.

The Christian gospel moves in directly the opposite direction.

Consider the incarnation. Jesus, the high King of heaven, the one “who did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,” took on the very nature of a servant. The “Great I am,” the Alpha and the Omega, humbled himself and took on human flesh. It was the very opposite of “moving up the ranks;” it was the great “moving down.” The Creator himself became a baby.

Moreover, when Jesus was on earth, he did not choose to live among the rich and the powerful. He lived with a poor, Galilean family. Even to the end of his life, he had no property, no treasure, and not even a proper home. Instead of seeking accommodation with the rich and powerful, he confronted the power structures of his day by exposing their evil on the cross.

The Christian gospel suggests a fundamentally different way of interacting with people than that suggested by “influence through excellence.” One is competitive, seeking superiority over others. The other is inherently cooperative, seeking the good of others. One moves its way up in society; the other moves down for the sake of the poor, hungry, and oppressed. One is the way of the world, getting my own. One is the way of grace, giving all as has been given to me.

The idea that real influence comes when we get to the top of the game is deeply flawed. Real influence, according to the gospel, comes when we move to the bottom of the game, leave our own ambitions behind, and start living for the good of others.

This is not to say that the gospel suggests we should do things poorly. On the contrary, we should do everything as if we were working for Christ himself (Col. 3:22-23). Hard work in service of Christ should be the norm. Providing an “excellent” quality of education should be the goal of all schools (as it is a part of my own school’s goals). But the heart of competition, I would argue, is bitter envy and selfish ambition, a worldly wisdom that comes from below (James 3:14-15). And the fruit of this wisdom is “disorder and every evil practice” (James 3:16). Perhaps “every evil practice” might even include take star athletes from other schools.

A good friend of mine preached this past Sunday on Mary’s Song, known as the Magnificat. Mary, the servant of the Lord, burst into song upon hearing God would give her a son: “He [God] has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble” (Luke 1:51-52). It is a terrible thing to be filled with pride before the Lord of Hosts; but it is a joyful thing to be in need of grace, and to be not to be a ruler, but a servant.

There is a problem with the ethic of excellence for Christians. Christ knows service, not ambition; he knows love of others, not the honor of human kings. Christ is surely a mighty king - but he reigns from a cross.

There will be a great test in the coming weeks. The temptation will be for other Christian schools to glory in the bad press of this particular school. After all, they’ve all lost students, parents, and even teachers, to this school. The test will be in Jesus’ words: “Love your enemies, and pray for those who mistreat you.” In doing this will Christians find true distinction.