Barry Rowan
16 min read ⭑
“I thought achievement would fill the deep longing within me that only God can fill. The world screams that we are what we do, but the deeper truth is that what we do is an expression of who we are. Gratefully, as these disordered loves are brought into their proper priority, I can rejoice in seeing things done well, knowing I am not what I achieve.”
QUESTION #1: ACQUAINT
There’s much more to food than palate and preference. How does a go-to meal at your favorite hometown restaurant reveal the true you behind the web bio?
I’d like to invite you for a lunch of Pad Thai in the Mt. Zirkel Wilderness area outside of Steamboat Springs, Colorado.
Why Pad Thai? I could eat Asian food four days a week. I’ve had the privilege of journeying to 49 countries through personal and business travel, including many trips to Asia. The Pad Thai cooked on my JetBoil backpacking stove may not be quite as delicately flavored as in Asia or Seattle, where we used to live, but freeze-dried food has become very respectable.
Why the Zirkel Wilderness area, and why now? Fall is my favorite time of year here. The aspens are a blaze of gold complemented by the deep, red hues of the brush along the stream. The air is crisp, and the cloudless blue sky brightens the 10,000-foot peaks across the alpine valley. I’ve come to call this place the valley of shalom. Everything is in right relationship.
When I’m in nature, I see my true nature. Everything is congruent with the divine design. The stream follows the laws of gravity as it meanders peacefully across the slightly tilted valley floor with no trace of rebellion. Trees burned by a fire decades ago unselfishly give new life through their death. The majestic mountains are humbly shaped by the harsh winds of winter and the rushing waters of the melting snow in the welcome spring. We are designed with this beauty in mind.
In this solitude, I also discover that I’m not alone. Nature is continually communicating. It conveys peace, majesty, and humility. Strength, harmony, and seasons. It is beauty, balance, perfection, and joy. There is an absence of worry. It is unhurried but active. It reveals a mosaic of diversity as each element of nature lives into its distinctive design.
The harmony of nature also reveals the disharmony in me. As I sit in this place of peace, it reveals the places in me that are not. Parts of me live outside the valley of shalom. There are swamplands of fear and anguish. There are regions of untamed wilderness. There are scarred hills eroded by betrayed trust. The Dead Sea is there, made lifeless by a poisonous concentration of pain pouring into it with no outlet. My stubbornness stands in contrast to the humility of the free-flowing water. Rags of tattered relationships blow from the branches of the trees.
As my eyes begin to see these truths in me, freedom and peace begin to settle over the land.
I’m glad our Maker has joined us for lunch today.
Chris Holder; Unsplash
QUESTION #2: REVEAL
We’ve all got quirky proclivities and out-of-the-way interests. So what are yours? What so-called “nonspiritual” activities do you love and help you find spiritual renewal?
There’s nothing like skiing in 18 inches of “champagne powder” through the aspen glades of Mount Werner with our two sons. We arrive for “first tracks,” and the crystalline powder at 15 degrees floats into our nostrils and over our heads as we float through the turns around the trees. Involuntary whoops escape through our smiling faces as we share these gulps of ecstasy.
But it’s bigger than this. The wind on my face and the freedom of falling into the arms of gravity brings me close to God. The creatures playing in the creation surely prompt an equally broad smile on the face of our onlooking Creator. “How ‘bout them mountains?” he might ask.
I had the extraordinary privilege of going heli-skiing with a group of friends just before I turned 40. It was my wife’s birthday present to me before my legs turned to mush. (Although our sons are recently suggesting we do this together before I turn 70—a much more unavoidable mushing period.)
We skied runs named “Better than Sex”, and I counted myself doing 76 turns in a row down a 4,000-foot vertical run of pure powder. Traversing a massive snowfield with blue icefalls cascading below, my friend Peter, who had helped organize the trip, yelled from behind me, “This is better than church!”
The vastness reveals my smallness. Here, I experience the expansiveness of a Creator who contains the entire universe within his being. I also understand and believe more deeply that the one who could speak prophecies foretelling events a thousand years before they occur is wonderfully in charge of an unfolding story. I am but a puny speck in the progression of your plans, dear Lord.
Initially, this perspective creates tinges of fear and an uncomfortable vulnerability. This tiny droplet of water in the ocean is carried along by winds and is jostled by waves over which I have no control. I am subject to forces of a strength infinitely exceeding my own.
Yet there’s a tenderness and intimacy in this strength. Its infinity fills both the vastness and the tiniest crevices of my being. It numbers the hairs on our heads.
I’m the feathery seed detached by a gentle fall breeze from the pod of a plant growing alongside the trail to Mica Lake. We may not know where the breath of this Spirit comes from or where it’s going, but we worship a purposeful God. I will offer no resistance to the wind that pushes me across the plain to bloom wherever I land.
QUESTION #3: CONFESS
Every superhero has a weakness. Every human, too. We’re just good at faking it. But who are we kidding? We’re broken and in this thing together. So what’s your kryptonite and how do you hide it?
I spent the first 45 years of my life constructing and then worshiping the idol of achievement. This ersatz god ruled from a throne hidden in the murky shadows painted by the applause of our culture. Although I endured the flagellations of this unnamed god for decades, it would take the greatest failure of my life to reveal the god that had so craftily climbed onto the throne outside of my sight.
After successfully transforming and selling our previous company for $700 million, I joined a large-scale start-up doing business in Brazil. The company had won the license to compete with the incumbent phone company by committing to build out service in 80 cities in two years, and we raised $2.5 billion and hired 4,000 people to do the job. The company shot out of the starting gate as we put on 500,000 customers in the first 10 months. It was the fastest-growing company of its kind in the world. The stock price tripled. We filed to go public. And we turned away investors who desperately wanted to get into the deal.
And then…
The capital markets crashed. Some cracks showed up in the operations, and I was recruited by the shareholders to move to Brazil to lead the company. We ultimately had to turn off service to 40% of the customers as they couldn’t pay their bills and were forced to lay off nearly 40% of the employees to save the company. We restructured the debt and were able to sell the business—but at a great loss to the investors, including our family.
Yet the pain of the business failure paled in comparison to the spiritual anguish that tormented me as my bodyguard drove me through Rio and Sao Paulo in a bulletproof car. It took this outsized failure to realize I had made achievement my god.
In retrospect, I had the input and the output pipes hooked up backward. I thought achievement would fill the deep longing within me that only God can fill. The world screams that we are what we do, but the deeper truth is that what we do is an expression of who we are. Gratefully, as these disordered loves are brought into their proper priority, I can rejoice in seeing things done well, knowing I am not what I achieve.
QUESTION #4: FIRE UP
Tell us about your toil. How are you investing your professional time right now? What’s your obsession? And why should it be ours?
I am passionate about catalyzing people who seek to live fully for God in the world. My call has been to work in the harshness and challenges of the world of business, yet I see this call not as a destroyer of our faith but as an expression of it. The genius of God’s design is that he accomplishes his work in our souls and in the world simultaneously, and he does it through the ordinary experiences of our lives. My career has been the crucible for the formation of my soul. God has used my work to do his work in me, and I long to see others experience God’s work in their lives and world as I have.
I struggled deeply over the question of meaning in work—from the time of choosing a major in college until my late 30s. I’d been so wrong for so long that God had to take me through a succession of fundamental paradigm shifts to rebuild my perspective on the right foundation.
My own struggle and seeing so many others wrestle with the same questions impelled me to write The Spiritual Art of Business: Connecting the Daily with the Divine, which was just released in September. But this book is not just for business people. My hope is that anyone who feels called to live fully for God in the world will benefit from it. This includes gig workers, stay-at-home moms, people in medicine, construction workers, teachers, and people called to business.
I don’t really view this as a book but rather as an invitation to enter into a conversation with God. The 40 short chapters are grounded in Scripture, include illustrations of my own foibles, and conclude with reflection questions. I extend the invitation with the hope that those who accept it will develop a life-giving perspective of their work as seen through the eyes of God.
QUESTION #5: BOOST
Cashiers, CEOs, contractors, or customer service reps, we all need grace flowing into us and back out into the world. How does the Holy Spirit invigorate your work? And how do you know it’s God when it happens?
As we just discussed, this question is so important and confounds so many of us that I wrote an entire volume on it. The increasing free flow of the Spirit into me, through me, and into the world came more through a defining season of wrestling than a single defining moment. In retrospect, it was birthed out of a confusion that would last 17 years.
The primary source of the progression of my work from drudgery to gift came from an understanding of congruence and connectedness. When I began to see the alignment and connective tissue between what I’m doing in the present moment (any moment) and my purpose in life, I was set free to run down the path laid before me.
For me, surrender is the gateway to this freedom because it gives our gracious God permission to do his work in us. As we submit to the strong but loving thumbs of the Potter, he will transform us into new creations and then transform the world through us.
I had so many things wrong. First, I was looking at life and my work from the outside in rather than the inside out. I listened to the culture whispering its insidious lie that if I just got the right job, I’d be satisfied. I spent years looking for jobs I thought would be better than the one I had. I spent the first 10 years of my career wondering about what I should do for my career. It took me years to realize God alone can fill our deepest longing because this longing is for him.
As we become emptied of ourselves and more filled with him, everything we do becomes an expression of “Christ in us”—from loving our families to serving the world.
This wrong-headed, outside-in orientation to my life created a devastating corollary in my career, which finally surfaced as the central distortion of my perspective: I was trying to derive meaning from my work rather than bring meaning to my work. And God’s perspective of our work is the source of its ultimate meaning.
With John the Baptist, we become less so that the Spirit of the living God can become more in us, allowing goodness to flow from him alone who is good.
This transformed understanding of work clarified through tears, trials, and anguishing confusion has animated and energized my work life in the 25 years since.
As I pursue an “encore calling” at age 66, it’s dramatically different from launching a career at 26. Then, it was striving. Now, it’s abiding. With deep gratitude and freedom, I seek to live fully in the present moment, trusting God to unfold my life as he sees fit.
QUESTION #6: inspire
Scripture and tradition beckon us into the rich and varied actions that open our hearts to the presence of God. So spill it, which spiritual practice is workin’ best for you right now?
I’m like a tree with roots and leaves. My time alone with God is the taproot sinking down deep to absorb the living water. This time fills me and restores me. The leaves are the expression of the things learned in solitude. Without the roots seeking and finding this living water, the leaves would be a pale green, lifeless and limp. But without the leaves, I’d turn into a potato—a tuber living underground, alone and in the dark.
The desert fathers gained great spiritual insight living in solitude in the early centuries of Christianity. Equally ardent followers who came after them concluded that it’s hard to learn to love our neighbors when there are no neighbors around. These parallel the roots and leaves for me.
Time alone with God restores me. In solitude, I learn that I’m not alone. I start my day by spending one to two hours alone with God, and I recently completed the one thing on my bucket list—to do a month-long silent retreat.
But it didn’t start out this way. My time alone with God began 30 years ago with spending 10 minutes a day reading The Upper Room. It began as a discipline, grew into a craving, and is now a responsibility. Initially, I had to force myself to do the 10 minutes a day. As I got to know God more, I longed to be together. Do we have to discipline ourselves and crank up our will to go out to dinner with our spouse or people we enjoy? Of course not. We look forward to it. I cherish being with God and the deepening intimacy that grows out of spending time together.
Carving out time to be alone with God has since grown into a responsibility because if I don’t do it, I’m out of whack with the world. Linda loves coffee. But she gratefully chooses not to give up coffee for Lent as it would be hard on those of us around her. Not spending time alone with God also makes me harder to live with. I feel uncentered, off balance, less at peace, and more apt to let the little things get under my skin.
Ninety percent of my time alone with God is spent listening. I’ve come to call it the Prayer of Immersion. I immerse myself in God, Scripture, and my current circumstances. God is the great I AM, and I must meet him just as I am. Buck naked. Coming with my true feelings and desires, inappropriate as they may be. The conversation with God often starts in the place of my unrest. In my confusion, my anger, my frustration with a challenging relationship, or an unspoken fear. God performs an archaeological dig on these feelings, which often reveals a spiritual infrastructure undergirding my ungodliness, hidden under the sands of my soul.
The first step on the path to holiness is a recognition of our unholiness. This is the place where the Great Physician makes house calls, bringing his bag with his most acute and loving care.
This recent month alone with God was the most profound and life-giving month of my life. Many times, I sensed God saying, “Thank you for giving me this space to love you so deeply. I want to love you with a bold and everlasting love.”
The retreat center where I spent this time is set on 200 acres in the foothills of Colorado. The barbed-wire fence surrounding the property included two gates. One faced inward toward the mountains while the other faced outward with the city of Denver visible through the gate. The first was the Gate through which God would lead me beyond the sacred veil into the kingdom of total forgiveness and infinite love. The second was an invitation to live the love of God I experienced in the retreat in the routine of daily life in the world.
My interior life animates my exterior life. The invisible is expressed through the visible.
QUESTION #7: FOCUS
Our email subscribers get free ebooks featuring our favorite resources—lots of things that have truly impacted our faith lives. But you know about some really great stuff, too. What are three resources that have impacted you?
Some years ago, I read a quote by C.S. Lewis saying, “I am the product of endless books.” I realized I was, too, but I had underappreciated the role of authors in my life.
So I went to my bookshelves and made a list of spiritually impactful books, putting them in an Excel spreadsheet (of course) in the order I had remembered reading them. I was blown away. There were approximately 150 books on the list at the time, and the progression was a proxy for my spiritual journey. It began with Mere Christianity and went through apologetics as I wrestled with the question of whether God exists and who Jesus is, followed by the mystics and books on how to pray, and most recently, included many “true novels.”
The right books seemed to show up in my life at just the right time. As the proverb says, “When the pupil is ready, the teacher will appear.” Many of the books were written decades or centuries ago. My wife calls them “my dead friends.” Indeed, they are.
So here are three specific resources that have impacted my faith life.
First, a book, of course—Abandonment to Divine Providence by Jean-Pierre de Caussade. My spiritual director suggested this to me during the time I was going through the colossal failure in Brazil that I mentioned earlier.
The essential idea of this book is that every moment is charged with the presence of God and contains everything we need to achieve our purpose in life. As a planner, I lived by the admonitions to “plan your work and work your plans” and to “start with the end in mind.” This book confronted me with the question, “Are you willing to live fully for God in the present moment and let him unfold the pattern of your life as he sees fit?” Through a painful call to the next level of surrender, I finally said yes, and it led me to a level of freedom I’d never known. This book inverted my perspective of time.
The second resource I would suggest is to dedicate meaningful chunks of time to be alone with God. I did my first eight-day silent retreat at the Jesuit Retreat Center in Los Altos, California. It was life changing. It was there that I learned that God alone can fill our deepest longings. The only real requirement is to carve out the time and to go with an open mind and a receptive heart.
My third suggestion comes from God’s question to Moses: “What is in your hand?”
One of the most important gifts we’ve been given is our friends. My wife, Linda, and I have been married for 42 years and moved 16 times. She is, of course, one of my dearest friends, my “partner for life” in both senses of the phrase. I encourage you not to underestimate the power of friendship with this closest neighbor. Throughout most of those moves to new cities, I also sought out a group of guys to walk together. The spiritual life is a team sport. I’ve found great encouragement, challenge, and companionship along the journey with the friends God brings our way.
We all have things we cling to to survive (or thrive) in tough times. Name one resource you’ve found indispensable in this current season—and tell us what it’s done for you.
The Pray As You Go app. It is a 10- to 13-minute daily meditation built around the liturgical calendar. Linda and I both start our prayer time every day by listening to the wonderfully British voices introduce the day, play a song, read the day’s Scripture, and pose questions to help us meet the Word where we are. It is based on the centuries-old practice of lectio divina (divine reading). I’ve found it a beautiful way to enter into Scripture and to catalyze Scripture entering me.
QUESTION #8: dream
God is continually stirring new things in each of us. So give us the scoop! What’s beginning to stir in you but not yet fully awakened? What can we expect from you in the future?
What if we all lived more fully for God? What if our fallen nature was lifted to the heights for which we were originally designed? What if we became less so God could become more in us and in the world?
Lives would have meaning and purpose. We would be filled with joy and gratitude. Families would live in harmonious authenticity. Relationships would be mended. Businesses would serve with excellence and treat employees with the dignity and respect befitting of beings made in God’s image. Government leaders would seek to advance the common good in a pluralistic society. The world would be less prickly.
I’m too much of a realist to believe that this seamless kingdom of God will come before the establishment of “the new heaven and the new earth,” but we can nudge it in this direction. We can look at how many loaves we have and place them in our dear Lord’s hands to multiply them.
After recently concluding a 40-year career helping to build or turn around eight businesses, Linda and I are now pursuing what we call an “encore calling.” Like the loaves, we see ourselves in the hands of Jesus—invited, blessed, broken, and given. We see this season as an act of total generosity reflected in multiple lines of service. These include walking with the poor, serving on corporate and nonprofit boards, writing, speaking, teaching, and offering “holistic accompaniment” to leaders. The Spiritual Art of Business is an initial expression of this next leg of the adventure with God.
While I can see directionally where our lives seem headed, I have no idea where we will ultimately go. My human nature enters this season with interleaved periods of standing on tiptoes and hiding in the closet. It offers new opportunities to trust. To “watch and pray.” Adapting to things as they unfold rather than crafting a future by my will. Focusing on goodness and faithfulness over achievement and accolades. Taking the next step in leading as a follower.
While there are twinges of trepidation, the overarching sentiment is excitement and energy. I hope you will join me in peering over the precipice to catch glimpses of God manifest in his people and in the world.
God’s desire to use us doesn’t end when we reach retirement age.
In a society that prioritizes fun and relaxation in retirement, it’s easy to forget that we can—and should—pursue God’s call on our lives long after we stop working our full-time jobs.
Famed evangelist Billy Graham set a beautiful example of this truth. Using a walker to make his way to the podium, he preached his last public sermon to a crowd of 60,000 at 86 years old. He spent his final 13 years of life interceding for God’s will to be done on earth.
Billy Graham retired from public ministry, but he never retired spiritually. Instead, he sought to fulfill God’s purpose for him until his final breath. May we do the same.
Barry Rowan is a Harvard Business School graduate who spent 40 years in a range of C-Suite roles building or transforming eight businesses, including four public companies. Six out of those eight companies were successful, with one selling for $10 billion. He and Linda, his wife of 42 years, are now pursuing an “encore calling” reflected in multiple lines of service, including serving on corporate and nonprofit boards, walking with the poor, writing, speaking, teaching, and “holistic accompaniment” of leaders. You can learn more and engage directly with Barry at barrylrowan.com.
