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Sermon for the Fifth Sunday of Easter – May 2, 2010
It seemed like such a good idea at the time; in fact, it was a good idea…for about seven years. On October 3, 2003, Accenture – at the time a less than three year old management consulting firm – signed a major sports celebrity to be the public symbol of what they called its new “High Performance Business Strategy,” launching a global integrated marketing program, including an advertising campaign with the tag line: “Go on. Be a Tiger.” Can you guess where I’m going here?
In a breathless announcement, Joe Forehand, Accenture CEO at the time,had this to say: “Tiger Woods’ strength, mastery, discipline and relentless focus on winning are universally recognized qualities that mirror the characteristics of a high-performance business, making him the ideal representative for our marketing position.” And then, proving that he wasn’t sleeping during his business classes at Auburn, Mr. Forehand added, “A high-performance business is one that optimizes its resources to achieve its objectives and consistently outperforms competitors. Tiger is the best at his game and we want our clients to be the best at theirs.”
Putting their money where their mouth was, Accenture invested heavily in promoting Woods’ first business to business endorsement, advertising in print, cable and network TV in 27 countries. CNN, CNBC, the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and every major financial newspaper around the world featured the “Be a Tiger” ad campaign, which cost the company some $50 million a year.
And why not pour so much money into that investment? The symbol of the company had everything going for him; who wouldn’t want to share in his aura? In 2003 Woods was the number one golfer in the world, the winner of four tournaments and finishing in the top 10 in 10 of the 15 tournaments he entered that year. He was a natural representative of what Accenture called, “Optimum performance in competitive environments with a focus on winning.”
Yes, it’s all about winning, and winning is what made Tiger Woods the most famous golfer - if not the most famous athlete - in the world. Winning is what brought him his glory. Listen to what the company’s global marketing director had to say at the time of Woods’ signing: “It’s appropriate that a brand of Accenture’s stature should be associated with one of the leading figures in sports and popular culture. Tiger Woods is the epitome of delivering high performance and he is relevant, respected and admired by the top executives to whom the campaign is targeted.”
A few years, and a sordid sex scandal later, and those same executives are saying, “Tiger who?” In December of 2009, a month after the details of Woods’ nefarious escapades began to lead out, the New York Times ran a story headlined, “Accenture, as if Tiger Woods Were Never There.”
“How do you Tiger-proof an entire corporation?” the reporter asks. “At Accenture, you start by telling employees to tear down all the posters that say, now somewhat awkwardly, that ‘we know what it takes to be a Tiger.’” “For six years,” the reporter went on, “Tiger Woods was the advertising face for Accenture…But now that Mr. Woods has confessed to infidelities amid an assault of media coverage, Accenture wants him to disappear.”
The day after Accenture ended its sponsorship deal staffers swept through the company’s New York office and took down any visible Tiger posters. Woods’ face was removed from the web site and replaced by a skier. (A skier? Somebody stayed up all night thinking of that.)Marketing and communications employees around the world were asked to turn in any remaining Tiger materials and were reminded to review their sales pitches to make sure that they did no longer include Tiger Woods. According to one company spokesman, “Mr. Woods just wasn’t a metaphor for high performance anymore.” (Feel free to giggle.)
It’s too bad, isn’t it, that back when everyone was standing around and congratulating themselves on their business acumen, basking in Tiger’s reflected glory, eagerly lining up to kiss his hand; its’ too bad that someone didn’t take a page from a far more ancient rite of elevation: the papal coronation. While it sounds strange to compare the two men, I’ll bet that more people in the worldknow who Tiger Woods is than know who the current pope is.
Back when the church really knew how to do things, beginning in 1143 and continuing until 1963, when the practice was stopped by Paul VI, before a new pope could exercise his office, he was crowned, as if he were a king or an emperor, in a coronation mass that could run as long as six hours.
On the first Sunday or Holy Day following the election, the ceremony began with a solemn Papal Mass during which he sat on a throne and all of the cardinals approached him one by one and kissed his hand. Then the archbishops and bishops approached and kissed his feet. (No wonder they all wanted to be cardinals!) Following this, at least from the beginning of the 16thcentury, the newly elected pope was carried through St. Peter’s Basilica, held aloft on a portable throne consisting of a richly-adorned, silk covered armchair fastened on a kind of long stretcher with rings on each side. Rods were passed through the rings and twelve footmen in red livery carried the throne on their shoulders.
Three times during the ceremony the procession was stopped and a bundle of flax was burned before the pope while a master of ceremonies said, “Pater Sancte, sic transit Gloria mundi.” “Holy Father, thus passes the glory of the world;” in the midst of all the pomp and circumstance, a symbolic caution to set aside vanity; a reminder of the transitory nature of life and of earthly honors.
No one knows for sure where the expression originated. Some say that it is an adaptation of a phrase found in a book I’ve mentioned before, Thomas a Kempis’s “The Imitation of Christ,” in which he writes, “O quam citotransit Gloria mundi.” “How quickly the glory of the world passes away.”
Sometimes shortened to “sic transit,” this aphorism has remained in fairly common usage, aptly applied when kings and queens of all kind, political or cultural, meet their downfall. No matter who was the first to coin it, its truth has not been tarnished. As long as people continue to seek their own glory, there will always be someone reminding them of the one to whom the term really applies.
“Glory,” the word sings of honor and fame, of radiance and light, of exultation and joy, of admiration and distinction. We use it of each other and we use it of God; and far too often we get the two mixed up.
In the Old Testament, the most common Hebrew word for “glory” is “kabod,” which means “weight” or “importance,” a term which can be applied to people to show their honor or significance in the world. Proverbs says that “Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life,” which must mean that we have some glorious, righteous people occupying our pews, although some attempt to hide their glory, if not under a bushel, then under Miss Clairol.
Nonetheless, the Bible is clear that nothing and no one is more deserving of the description “glorious” than God himself. “To God alone the glory,” J.S. Bach wrote on his compositions. And our gray hair is nothing to the revelation of God’s glory. When Moses was in the presence of God on Mount Sinai, and the entire congregation of the Israelites looked on, Exodus says, “The glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud.” And “The appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel.”
Glory, then, is God’s revelation, a reflection of the divine nature; and our response is to reflect that glory right back. “Ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name,” says Psalm 29, and every week we do that here. It is only right that the source of all glory is the recipient of our honor and worship, only right that our lives reveal the glory that has been revealed to us. While we may have people whom we look up to, role models we call them, we know with whom we ultimately identify; we know whose glory is not fleeting.
Today we don’t hear about optimizing resources to obtain objectives; we don’t hear about maximizing high performance with an emphasis on winning. Today we hear not only what true glory is but what true glory costs. In just two sentences in the Gospel John uses the term five times, so we know it’s important to him. But just how is God’s glory made known? Not in a cloud, not in a fire, not in pursuit of a green jacket or a major corporate sponsor. No God’s glory is revealed in Christ crucified, weighed down on our behalf, paying the ultimate cost, sharing our death that he might bring us to fullness of life.
The heart of the Gospel message is, I believe, found in Christ’s suffering, sacrificial love, which frees our hearts and completes our joy. Here is the true glory of God, revealed in us, revealed in the church when we choose to follow him, not onto the cross, mind you, but in the love that took him to the cross.
“Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” The Greek word John has Jesus use for love is “agape,” complete and unconditional love; love with deep loyalty and without limits. This is a love which will never let us go; a love which will never pass away; but it is also a love epitomized by the one who suffered death on a cross.
And when that death happened, Jesus’ disciples vanished as fast as Tiger Woods’ corporate sponsors. Who would want to be associated with what St. Paul called the “stumbling block,” literally the “scandal” of Christ crucified?
Well, we would; this is one scandal we don’t hide from but embrace; a scandal leading us not to abandon one another in shame but to embrace one another in love. Yes, people are always falling off the pedestals we insist on putting them on; rulers are always being toppled off their thrones. Let us keep our attention focused on the one who is seated on a different throne; the one who does not change but at the same time is making all things new.
Accenture’s webpage, instead of a skier,now features an elephant riding a surfboard with the tag line, “Who says you can’t be big and nimble?” Cute, but hardly compelling, it seems to me. It will probably change in a few years. I think I’ll stick with ours: “In the cross of Christ I glory, towering over the wrecks of time.” Little risk of any scandal there, but I don’t think that line has anything on ours: “In the cross of Christ, towering over the wrecks of time.”
More than a good idea; more than a clever marketing campaign, it’s a way of life with some staying power.