Ethics 101 - What Every Leader Needs To Succeed Order Printed Copy

Author: John Maxwell
Size: 576KB | 113 pages
|

Download Read Online

Continue with

Google Twitter

Email Register

Others like ethics 101 - what every leader needs to succeed Features >>

The Secret: What Great Leaders Know — And Do

Let Go Of Whatever Holds You Back

The Greatest Salesman In The World - Part 1

Die Empty: Unleash Your Best Work Every Day

About the Book

"Ethics 101" by John Maxwell is a guide for leaders on the importance of ethical decision-making in business. Maxwell argues that leaders must prioritize integrity, honesty, and moral principles in order to build trust and credibility within their organizations. The book offers practical advice and case studies to help leaders navigate ethical challenges and succeed in their roles.

St. Patrick

St. Patrick, (flourished 5th century, Britain and Ireland; feast day March 17), patron saint and national apostle of Ireland, credited with bringing Christianity to Ireland and probably responsible in part for the Christianization of the Picts and Anglo-Saxons. He is known only from two short works, the Confessio, a spiritual autobiography, and his Letter to Coroticus, a denunciation of British mistreatment of Irish Christians. Patrick was born in Britain of a Romanized family. At age 16 he was torn by Irish raiders from the villa of his father, Calpurnius, a deacon and minor local official, and carried into slavery in Ireland. He spent six bleak years there as a herdsman, during which he turned with fervour to his faith. Upon dreaming that the ship in which he was to escape was ready, he fled his master and found passage to Britain. There he came near to starvation and suffered a second brief captivity before he was reunited with his family. Thereafter, he may have paid a short visit to the Continent. The best known passage in the Confessio tells of a dream, after his return to Britain, in which one Victoricus delivered him a letter headed “The Voice of the Irish.” As he read it, he seemed to hear a certain company of Irish beseeching him to walk once more among them. “Deeply moved,” he says, “I could read no more.” Nevertheless, because of the shortcomings of his education, he was reluctant for a long time to respond to the call. Even on the eve of reembarkation for Ireland he was beset by doubts of his fitness for the task. Once in the field, however, his hesitations vanished. Utterly confident in the Lord, he journeyed far and wide, baptizing and confirming with untiring zeal. In diplomatic fashion he brought gifts to a kinglet here and a lawgiver there but accepted none from any. On at least one occasion, he was cast into chains. On another, he addressed with lyrical pathos a last farewell to his converts who had been slain or kidnapped by the soldiers of Coroticus. Careful to deal fairly with the non-Christian Irish, he nevertheless lived in constant danger of martyrdom. The evocation of such incidents of what he called his “laborious episcopate” was his reply to a charge, to his great grief endorsed by his ecclesiastical superiors in Britain, that he had originally sought office for the sake of office. In point of fact, he was a most humble-minded man, pouring forth a continuous paean of thanks to his Maker for having chosen him as the instrument whereby multitudes who had worshipped “idols and unclean things” had become “the people of God.” The phenomenal success of Patrick’s mission is not, however, the full measure of his personality. Since his writings have come to be better understood, it is increasingly recognized that, despite their occasional incoherence, they mirror a truth and a simplicity of the rarest quality. Not since St. Augustine of Hippo had any religious diarist bared his inmost soul as Patrick did in his writings. As D.A. Binchy, the most austerely critical of Patrician (i.e., of Patrick) scholars, put it, “The moral and spiritual greatness of the man shines through every stumbling sentence of his ‘rustic’ Latin.” It is not possible to say with any assurance when Patrick was born. There are, however, a number of pointers to his missionary career having lain within the second half of the 5th century. In the Coroticus letter, his mention of the Franks as still “heathen” indicates that the letter must have been written between 451, the date generally accepted as that of the Franks’ irruption into Gaul as far as the Somme River, and 496, when they were baptized en masse. Patrick, who speaks of himself as having evangelized heathen Ireland, is not to be confused with Palladius, sent by Pope Celestine I in 431 as “first bishop to the Irish believers in Christ.” Toward the end of his life, he retired to Saul, where he may have written his Confessio. It is said that an angel conveyed to him that he was to die at Saul, the site of his first church, despite his wishes to die within the ecclesiastical metropolis of Ireland. His last rites were administered by St. Tussach (also spelled Tassach or Tassac). Legends Before the end of the 7th century, Patrick had become a legendary figure, and the legends have continued to grow. One of these would have it that he drove the snakes of Ireland into the sea to their destruction. Patrick himself wrote that he raised people from the dead, and a 12th-century hagiography places this number at 33 men, some of whom are said to have been deceased for many years. He also reportedly prayed for the provision of food for hungry sailors traveling by land through a desolate area, and a herd of swine miraculously appeared. Another legend, probably the most popular, is that of the shamrock, which has him explain the concept of the Holy Trinity, three persons in one God, to an unbeliever by showing him the three-leaved plant with one stalk. Traditionally, Irishmen have worn shamrocks, the national flower of Ireland, in their lapels on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17.

single is never second best: enjoying god’s gift at midlife

Marriage is good — it was God’s idea, after all! So, why doesn’t he bring me a spouse? That question, so perplexing in our twenties and thirties, can become downright painful as the decades march us into middle age and our marital prospects diminish. After all, we know the statistics — there’s a better chance of [insert extraordinary random occurrence] than of getting married after [insert any age over 39]. “A solitary life is not his plan for us whether we get married or not.” Does that mean we over-40 singles are doomed to lives of miserable loneliness? Most definitely not. First of all, we can forget about the statistics because, ultimately, only God determines who marries and who doesn’t. If marriage is God’s plan for us, sooner or later we’re going to get married. Even more importantly, we can be sure that a solitary life is not his plan for us whether we get married or not. God has designed us to live in community, in a family of believers, and his work in our lives aims to get us there: “God settles the solitary in a home” (Psalm 68:6). The real question, therefore, isn’t whether we will wind up alone; it’s whether we’re willing for God’s provision of companionship to be something other than marriage. Do We Trust Him? Trusting God’s provision doesn’t mean, of course, that we won’t ever feel lonely. Just as there is a loneliness unique to marriage — in fact, the loneliest people I know aren’t the single ones, but those in a difficult marriage — there are aspects of loneliness unique to singleness: It’s what a young, single woman feels among friends whose conversations revolve around wedding plans. It’s what a 30-something single feels when his maturity is measured by his marital status. It’s what 40-year-olds feel when others make an erroneous link between their singleness and their sexual orientation. Singles’ loneliness is also fueled by the marital happiness we perceive (or imagine) others are enjoying. Trusting God in the midst of all this pain isn’t about looking harder for a mate or even praying for greater patience. It’s about leaning more deeply into Christ and finding in the process all the blessings of union with him — a deeper, more joy-filled union than that of any human marriage. That’s why relief from the pain of unwanted singleness begins as we ask, Do I trust God ? We won’t trust him if we don’t believe he is good in the way he governs the details of our individual lives — including our marital status. If we are single today, that is God’s goodness to us today. Singleness Showcases What Marriage Can’t As we rest in Christ and trust in the goodness of God, the loneliness of being single is transformed into an opportunity to build up the whole body of Christ. In other words, we can serve and glorify God not despite our singleness, but by virtue of it. “The loneliest people I know aren’t the single ones, but those in a difficult marriage.” As we trust God’s good plans for us, we demonstrate, both to ourselves and to the people around us, that singles aren’t to be pitied. And as we abide in Christ, we stop viewing singleness as a problem to be solved. Since there will be no marriage in heaven except the marriage between Christ and the church (Matthew 22:30; Revelation 19:7), singles are uniquely equipped to show others a preview of what heaven will be like. This is why singleness is actually a sign of hope rather than despair. We can showcase this hope to our married brothers and sisters by how we handle our singleness, and we can also display the compassion of Christ to other people who feel lonely. Part of a Greater Family As we watch our friends raise families, there is no need to feel robbed or shut out, because in the new-covenant era — our era — the family emphasis in Scripture is not mom, dad, and three kids. It’s the church family. When the biblical priority gets reversed, it hinders rather than helps the growth of God’s people. Of course, we must seek to uphold the importance of the nuclear family, but we don’t want to make an idol of it. If we consider what the apostles emphasized, we see that their focus was much more on the Great Commission, personal holiness, and growing the church family. And it is this family from which no single Christian is to be left out. Privileged Calling As singles abide in Christ, we discover, often much to our surprise, that there are unique blessings that come with being single. At a purely practical level, we have more control over our time than our married friends. (I say “more control over” to correct the mistaken view that singles always have more time in general.) And the unmarried can more readily live out their personal preferences in planning social activities, vacations, and areas of service in the church and community. Singles encourage one another and glorify God as they identify their unique blessings, willingly embrace them, and put them to good use. The best privilege of being single is far and away the enhanced opportunity for discipleship and serving Jesus. This, more than anything else — including marriage — is how God remedies loneliness. And there is a satisfaction that comes from living out these unique advantages that our married brothers and sisters can’t fully know. If we are willing — if we trust God — we will surely experience the value and rewards of singleness. “The best privilege of being single is far and away the enhanced opportunity for discipleship and serving Jesus.” As we do, we come to value our lives — not despite our singleness, but actually because of it. Women who have rarely or never been pursued by men, or men whose pursuit of women has been rejected (once or many times), often question their worth. It is to such that Christ comes, not to shore up their self-esteem, but to drive them to find him as their worth. As we value Christ, our own value becomes clearer, and as that happens, we discover that somewhere along the way, we’ve stopped defining our personhood and our well-being by our marital status. Singleness isn’t second best. To the contrary, it’s a privileged calling with unique blessings to enjoy and to pour out for others. Are we willing to embrace it unless or until God calls us to marriage? That’s the real question. And those who say yes will never be disappointed.