Ding!: Living Life in Light of Eternity

I love music. I’m a singer and a musician, even though my higher calling is that of a pastor. Over the years, I’ve learned that music and ministry have a lot in common. We can do both for applause, or for something far greater.

I once learned that Johann Sebastian Bach would write three Latin words at the top of many of his compositions—Soli Deo Gloria—which means “to God alone be the glory.” It was his quiet way of saying, This piece isn’t about me. To put it more plainly, Bach’s actions suggested that even if no one ever heard the song, it still had meaning and purpose. The music itself was an act of worship—not written for the response or applause of an audience.

I don’t know if every note Bach wrote carried that depth of intention, but most music lovers would agree that his work feels somehow higher in purpose than most composers—at least from the standpoint of his motive for writing.

Now imagine if we lived with that kind of purpose. What if those exact words—Soli Deo Gloria—were written across our calendars, our conversations, our jobs, our homes?

When you think about it, a song isn’t really that important. Neither is another meeting at work, another email, another meal to cook, or another problem to solve—unless the motive behind it gives it meaning. Soli Deo Gloria turns ordinary moments and mundane tasks into something sacred. It causes us to examine not only what we do, but why we do it.

The Tyranny of the Immediate

Now I will be the first to admit that trying to live our entire lives with the intention of Soli Deo Gloria would be an incredible challenge. Not because we don’t want to glorify God, but because we live in a world that tells us our motive—our reason for doing anything we do—should be for immediate gratification and for the validation we get from others.

Our phones ding. Our inboxes fill. There’s always something to check, scroll, or fix. I call this the tyranny of the immediate. The noise that surrounds us tells us everything is urgent, everything matters, and we’re always just one response away from being left behind.

A lot of us measure our worth in notifications, and we feel useful when our calendars are full. The world has taught us that meaning is found in motion. Just stay busy—that’s what’s important. But the faster life gets, the easier it is to mistake distraction for purpose.

It’s kind of hard to make literary references in our modern day unless the book we’re referencing has been converted to the screen. But there’s a scene often retold from the classic story of Don Quixote that captures this perfectly. Don Quixote is the story of a man who set out to live for noble ideals in a world that had stopped believing in them. In one scene, he tells his companion, Sancho Panza, about soldiers he saw dying in battle. He said there was a question in their eyes as they died. Sancho assumed the question was, “Why am I dying?” But Quixote said no—it was, “Why was I living?”

That line stays with me. Is what I’m doing really important? And if so, how do I measure importance?

Eternity as the Measuring Rod

So how do we measure what is really important? How do we know what deserves our time, our energy, our hearts? The answer is simple, but it changes everything: value is measured by eternity.

Ask yourself—will this matter a hundred years from now? Will it matter in eternity? If the answer is no, it might not deserve the weight we give it. If the answer is yes, then it belongs at the center of our priorities.

Biblical scholars have observed that the only two things that will live on in eternity are God’s Word and His people. The question of eternal significance exposes how upside-down our values can become. We chase the things that fade and neglect the things that last. We spend our best energy on what impresses people, not on what pleases God. 

Let me give you a little piece of wisdom. Not everything that feels urgent is important, and not everything important feels urgent.

When eternity becomes the standard for our value system, the noise of the immediate gets much quieter.

Living with Jesus as our Center

Another way to talk about eternal value and what that looks like in daily life is to talk about living life with Jesus as our center. In Ephesians 5:15, Paul gives a simple warning: “Be careful how you live.” He goes on to describe what it looks like when Jesus becomes the center of a person’s life. What’s fascinating is that he doesn’t mention religious activity or church attendance. Instead, he talks about the stuff of ordinary life—marriage, family, and work.

When Christ is the center, husbands and wives stop competing for control and start serving in love. Parents and children stop reacting out of frustration and start relating out of grace. Workers stop seeing their jobs as just paychecks and begin to view them as opportunities for faithful living. In short, Christ-centered living reorders everything.

When Jesus is at the center, priorities shift. We stop asking, What do I want? And start asking, What honors Him? And that’s what Soli Deo Gloria looks like in real life. It’s not a motto—it’s a motive written across the heart. It means that whether anyone ever sees, hears, or applauds what we do, our lives and our actions still have meaning. It means our every word and action has the chance to bring glory to God. And that should both sober us and inspire us.

I want you to get this principle deep in your heart. So, in case you need one to recognize the significance of this truth...

Ding!