Everybody knows Handel’s Messiah, probably one of the most performed classical works of all time. Every Christmas, it echoes through concert halls worldwide ad nauseam —yet we keep returning. Few, however, know the history behind it.
Handel moved to England not merely to compose but to become an entrepreneur. He dedicated much of his life to producing operas and serving the monarchy, yet he couldn’t achieve the success he sought. Au contraire, he poured his efforts into Italian opera at precisely the moment English audiences were losing their taste for it. By the 1730s, declining ticket sales, fierce competition, and a ban on Lent performances pushed his company toward bankruptcy.
In April 1737, his company collapsed. That same month, at age 52, Handel suffered a stroke that paralyzed his right arm. He even practiced in the dark to avoid being seen at home — so he could feign absence if creditors came knocking. Broke and weakened by the stroke. Nowhere to go. He was 52.
Four years later, still struggling financially, he received a libretto from Charles Jennens — a wealthy landowner who had compiled passages from the King James Bible tracing the prophecies of the Messiah, Christ’s birth, death, and resurrection. The text was not dramatic in the operatic sense; there were no characters to impersonate, no direct speech. It was pure meditation. Handel, a faithful Christian, recognized something in this structure. He began composing on August 22, 1741, and finished on September 14 — just 24 days for a work that runs nearly three hours.
What Handel created was formally remarkable. The Messiah contains no arias in the conventional operatic sense — no virtuosic display for its own sake. Instead, Handel built something between oratorio and sacred cantata: a work where chorus, recitative, and aria serve the text’s contemplative arc rather than dramatic spectacle. The orchestration is deliberately restrained, allowing the words to breathe. And in the spaces between movements, Handel composed silence — pauses that let the weight of scripture settle before the music resumes.
Messiah premiered on April 13, 1742, in Dublin at the Great Music Hall on Fishamble Street. The venue held 600; over 700 attended. Ladies were asked to forgo their hoop skirts, and gentlemen were asked to leave their swords at home, all to make room. The performance raised £400 for charity and secured the release of 142 imprisoned debtors. The London premiere followed on March 23, 1743, at Covent Garden, though it met initial controversy — some clergy objected to sacred text performed in a theater. Handel avoided the word Messiah in advertisements, billing it simply as “A Sacred Oratorio.”
Though conceived for Easter and premiered during Lent, Messiah became a Christmas tradition — particularly in America, where the Handel and Haydn Society gave the first complete U.S. performance on Christmas Day 1818 in Boston. Part I’s prophecies of Christ’s birth, including “For Unto Us a Child Is Born,” aligned naturally with Nativity celebrations. Today, December performances dominate, from sing-alongs to orchestral events, though Easter and Lent performances persist in Britain and elsewhere.
After Messiah‘s success, Handel rebuilt his fortune through oratorios, which required no elaborate staging or costumes. He proved to be a shrewd investor as well. Bank of England records show he had bought South Sea Company stock around 1715 and — crucially — sold it between 1717 and 1719, just before the catastrophic bubble burst in 1720. Whether luck or intuition, he avoided the crash that ruined Isaac Newton and countless others. From 1743 until his death, Handel steadily invested his performance earnings in government annuities. He died wealthy in 1759 at age 74, leaving approximately £17,500 in Bank of England holdings (worth over £2 million today), much of it bequeathed to charities, the Foundling Hospital, and family.
You cannot know what life holds, nor the turbulent paths it will take. Handel’s story offers something for those in difficult seasons, especially when the weight of time makes setbacks feel permanent. Only God knows what lies ahead. Our duty is to keep walking.
Every year, I have a personal marathon to read at least 52 books — one per week. It sounds more complex than what actually is, because that’s about 35 minutes of daily reading. It doesn’t look like much if you break the monster of ~15,000 pages to read.
Once I realized that half an hour of the 17 hours I’m usually awake isn’t a painful act, I developed a thirst for reading. It didn’t happen in the first year, nor in the second, but it gained traction, and now I can surpass that number easily if I just put in a little effort. However, the number is allowed to go down if there are more dense books, like The Brothers Karamazov. Nevertheless, this year I got soft on the style of reading, avoiding intense texts in sequence. Therefore, reaching the number 52 wasn’t such a struggle.
Without further ado, here are my top 10 books of 2025 (without a particular order):
The City of God (Part I), Augustine of Hippo
The Blue Book, Ludwig Wittgenstein
Same as Ever, Morgan Housel
The Culture Matters, Roger Scruton
Room for Good Things to Run Wild, Josh Nadeau
The Concept of Anxiety, Søren Kierkegaard
The Idea of Holy, Rudolf Otto
The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt
Practicing the Way, John Mark Comer
Inteligência Humilhada, Jonas Madureira.
This doesn’t mean I think all of them are timeless (even though some are), but they touched me in a way that shaped my character — and that’s what books are all about. Unless the book is your living manual, you don’t need to memorize every line; the goal is to understand the book’s central concept and see how the core ideal can be applied (or avoided). For example, this year I read two books by Nietzsche, yet even though I find them very insightful, I use them as a model of how my mind should not be shaped. Therefore, reading should be thoughtful and careful, because you’re consuming ideas that shape actions, and actions have consequences.
This year was quite introspective, focusing on the interior rather than the exterior (productivity). That means next year will likely have an outward perspective, as the seeds planted need to bear fruit.
De civitate Dei contra paganos Augustine of Hippo *****
This is a masterpiece by one of the most significant figures in the foundation of Christianity during the early years of the Church. Augustine’s “Confessions” already brought me to my knees as he reflects on how his vast knowledge wasn’t enough to comprehend how desperately he needed God. The book addresses several aspects of our lives. Now, while reading “The City of God,” Augustine expands the perspective to illustrate how hollow our society was. Even though they achieved many things, people were often blind to the most essential aspects of life.
“Two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self, even to the contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self.”
The version I have splits the book into two parts, and in the first, he dissects the basis of the Roman society. Part I is primarily a demolition project: Augustine systematically dismantles Roman religion, showing that the gods never protected Rome and that Roman virtue was invariably compromised by pride. The deeper argument: earthly cities rise and fall because they’re built on disordered loves. The City of Man seeks glory, power, and domination. The City of God seeks God himself.
Augustine reminds us that we are here as pilgrims, and no city will ever be our real home.
The Blue Book Ludwig Wittgenstein ****
What stands out to me in this book is the influence of Wittgenstein’s philosophy on the development of artificial intelligence. Although his ideas were not directly used, they significantly shaped our understanding of language and the construction of thought, which form the foundation of AI.
Wittgenstein argues that meaning comes from use. We become confused by grammar, which leads us to ask malformed questions like “What is time?” and “What is knowledge?” This confusion leads to the construction of elaborate metaphysical answers to problems that are actually misunderstandings of language. Philosophy doesn’t solve problems; instead, it dissolves them by revealing how language has misled us.
The process can be dense, recursive, and often frustrating, but once you understand it, you stop asking specific questions entirely. It goes back entirely to the core of philosophy, as formulating the right questions is better than just providing answers. This is how we get the best results from AI, and it’s also how we can improve everything we think and do.
“Our craving for generality has another main source: our preoccupation with the method of science… Philosophers constantly see the method of science before their eyes, and are irresistibly tempted to ask and answer questions in the way science does. This tendency is the real source of metaphysics, and leads the philosopher into complete darkness.”
Same as Ever Morgan Housel ****
Following the success of “The Psychology of Money,” Morgan Housel began to release more intriguing works, including his latest book, “The Art of Spending Money,” which I also read this year. However, I preferred “Same as Ever” because it explores a range of topics. In contrast, “The Art of Spending Money” feels more like an appendix to “The Psychology of Money.” His writing style is comfortable for most people and reduces complex issues into palatable words.
For those familiar with Nassim Taleb’s work, this book will find a home, as Housel talks about how people obsess over predicting what will change, but the real edge comes from understanding what never changes — greed, fear, envy, tribalism, the need for narrative, the gap between expectations and reality.
“The more history I read, the more comfortable I became with the future. When you focus on what never changes, you stop trying to predict uncertain events and spend more time understanding timeless behavior.”
Even though it’s a pop hit, the book delivers important content that makes one wonder how to go deeper into the subjects. The core idea is that the world changes; people don’t. Plan for permanent features of human behavior, not temporary conditions. This book is a nice parallel to Will Durant’s The Lessons of History, as both arrive at the same conclusion.
Culture Counts Roger Scruton ****
“The purpose of education in the humanities should not be to benefit the student with a set of instrumental skills, but rather to look after the culture itself by training a fresh set of guardians to look after it.”
Scruton argues that culture isn’t just a form of decoration, but rather the operating system of a civilization. High culture transmits meaning across generations, cultivates emotional intelligence, and provides the shared symbols through which a society understands itself. Modern progressivism, he contends (and also finds resonance with my own perception), has systematically dismantled this inheritance: attacking tradition as oppression, replacing judgment with relativism, and substituting political messaging for genuine art. The result is a cultural vacuum filled by commercialism and ideology. Scruton isn’t merely nostalgic; he’s making a functional argument. Without high culture, people lack the resources to navigate suffering, beauty, and moral complexity. The loss isn’t only aesthetic; it’s existential. That reflects how anxiety, depression, and all sorts of mental disorders are trending.
Even though Scruton has a different perspective from Adorno or Lipovetsky, they both agree that the mainstream butchered culture in order to profit, but differently from the Frankfurt School, Roger points out that not just the market profits from the degradation of culture, but also the gatekeepers in academia and the “so-called” elite.
Culture is how a civilization teaches its members to feel the right things about the right objects. Destroy it, and you produce people who can’t perceive meaning.
Room for Good Things to Run Wild Josh Nadeau ****
Well known in the Instagramsphere, Josh debuted with this book, which takes its title from a G. K. Chesterton work, as Christianity establishes order so that good things can flourish freely within it. The book can be interpreted as a contemporary Confessions, but not in the sense of a mundane character achieving enlightenment; instead, it depicts a Christian awakening to true Christianity.
Nadeau draws heavily on Chesterton, Lewis, and Dostoevsky— a curated tradition of writers who saw glory in the mundane. The book includes original illustrations and a “liturgy” that builds chapter by chapter. It’s more poetry than system, more invitation than instruction.
“I’m on the same path as you, still learning the hard way. But there has been a real change in me. I tasted a bit of the flavor of Death, and I also tasted some of the Life to come, and I know which I prefer.”
Begrebet Angest Søren Kierkegaard *****
Kierkegaard is a fascinating person. His perspectives on philosophical and Christian subjects are unique. I consider him one of the most important authors to read for how he twists the way problems of life are perceived.
Anxiety isn’t fear (which has an object) — it’s the dizziness of freedom, the vertigo we feel before infinite possibility. Anyone reading this book will relate to this conclusion. Anxiety reveals our freedom to us; it’s the mood of a self that must become itself through choice. But the core insight lands: anxiety is not a malfunction. It’s the price of being a self capable of becoming something — or nothing.
“Anxiety is freedom’s possibility; this anxiety alone is, through faith, absolutely formative, since it consumes all finite ends, discovers all their deceptions.”
Das Heilige Rudolf Otto *****
Das Heilige, or The Idea of the Holy, was an essential book for introducing the concept of the numinous. C. S. Lewis rarely named other authors in his books, but Otto was one of them because this concept is unforgettable. Numinous means a felt encounter with the holy—mysterious, awe‑filled, and otherworldly. It is less an idea than an event in consciousness: the soul sensing it stands before something real, alive, and greater than itself.
I consider this concept to be an upgraded version of Kant’s sublime. Otto’s numinous is a felt encounter with the “wholly other”—a personal, irreducibly religious presence that evokes awe, dread, and attraction. It is relational and theistic in flavor: one senses being addressed, judged, or invited. Kant’s sublime is an aesthetic-judgment experience before nature’s vastness or force (a starry sky, storms), where imagination fails to grasp the magnitude, and reason asserts moral freedom. It is impersonal and reflective: the mind discovers its supersensible vocation, not a divine presence.
“In contrast to ‘the overpowering’ of which we are conscious as an object over against the self, there is the feeling of one’s own submergence, of being but ‘dust and ashes’ and nothingness. And this forms the numinous raw feeling for the feeling of religious humility.”
The book also draws on the history of how mankind relates to the sacred, and how that shaped humanity since the early days. The book isn’t just theological; it also takes a sociological perspective.
The Righteous Mind Jonathan Haidt ****
Jonathan Haidt’s name is spreading all around these days because his book “The Anxious Generation” was a tremendous bestseller, with good reason: it hits a nerve in our society and the future of our generation. Even though I think Michel Desmourget’s work should’ve gained more attention, it had the same subject and was written years before. Nevertheless, Haidt already had a stronger name, primarily because of “The Righteous Mind.” Therefore, I decided to read it too.
This book tries to conceal both political spectrums, or at least make one side more empathetic toward the other. He points out that neither side is entirely irrational, as they’re attending to different moral dimensions. The book explains why political opponents talk past each other — they’re not disagreeing about facts but perceiving through different moral matrices.
“Empathy is an antidote to righteousness, although it’s very difficult to empathize across a moral divide.”
I don’t agree with all of Haidt’s arguments, and surely some are a bit shallow in how he sees that this might resume as a sense of community and meaning. The strongest argument against his religious point of view is that he completely misses conversion. When people convert, they aren’t precisely seeking safety or communion, as many of them face quite the opposite of that: persecution and hatred. However, the book offers strong explanations of why we tend to increase tension through different perspectives, which, in itself, is already a triumph of his writing.
“Morality binds and blinds. It binds us into ideological teams that fight each other as though the fate of the world depended on our side winning each battle. It blinds us to the fact that each team is composed of good people who have something important to say.”
Practicing the Way John Mark Comer ***
Pastor John Mark Comer has a very contemporary writing style that almost feels like you’re reading a conversation or even a social media post — his target is the young folks. Even though the style is not to my taste, John’s approach towards the content and importance of setting the proper standards for becoming a faithful follower of Jesus.
The “Way” is apprenticeship to Jesus — not just belief in doctrines but imitation of a life. Comer focuses on spiritual disciplines: silence, solitude, sabbath, simplicity, and community. The argument isn’t moralistic (“do these to be a better person”) but formational (“these are how you become the kind of person who naturally does good”).
“Anyone who values truth should stop worshipping reason.”
The book is a sequel to The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry (which I also read this year), and it’s clearly a mature version of the previous book.
Inteligência Humilhada Jonas Madureira ****
Now, something off the radar for most people, as Jonas is a niche writer in the Brazilian theological scene. However, his understanding of philosophy and theology is blended here in a masterful way. The book should be translated into English for a broader audience.
Madureira argues that modern intellectual life suffers from pride disguised as sophistication. True intelligence requires humility before God, tradition, and the limits of human reason. He draws on Augustine, Calvin, and the Reformed tradition to show that the fall didn’t just corrupt the will but also the intellect.
The book critiques both secular rationalism and evangelical anti-intellectualism, arguing for a third way: rigorous thinking that knows its place. The call is for chastened reason — rigorous thinking that knows its place, submitted to revelation and aware of its own distortions. What hit me in this book is how, after millennia of reasoning, we still haven’t scratched the surface of wisdom.
“True wisdom begins when reason kneels.”
The whole reading list is the following, in reverse chronological order:
1. The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry – John Mark Comer 2. A arte de gastar dinheiro – Morgan Housel 3. A World Without Email – Cal Newport 4. Four Thousand Weeks – Oliver Burkeman 5. A mente moralista – Jonathan Haidt 6. Christ and Culture – H. Richard Niebuhr 7. Como tudo começou – Adauto Lourenço 8. Por que ler os clássicos – Italo Calvino 9. Creativity: A Short and Cheerful Guide – John Cleese 10. O Sagrado – Rudolf Otto 11. On Jiu Jitsu – Chris Matakas 12. A Fazenda dos Animais – George Orwell 13. A Morte de Ivan Ilitch e Outras Histórias – Leo Tolstoy 14. From Strength to Strength – Arthur C. Brooks 15. O Anticristo – Friedrich Nietzsche 16. O Processo – Franz Kafka 17. Ogilvy on Advertising – David Ogilvy 18. Ecce Homo – Friedrich Nietzsche 19. Estética: Textos Seletos – Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel 20. Ferrari: O homem por trás das máquinas – Brock Yates 21. O Conceito de Angústia – Søren Kierkegaard 22. Inteligência humilhada – Jonas Madureira 23. The One Thing – Gary Keller 24. Why Nations Fail – Daron Acemoğlu 25. The Lessons of History – Will Durant 26. Aesthetics – Theodor W. Adorno 27. Ask Pastor John – Tony Reinke 28. A Educação das Crianças – Michel de Montaigne 29. The Paradox of Choice – Barry Schwartz 30. Supercommunicators – Charles Duhigg 31. The Anxious Generation – Jonathan Haidt 32. Skin in the Game – Nassim Nicholas Taleb 33. Room for Good Things to Run Wild – Josh Nadeau 34. Poor Charlie’s Almanack – Charles T. Munger 35. A Conexão de Leipzig – Paolo Lionni 36. Practicing the Way – John Mark Comer 37. Quem educa nossas crianças? – Susan Linn 38. Ética a Nicômaco – Aristóteles 39. A cultura importa – Roger Scruton 40. Lifespan – David A. Sinclair 41. O Livro Azul – Ludwig Wittgenstein 42. A Cidade de Deus: Parte I – Augustine of Hippo 43. Eu, Robô – Isaac Asimov 44. Não Terceirize o Ser Filho – Karen Mortean 45. A Mente Organizada – Daniel J. Levitin 46. Sobre o livre-arbítrio – Augustine of Hippo 47. O Velho e o Mar – Ernest Hemingway 48. The Age of AI and Our Human Future – Henry Kissinger 49. The Comfort Zone – Kristen Butler 50. Same as Ever – Morgan Housel 51. The Case Against Education – Bryan Caplan 52. Onde Existe Amor, Deus Ai Esta – Leo Tolstoy 53. Cartas de um Diabo a Seu Aprendiz – C.S. Lewis
This is a trend subject, ultra-processed, and even if new, it’s getting worn out before reaching its peak. Nevertheless, there’s still interest, and some might not be looking at the core of the issue.
We’re shifting towards the age of AI, where everything can be produced in the blink of an eye. What will be left for the creatives when people lose sight of what is artificial and what is authentic? Of course, the live performances will still be relatively significant, but what about products or services based on creative assets? Where is the music industry heading? Will the film industry survive? Custom AI-ads might even knock out the advertising market as a whole. There might not even be work for ghostwriters.
Now, after an apocalyptic intro, let’s dig into what the real deal is with AI in the creative field, because people might freak out about the possibilities of oblivion, including me. Still, I have a different perspective on why the creative business might struggle, but for a better cause. If you look back in history, you will notice that technology created more jobs than it eliminated, creating new fields, shifting people to new media, atomizing production, and even creating new art forms, such as cinema and animation. The internet brought new ways to create advertising, and hey, we didn’t even have social media a few years ago, which made many jobs, not fewer.
Skilled and creative people have managed to navigate every technological shift, and this time isn’t any different. However, I must acknowledge that this time the technology is tackling the skills, not just the format. This is where the worry and anxiety kick in, because it’s not just about adapting to new tools, but is a different approach to how to think as a whole, not a mechanical issue. The way artists relate to the tools might differ from now on, not because they won’t be able to produce art, but in how to make their art relevant. As we all know, the more available a product is, the less valuable it is. This happened to music recently, initiated by Napster and ending up now with Spotify. The medium shift made music a commodity. Production costs have fallen significantly, and producing music with AI now has a value close to zero… unless there’s added value.
And here’s the point I want to reach: added value. AI can’t produce value. It can reduce costs, but can’t add value. Value is added with intention. AI doesn’t have intention. It can’t even prompt itself without imagination. The reality is that AI isn’t even close to a human mind yet; even if it can produce impressive results, the technology is still far from dreaming.
The challenge lies in adding value and intention, and without character, knowledge, and taste, it won’t be easy to compete. A person might even use AI to produce content and imbue it with relevance, but only if the person adds purpose to the art. Therefore, those who are art history-savvy, with proven taste and rhetoric, might thrive, but those with technical skills yet lacking in communication skills are more likely to struggle. Being able to manage all that data with human imagination is already proving different, and it will only get better as technology evolves. As Walter Benjamin noted nearly a century ago, “The uniqueness of a work of art is inseparable from its being embedded in the fabric of tradition.” People, not machines, weave that fabric.
In some ways, this dystopian future might shake the creative world, not to steal jobs, but to actually make creatives prove a point on why their art has value. The value might be the person themselves, their philosophy, or even physical traits; however, one thing will be required the most: their soul. AI doesn’t have a soul; people do, and their art thrives when people notice their soul. A musician shouldn’t play just for the sake of playing; they have to add their soul to it, as does the painter, the writer, the actor, the filmmaker, etc.
Once again, we are going back to the core: the anima. Everything goes back to this. Technology will keep evolving. Tools will keep improving. But the hunger for meaning (as Viktor Frankl famously pointed out), for connection, for something that feels human—that won’t change. That’s the constant. And as long as that hunger exists, there will be room for those willing to feed it with something only they can offer. Not perfection. Not efficiency. Presence. Art will always remain with the relationship between the author and the audience. Fewer transactions, more relationships. That’s not a downgrade. That’s a return to the original deal.
I see many parents striving to raise competent professionals for the future while neglecting their children’s character development.
Technical skills often become obsolete, as technology evolves incessantly. There are professionals — theoretically highly qualified — who remain unemployed for reasons that go far beyond technical ability. When the focus is solely on technical mastery, replacement by a machine is only a matter of time. The same truth applies to creative and athletic pursuits.
Take sports, for instance: coaches and managers often say that teams seek players who offer more than talent. There’s little point in hiring a star who disrupts the group. Discipline and sociability count for much more.
“Education must never be merely the transmission of knowledge, but rather the creation of personal responsibility.” — Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
Overloading a child with classes and technical tasks is no guarantee of success. Raising a child with principles, discipline, kindness, and initiative opens far more doors than any technical training ever could.
In a world dominated by artificial intelligence, automation, and relentless change, the actual distinction lies in character — not in mechanics.
Another critical point is the tendency to maintain certain practices merely for appearance’s sake, even when they no longer work or contradict the family’s principles. This often happens because, by delegating their children’s education to others, parents inadvertently expose them to values that may not align with those they hold dear at home.
“We cannot continue to send our children to Caesar to be educated and be surprised when they come home as Romans.” — Voddie Baucham
Even when others take part in a child’s upbringing, the ultimate responsibility for the values and influences shaping that child still rests with the parents. The marks printed in a child’s mind will remain until later in life, shaping the taste and morals. Even the slightest influence can disrupt the parents intentions. Not only by ‘Do not be deceived: “Bad company ruins good morals.”, as written in 1 Corinthians 15:33
The enormous success of Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation has drawn global attention to how social media is derailing childhood. Yet, several authors raised these concerns long before — Michel Desmurget, Susan Linn, and Bryan Caplan, among others, warned of the disruptive effects digital media has on children and their development. What remains less discussed, however, is how it also distorts their sense of beauty, virtue, and the sublime. It is not only bad company that corrupts character, but also bad content.
“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old, he will not depart from it.” — Proverbs 22:6
Teach a child to focus on what is timeless — the moral, the ethical, and the sublime. Everything else will, sooner or later, become obsolete.
Footnotes
Footnotes
Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning (Boston: Beacon Press, 2006), 111.
Jonathan Haidt, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness (New York: Penguin Press, 2024).
Michel Desmurget, La Fabrique du Crétin Digital: Les Dangers des Écrans pour Nos Enfants (Paris: Seuil, 2019).
Susan Linn, Who’s Raising the Kids? Big Tech, Big Business, and the Lives of Children (New York: The New Press, 2022).
Bryan Caplan, Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids: Why Being a Great Parent Is Less Work and More Fun Than You Think (New York: Basic Books, 2011).
Voddie T. Baucham Jr., Family Driven Faith: Doing What It Takes to Raise Sons and Daughters Who Walk with God (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2007), 46.
The Holy Bible, English Standard Version, Proverbs 22:6.
Derek Sivers said “Die Empty” (which is actually a book by Todd Henry).^1 Bill Perkins has a book named “Die with Zero”.^2 Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf coined the motto “Preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten,” a pietist way of living for missionaries. ^3
Todd aimed to live fully and create everything possible with his lifetime, being productive. Perkins’ book aims to help people enjoy their earnings rather than let them sit idle as useless cash. However, Nikolaus’ message was to live for a cause that extends beyond one’s life.
What can we achieve if we combine all of them? A meaningful life. Maybe a bit of what Viktor Frankl’s^4 work was about, but it’s really what the Bible has been preaching all along.
Let’s do a mental exercise. For example:
1. Die Empty – Living Fully & Using Your Gifts
These verses encourage pouring out your talents, energy, and life for God’s purposes:
2 Timothy 4:6-7 – “For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
Ephesians 2:10 – “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
Matthew 25:14-30 (Parable of the Talents) – calls us to invest what’s entrusted to us, not to bury it.
John 9:4 – “As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work.”
2. Die with Zero – Enjoying & Sharing God’s Provision
Scripture teaches that blessings are meant to be enjoyed and shared generously, not hoarded:
Ecclesiastes 3:12-13 – “I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.”
1 Timothy 6:17-18 – “Command those who are rich…to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.”
Luke 12:33-34 – “Sell your possessions and give to the poor…For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
Proverbs 11:24-25 – “One gives freely, yet grows all the richer; another withholds what he should give, and only suffers want. Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will himself be watered.”
3. Be Forgotten – Living for God’s Glory, Not Our Fame
These verses remind us that the goal is to glorify God, not ourselves:
John 3:30 – “He must increase, but I must decrease.”
Galatians 6:14 – “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ…”
Matthew 6:1-4 – “Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them…your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”
Psalm 115:1 – “Not to us, Lord, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness.”
Isaiah 40:8 – “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.”
What if we blended these three ideas into a single vision for living?
Die Empty – exhaust your gifts, leave nothing undone that your heart calls you to create.
Die with Zero – savor your resources while you’re alive; don’t hoard what could have been joy or generosity.
Be Forgotten – don’t cling to legacy or fame; let your life point to something larger than yourself.
Together, they outline a counter-cultural but liberating path: Live fully, give fully, and release the need to be remembered. You pour out your talents and your wealth for meaningful work and for people you love, and you do it in service of something transcendent—whether that’s your faith, humanity, or the next generation.
This aligns with Viktor Frankl’s insight that humans thrive when a purpose beyond pleasure or power guides their lives. It’s also ancient wisdom echoed in Scripture: “Whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.”
A possible summary mantra could be:
Create what only you can create. Share what you have while you can. Then step aside so the story isn’t about you.
That’s a life well-spent—productive, joyful, and meaningful, all at once.
Social media has brought an enormous leap in connectivity between people. It eliminated intermediaries that once controlled information and democratized areas that used to be dominated by gatekeepers.
At the same time, it has brought intense side effects: it has amplified extremes, fueled aggression, and heightened anxiety. The neurological consequences are already felt on a global scale.
On the other hand, if we try to restrain the freedom that the internet has given us, we face another problem. We become even more vulnerable to control by governments and conglomerates, often without even realizing what is happening around us. This leaves us with two options:
- remain unaware and be run over by events, suffering the consequences of ignorance;
- or stay connected, but at the cost of neurosis.
Some may argue that a similar phenomenon occurred when television became accessible to the masses. But the intensity now is incomparable.
We can consider adopting methods suggested by authors such as Cal Newport, Jaron Lanier, and Neil Postman. Their proposals aim to reduce the impact of data overload without letting us be completely consumed by it. Yet, they often leave us somewhat detached, reliant on intermediaries.
Furthermore, almost none of these works address two crucial issues today: the Dead Internet Theory and Artificial Intelligence.
Until we find a solution, we continue to walk a tightrope—balanced between anguish and ignorance.
The most valuable thing I’ve gained from stepping away from social media is this: We are constantly bombarded by noise. It clouds our thoughts, weakens our attention, and pushes us toward the average — the easiest opinions, the quickest reactions, the loudest takes. In that flux, clarity is rare, and poor decisions become routine.
Some contemporary composers, as well as cultural thinkers more broadly, suggest that noise can be embraced and even enjoyed. But that can only be true if there’s a cognitive pattern behind it — something that offers structure, something we can think with. Without that, there is no line of thought to follow. Noise, in this sense, is anything that resists contemplation.
Noise is the overflow of misinformation. It’s not just distortion — distraction, excess, and the dilution of meaning. It floods the mind with stimuli but offers no shape, direction, or pause for reflection.
Unless we train ourselves to listen through the noise, to filter and focus, we risk becoming passive receivers. We hear everything, yet absorb nothing. In a world saturated with sound and signal, the ability to truly listen may be the most essential discipline we can cultivate.
“Silence is the language of God. All else is poor translation.” – misattributed to Ludwig van Beethoven.
To get inspired, we must find a way to be quiet. Countless people retreat to reflect and recover. Lent is an ideal time to do it. Beethoven took long walks in nature to develop musical ideas. Claude Debussy – Found inspiration in the quiet contemplation of nature. Henry David Thoreau – Lived in solitude at Walden Pond to connect with deeper insights. Max Richter – Uses silence and minimalism as core elements in his music, often retreating into solitude for composition. Arvo Pärt – Known for his “tintinnabuli” style, he spent years in near silence before returning to composition. Björk – Frequently isolates herself in nature for inspiration, especially in Iceland’s quiet landscapes.
Pain reminds us that we have a limited and finite body, but it should also remind us that we are not our body; we only have a body. We are spirits, but if we think we are only a body, we will enter into continuous despair, suffocated by materialism, immediacy, and the anguish of avoiding discomfort. The awareness of who we are frees us from this finitude.
Once we are free of this conception of finitude, we can truly aspire to things greater than us. This can be reflected in the Zeitgeist; those who aim for trends are often stuck in their immediacy, whereas those who strive for superior aesthetics create timeless art, societal, or scientific pieces. This thought frees us from thinking only about our egos and allows us to live as a whole. Struggling to create is part of the process; it shouldn’t be avoided.
