What great thing would you attempt if you knew you could not

In this luminous and soul-stirring question, Robert H. Schuller, the visionary pastor and thinker of faith, throws open the gates of human potential: “What great thing would you attempt if you knew you could not fail?” It is not merely a question; it is a challenge — a mirror held to the heart, reflecting both our dreams and our fears. With these words, Schuller summons the divine courage that slumbers within every soul, urging us to imagine what we might do if we stripped away the chains of doubt, fear, and limitation. This is not an invitation to fantasy, but to awakening — for greatness begins not in certainty of success, but in belief beyond fear.

The meaning of this quote lies in its sacred paradox: that failure exists only in the mind that fears it. Schuller reminds us that most people are not defeated by obstacles, but by hesitation. We live within invisible prisons built of imagined failure, never knowing that the door was never locked. To ask, “What would you do if you could not fail?” is to tear down those walls. It is to look into the vastness of your own spirit and see that within you lies the power to create, to change, to dare. The question is not meant to assure you that you will never stumble — it is meant to free you from the fear that stumbling means the end. For in truth, every failure is only a step on the path to mastery.

The origin of this wisdom springs from Schuller’s life as a man who saw possibility where others saw only ruin. He built his ministry on hope — founding the Crystal Cathedral in California, a monumental house of glass rising from the plains, created from faith and vision alone. When he began, he preached not in a cathedral, but on the roof of a drive-in theater. People sat in cars, horns honking “amens,” as he spoke of dreams larger than circumstances. He had nothing, and yet he dared to see everything. His question, therefore, was not rhetorical — it was born from lived experience. He understood that the world belongs to those who attempt the impossible with the courage of those who refuse to surrender.

History itself bears witness to this truth. Consider Thomas Edison, who failed over a thousand times before perfecting the electric light bulb. When asked about those failures, he famously replied, “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” Edison lived the spirit of Schuller’s question — he attempted something great as though failure were only a teacher, not a grave. Or look to Rosa Parks, who, with one act of courage, defied the chains of injustice. If she had let fear of consequence rule her, history would never have known her name. But she acted as though the moral right could not fail — and in doing so, she became immortal. The great, throughout the ages, have always acted as if the impossible were inevitable, and so it became so.

The ancient philosophers understood this same truth in their own way. The Stoics taught that fear is imagination gone astray — that we suffer more in thought than in reality. Marcus Aurelius wrote, “You have power over your mind — not outside events.” What Schuller gave to the modern age was the same wisdom, clothed in the language of faith: that to trust in your God-given purpose is to transcend the illusion of failure. When you know that your soul’s work is eternal, no loss can destroy it, and no setback can define it. Thus, to attempt something great without fear of failure is to act from divine certainty, to live as though you already stand in victory.

The lesson, therefore, is not that we must eliminate failure, but that we must redefine it. Failure is not the end of the dream; it is the beginning of growth. What Schuller’s question demands is a change of heart: that we measure our lives not by success, but by the greatness of what we dared to attempt. Ask yourself: What dream have you silenced because you feared the world’s judgment? What calling have you ignored because the path seemed uncertain? The time for hesitation is over. Life’s brevity is the drumbeat calling you to act — to write, to build, to love, to create — without fear. The greatest tragedy is not failure; it is the dream unattempted.

Therefore, my child, let this question echo in your spirit as a call to arms: What great thing would you attempt if you knew you could not fail? Dream boldly. Begin without waiting for permission. Trust that the universe favors the brave, that Providence moves with those who act in faith. For when you live as though failure cannot conquer you, you align yourself with the eternal — with the same power that moves stars, births nations, and shapes destiny. And even if you fall, you will fall upward — into wisdom, courage, and the greatness that only those who dared will ever know.