Small servants of a great God

In Christianity, the things we naturally value and prioritize are continually being upended and overturned by things we might consider weaker, lesser, or more simple. We see, for instance, that knowledge and intellectual standing, though it wins us approval and acclaim from both the church and the world, is incomplete and can even be a hindrance if not accompanied by good works of love and service. We find that power is not to be sought after, because in our weakness we learn our great need for the grace of God, humility and dependence are allowed to bear fruit, and our hearts grow near to Him. We read that

"God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty, and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are" - 1 Corinthians 1: 27-28

So I think the chance to write, or to say, or to do something undeniably great or profound - something that will attract attention and garner respect - is often a temptation from which we ought to flee. I don't mean that we shouldn't attempt to do great things for God, or share the insights He has given us about life or from His Word, but I do mean that we should often do these things in a sort of secrecy, not letting our right hand know what our left hand is doing: saying and doing what is right, because it is right, regardless of who or how many notice or how they respond. It is often easy to do something challenging and hard when we are winning praise and admiration for our effort; it is not so easy to do the same thing when no one notices we are even trying, and gives us only scorn and discouragement when they do notice. But in the second case, we learn to rely on the strength and approval of God instead of men, and we learn to swallow our pride and our ravenous hunger for attention and recognition.

And think about it. Do we really want to be the wise and the mighty in this world? Do we want to grow so great in the eyes of our fellow men (and often ourselves) that we forget how small we are in the presence of God, or begin to avoid His presence for the precise reason of avoiding that feeling of smallness? Do we want, in the end, to be put to shame by the weak and foolish things, by the people we have despised in our own self-absorption and upward climb? Wouldn't we rather humble ourselves now, and share in the glory of God later, when we will be free of the miserable burdensome urge to claim that glory as our own? He Himself, though by nature and by right the most glorious Being in all infinity, became small and weak and despised, that by descending into the lowest parts of the earth He might raise up us all to be with Him in glory. If we long to know Him more and to become more like Him, then it only makes sense that we too ought to descend into humility and lowliness, to serve when service is hard and inglorious, that we might be like our Lord and Savior. And as He who descended is also He who ascended into all the heavens, so only when we descend with Him into suffering and death - the death of our own pride and self-centeredness - can we truly ascend into liberty, beauty, and glory.