The beauty of a hidden life

Christians of my generation were raised on the idea of “doing hard things” and living “radical” Christian lives. We were supposed to do great things for God. But many of us now find ourselves in mundane 9-to-5 jobs or behind-the-scenes ministries. My current life is nothing compared to the stories of missionaries and martyrs that I was raised on. Against the background of a world in constant turmoil, is anything I’m doing making a difference?

Have you heard of Franz Jägerstätter? Franz lived an idyllic life in the Austrian mountains before he was drafted to fight for Nazi Germany. Against the advice of everyone, even fellow Christians, Franz refused to swear an oath of loyalty to Hitler. Everyone agreed that his resistance was not worth the price. Nazis and priests alike told him what he already knew — he would die, putting his wife and children through intense pain. His stance would not save any lives or stop Hitler. Eventually, Franz was imprisoned and beheaded. And from one perspective, the Nazis were right: his sacrifice made no discernible difference. Franz’s story wasn’t even told until decades after his death.

Franz refused to swear an oath of loyalty to Hitler. Eventually, he was imprisoned and beheaded

I found out about Franz after watching the film A Hidden Life. The title of this film comes from a quote by George Eliot: “The growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts… half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.” Eliot echoes Scripture here. In some way, even quiet acts of resistance to evil make a difference. Even those who live “unremarkable” but faithful and righteous lives, somehow, contribute to the betterment of the world. Or, to put it in Scriptural terms, the kingdom of God.

Your labour is not in vain

“Hidden” and “unhistoric” lives are the rule, not the exception. The majority of us are not going to be the next Billy Graham or Mary Slessor. And we’ve only to look through the Scriptures and the pages of Christian history to see a similar pattern. For every Jim Elliot, there are perhaps hundreds more missionaries who laboured for years in hostile lands with little (visible) fruit. There are countless martyrs like Franz who gave their lives for the faith with few tangible results.

But this is not how success is measured in God’s kingdom. The groups Jesus describes in the Beatitudes are notable only by their ordinary-ness. The poor in spirit, the suffering, the meek, the merciful. In the parable of the talents, the Master doesn’t compare the “success” of servants to each other; He asks what they did with their given talents. So, too, Christ will ask how faithful we were in the places He put us with the resources He gave us. The fruit of this labour is in His hands.

Most of us reading this will not be called to literal, physical martyrdom for our faith, but all Christians are called to die to self — a kind of daily martyrdom as we are conformed to the image of Christ. Your quiet service is no less necessary to God than those of great missionaries and martyrs. You may never know how He used you.

The greatest with the least

I don’t discount that God may call you to high-profile ministry — He may even call you to die for your faith, as Franz did and as Christians in many countries still do today. Nor should this foster lives of apathy. To look upon our daily lives not as necessary drudgery, but as opportunities to build the Kingdom and reflect the glory of God into our corners of a broken world — that’s radical!

Your quiet service is no less necessary to God than those of great missionaries and martyrs. You may never know how He used you

Citizens of heaven rarely lead easy lives on earth. Certainly, we are to attempt great things for God, but I think our definition of “great” may not always line up with His. Whether He calls you to change the world, or change diapers, die on the frontlines of the mission field or stand up for your faith in an office, be faithful. Don’t count the “success” of your life by the money you raise, the crowds you reach, the sermons you preach, or the number of converts.

The kingdom of God is built by poor widows and great philanthropists, crusade-leading preachers and pastors of tiny congregations. Parents, servants, farmers, and nurses will rub shoulders with apostles, presidents and kings. The most famous martyrs will be seated with the Franz Jägerstätters who died alone and unseen.

Both our visible and hidden acts of faithfulness are bricks in the city wall, seeds in a garden that the Lord will harvest. This is the miracle of the kingdom of God and the power of God’s sovereignty. And so, “beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord, your labour is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58).