My time had finally come. I was about to be famous. I had patiently waited my whole life, which at that time amounted to about twenty years, for this opportunity.
Someone asked me to do a voice-over for a promotional video for the college I was attending. While that sounds impressive, my job was merely to interpret for a deaf friend who was recording a 4-second statement about his educational experience. With exciting ambitions about my budding new career in advertising, I showed up to transform his signs into audible words. All nine of those words.
The big day finally arrived—the day when they unveiled the new video to the student body. With bated breath I waited for my talented voice to boom out across the auditorium. Finally my friend appeared on the screen, but the accompanying voice was not mine. Apparently they had some issues with the sound, so some guy had taken my words, and with his professionally trained voice, embedded them into the video.
My budding career in promotional media crumbled before my eyes. I would never become famous.
Don’t we all, at some point in our lives, aspire to greatness and fame? We yearn for the masses to recognize us and scramble for a chance at our signature. Maybe we’ll get a star in Hollywood, or at least a brief mention in some obscure history book.
Somehow we get the idea that if people do not know us, we haven’t really lived.
I recently spent some time thinking about a guy in the Bible that didn’t buy into that frame of thought. I wish I could tell you his name, but I don’t know it. And that’s the point. All I know is that he was the dude who carried the armor for Jonathan, the son of King Saul.
The Philistines had oppressed the Israelites so much that the only weapons found within Israel belonged to Saul and Jonathan. The future looked bleak for the distressed people of Israel.
One day Jonathan and his unnamed armor-bearer decided that enough was enough. Jonathan challenged a cluter of Philistine soldiers camped out on a cliff to a battle and they readily accepted. Why not? The odds were clearly in their favor. Twenty Philistines against two Israelites. And the two Israelites had to climb a steep hill on their hands and knees before they could even start fighting.
That is exactly what they did. Jonathan led the way, followed by his armor-bearer. When they reached the top, they decimated the whole band of astonished Philistines.
We usually think of the bravery of Jonathan when we read this account. After all, he led the two-man charge with no guarantee of success. He just knew that “it may be that the Lord will work for us. For nothing restrains the Lord from saving by many or by few” (I Samuel 14:6). God could win the battle, but would He?
To me, the armor-bearer is the human hero of the story. He doesn’t get the credit. Prince Jonathan overshadowed him. He just did what he could do. He didn’t bargain with Jonathan. There was no, “I’ll go fight with you, but make sure I get partial credit.” He just did what was right.
And how did he go down in the history books? Just as Jonathan’s armor-bearer. An anonymous servant whose bravery rivaled that of his master.
So often the hardest workers do not get credit. When a NASCAR driver wins a race, he gets the trophy and interviews. But what about the crew who has spent countless hours fine-tuning the car and tirelessly laboring to shave a fraction of a second off the pit stop routine? Nobody talks about them.
Are you willing to serve just as faithfully without recognition? There is only one way to find out. Next time you put your heart and soul into something and no one applauds you, evaluate your attitude. If you become discouraged or upset, maybe you have the wrong motives.
Sometime no one recognizes the true heroes, but that’s okay. They’re doing it for other reasons.
