Your ordinary Christian life is extraordinary - Devotion

Have you ever felt that your efforts to do good somehow don’t seem to “count” enough?

In our time, a subtle kind of legalism has emerged. It suggests that there is an invisible scale measuring goodness, a catalogue of compassion where certain acts carry more weight than others. In this way of thinking, moral worth is earned through visible causes rather than received as a gift.

In this mindset, acts of service are ranked like Olympic events. Changing your child’s diaper or being a diligent employee doesn't score that high. To move up in the goodness catalogue, you are told you may need to show off "nobler" endeavours: travelling to distant continents, championing global social causes, rescuing street dogs, engaging in street activism, adopting the latest mandatory language of the day, or sharing social media posts about preserving (insert endangered animal). And of course, you need to be on the right side of History.

While many of these things can be genuine acts of love, what has changed is not that people care, but that caring has often been turned into a scoreboard. The temptation is to believe that what truly matters must always be bigger, farther, or more noticeable.

And, of course, if you don't take a selfie while doing it, did it even happen?

 

When people ask, "What are you doing to help/change the world?" it often feels like an interrogation rather than a question. We often fall into the trap of trying to justify our existence by listing our  accomplishments, especially the visible ones.

The problems is this: if someone challenges us in our "good doing", he or she isn't looking for a good answer, but looking for the challenge itself. Why? Because there is no end of need in the world, and we cannot tend to them all. The moment we try to defend ourselves, listing our charitable activities like credentials at a job interview, we've already lost. We've accepted the premise that our worth must be proven, our faith justified by a performance review. 

The exchange could go like this.  You named one good deed. But then another unmet need is raised. And another. “What are you doing about the homeless downtown?” “Have you opened your home to refugees?” "Are you involved on the front lines of crisis care?" Because of the fact that an interrogation is underway, it is usually about finger pointing, not about celebrating a helping hand.

The world’s needs are infinite, so you will always "fail" their test. You cannot tend to every wound in the world, and trying to prove you are "doing enough" is a race with no finish line.

As Christians, we view "goodness" through a different lens. We aren't climbing a ladder; we are bearing fruit. 

The apostle Paul writes, “I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that was given you in Christ Jesus” (1 Corinthians 1:4). Everything begins there. Before any action, before any decision, before any service, there is grace given in Christ. v God. Therefore, a "good work" isn't defined by its scale, its distance from your home, or its "trendiness" on social media. A good work is simply the fruit of faith in Christ. Because we are already saved, justified in Christ, our lives are free to become fruitful rather than frantic.

We often overlook the "small" things that hold the world together. If you are a Christian living your vocation, everything you do helps the world. This includes, for example:

• Keeping the Ten Commandments.
• Caring for the people physically closest to you.
• Paying your taxes and being an honest neighbour.
• Teaching your children to pray.
• Attending Church and sharing the Word. 

And many more invisible, un-photographed, "not-clickable" actions that flow from a nurtured faith.

Is travelling to a poor country noble? Yes. Is rescuing an animal wonderful? Absolutely. These can be beautiful fruits of faith. But not the only ones, and neither the ones we need to prioritize at all costs. They are not more holy than the quiet, hidden faithfulness of a parent, a worker, or a friend.

 

When faced with the pressure to justify your life, remember two things:

• Acknowledge our limits: We all fall short of fulfilling God’s will perfectly. We don't need to pretend we are saving the world on our own strength.
• Trust your vocation: Everything done in Christ matters. From the largest mission trip to the smallest act of patience with a difficult neighbour, you are acting as the hands and feet of Jesus.  

The next time someone challenges you with that loaded question about what you're doing to save the world, remember: you don't owe them an inventory of your charity. You don't need to compete in the moral Olympics. You are called to live in faithfulness, including the small and ordinary things; to love your neighbour (starting with the one closest to you), and to walk humbly, acknowledging that, apart from Christ, all our righteousness falls short.

While viral acts of charity performed for the camera may still help someone, we don't downplay what Christians quietly, faithfully are doing, living out their vocations—loving God and loving neighbour, one unglamorous day at a time. 

Your life lived in faith, small or big, is exactly what the world needs.

Your ordinary life is extraordinary in Christ.

With or without a selfie.