War promises more glory than it can possibly deliver. When the call goes out, young men rush to sign up, eager to prove themselves in battle and ready to display their valor. They are promised their great deeds will be remembered forever, that their glory will never be forgotten. A grateful nation vows that even if they should make the ultimate sacrifice, it will forever hold them in its memory.
Yet every nation has memorials and cemeteries dedicated to that most tragic of all servicemen: the Unknown Soldier. Military cemeteries have entire rows and sections of stark white crosses inscribed simply, “Unknown.” Countless men have signed up or been conscripted with the promise of glory, only to receive anonymity. They were promised they could make a name for themselves, but their names were instead erased. Many of them have now passed out of memory altogether, so that not only are they no longer remembered, but they are no longer grieved. Such is the tragedy and indignity of war.
The world has a way of forgetting its heroes, of promising them more than it can ever make good on. But heaven will forget none of its heroes, none of those who labored diligently for the Lord. Heaven will give to each man and each woman the recognition they deserve for their faithful service to the Lord—recognition they will gladly cede to the one who called them to his service and who kept them faithful to his cause.
There will be many surprises on the day the Lord calls us all to give an account. I am convinced that one of the greatest surprises will be this: that those who have received the least acclaim on earth may receive the most acclaim in heaven. In fact, God’s Word tells us that many of those who are first will be last and many of those who are last will be first. The least names on earth may be the greatest in heaven, while the greatest names on earth may be the least in heaven.
The least names on earth may be the greatest in heaven, while the greatest names on earth may be the least in heaven.
We tend to lump all human beings together as if all are equally capable, all are equally gifted, and all have equal opportunity. If this is the case, then we are right to give the greatest acclaim to those with the most visible accomplishments. But God says he will distribute rewards relative to what he has entrusted to us. From the one to whom he gave much wealth, much gifting, and much opportunity, he will require more than the one to whom he gave little.
In heaven, the servant who was faithful with one talent may tower high above the servant who was faithful with five, even though the visible results of that faithfulness may be much less. The widow who gave her two copper coins may prove to be more faithful than the entrepreneur who donated billions to Christ’s cause. The person with a profound cognitive disability who was as faithful as she knew how to be may receive more acclaim than the most gifted and most able Christian leader who wrote books, founded institutions, planted churches, and is remembered through the ages. The person who is deemed to be most like Jesus is as likely to be a person none of us have heard of as a person all of us have heard of, for he was extraordinarily faithful with the little entrusted to him.
We honor the man who was seen to be valiant in battle and rightly so. Yet we know that many of the most valorous deeds were undoubtedly done by men whose greatest hour and final sacrifice were witnessed only by the soldiers who fell alongside them. The bravest of men are known only to the One who sees all things. And so too the greatest of Christians, for these are the ones who receive what God has given, whether much or little, and who joyfully, willingly, and faithfully steward it toward the greatest of all goods—becoming like Jesus so they can behave like Jesus and thereby give glory to Jesus.
This article was inspired, in part, by the sermons of De Witt Talmage.
