Inspired by a sermon from Francis Chan.
Some places or environments may present themselves as spiritual or elevated, yet they can disrupt your inner stability if you’re not careful. A stage can do that. A microphone can do that. Ministry can as well. Discernment is important here.
The moment people start watching, you feel two competing pulls at the same time. One pull wants God, His holiness, His glory. The other pull wants approval, comfort, control, and a clean reputation. The second pull can get loud fast.
If you’ve ever tried to serve God while silently hoping everyone claps for you, you already know the problem. That craving turns ministry into a mirror. You keep glancing back at yourself.
A Strange Bible Command That Flips Our Instincts
Paul drops a line in 1 Thessalonians 4:11–12 that feels almost rebellious in our attention economy. “and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life… and to work with your hands… so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.”
Quiet ambition sounds backwards. The modern script says bigger platform, bigger impact, bigger influence. Scripture points to something steadier. Strong character, honest work, faithful love, and a life that makes sense to people watching from the outside.
Here’s what hit me. Paul says this to a church whose faith had already traveled beyond their city. Their influence existed. Their noise level stayed low.
Jesus Looked Ordinary on Purpose
If you want a quick reality check, ask a simple question. What was Jesus doing at 23?
Scripture keeps that season mostly quiet. We get carpenter language. We get ordinary family life. And we do not get a highlight reel.
That tells me something. The Son of God spent most of His earthly years practicing hidden faithfulness. He worked. He obeyed. And he lived with integrity. He prepared in the unseen.
Then, when His public ministry began, He still kept choosing hidden places. Mark 1:35 shows Him waking early, while it’s still dark, going to a solitary place to pray. His friends even come searching for Him with that familiar pressure. “Everyone is looking for you.”
Jesus stays rooted anyway. That’s the model.
Faithful in Small Things Builds Real Weight
Luke 16:10 says faithfulness with little grows into faithfulness with much. That principle sounds basic, yet it clashes with a lot of Christian ambition.
A lot of people want to lead crowds while their private life looks shaky. Paul gives the same warning to church leadership in 1 Timothy 3. He points to the home first. Marriage, children, reputation with outsiders. He talks about spiritual maturity, too. A new believer with a platform can get become lost fast and crash.
Giving someone attention before they have roots can turn gifts into fuel for pride.
Sometimes, the most loving thing a mentor can do involves giving you a mop instead of a microphone. Chairs to stack. Bathrooms to clean. Ordinary service that trains your heart to care more about God’s eyes than human eyes.
Secret Obedience Has Its Own Reward
Jesus speaks plainly in Matthew 6. Giving, praying, and righteousness carry power when they happen in secret. God sees what the room hides. God rewards what the crowd never notices.
That challenges the way we often live online. We hide the messy parts, then curate the holy parts. We cover the sin, then publish the “look at my quiet time” photo like a spiritual trophy.
Scripture pushes a different story.
- Confess sin to trusted people. Bring darkness into light.
- Do good quietly. Let the Father see it, and let that be enough.
Imagine a life where, after someone dies, the surprises lean in a beautiful direction. People discover years of generosity, unseen prayer, and quiet sacrifice. No scandal revealed. No secret double life. Just a trail of hidden faithfulness that finally comes to light.
Would God Trust You With a Miracle You Can’t Post?
Here’s a thought that feels both exciting and terrifying.
What if God wanted to show you more, tell you more, and do more through you, with one condition. Privacy.
There are moments in Scripture where God keeps things close. Jesus tells people not to broadcast certain miracles. Revelation 10 shows John hearing the seven thunders, then getting told to seal it up. One person hears it. The content stays locked away.
That idea pokes at our “share everything” instincts. Yet it also sounds like intimacy. Like God saying, “I’m trusting you with this.”
So the question becomes personal. Would a private reward satisfy you? Would an unseen miracle feel valuable? How about a word from God meant for your ears alone?
Or would you feel frustrated because it cannot boost your reputation?
Quiet Lives Can Spark Loud Movements
The irony here is that a quiet life often produces the kind of credibility that moves people deeply.
A Christian who works hard, loves well, pays bills, keeps commitments, confesses sin, and serves without applause has a certain weight to them. Outsiders may not agree with everything you believe, yet your life has a coherence they can respect.
Revival stories often begin in hidden places anyway. A few people praying when nobody watches. A few people obeying when nobody claps. And a few people living with clean hands and an uncluttered conscience.
That kind of holiness spreads like fire. It does not need marketing.
A Simple Challenge for the Rest of Us
Some people will have a big voice. God can handle that. He can lift someone up, and He can keep them humble.
Most of us will live quieter. That can become a gift instead of a disappointment.
Try this for a week.
- Do one good deed that stays between you and God.
- Spend time in prayer with your phone in another room.
- Confess a real struggle to a trusted believer, and ask for prayer.
- Work your job with joy and integrity, like Jesus in a workshop.
Quiet has power. Hidden obedience has weight. The Father sees it all.
And that can become enough.
I’m the writer behind Monk & Martyr. I don’t have formal seminary training, and I take comfort in the fact that Saint Francis of Assisi did not either. My “training” has been lived conversion and the slow work of following Jesus through real seasons of life. I write honest, Scripture-rooted encouragement that points back to one thing. You’re loved more than you know, and Christ’s grace is bigger than whatever you’re carrying.