A few days ago, our friends from church who now live in another town met with an automobile accident. By God’s grace, their injuries were minimal but the wife was admitted to a hospital close to our home.

When we visited Sarah (name changed) at the hospital, I was surprised to see another acquaintance, a quiet young guy from our church, standing in the corridor.

“Oh hey, John,” I greeted him and he smiled back politely.

My assumption was that John (name changed) knew the couple who had been in the accident and was at the hospital to support them. When he was out of earshot, I asked Sarah’s husband how he knew John.

“Oh, I don’t know him,” he responded. “In fact, I met him for the first time this morning.”

Turns out, when John heard about the automobile accident and subsequent hospital stay, he volunteered to help, though he’d never met Sarah or her husband.

Even though he is relatively new to our city, he learned the bus routes and traveled for two hours to get to the hospital. He then found Sarah’s husband and proceeded to tell him that he could help with the paperwork, including dealing with the hospital’s insurance department.

“When I met him this morning, he said something about insurance, and for a moment I thought he was from the insurance department,” Sarah’s husband said with a laugh.

I don’t know John very well (apart from exchanging a few hi’s at church), and I learned that he is between jobs right now.

But here’s what I do know:

He could have stayed home and moped because his own life is not in perfect order.

He could have “best used” the time to send out resumes or prepare for interviews.

He could have been self-focused–no one would have raised an eyebrow because the guy didn’t even know the couple who were involved in the accident.

Instead, he chose selflessness over self-pity. He chose to ask, “What can I give?” instead of “What can I get?”

Instead of worrying about God’s will for his future, he chose to obey God in the right now. For him that meant putting one foot in front of the other, climbing on a bus, traveling for a couple of hours, and being mistaken for an insurance agent.

I doubt John thinks of himself as an “influencer” or as someone who inspires others. But that day, as I saw him on the sidelines and heard his story, I caught a glimpse of the beatitudes in action.

Jesus preached a powerful message in Matthew 5 that completely turned the world’s values on its head.

When large crowds gathered to learn more about this miracle-working Rabbi, he didn’t pander to them with  “You do you” theology or preach about how to win people over or live your dreams.

He said wildly startling things like, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” (I mean talk about alienating an audience right from the get-go.)

He said stunningly strange things like, “Blessed are the meek,” and “Blessed are the merciful.” The crowd probably wanted to know if this Rabbi could teach them how to shake off their oppressors. But He was telling them to embrace poverty of spirit and meekness of soul. There is a beautiful blessedness in being a living sacrifice.

The world preaches a self-focussed “me-ology” where from a very young age we are coached to grab what belongs to us. We are compelled to climb the ladder even if it’s at the expense of others. Culture coaches us to “make something” of ourselves. But Jesus? He “made Himself of no repute.” He poured out Himself. He said to His Father, “Not my will but yours be done.”

Jesus says the very same thing to us as He did to the Jews gathered on a mountainside in Galilee: Embrace the strange and beautiful discipline of laying down your life.

One step of obedience at a time. One bus ride at a time. One case of mistaken identity at a time. You and I may not fit the bill of “influencer” but we can always be someone’s “insurance agent.”

---

If what you read resonated with you, SUBSCRIBE to my newsletter for FREE so you get my posts delivered straight to your inbox. Or you can follow my Facebook or Instagram pages for more encouraging content. Thank you so much for stopping by.