The Cost Of Greatness

Cori Connors, of Farmington, Utah tells about how one Sunday afternoon her whole family gathered for dinner. Not long after the meal began her daughter Kate’s laughter rose above the talk. “Gramma, you’re silly!” she said. At that point everyone looked to see Cori Connors mother delicately lifting to her mouth a small strand of peas on the blade of her knife. All but one pea made it, and everyone clapped. Then Gramma told the story behind her unorthodox technique.

“When I was little we didn’t have much. It was the Depression. But we did have a table full of food because my father grew wonderful vegetables. Lots of hoboes who had jumped from the train wandered onto our property, looking for a meal. More often than not an extra seat was pulled up to our dinner table. One summer afternoon I was sweeping the kitchen floor when my father’s voice came through the screen door: ‘Lizzy, set another plate. We have company tonight.’ Our guest paused in the doorway, and dipped his head in a gesture of gratitude. ‘Looks like he doesn’t speak much English,’ Dad said, ‘but he’s hungry like we are. His name is Henry.’ When dinner was ready Henry stood until we were all seated, then gently perched on the edge of his chair, his head bowed and his hat in his lap. The blessing was said and dishes were passed from hand to hand. We all waited, as was proper, for our guest to take the first bite. Henry must have been so hungry he didn’t notice us watching him as he grabbed his knife. Carefully he slid the blade into the pile of peas before him, and then lifted a quivering row to his mouth without spilling a single pea. He was eating with his knife! I looked at my sister May and we covered our mouths to muffle our snickers. Henry took another knife full, and then another. My father, taking note of the glances we were exchanging, firmly set down his fork. He looked me in the eye, then took his knife and thrust it into the peas on his plate. Most of them fell off as he attempted to lift them to his mouth, but he continued until all the peas were gone. Dad never did use his fork that evening, because Henry didn’t. It was one of my father’s silent lessons in acceptance. He understood the need for this man to maintain his dignity, to feel comfortable in a strange place with people of different customs. Even at my young age I understood the greatness of my father’s simple act of humility.”

It was John Riskin who said, “I believe the first test of a truly great man is his humility. I do not mean by humility, doubt of his own power, or hesitation in speaking his opinion. But really great men have a feeling that the greatness is not in them but through them.”

So often when we think of greatness we equate it to everything but humility. According to the way we think greatness comes with power. It is achieved when we can control and manipulate and accumulate. It comes when others acknowledge our achievements and submit to our wishes. Greatness then becomes something within us that we have accomplished and that others acknowledge.

However the truth is that greatness does not reside within. Greatness comes as we humble ourselves for the sake of others. It is as we grasp that greatness is not something in us but something that comes through us. It is when we intentionally get out of ourselves and over ourselves in order to lift others up. It’s when we are willing to move out of our comfort zone in order that others might find acceptance. It means laying down our forks and being willing to eat peas with a knife.

However none of that should really surprise us. It’s the example that Jesus left us to follow. Philippians 2 tells us that He was exalted to the greatest place only after He humbled Himself for the sake of others to the point of sacrificing His life.

Do you want to be great? You can trust me on this one..... it will be a humbling experience!