As Someone Else

  

Sometimes I feel like I’m living someone else’s life. Like when I look at myself from the outside, it doesn’t always feel like me. It feels like someone who’s trying to live up to the heroes of our history... as if I have to do something great... but I know I’m not great. I feel that more... now... being with Him. (Andrew, The Chosen)

At a table reading of the script for the second season of the television series, The Chosen, Noah James—who plays Andrew, one of Jesus’ disciples—read the lines above. When he said them, I heard echoes of it in my own life.

The allure of greatness has not eluded anyone. Many, myself included, have at some point attempted to do significant things that would give them a preeminence akin to the good men and women written about in the Bible or the prominent individuals in contemporary history or the role models of our time. We study renowned personalities who’ve had exemplary achievements and made a difference during their lifetimes. We longed to follow in their steps and do similar exploits in order to leave the world a much better place.

These are not corrupt desires. We were created in the image and likeness of God, the longing for greatness is in our DNA; we were meant to be the head and not the tail. [Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps over the earth.” Genesis 1:6] What messes us up is our definition of ‘greatness’ that deviates from God’s perspective of it (and the motivations with which we want to attain it).

Andrew’s words reveal that he thought greatness was to ‘live up to the heroes of our history’ by doing ‘something great’—Noah built an ark, Abraham was commended by God for his faith, Joseph saved the nation from a famine, Moses liberated the Israelites from oppression, Gideon routed the enemies of Israel in battle, David defeated Goliath, Solomon built a temple for God—and saw those deeds as something to aim for. As such, he must’ve felt the weight of those high expectations squarely on his shoulders; not unlike us.

Most of us (or all of us?) were taught at home and in school, as children, to strive for excellence. In church, we were exhorted to find our purpose and do great things for God. In our careers, we were expected to advance and attain the pinnacle of achievement. This is a direct result of how modern society defines greatness: as a superiority of skill, talent, personality, and intellect—Shakespeare impacted cultures around the world with his literary genius, Martin Luther reformed the church, Albert Einstein revolutionized modern physics, and Bill Gates is one of the richest man in the world for being ‘a leading force in the development of the home computer revolution’. The lesson we take home, inevitably, is that if we are not like these men and don't possess their qualities, we are not great; and because we are not great, we can't do great things.

The problem with Andrew’s and modern society’s definition of greatness is its smallness; the irony! Our myopic interpretation has only allowed us to view it through the lens of our own inadequacies. God, however, defines greatness in this manner: “...whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever desires to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be waited on but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many...” (Matthew 20:26-28)

When we follow the world’s standards instead of God’s, it often leads to a treacherous path we have no business trudging on. In Andrew’s case, it led him to a crisis of identity. Was what he aiming for what he wanted to do with his life? Or were they born out of the expectations placed upon him? Were his beliefs really what he believed in or did he believe in them because that’s what everyone else believed? Don’t we feel the same way at times? I certainly have.

We get lost in our goals, our dreams, and ambitions that when we reach the other side, we question if it’s what we wanted all along and rue who we have become in the process. Sometimes we go as far as hinging our worth based on how our journey towards ‘greatness’ is going, how we measure up with others, and criticizing ourselves for not meeting society’s expectations. This is largely due to the reality that we think our ability (or inability) to do something phenomenal and noteworthy that leaves a legacy for the world to benefit from is directly correlated to our emotional and intelligence quotients, people skills, leadership, business acumen, etc. We think that it all depends on our own strength. Hubris! Unbeknownst to us, we allow those thoughts to shape our identities outside of who we should be. As a result, like Andrew, we feel we are ‘living someone else’s life’.

Andrew already knew that he wasn’t great, based on the world’s definition of greatness, and it made him feel like an impostor in his own life. But when he started hanging out with Jesus, saw the miracles, and listened to his words, I think Andrew recognized something in Jesus and it made him feel more of a fraud. Being in close proximity with the Light of the World does that, doesn’t it? He shines brightly on our weaknesses and exposes our dire need for a Savior.