Ordinary Greatness

We live in a time where the desire to be seen feels louder than ever. While our culture did not create this longing, the constant presence of social media has magnified it. Every scroll invites us to build a name, grow a platform, and ensure others see our greatness. Yet, this struggle is not new. From the very beginning, humanity has wrestled with the desire for recognition. In the story of Cain and Abel in Genesis, we see jealousy, comparison, and the longing to be favored. What existed then still exists now; it simply reveals itself in different forms. This reality forces us to confront deeper questions: Why are we so obsessed with being seen? Why do we feel the need for others to recognize our greatness?

This desire is especially evident in today’s younger generation. Many do not simply aspire to succeed; they aspire to be influencers—known, celebrated, and followed. This mindset has begun to shape the culture of sports in significant ways. Athletes can become more focused on being the best in the eyes of others rather than striving to become their best. Parents move their children from team to team in search of greater recognition, and coaches leave positions because they feel underappreciated or overlooked. However, this issue is not confined to sports; it reflects a much deeper human condition.

At some point, I was confronted with a hard, yet freeing truth: God calls most of us to live lives that appear ordinary in the eyes of the world. This becomes evident when we consider the twelve apostles. Jesus chose each of them with purpose, yet many of us struggle to name all twelve, much less articulate their individual impact. We tend to remember the “stars”—Peter, John, and Matthew—and the more dramatic moments, including great failures. But we rarely consider the others, those who did not stand in the spotlight or whose names are not as frequently mentioned. And yet, their faithfulness played a vital role in changing the world.

Like a team, the impact of the apostles was not built on a few prominent figures but on a collective commitment to faithfulness in the roles they were given. This challenges our understanding of significance. When we speak of an “ordinary” life, we do not mean an unimportant one. Rather, we acknowledge that, in the eyes of the world, most people will not achieve widespread recognition or influence. However, this does not diminish the meaning or impact of their lives. In many cases, it is the opposite. It is the quiet, consistent faithfulness of ordinary individuals that allows the light of Christ to shine most clearly in a world often consumed by the pursuit of recognition.

This kind of impact unfolds in everyday settings—within homes, locker rooms, classrooms, and countless unseen moments. It is in these spaces that lives are shaped, character is formed, and genuine influence takes root. When approached correctly, sports can serve as a powerful classroom for learning this truth. The purpose of sport should never be centered on being seen, but rather on working hard, pursuing one’s best, and being content with the role God provides. Whether one is placed in the spotlight as a star or serves quietly as a role player, both positions hold equal value and require humility.

This principle applies not only to athletes but also to coaches. I have wrestled with this reality in my own life. There were seasons when I believed that winning championships would lead to greater opportunities, increased recognition, and a broader platform. If I am honest, that belief at times became a primary motivation. Even now, I must remain vigilant against that tendency. As I continue working to help others pursue excellence in faith and sport, I find myself tempted to compare, noticing those with larger platforms or greater visibility. In those moments, I am reminded to intentionally recenter my focus on the true mission: placing God first and valuing others above myself. The goal is not recognition, status, or influence, but faithfulness.

Ultimately, true joy is found in accepting what God desires for our lives. This requires a deliberate rejection of the world’s standards and a commitment to a different path—one that prioritizes service over admiration, obedience over recognition, and faithfulness over fame. In this we become intimately known. The truth, though simple, carries profound weight: the world may never see our names, but God knows our faithfulness. And in the end, that is more than enough.

-Coach Field