Wanting greatness feels selfish. Is it?
Can I be honest? I was nervous to publish last week’s essay. I was afraid of being misunderstood when I said we should pursue greatness because we all come to the table with different definitions and understandings of greatness. For many of us, striving to be great feels selfish because we’re afraid it’s purely self-serving.
When I’m talking about greatness, I’m talking about owning the God-given role of ruling and reigning. I mean embracing a mindset of growth and cultivation. I mean seeking to develop all the potential God has placed within us for the sake of adding good to the world and those around us. I mean living in a way that encourages the flourishing of everything within our domain.
To do these things, we need confidence. We need to be growing in excellence, strength, maturity, and competency. We need to multiply and use our talents unabashedly. We need to be pursuing greatness.
Godless human optimization
Here’s something I want to be clear about: biblical ruling and reigning is not glory-grabbing. It’s owning the authority and responsibility God has given us and exercising it under his authority.
Humanity’s attempts at greatness are often godless. I’m reading Atomic Habits right now with my son. It’s my third time reading it because I love that book. There is so much helpful wisdom and insight. But you know what’s missing? God.
There’s a whole world of teaching on productivity, mastering self, and human optimization, and a lot of it is really good. We’re drawn to it because, in part, it’s tapping into an ancient mandate: God’s call to rule, reign, cultivate, and guard things he has placed in our domain. But we can’t truly scratch that itch if we ignore the foundational reality that there is a God who created us for a purpose and has ultimate authority over all things, including our lives.
Glory-grabbing is in our blood
We need to live into the greatness God has purposed for us. To live with a sobered appreciation of the weight and significance of our lives. But it’s also right for us to be careful and watchful because we are prone to glory-grabbing and autonomous self-rule.
In the first couple of chapters of Genesis, Adam and Eve were a king and queen full of God-given authority to rule and cultivate the garden. They were tasked with extending God’s glory and their rule across the whole world.
But in Genesis 3, Eve was told that she could be “like God.” She could be God’s equal. She could rule autonomously. Become the god of her own life. She had glory, dignity, and purpose under God’s authority. But she was still tempted. When she reached out and took hold of the forbidden fruit, she was literally and physically grasping after God-likeness. And it made her less, not more. She was sold a lie, and she bought it.
To this day, we foolishly believe that greatness can be achieved apart from God. It’s a foolish lie that makes us less human and undermines our ability to rule and reign effectively. It’s a lie that promises us a better crown and then steals the one we have.
The great humility of Christ
Jesus didn’t forfeit his crown. Philippians 2 says that, though Jesus actually had equality with God, he did not count that equality as something to be grasped. Unlike Eve, unlike us, Jesus didn’t reach for autonomous rule. Jesus humbly submitted to the authority of God, and it made him more human, more kingly, more confident, more fruitful than anyone else.
A few years ago I read a devotion called "Wrapped in Humility” from the book Come Thou Long Expected Jesus. In it, Alistair Begg points out that Jesus humbled and emptied himself not by diminishing himself, but by putting something on. When we read that Jesus emptied himself, we might think he pulled an internal plug and drained his sense of self. But that wouldn’t be right. When Philippians 2 says Jesus emptied himself, it means he poured all that he was and is (which is significant!) into the role God had given him. He emptied all of himself, every drop, into being a man, a servant, a savior.
Jesus lived into greatness, and he showed us the way. In Philippians 2, greatness and humility are linked. Jesus was and is great, in part, because of his humility. Somehow we’ve adopted the idea that shrinking back is what humility looks like. But we cannot be great like him if we are withholding ourselves. Humility and greatness require pouring all that we are into the role that God has given us to play.
Receiving reality
As Seth Troutt says in Authentic Masculinity, “Our ultimate purposes are revealed to us, not determined by us.” And, “God defines reality. We receive his definitions.”
I want to receive His purposes and define my life by His reality. I am not God, but my life isn’t insignificant either. He has given me responsibility, ownership, and authority over my life and the things in my domain. It’s not humility to shy away from that. Humility obeys God by leaning in to His purposes. Humility lives into his call to greatness. Humility acknowledges that I have authority, but that authority has an authority.
To recap: True greatness isn’t grasping for self-glory and autonomy; it’s owning our God-given authority and responsibility and exercising it under his ultimate authority.
So yeah, it makes me a little nervous to talk about greatness because sin’s deceitfulness is real. But I’m not interested in pep-talking you into a godless, faux version of greatness that is often measured by an empty version of success. What you crave is purpose, meaning, impact, and the knowledge that your life has weight and significance. It’s satisfying, life-giving, and deeply enjoyable (dare I say fun) to take up the ownership and authority God has given you. I’m encouraged to live into true greatness, and my goal is to encourage you to do the same.

