In case you were wondering, I thought it’d be appropriate to explain the name.

To begin, I have to first admit that I’ve struggled with the elitism that so often puffs up the Christian. Even though, in order to be saved, one must recognize they’re a sinner and therefore wretched and therefore desperately in need of God’s grace through Christ’s atonement, it’s easy, after having become a Christian, to forget all that past wretchedness and to wallow in one’s own righteousness.

It’s easy to think highly of my improved life, my sanctification. It’s easy to look on others as did the Pharisee of Luke 18 and think, “Thank God I’m not like THAT person.”

And this all stems from the extremely misinformed, ridiculous, and blind notion that I’m not all that bad. In fact, I’m actually a pretty good person compared to others, and, well, gosh darn it, I’m really sort of the best at what I do. Not only am I NOT the loser type of sinner, I serve quite a bit in the church and I do such a good job of it. I’m more the righteous type of sinner. In fact, I pray some of the most eloquent prayers, I fill my library with the best books, I give the best sermons, and I say the most encouraging comments at the most appropriate times – I’m pretty amazing, really.

This brand of pride flies in the face of so many scriptures. Specifically, there is one in particular that has over the years shaken me from this kind of smug complacency, and that’s 1 Corinthians 4:1

“So then, men ought to regard us as servants of Christ and as those entrusted with the secret things of God.”

You may read that and think, “What’s so special, convicting, and hard hitting about that?” Well, nothing about that English translation really captures what it is that shattered my pride – it’s all in the Greek.

See, Paul didn’t simply write that we ought to be regarded as “servants” but actually that we ought to be regarded as “under-rowers” of Christ – that is, “huporetes” of Christ.

In Roman culture there were many different kinds of slaves and servants, but there was one group in particular which was more insignificant than the rest. These were the under-rowers, the slaves who sat in the bellies of ships, propelling vessels through the seas by their endless routine of rowing. Ben-Hur comes to mind. These people did rough, back-breaking work, and they did it without recognition. No one who stood on the upper deck gave the slightest thought to these under-rowers, yet they performed the most needed, difficult work on that ship.

And so I ask myself, can I be an under-rower? Can I be like those slaves who are nameless and faceless? One who works not for recognition, but solely for the name of Christ?

According to 1 Corinthians 4:1, when people see me they ought to regard me as the under-rower of Christ… 

Can we be so humble as to serve as under-rowers?