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One of the remarkable things in the world of sports is the long list of greatest athletes who excelled in their discipline, dominated their position, but never won a championship. Some examples are Dan Marino in football, Joe Thornton in hockey, Charles Barkley in basketball, or Ken Griffey Jr. in baseball. These are household names, people who dedicated their lives to their craft, who were the very best at what they did, and yet they never held that trophy at the end of the season.
It reminds us of something we don’t always like to admit: you can be excellent, faithful, dedicated, and still not finish in first place.
Which would accurately describe the prophet Jeremiah in our first reading. He was one of the greatest prophets of the Old Testament. He was consecrated by God, called before he was even born, to speak the word of the Lord. He poured himself into that vocation. But if you measure his life by outward success, Jeremiah comes up short. He never won over the crowds. He wasn’t celebrated or honored by his people. In fact, he was rejected, mocked, persecuted, even thrown into a cistern to die. By worldly standards, his mission looked like failure.
And yet, Jeremiah was faithful. He did what God asked him to do. He spoke the truth. He lived the mission entrusted to him. Although the world never crowned him with success or embraced his teaching, Jeremiah’s words planted the seeds of conversion in God’s people, his faithfulness advanced salvation history, and his life was vindicated by Lord.
That is an important reminder for us, because so often we are tempted to measure our discipleship, our lives of faith, by the world’s scoreboard. We ask ourselves: Am I “successful” at this? Do people like me? Is it paying off? Am I being rewarded?
And perhaps one of the strongest temptations is to think that if everyone is happy with us, then we must be doing something right. We tell ourselves that being a Christian means “getting along” with everyone, never rocking the boat, never saying or doing anything that might cause tension. But Jesus tells us in today’s Gospel that following Him will sometimes bring division. His truth doesn’t always fit neatly into the world’s comfort zones. The fire He came to cast on the earth purifies and transforms, but it also unsettles.
So, if our main goal is to be popular, to be everyone’s buddy, we may miss the very mission God has entrusted to us. True faithfulness will sometimes mean standing apart, speaking up, or living differently.
This is not to say that we should go around picking fights or stoking controversy. Jesus is not glorifying a contrarian mindset or suggesting that conflict proves we are on the right track. For example, Jeremiah himself became discouraged at times by the resistance he faced and asked God if he was the right person for the job. He did not enjoy the rejection of his message and neither should we. But prospect of pushback and persecution did not prevent Jeremiah or Jesus from boldly proclaiming the truth.
Which offers us a chance to reconsider our criteria for success when it comes to discipleship. It cannot be measured in popularity, recognition, or worldly achievement. True success is doing the will of God: defending truth when it’s challenged, speaking out when we see something wrong, and living the unique plan God created for each of us. That’s what makes a life holy. That’s what makes a life fruitful.
The Letter to the Hebrews gives us powerful encouragement. We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses; saintly men and women who have run this race before us. They know the cost of faithfulness. They know what it means to endure rejection, hardship, and even apparent failure. And now, from their place in heaven, they cheer us on like a hometown crowd in a packed stadium. They urge us to power past every obstacle, to persevere, and to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, who is both the goal and the prize of the race we run.
The world may not always recognize or celebrate that kind of life. But God sees. God knows. And in His time, our faithfulness will be vindicated.
Think again of Jeremiah at the bottom of that cistern: sunk in the mud, abandoned, left for dead. From the outside, it looked like the end of the line, the failure of his mission. And yet God raised him up. God lifted him out. What looked like defeat somehow became a witness to God’s saving power. That is our hope too. When we feel stuck, when the mud of discouragement or failure clings to us, we can remember that we are not alone… the saints are cheering us on, Christ is with us, and we can trust that God will raise us up. Not because we were “successful” in the world’s eyes, but because we were faithful in His.
