The Beauty of Hidden Ministry
I count the signs in my folder: two, four, six, eight. Good. That’s all of them. Eight signs with little arrows pointing left, right, left.
I whip out the Scotch tape and stick them on the white-walled hallways of the warehouse-sized church. If I don’t put these up, people will get lost trying to find the room at the far end of the building where the support group meets.
The ministry I lead for women facing infertility and infant loss is hidden in more ways than one. While my church has been kind and supportive, many people in the community don’t know what we do, let alone that our group exists.
Like the room where we gather to talk, cry, and pray, our small assembly is tucked away in the back corner of Church. While I trust the Lord is working in the lives of the women who attend, sharing space with dust bunnies can make it hard to believe our ministry matters.
THE CHALLENGES OF SERVING UNSEEN
Within the body of Christ, many members serve off-stage, veiled by the confidentiality required of private conversations or the ordinariness of menial tasks. In the kitchen preparing food, at the soundboard running A/V, on the couch patting the back of a woman mourning her late husband. These saints labor invisibly, advancing the Kingdom in what seems like imperceptible ways.
Serving in near anonymity presents challenges. If your ministry flies under the radar of church activities, it can be difficult to reach the people you want to serve. Pastors, elders, and church secretaries might not give your contact information to parishioners seeking help because they don’t know what your ministry provides. While other ministries earn a mention during Sunday announcements, yours might not receive much recognition or support, financially or otherwise.
Besides practical disadvantages, serving in hidden ministry can stir feelings of neglect. You might wonder if church leaders appreciate that you’re toiling faithfully behind the scenes. You might question whether fellow believers consider your area of service important or needed. Though you serve out of love for and obedience to the Lord, the lack of recognition can weigh heavily on your already-weary shoulders.
It's hard to persevere when your out-of-sight ministry seems out of mind from other Christians and the rest of the world. Frustration can tempt you to question if you’re making a difference or merely wasting your time.
LOOKING TO OUR ETERNAL REWARD
While our laboring in hidden ministry can get discouraging at times, we must not lose heart. We know God wills and works in us for his good pleasure (Phil. 2:13). He created all things—visible and invisible—by, through, and for Christ (Col. 1:16). The very basis of our faith hinges on the conviction of things not seen (Heb.11:1), our hope grounded in the assurance that God has and will fulfill his promises through his Son.
Hidden ministry matters to the Lord. Not that he needs the works of our hands; he is Yahweh, God almighty, the king over all creation who accomplishes what he wills. For reasons we can’t fathom, he chooses to display his power through his weak and unworthy people. His grace continually renews us to display his glory on Earth. And, because we’re united with Christ in his death and resurrection, he’s preparing us to receive glory in heaven. Our lives are hidden securely in him (Col. 3:3).
Your ministry might never get top billing at a Christian conference or gain a significant number of social media followers. But that’s not the goal. We do good in the world, but not to be noticed by the world. Our motivation is the same as Christ’s: to please the Father. He sees what we do in secret and rewards us (Matt. 6:4).
Though serving in obscurity can dampen your spirit, the Spirit will bear fruit and reap a harvest in due season (Gal. 6:9). For we “look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (1 Cor. 4:18).
HOW TO PERSEVERE IN THE DARK
If God has called you to serve in hidden spaces, don’t despair. The one who knit you in the darkness of your mother’s womb sees and loves you still. He never forgets us or dashes our hopes like a parent who runs late and misses their child’s performance. As God’s beloved adopted children, we enjoy the inheritance he left us, the Spirit who dwells in us and strengthens us wherever we serve.
“If we’re full of biblical assurance, we won’t crave human validation.”
Following Christ’s example, we can accept our unseen assignments humbly and without complaint (Phil. 2:16). This continual laying down of our desire for attention requires that we take up the Word of life. For truth to guard our hearts against discouragement, to remember who sees us and why we’re serving in the first place, we need to immerse ourselves in Scripture. If we’re full of biblical assurance, we won’t crave human validation.
To press on under the weight of anonymity, we also need to kill our pride and ask for help. God created us to function as a body of believers moving in tandem. When ministry needs arise and we refuse to go to our church leaders or anyone else for assistance, we reject God’s design for his people to bear one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2). As Jesus stated in his most famous sermon, we do not have because we do not ask. Instead of trying to resolve the problem alone, we can make a call or send an email and give a brother or sister in Christ an opportunity to serve invisibly alongside us.
A GOOD CALLING
If you’re wiping countertops, filing receipts, driving a home-bound widow to Sunday service, or arranging PowerPoint slides for next week’s sermon, keep going. You might labor in secret, but you don’t labor in vain.
Glad and faithful obedience honors the Lord whether or not anyone sees it. He’s no more pleased with the nationally-known Bible teacher than he is with the rural church groundskeeper. Knowing that life lived for Christ is its own reward, you can endure isolation or lack of affirmation by enjoying this time of sacred communion—just you and the Lord, delighting in one another.
This thought makes me smile as I heave the box of supplies under my arm and begin walking down the hall, peeling signs off walls as I go. The custodian, Marty, nods at me, jangling the dozen-odd keys hooked to his belt. “Have a good night!” he calls out cheerfully. It is a good night. The work we do is good. I push the door as he flicks the lights, letting the shadows adorn our respective corners.
Jenn Hesse is a writer, editor, wife, and mother of two sons. She is the content developer at Waiting in Hope Ministries and has a passion for equipping others to know Christ through his Word. She writes at jennhesse.com and can be found on Twitter @jennmhesse.