Do I Really Care Who Gets the Credit?

At our house, I get credit for a lot of things. Usually, it’s my ability to lose things, but occasionally my husband or children will acknowledge I keep the place running and make it a “soft” space to land.

One thing I do not get credit for is my mathematical prowess. Probably because it doesn’t exist. When my oldest son was in first grade, I tried helping him learn multi-digit subtraction using a method quite different from the traditional process I learned as a kid. After fifteen minutes of studying the homeschool teacher’s manual, I finally wrapped my brain around the concept, and said, “Okay, son. I think I understand. Let’s get started with your lesson.” To my surprise – and with a slight twinkle in his eye – he responded, “No need, Mom. I already finished it.” Every problem was complete and correct and complied with the new process he comprehended before I did.

Maybe that’s when the running joke started that Mom doesn’t do math. Even if their dad had a late arrival from work, our kids preferred to wait for his help with homework rather than accepting mine. I recently found a Mother’s Day card one son wrote me in elementary school. In the list of things for which he was grateful was this statement: “Thanks for helping us with our homework; well, you tried, anyway.”

When you’re married to a man with three math degrees, you quickly learn you don’t belong in the limelight as far as math is concerned.

Father Strickland, an English Jesuit, once said, “I have observed, throughout life, that a man may do an immense deal of good, if he does not care who gets the credit for it.” Or as legendary UCLA basketball coach, John Wooden, said, “It is amazing how much can be accomplished if no one cares who gets the credit.”

These words are a convicting reminder to one so prone to wanting my back scratched, my name admired, and my works noticed. When in reality, there is only one who demands and deserves the credit – not because He’s self-absorbed or insecure, but because He is God. Romans 11:34-36 reminds us,

“For who has known the mind of the Lord,
    or who has been his counselor?
Or who has given a gift to him
    that he might be repaid?”

For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.

John 3 offers a beautiful and countercultural example of giving credit to God alone. John the Baptizer’s followers are miffed that his disciples are going to Jesus for baptism. Instead of demanding their loyalty, John the Baptizer shows his loyalty to Jesus by pointing his followers to him at the cost of losing them. 

I think he was able to see what I often do not: Giving God all the credit is not a cost, but the reward of our labors. The crowning glory of preparing the way for the Messiah was not preaching or baptizing, but handing over the mic and leaving room in the spotlight for only Jesus to remain. “He must increase, I must decrease.” (John 3:30)

Psalm 29:1 says, “Ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.” In his commentary, Matthew Henry says, “Give him your crowns; let them be laid at his feet; give him your scepters, your swords, your keys, put all into his hand, that you, in the use of them, may be to him for a name and a praise.”

Which leaves me wondering about my words and actions: Would Jesus really want credit for this? It’s a sobering thought, and one I need to take to heart more often. Because ultimately, I want my life to say, “He must become greater, I must become less.” In eternity, it’s not going to matter who knew me, who loved me, or who followed me. The focus will be on Jesus – knowing him, loving him, and following him. I’m looking for ways to step out of his spotlight and hand him the mic.