The Second Fiddle

You know his name. When he is brought up in conversation, you immediately think of his courageousness, his optimism, and his encouraging story. Through a unprecedented disease, Lou Gehrig became etched upon the heart of America. The legend of the diamond is remembered for having battled on the field and off--through 2,130 consecutive games, and through a terminal illness that eventually bore his name. As his muscles literally squeezed his life out from him, Gehrig stepped under the spotlight, he became an overnight hero--a title that he never claimed to want, a title that he never ordinarily sought.

Today, not many people remember that the Yankee first-baseman never was the star of the team. He had a teammate who gladly basked in stardom. You might have heard of him, his name was Babe Ruth. It took Lou Gehrig’s Disease to make Lou Gehrig a star, but the fact remains that Gehrig had no complaints living in the shadow of the Great Bambino. Gehrig, went out and played everyday, played hard, and played for the success of the team--not for his own personal achievement. Yet, if it wasn’t for this work, the Yankees would had never achieved their greatness. This is a lesson that transcends the ball field; that selfless hard work, done not for the recognition but for the benefit of all, is what truly makes the world go-round.

It is important to remember that there is a need for those who stand on the stage; who act as the voice of motivation to all. The preacher, teacher, activist, and politician are all needed facets of any community. But for every one of these public representatives, there are an army of people behind the scenes repairing and cleaning the old worn out schools, organizing the rallies, managing the finances. For every speech written into the darkest hours of the night, there is someone there to top off a mug of coffee. For every warm meal served to a homeless family on a cold morning, there is a team of unknown but dedicated chefs giving it their all in the kitchen. For every missionary volunteering to give an education to the rural children of a third-world country, there are those back home working overtime to pay a mortgage while still finding a way to donate.

Even in the early Christian church there were those working behind the scenes. Most people will remember the apostles Peter and Paul, who spent their time spreading the gospel through their preaching. But few remember Stephen, the man drafted by the apostles to be the widow-food-distribution-coordinator. Stephen, although overqualified to wait tables, did not consider the job to be below him. Not until his martyrdom was he recognized, but before then he worked hard behind the scenes--doing the unglamorous deeds, the small deeds, the deeds that are quickly forgotten.

It seems as if our culture has developed a distinct notion of what it means to be successful. To be successful is to be famous, to have notoriety, and to be recognized. I contend that the true successful people in the world are those who did not live for themselves, but in every instance lived for the good of others. This may seem like a cliche idea, something that you can hear at any given church, by any given pastor, on any given Sunday. But I believe that there is true power in the cliche--it had to have become cliche for a reason.

There is true need to honor those who spent there lives in the spotlight. There are many who use their notoriety for good. How would this country look if Dr. King didn’t have the eyes of the nation upon him that fateful day in Washington D.C.? How would the world look if Gandhi did not take the opportunity to grab every journalist, photographer, and cameraman he could to record his march to the sea? I also wonder how the world would look like without the scores of people who we don’t know--who’s names are not necessarily forgotten, but were never really known in the first place--who gave their lives to serve, to work hard without recognition.

Without Lou Gehrig the Yankees would have never won as many championships as they did, but it was not until tragedy struck that he transcended into the limelight. As Stephen fell on his knees, being belting with rocks unto his death, he looked up and saw the heavens open up, and Jesus at the right hand of the father--not sitting, but STANDING upright for his faithful disciple. To all of the second fiddles out there, remember that your day in the spotlight will surely come--even if it's not in this lifetime. Nobody shall forget the Lou Gehrigs out there, the Stephens out there. For how would the world look without them?

-Dustin


"You were the best supporting actor
The unforeseen factor
You were the guy who yanked the chains behind the stage
If you had talked a little faster
Maybe dressed in alabaster
You’d have been the hero of the age

Well here’s your day in the sun, Lou
We see it now that you’re done, you
Are the luckiest man on the face of the earth
The luckiest man on the face of the earth

You always played the second fiddle
You were the guy just right of middle
You were the man who drove the car while others slept
If you had flashed a little fancy
Maybe been a little dancy
You’d have been the jewel that they all kept

You were consistently alive
You were the king of the line drive
There was always something about the way you followed through
And in the face of that disease
When the muscles start to squeeze
The life right out of you
When most men shudder at the dread
Here’s this thing you said
‘Bout being the luckiest man on the face of the earth"
-Don Chaffer