Hidden Servants
Michael Scott finally noticed it.
As he noticed the office plant life dying and his non-organized desk toys, he learned it had always been Dwight serving the office in the shadows.
This highlights one of my favorite scenes from The Office: when Dwight quit Dunder Mifflin. Dwight’s services are thus revealed as one devout to the office. His loyalty surpassed his co-worker, Andy’s. He served the office both in the public eye and in secret.
I call Dwight a Hidden Servant.
Defining Hidden Servants
I call “hidden service” the work by those with servant hearts. Only, it takes time for their impact to be seen.
This is in contrast to “explicit service,” when good works are loud and clear for anyone to see and perceive.
Hidden servants are content to perform their good works before an audience of One: God. They trust God is in control and therefore don’t fret if no one sees their labor.
Consider the legacy of Abraham Lincoln, who died in 1865, the same month the Civil War ended. It would be one hundred years before the death of Civil Rights Movement leader, Martin Luther King Jr.’s, death in 1968. Both of these figures paved the path for Obama’s presidency in 2009.
While Lincoln’s impact was on one hand, explicit, the legacy of his impact would take over 150 years before permeating into the larger soil of American culture.
The point is: a hidden servant’s work takes time for permeated impact.
The Arts and Hidden Servants
Arts serve as a hidden, yet pervasive, servants.
Consider the impact of Martin Luther’s songwriting. After almost 500 years, the global church still sings his hymns around the world. Most who sing them have never read his books. How many more sing not even knowing who he is?
The allusive material of art works over time in the shadows long after an artist has died. Museum are a living testimony to this.
Van Gogh barely sold any paintings during his lifetime.
Bach’s music took 100 years to gain popularity.
In a certain sense, we remain “alive” through the artifacts we put into the world after our deaths.
Like Tadashi in creating Baymax, our posthumous liveliness remains because of the fact that we made something.
200 year question
So, next time you set your mind on a project, act of service, work of allusive love, ask yourself, “what will this become in 200 years? How can I make this last 200 years after I am gone?