Most would consider it third-place loser. Maybe worse. That is, if anyone is still paying attention once the names of first and second place are announced. Few stop to listen for the names of those who landed in third and fourth place. They’ve already folded their blankets and packed their lawn chairs before honorable mention is bestowed. No matter the verbiage in the title, it really isn’t an honor. Losing is still losing. The elaborate name doesn’t make it better. If you care.
She didn’t. Care, that is. She hadn’t come to listen to the traveling preacher speak because she wanted to get her name up in lights. She didn’t even know it was an option. She’d stopped to listen because she was genuinely interested in what he was saying. The fact her name was recorded likely escaped her notice. There was no announcement. No one asked her permission. No royalties injected life into her bank account. No first-edition author-autographed copy of the manuscript was delivered to her doorstep. It was probably like that for all the honorable mentions. Their names were worth writing, their stories weren’t. Nothing except the most important bits. They’d all been reduced to a few meager words that barely scratched the surface of who and what they were. Words that became their definition, the only things we know about them. For her, the words were few. Woman. Damaris. Believer.
One wonders why the author of Acts bothered to include her name. It’s almost an afterthought. Another quickly forgotten, rarely remembered, never acknowledged name tucked between the impressive stories of all the greats. There’s no clue to who she was. No mention of her past as there was of the possessed slave girl Paul delivered. Not a word about her career like that of the purple cloth dealer, Lydia. No lines lauding her character or actions as listed for Dorcas, the woman whose descriptors include disciple, charitable, and given to good works. There’s nothing written to recommend Damaris. No awards. No accolades. No accomplishments. There’s no way to know who she really was. No past. Only the present. Damaris, a local woman, chose to place her faith in Jesus Christ. She believed. Yet the scant fact was absolutely worth recording. (Acts 9:36-42; 16:11-18; 17:34)
We question how it could be. In our day of social status and public image, it is difficult to imagine such meager facts being worthy of print. They wouldn’t be today. Aren’t. There’s no ticker on your local news celebrating the number of people who believe in Christ for salvation in your Sunday morning service. In truth, we’ve all started keeping it rather quiet. Both outside and inside the church. Perhaps you’ve noticed our altars silently disappearing. There’s rarely an invitation for one to step to the front, making a public announcement that they are choosing to place their faith in Jesus Christ, choosing to change, choosing to step from darkness into light. Instead, we silently stand people at the exits to quietly pray with those who wish to secretly accept Jesus. No one ever has to know they made the choice. It never has to be public. Not inside or outside the congregation. Not so for Damaris. Everyone got to know. The people then. Us now. With not one particle of information to recommend her, we still have all we need to know in the writer’s proclamation. A woman named Damaris chose Jesus when a faction of the congregation opted out. It doesn’t seem like enough, doesn’t seem to do her justice, doesn’t seem completely fair, but it’s truly all we need to know. Damaris believed.
Knowing so little about someone whose name appears in such an important text isn’t something with which we are extremely familiar. We can’t type her name in our internet search engine and instantly find her life story. Age. Marital status. Number of children. Job title. It simply isn’t available. The lack of information nearly makes her invisible. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s the message the author was subtly attempting to convey. No matter how much there is to know about you–where you’ve come from, where you’ve gone, what you’ve done–only one thing matters. Faithful belief in the saving, changing power of Jesus Christ. Because, when everything has been settled and you stand before God with nothing of earth to recommend you, the only thing you need to know, the only thing anyone needs to know, will be this–did you believe?
The wise author of Ecclesiastes, king of Israel, lays it out honestly and from personal experience. He’s tried it all. Had it all. Was gifted with wisdom. Attained knowledge. Engaged in pleasure. Accrued achievements, accolades, and wealth and possessions. He worked hard. Yet, at the end of his writings, he came to the same conclusion we can make from the seemingly unimportant mention of Damaris. None of it matters. Nothing earthly is of any great eternal importance. Every act, both public and private, will be judged by God. The only thing that mattered then, matters now. Do you believe? (Ecclesiastes 1:12,16; 2:1-11; 18-24; 12:8-14; Acts 17:31)
It’s what defines you. Whether or not you believe changes you. Your words. Your actions. Your attitudes. It changes your motives. Just like Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount. We know it best for the Beatitudes, but they aren’t the only thing Jesus said there. He said a lot more. A lot about how we view ourselves and how we are known on earth. A lot about how hard we work to ensure people view us in the best possible light–whether or not it’s true. A lot about how much effort we put into reimagining ourselves, building our brand, staging our status. Jesus has some very pointed words about it. Words that make me think Damaris got the best deal of the lot of us. She can be known only for the one thing that mattered most. We, in our world of social media, can be known for a thousand things, but we may not be known for the thing that really matters. Whether or not we believe.
You see, friend, the sign of a true believer isn’t in a social media feed overflowing with your generous acts of charity, pious prayers and Scripture quotations, or records of your faithful fasting. Jesus said the one who wears a sandwich board advertising their own goodness and magnanimity has already received their reward. Earthly accolades. Media attention. Public awe and adulation. If you are engaging in spiritual or charitable acts to beef up your social resume, you have missed the brief. Instead, the sign of a true believer is in quietly serving, secretly giving, privately praying, silently fasting. They desire no acknowledgment or reward for their efforts. They seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness alone, not caring if their names are ever mentioned. They confidently rest in what they know to be true about themselves and their God. They believe. (Matthew 6:1-8; 16-18; 33)
There is no greater reputation, no bigger story, no more important legacy to leave behind than the fact that you are a believer. There is nothing else that matters. Your house and car and boat and bank account are wholly inconsequential in eternity. God doesn’t care what level of education you received, which office you inhabited, or whose hands you’ve shaken. You can’t name-drop your way into Heaven. The things that impress your neighbors have no effect on God. None. The only thing that matters, on earth and in eternity, is whether or not you believe.
So. Do you? Do you believe? Not in some lukewarm, passive way. Actively. Do you actively believe? The way Damaris believed. The way that calls you out from a group of unbelievers, mockers, and scorners and sets you apart as a believer. Do you know Jesus? Really know Him? Have you believed in Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins? Are you living in the power of His resurrection? Does anyone know you believe? Does everyone? When God judges the world, will your every action and inaction withstand His scrutiny and prove you believe in Him? Whether your name is up in lights or listed as honorable mention, are you focused solely on what really matters? Have you sacrificed the notoriety of earth for the celebrity of Heaven? Do you identify with Damaris as a believer? Does that one word define you? Upon close inspection of your innermost self, can you honestly say you believe? (Acts 4:12; 10:43; 16:31; Jeremiah 32:39; Psalm 119:6; Galatians 2:20; Romans 12:1-2; I John 2:15-17; 5:5; John 1:12-13; 3:16)