Is Your Social Media Life Hiding a Secret? Discover How One Man Changed History for Millennia!

Do you want to be influential? If so, you’re not alone. A recent survey found that 57% of Generation Z in the United States aspires to become influencers, drawn by the promise of money and fame. But what if you also want to make a positive impact on the world? The enduring wisdom of George Eliot in her 1871 novel Middlemarch offers a thought-provoking perspective: “...the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”

Eliot's words serve as a reality check. In an era dominated by social media, where every moment begs to be shared, it’s easy to equate influence with visibility. However, a life lived without the spotlight can still be deeply impactful. You may not leave an overt mark on history, but through small, meaningful actions, you can contribute to the broader fabric of society.

This perspective resonates particularly during the Christmas season, a time when we reflect on the story of Jesus’ birth—a narrative that embodies the essence of being “unhistoric.” Born in obscurity at the periphery of the Roman Empire, Jesus’ arrival was marked by humble circumstances: angels announcing his birth to a group of unnoticed shepherds and wise men presenting gifts at a rather subdued gathering. Yet, from this seemingly insignificant beginning, profound transformations emerged.

Early Christians interpreted the significance of Jesus’ birth as a declaration that God shows up in every vulnerable life, especially those experiencing hardship. This notion was poignantly captured by author Christos Tsiolkas while discussing his 2019 novel, Damascus: “God is not in the noble Olympian heights. God is not in the palaces. God is actually the man or the woman you step over. That is still revolutionary. That is still hopeful [today].”

The implications of this idea are staggering. Jesus' incarnation allowed people to recognize the divine in the least among us, fundamentally altering the understanding of human value. This radical claim—that everyone possesses inherent dignity—has become a cornerstone of modern moral philosophy. Ironically, what now seems ordinary—a belief in universal human rights—can be traced back to the transformative influence of Christianity, despite the secular mainstream often shying away from acknowledging this connection.

Historian Tom Holland articulated this nuanced relationship in his 2019 book, Dominion: The Making of the Western Mind. He suggested that our contemporary belief in the moral equality of all individuals is rooted in the Christian tradition, a thesis that may seem controversial yet is worth considering. Our understanding of human value, often taken for granted today, is deeply entwined with the “unhistoric” acts and teachings that emerged from the life of Jesus.

As Eliot suggested, recognizing that “the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts” can provide a new lens through which to view our roles in society. This perspective calls us to contribute positively to the world, even when our actions may not garner public acclaim. The irony that Eliot, despite having distanced herself from her Christian roots, retained its ethical teachings underscores the lasting impact of these values.

In contemplating the lessons of Christmas, I find an invitation to perceive the world differently. The essence of the season encourages us to seek out God—not in the grandiose or overtly public figures, but in the quiet, often overlooked corners of our community. It challenges us to see life on the margins as central to our moral compass.

Ultimately, this mindset is the true Christmas gift—a call to celebrate the “hidden” lives that contribute to the common good. By embracing the idea that even the smallest acts can generate ripples of change, we can find purpose and influence in our everyday actions, shaping the world in ways that resonate long after we are gone.