Most of us are like Tony Campolo. Some years ago when his children were in their preteen years, he took them with him on a speaking engagement. When they drove into the parking lot adjoining the auditorium where, in just a few minutes, Tony was to speak, there were only three cars parked there.

"Dad!" exclaimed his son Bart, who at that point of his life was somewhat impressed with Tony's role as a public speaker, "Nobody's come to hear you! And you're so famous!"

"Come on, Bart," responded his sister Lisa, who, Tony says, has always been the realist in the family, "if Dad is so famous, where are all the people?"

"Knock it off, Lisa," Bart answered back. "It's pretty tough being famous when nobody knows who you are."

That's where most of us are. "It's pretty tough being famous when nobody knows who you are." Jesus didn't promise that everybody would know our name. He just promised us glory. Evidently, what Jesus called glory was not what the world calls glory. And that's just as well.