REFLECTION:

A few weeks ago, I found myself genuinely amazed by something happening at our high school. One of our Math teachers gave a project where students had to create artwork using mathematical symbols and equations. In that one assignment, they were learning math, engaging creativity through art, and even touching something deeper—order, beauty, and meaning, which point us to God. As I walked by and saw the finished pieces, I was struck by how beautiful and thoughtful they were. But what really caught my attention was this: I found myself wanting to know—who made this? Which student or group of students created each piece? The artwork was impressive, but it naturally led me to think about the one behind it.

In today’s reading from Acts, we see something similar—but with a very different outcome. After Paul the Apostle heals a man who had been crippled from birth, the crowd is amazed. They witness something powerful, something beyond the ordinary. But instead of asking, “What is God doing here?” they jump to the conclusion that Paul and Barnabas themselves are gods. They begin to praise them, even preparing to offer sacrifice. And here is the critical moment: Paul and Barnabas refuse it. They tear their garments and cry out, “We are human beings just like you!” They refuse to let the attention remain on them, because they know that if the glory stays with them, people will miss God.

This is what we might call the temptation of glory. It is something subtle but very real in our own lives. How easy it is to accept credit for what we’ve done, to enjoy recognition, to let praise settle on us without redirecting it. Whether it is our talents, our work, or even the good we do for others, there is always that quiet temptation to make it about ourselves. But the witness of Paul and Barnabas reminds us that everything we have, everything we are able to do, ultimately comes from God. The Christian life is not about absorbing the glory—it is about redirecting it. It is about living in such a way that others, when they see something good in us, are led not to us, but through us, to God.

Paul then goes a step further. Speaking to people who do not know the Scriptures, he doesn’t begin with teachings they are unfamiliar with. Instead, he points to what they already experience: the rain from heaven, the changing seasons, the food that sustains them, the joy that fills their hearts. In other words, he points to creation itself and says, in essence, “All of this comes from the living God.” Even without knowing it, their lives are already surrounded by signs of God’s presence and goodness. But they had stopped at the gift. They saw the miracle, they experienced the blessing, but they misdirected their response.

And isn’t that something we do as well? We experience so many good things—a beautiful sunset, time with family, success in our work, moments of peace—and yet we can easily stop there. We admire the gift, but forget the Giver. We enjoy what is in front of us without letting it lead us deeper. What Paul invites us to rediscover is a way of seeing the world differently. Every good thing becomes a sign. Every blessing becomes a reminder. Every moment of joy becomes an invitation to say, “Lord, this is from you.”

And in a special way this week, as we celebrate Teacher Appreciation Week, we give thanks for our teachers. Like that Math teacher and so many others in our school, they do more than simply pass on knowledge—they help reveal something deeper. They form minds, shape hearts, and often without drawing attention to themselves, they point students toward truth, goodness, and beauty. In many ways, they live out what Paul and Barnabas show us today: they do good work, but the best teachers don’t seek the spotlight—they point beyond themselves. They help students not just see the lesson, but discover meaning, purpose, and ultimately, God at work in their lives.

The people in Lystra were not wrong to be amazed. They simply stopped in the wrong place. They stopped at Paul. They stopped at the miracle. And Paul’s response becomes a message for us today: don’t stop there. Don’t stop at your achievements, your blessings, or even the beauty of creation. Let those things lead you further. Let them draw your heart to God. Because in the end, everything good we experience in life is not meant to end with us—it is meant to lead us back to Him.