Don’t you love the irony of the cross? In its shadow, the somebodies of the world end up being fools, and the nobodies become wise. I have to believe Paul had his tongue in his cheek for just a moment—a little touch of apostolic humour—when he reminded his readers to remember who they were before Christ:

Remember, dear brothers and sisters, that few of you were wise in the world’s eyes or powerful or wealthy when God called you. Instead, God chose things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise. And he chose things that are powerless to shame those who are powerful. God chose things despised by the world, things counted as nothing at all, and used them to bring to nothing what the world considers important. As a result, no one can ever boast in the presence of God. (1 Corinthians 1:26–29 NLT)

Notice the text says, “few of you were wise…powerful…or wealthy.” Let’s put it this way: most of us are not the brightest and the best in the world’s eyes. We represent, in the world’s estimation, that which is foolish, weak, base, and despised.

In case you’ve been sitting around a room full of mirrors—in case, like Narcissus, you’ve been staring in the pool a little too long, focused on your image—look a little deeper. What you will see is not a lacy, slick little rainbow trout. What you will see is a wide-mouth, bottom-feeding catfish. If you don’t like that, well, that’s part of your problem, because you’ve forgotten your pit. You’ve forgotten your depravity.

All ground is level at the foot of the cross. There are no celebrities, royals, or VIPs in the family of God. All the ground at the foot of the cross is level.

I love the way Jim Elliot wrote it in his journal shortly before being martyred: We’re all “a bunch of nobodies trying to exalt Somebody."¹ If you start there, you’ll run in the right direction.

I come from the great metropolis of El Campo, Texas. Right down the road from Rosenberg, Bay City, Wharton. You go further south, Palacios—you could smell Palacios before you got there. Shrimp! That’s my background. I have nothing to offer on my own. Only the cross. I just have the Saviour. He does all these things “so that no one can ever boast in the presence of God.”

Whether it’s a child in Harlem, not knowing what tomorrow will bring, or a tycoon on Wall Street who suddenly loses everything—it doesn’t matter. The cross levels all of us. We all have the same desperate need for Christ. Not many cultured, not many mighty, powerful, prestigious, and impressive. Not many noble. When you’re running the wrong direction, you’re impressed with all the human stuff—the pedigree, the accent, the prestige. But when you’re impressed with the cross, you see everybody at the same level at the foot of that cross.

You run in the wrong direction when you boast. Instead of tooting your own horn, blow a trumpet for God. Get off your high horse. You’re just folks. You’re just a needy person clinging to the cross. And when you focus on that, it is remarkable how you will then see life as it really is. You’ll be so unimpressed, because you don’t hang around people to be impressed. You hang around others with the hope of communicating and living out the truth—and the truth sets us free from all that other pizzazz.

How does Paul conclude? By boasting in the only One we can boast in! 

God has united you with Christ Jesus. For our benefit God made him to be wisdom itself. Christ made us right with God; he made us pure and holy, and he freed us from sin. Therefore, as the Scriptures say, “If you want to boast, boast only about the Lord.” (1:30–31)

Excerpt taken from The Cross We Proclaim: Keeping Christ Central, Copyright 2026 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights are reserved worldwide. To purchase the full booklet, please visit our webstore: insightforliving.ca/store.

¹ Jim Elliot, as quoted by Ted W. Engstrom with Robert C. Larson, A Time for Commitment (Grand Rapids: Daybreak Books, Zondervan, 1987), 75.