No Ordinary People
(Reflections on C.S. Lewis’s “The Weight of Glory,” Psalm 8, Genesis 1:26–27, Ephesians 4:23–24, and 2 Corinthians 3:18)
C.S. Lewis wrote in his famous sermon The Weight of Glory:
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”
These words awaken us to a reality we too easily forget: every human being you will ever meet bears eternal significance. There are no small people, no disposable lives. Every person is made in the image of God—stamped with divine worth, destined either for glory or ruin.
Crowned with Glory and Honor
The Psalmist marvels at this in Psalm 8:
“What is man that You are mindful of him,
the son of man that You care for him?
You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.” - Psalm 8:4–5
Here, glory is not fame or applause but the weight of being known and valued by God. Humanity’s dignity is not earned by achievement but bestowed by creation. From the beginning, we were made in God’s image (Genesis 1:26–27), crowned with kavod—a Hebrew word that literally means weight, heaviness, or substance. To have glory, in the biblical sense, is to possess enduring significance—to matter eternally.
Sin has made us hollow where we were meant to be heavy with glory. The fall turned our solid gold into thin foil. Yet in Christ, the substance returns. Redemption is the recovery of kavod—the restoration of our true weight, our God-given significance.
Psalm 8 does something quietly subversive. In a world impressed by size, power, and influence, the psalmist lifts his eyes to the vastness of the heavens—and then turns his attention to frail, fleeting humanity. What is man, that You are mindful of him? And yet, astonishingly, God crowns human beings with glory and honor. The dominion God gives is not institutional dominance but entrusted dignity. Humanity is placed within creation as image-bearers, reflecting God’s wise and loving rule.
C.S. Lewis echoes the vision of this Psalm when he reminds us that “nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal.” They rise, they serve a season, and they pass away. But human beings are not so easily dismissed. “You have never talked to a mere mortal.” Institutions are temporary; people are eternal. Systems exist to serve image-bearers, not to define their worth.
Psalm 8 insists that our value does not come from usefulness, effectivness or success, but from being known and crowned by God Himself. Even when institutions fail us—or reduce us to numbers or roles—the glory God has placed on humanity remains. To be human is to carry a weight no organization can bestow and no empire can erase.
In Christ, God is not only affirming the dignity of His image in us—He is actively restoring it, renewing what sin has fractured and deepening the glory we were always meant to bear.
The Renewal of the Image
The apostle Paul describes this renewal in Ephesians 4:23–24:
“Be made new in the attitude of your minds; and put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.”
Through the Spirit, God is recreating us after His likeness. The Christian life is the slow, radiant work of reformation—the Spirit restoring in us the moral and spiritual weight of God’s image.
This is why Paul can say in 2 Corinthians 3:18:
“We all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory.”
The Greek word translated “glory” (doxa) also carries this sense of weightiness, splendor, and reality. To be glorified is to become more real—more substantial, more solid with the life of God Himself. Lewis draws on this biblical imagery when he speaks of “the weight of glory.” Heaven is not light and fleeting—it is heavy with holiness, dense with meaning. The closer we come to God, the more solid we become, and the more we find true significance and “weight” in life.
The Holy Weight of Our Neighbor
Lewis presses this truth outward: if this is true of us, it is also true of everyone around us. “Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.”
Every person you meet is an image-bearer in whom kavod yet flickers. Even in their brokenness, they carry the imprint of eternity. To treat someone lightly—to gossip, to dismiss, to scorn—is to deny the weight of glory that clings to their soul. But to love them is to honor the glory of God hidden within them.
When we begin to see others as Lewis describes—“immortal horrors or everlasting splendors”—we recognize that love is not sentimental; it is sacred. To love someone is to take their eternal destiny seriously. It is to carry, with reverent awe, the holy weight of another person’s soul.
Reflection
- What would change if I truly believed there are no ordinary people?
- Do I live as someone crowned with glory and honor, or have I forgotten my true weight in Christ?
- How is the Spirit restoring the solid reality of God’s image in me?
Prayer
O Lord, our Lord,
How majestic is Your name in all the earth.
You have crowned humanity with glory and honor,
but we have treated Your image lightly.
Forgive us for forgetting the weight of Your glory in ourselves and in others.
Renew our minds, restore our hearts,
and fill us with the substance of true righteousness and holiness.
Let Your Spirit make us solid with grace,
that we may recognize Your glorious image in our neighbor and may reflect Your eternal glory through our own lives in this broken world.
Amen.