He Lifts Up the Humbled

(Luke 1:39-55)

How many gifts will it be this year? Do you have a record of how many gifts it’s been in the past? You know the ones I’m talking about – the ones we made a big deal about, the ones we convinced ourselves and others we really wanted – no, needed… only to see them end up unused, forgotten, or re-gifted to someone else. I would imagine you could spend some time over the holidays just looking back on everything in your home, your garage, and/or a storage unit if you have one, and so much of it would be a record of things that at one point were “must-haves.” Going through that process would probably serve to give us pause the next time we convince ourselves that we have to have something. We may not want it as badly as we think we do.

Couldn’t we say that about humility as well? We’ve reflected on humility for the past three Sundays, and honestly, isn’t humility a bit like that gift you think you want, but when it comes right down to it, isn’t as interesting as we thought? We even know that humility is one of those desirable qualities God wants us to have, so we should want it, but really we don’t. Because humility means giving up something I’m really good at: me. Humility means actually doing what Jesus called us to by denying self. Humility means going against my natural self-interest and doing what I’m best at by nature, making my life about me. So humility sounds virtuous and noble and it should be not only on our Christmas list, but an ongoing pursuit of ours, but… the reality is that we aren’t too willing to part with our pride. Like a child throwing a tantrum after being stripped of a toy for misbehaving, we naturally kick and scream against anything that threatens our pride. And humility does just that. 

That’s what makes it so difficult. “No pain, no gain” – it’s unlikely you’ll open up a Christmas card to find those words inside. I don’t recall the phrase being included in any Advent or Christmas hymns. Spend as much time perusing the aisles of Hobby Lobby for something to add to your collection of Christmas decor, but you won’t see the words, “no pain, no gain” painted across a piece of wood in some nostalgic font. The words would seem to be out of place for this time of year.

But maybe they’re more applicable than we might think. As we conclude our Humble Expectations series this morning and you reflect on the past three weeks, has the concept of humbling yourself or being humbled resonated with you as a pleasant experience? If so, forgive me for saying so, but I think you’re a little bit weird. Being humbled – more specifically, the repentance required for that to take place – is a tough pill to swallow. Who likes to be put in their place? Who enjoys having their faults found out and exposed? Who likes being at the dead end where no blame, no excuses, and no rationalizations allow us any outs, where there is nowhere to turn for escape? No one! Provoking our pride is a painful process!

But it’s a necessary one, and this morning we focus on why. Today we look at the end result of that process of humbling and being humbled; today we look at the gain that results from the pain. 

How refreshing it is this morning to see what humility looks like in not one, but two of the women, Elizabeth and Mary, who played important roles in the birth of our Savior. While what has come to be called The Song of Mary, or The Magnificat, is the focal point of these verses, don’t miss the humble greeting that Elizabeth expressed upon Mary’s arrival. “When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (v.41-43). Remember that Elizabeth was the once-barren, but now-expecting mother herself, and she could have very understandably been bitter toward Mary for arriving and stealing her thunder, or for rubbing it in that she was the one chosen to be the mother of the Savior. But we don’t see that from Elizabeth at all. Moreover, Elizabeth not only acknowledged Mary’s blessed privilege of being the mother of the Savior, but counted herself unworthy of a personal visit from her. This was not false humility. This was not Elizabeth trying to butter up Mary or get on her good side. This is what genuine humility looks like. And Mary takes a page out of the same book of humility.

Mary didn’t spring into a self-centered song spelling out all of the understandable reasons why she was in fact such a good candidate to be the mother of the Savior. Instead, notice who is at the center of her song: the Lord. Her song is not filled with “me’s,” but “He’s.” 

That’s an important element of humility. Humility doesn’t toot its own horn. Humility doesn’t call attention to itself. Humility doesn’t announce its presence in the room. Instead, humility is made known only when all attention is directed elsewhere. Mary does just that, highlighting God’s glorious resumé of rescuing his people throughout history. And how might we describe that resumé? She points out that God has a track record of doing two things: 1) humbling the haughty who think they can stand against him, and 2) lifting up the lowly, those who in genuine humility know and believe that they have zero business seeking an audience with a holy God. 

Mary described the various ways the Lord has for humbling the haughty. “He has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts… has brought down rulers from their thrones… has sent the rich away empty” (v.51-53). To those thinking they can hide their pride by keeping it limited to their thoughts – he shoos them out of his presence. To those in positions of power or authority who pat themselves on the back as if achieved by their own doing – he topples them from their lofty place. To those relying on riches or truly believing there is such a thing as a “self-made man,” he sends them away empty-handed. 

Here’s the problem with pride: we think our pride is justified. We think we actually have some good reasons not to be humble, that being humble is actually beneath us. Actually, we don’t even see it as pride. We wouldn’t call it that at all. It’s rather just who we are. We know that no sinful pride is justified, so what we feel, what we think about ourselves must not be pride, because we know that’s not acceptable for God’s people… so we don’t identify it as such. Nevertheless, we still struggle with humility, because we think too highly of ourselves to think humility should apply to us. Mary’s song glorifies God for humbling the haughty, for not allowing others to pridefully rob him of his glory.

Mary’s song also glorifies God for lifting up the lowly. “He has… lifted up the humble… has filled the hungry with good things” (v.52-53). The good news for those who know they have no business in God’s presence is that he will in fact lift them up in his presence! Those who know how spiritually starving they are on their own will be permitted to taste and see how good the Lord truly is! God has no time for the proud because his schedule is booked with raising up the repentant to the joyful heights of forgiveness and salvation! He is far too busy filling up the empty-hearted with grace and all of his richest gifts!  

So as we wrap up this series, into which of these categories do you wish to find yourself? The haughty will be humbled while the lowly will be lifted up. I think we all know what the answer should be, but will our attitude and actions reflect that, or will everything stay the same? Will we continue thinking of humility as a virtue, a noble thing to pursue, but defiantly refusing to trade in our pride for humility? Or, can we see the bigger picture and in humility make our lives less about us, confident that in due time, Jesus will lift us up to himself and exalt us in a way the world never can? Knowing that it isn’t natural to us to desire humility, consider bringing that desire before the Lord. Ask him to help us imitate the humble spirit demonstrated by Elizabeth and Mary, who found genuine joy, not based on all the pregnancy preparations they had to do, but on what God had done. Let your joy this Christmas be based not on your planning and preparations, but in humble gratitude for what God has done.

And ask him to wrap you in his humility. Ask him to help us see that apart from him we are nothing so that we truly embrace that in him, we have everything. Bow low then, as you prepare to gaze again at the manger and see with eyes of faith the one born into humility, that he might raise you up and fill you with good things for now, for Christmas, and for eternity. 

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