He Humbles Me

(Luke 3:1-6)

It doesn’t matter which highway around San Diego you’re on – you don’t have to be on it very long before you see all the signs from your car. The heavy equipment that cuts and carves into the hillsides. The piles of dirt. The wooden stakes jutting out all over, polka dotting the area with ribbons of various color. The flattened future lots. What used to be a landscape of uneven rocky and rough terrain spilling down the hill or mountainside has become smooth and level. All of that earth is moved around, shifted, dug down, or piled up to make way for a future subdivision, apartment complex, or commercial development. 

Of course we know why this is all necessary. Building cannot take place on an uneven surface. A foundation poured on uneven earth will crack sooner than later, as will the walls and roof of any building erected on top of it. Parking lots and landscaping that aren’t graded to drain water properly will retain water and flood during the rainy season. Any building project requires no small amount of preliminary work before the finished product can even begin to take shape.

So it is with the building project that God is doing in each of us. As a child I had a hand-stitched picture of a curly red-head boy with his head down and a slingshot in his back pocket, implying he had just gotten in trouble with the slingshot. Accompanying the picture was the caption, “Please be patient – God isn’t finished with me yet.” How true that statement is, no matter where we are in life! This morning we will consider how God goes about with his ongoing building project in each of us, but before we do, we remember how important last Sunday’s message was to set the tone for our Humble Expectations series.

Last Sunday God’s Word reminded us that the only way hell-bound sinners and a holy God could be reconciled and brought into a right relationship was for Jesus to bring himself to us, to make himself less, to humble himself. And he did just that. That, of course, is the celebration we’re all eager to get to in three more weeks – God humbling himself to endure childbirth, a life that was the farthest thing from any semblance of a charmed life, ridicule and punishment for committing no crime whatsoever, and finally, a crucifixion reserved for convicted criminals. 

But there is more to the story. Though Jesus humbly endured all of that to make a relationship with rebellious mankind possible, sadly, not all of mankind will benefit from it. Why? There’s too much uneven rocky and rough terrain spilling out of our hearts and reflected in our lives. Unless all of that is moved around, shifted, dug down, or piled up to make way for the humble Savior, then he cannot reside in our hearts. So not only Jesus, but we, too, must be humbled. 

That was John’s mission. John was the earth-mover, the one called to do the heavy lifting and the scraping and the leveling among mankind to prepare the way for humble Jesus. You know the work John was called to do by another name: repentance. He came to call a rebellious world to repentance. One general way to consider what repentance means is to capture it with the picture of turning around. If you see a “Dead End” or a “Bridge Out Ahead” sign while driving, you’re wise enough to know to turn around and go the other direction. Repentance is seeing God’s law as a sign that indicates going our way instead of his is the wrong way. But we can break down repentance even further than that.

Repentance really starts with realizing and acknowledging that our hearts are defective. When you have something that’s defective, it won’t work properly. It isn’t a matter of double-checking the directions. No amount of trouble-shooting will matter if the object is defective. You don’t shake it around a bit or kick it or give it a good cleaning and hope it will work. It’s defective. It isn’t merely contributing to the problem – it is the problem. Sometimes, talk of repentance moves directly from this step right into the step of turning around. But there is a necessary transition that must happen between the first step of acknowledging our defective hearts and turning from our rebellion and sin. We could call that transition, contrition. 

What is contrition? Sorrow over sin. It is a different thing than merely acknowledging wrongdoing. For example, a criminal can acknowledge he did something without showing an ounce of remorse over it. But such cannot be the case for sinful mankind before a righteous God. Genuine repentance cannot bear genuine fruit without the soil of contrition. 

Let’s stay on this for a bit more. What does contrition look like? A few thoughtful questions might help you identify its presence or absence in your life. When it is discovered that you did something wrong, do you feel bad about what you did, or do you just feel bad about getting caught? When you apologize or ask for forgiveness, do you do so in a way that avoids accountability (e.g., “I’m sorry that you were offended/hurt by what I said.”) or do you own up to what you did wrong and take full responsibility (e.g. “I’m sorry that I ________ and that my words/actions hurt you.”)? 

Here’s another way to dig beneath the surface to try to discover genuine contrition; ask yourself if you even want to be more holy or if too long ago you comfortably embraced the fact that you’re not. If you’re willing to take a good hard look at your own heart, you may notice some areas where a progression in sin over time has resulted in contrition gradually eroding away. Here is what that progression looks like.

The first time the sin is committed there is guilt and remorse – we genuinely feel awful about it. That is contrition. Then, a few more times of the same sin and we become somewhat complacent. There is still a knowledge that we shouldn’t be doing it, but it definitely bothers us less than it did initially. Then, a few more times of the same sin and we become complicit. This is where we start to justify it in our own minds or even rationalize it as being normal and/or acceptable. Finally, after enough time in that stage, the last step can turn into openly welcoming and embracing the sin – we commend it. When this happens, a person typically drifts toward associating with other people who feel the same way, which results in reinforcing our thoughts on that sin. Not only has contrition completely faded in those cases, but the sin which once caused sorrow and guilt is now praised and celebrated. 

Paul actually spoke this very point of embracing sin in two places. In Romans 1:32, he wrote, “although they know God’s righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them.” In his letter to the Philippians, he observed of those opposing Christianity, “Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is set on earthly things” (3:19). It may go even further still to result in aggressive opposition to other Christians who continue to call out that same sin. Once that whole process has played out, it’s back to the beginning of the process of repentance all over again. But you better believe the work that John the Baptist calls us to do is FAR more difficult from that point on (cf. Hebrews 6:1-6).

But if instead, that first step of genuine contrition and the Holy Spirit continues to work in us a genuine loathing of sin and a desire to squash it in our lives, then here is where the turning around comes in. It’s what Luke described in our verses this morning. “Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him. Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill made low. The crooked roads shall become straight, the rough ways smooth” (Lk. 3:4c-5). It’s leveling my pride and seeing my sin for the damning spiritual roadblock that it is. It is refusing to insist that my crooked path is the better alternative to God’s way. It’s confessing that my default to blame others for the damage my sin has done is the real culprit cutting me off from God. We aren’t talking about filling a pothole here or sealing a crack there – we’re talking about a complete demolition and removal to clear all the sinful debris for God to carry out his building project on us.

Finally, there is the last crucial step of repentance, the absolutely most important one: looking to the One who humbled himself for my forgiveness and salvation. For even an unbeliever can merely acknowledge he did something wrong,  feel contrition over it, and strive to turn around on his own. But that is quite a different thing than the repentant believer who longs to turn away from sin and to the grace and forgiveness Jesus extends freely to him. Recall that Luke spelled out the purpose of John’s call to repentance in verse 3 – that John came “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” The goal is not to leave us wallowing in guilt and shame, but rather to see that humble Jesus came to lift up humble sinners out of the muck of guilt and shame and dress us with his perfection, his righteousness.

This is the final goal for us, for you. This is the final goal for all people, as John stated it: “And all people will see God’s salvation” (Lk. 3:6). So this call to repentance is absolutely essential, for without it, we are not able to see salvation because of the obstinate obstructions in our way that are sin. 

Think of a time you arrived late at the movie theater. After grabbing your popcorn, candy, and drink, you make your way into the dark theater. Once you find a spot, you then have to climb over any number of theatergoers to get to your spot. What is happening while this is going on? Not only are you missing out on the movie while trying to avoid spilling your drink on someone’s lap, but you are also keeping them from seeing the screen as you walk in front of them.

The goal of repentance is that everyone can see God’s salvation in Christ Jesus, and that not even our own sin would obstruct the view of others, or keep us from seeing our own need of salvation. Repentance clears the way for us to clearly see what God has done for us in Christ. Repentance clears the way for the star of Bethlehem to spotlight our salvation born on Christmas. Repentance clears us out of the way so that our own sin doesn’t cloud the view of others, and all people can see God’s salvation. Jesus humbled himself for us – may he also continue to humble us so that we can believe and appreciate it. 

“Habits of His Grace: Humility”

(Mark 11:1-10)

A mutual friend recently sent this message to my wife: “What I love about myself is I work hard to gain humility.” We realize the irony of a statement like this is quite humorous. It also shows why humility is such a challenge for us – we want to be recognized for it when/if we achieve it! To demonstrate that truth, how would you rate your development in this department over the past year or two? Would you give yourself a fairly decent rating on a scale of 1 to 10 for having gradually improved in being more humble? And here’s the meta question: if you would be inclined to give yourself a strong or even respectable score in growing in humility, wouldn’t that actually be an indicator that you haven’t grown? If you were truly humble, wouldn’t you consistently give yourself a very low score? And, to take it a step further, if you’re now saying to yourself, “yes, I do give myself a low score in the area of humility,” doesn’t that come from a place of wanting to be recognized or acknowledged for your humility, which is of course the exact opposite of humility?!? Ach! Our lack of humility is humiliating!

The reason behind this frustration has been quoted frequently by C.S. Lewis: “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.” The greatest concern that man has had ever since the Fall is self-preservation. Putting others first is not our default mode. Thinking of how we might serve others with all that we are and all that we have is not the first thought that fills our head when we wake up in the morning. We don’t think of how the day’s events affect others, but how they affect me. Humility isn’t natural; it is a habit of his grace. And Palm Sunday (Passion Sunday), the start of Holy Week (Passion Week), puts Jesus’ humility on display. 

The colt is a picture of humility. A donkey was not a picture of greatness or royalty, but a work animal, and nothing more. A horse, on the other hand, can be a fickle animal, prideful even. If it doesn’t want to be ridden, its rider won’t have an easy time mounting it. But a donkey puts up no fuss when being forced to labor or carry a burden. It humbly does what it is asked. Little girls don’t clamor for a donkey, but a horse. No one says they want to buy a farm and raise donkeys. We associate them not with greatness, but with humility. So how appropriate that a donkey would be the animal chosen to carry the humble Savior to Jerusalem, his final destination.

But perhaps you’ve found yourself wondering the same thing I wondered this recently: if this is an act of humility in the first place, then why is Jesus riding anything into Jerusalem? Why not quietly sneak in the back door, unnoticed? Why not just walk into Jerusalem without making a big scene? Why ride? Why all the fanfare? Is that really humility?

The colt and the praise-proclaiming parade of people have less to do with humility or some overt attempt on Jesus’ part to draw attention to himself, and much more to do with fulfilling Scripture. The Word of God said these things would happen, and so they had to happen that way. The prophet Zechariah prophesied that Jesus would enter into Jerusalem amidst rejoicing and on a donkey. “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (9:9)

Maybe it isn’t a surprise to see people shouting in the middle of a parade, but… why were the crowds present in the first place? They hadn’t received a text message that the Messiah was coming. There weren’t billboards announcing Jesus’ arrival. There were no television or radio ads publicizing the date and time of the Savior’s arrival, so from where did these crowds suddenly appear? God’s divine hand was clearly intervening to clarify the magnitude of this event. And they didn’t just shout any old thing, but very specific words that Mark recorded: “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” (11:9-10). Was it mere coincidence that the shouts of the people echoed Psalm 118? No – prophecy was being fulfilled. 

So no, these details don’t detract from Jesus’ humility so much as they draw attention to the fulfillment of Scripture. For that reason, Jesus’ humility is ironic and one-of-a-kind: his humility is by its uniqueness attractive. The one quality that goes against drawing attention to oneself is exactly the quality that makes Jesus so attractive. It wasn’t pride – to be known for the sake of being known, or to be famous for the sake of being famous – that compelled Jesus. Rather, his perfect humility set him apart. His humility is attractive because it’s unlike any other humility the world has ever seen.

There are two elements of Jesus’ humility that make it stand out (aside from the simple fact that his humility was perfect!). First of all, his humility is remarkable because of who he is. Don’t you love how Paul put it in Philippians? “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage” (2:6). Jesus, eternal Jesus, God-in-the-flesh Jesus, answers to no-one Jesus, did not use his divine nature to trample over every earthly authority – which was itself established by him in the first place! 

Aren’t those the examples of humility that stand out most to us? When we see the highly regarded and those to whom society looks up act in humility, it is more noticeable because of who they are. So when Jesus acts in humility, it stands out so much because of who he is.

The other element of his humility that makes it stand out? Who we are. We know who Jesus is, and that he would humble himself for anyone defies our understanding; that he would humble himself for the likes of us takes humility to a whole other level. Turn the table for a moment. For whom are you more likely to humble yourself – a king, a president, a brilliant professor, or… your garbage collector, the barista who messed up your order, or the less-than-helpful customer-service rep on the phone? It’s one thing to humble ourselves before those we look up to, but to humble ourselves before those we perceive to be beneath us? That’s not so easy. 

Jesus achieved both in his humility. His divine nature didn’t go to his head, so to speak, and he humbled himself for you. For you, who think too highly of yourself too often. For you, who think too little of Jesus too often. For you, who stumbles back into sin so effortlessly. For you, so disinterested in really putting any effort into your life of sanctification and these habits of his grace. He, who is everything, humbled himself and “made himself nothing” (as Paul put it in Philippians 2:7) for you, who are nothing apart from him.

The One who is everything made himself nothing so that you, who are nothing, might have everything. And because of what he humbly rode into Jerusalem to do, you do have everything. Do you understand that? His humility is the reason you have everything. Humility that will see him serve the least of his disciples on Maundy Thursday. Humility that will see him scorned and suffer on Good Friday of this week. Humility that will see him die and be damned by the Father. 

All so that you could not only avoid all of that, but also in its place receive everything. Your sins are forgiven. You have peace. You have no reason to fear death. You have the promise of never having to go without what is needed. What does the world offer that compares to the “everything” you have through your humble Savior? Nothing that lasts. Nothing that endures. Nothing that makes a real difference. Nothing but fickle, fleeting, empty promises that will never satisfy. Let go of your attachments to the nothing of this world in favor of the “everything” you have in Jesus.

And then take seriously Paul’s encouragement: “In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5). Be humble like Jesus. You already have everything. Treat others as better than you. Think of others before yourself. Serve others before you serve yourself. Let the person cut in front of you in line. Let the driver into your lane. Let her go first. Put yourself beneath everyone else and in your humility find genuine joy that comes from being able to because you already have everything through him who made himself nothing for you.

Calling All Pharisees!

Photo by rawpixel

There’s a pharisee in all of us.

If that shocks you, or if you think you are an exception to this statement, that could actually serve as an indicator that you may even be a bigger pharisee than you realize.  To clarify, I am not using that term the way you’ll come across it in the Bible, referring to the religious sect who opportunistically opposed Jesus and had an unhealthy infatuation with rule-keeping (though we can at times fall into that category, too!). When I say there’s a Pharisee in all of us, I refer to the root sense of the word, our inclination to separate ourselves from others.

Sometimes we physically do this by avoiding certain types of people, but most often it happens in our head. And here’s why it’s particularly tricky: we may not separate ourselves from others because we think we’re better than they are, but rather… because we think they’re not as good as we are. Sounds like the same thing, doesn’t it?

Essentially it is, but when we spin our perspective, it doesn’t feel so bad to us. See, if in my own mind I don’t make it about me and how highly I think of me, then it becomes that much easier to pinpoint the myriad flaws in others. That way, we’re not hypocrites. We’re not egotistical. We’re not prideful. And we genuinely become blind to our hypocrisy, egotism, and pride, simply because we’ve shifted the focus onto others. When it becomes about others not measuring up or not meeting a standard or not being good enough, I internally justify it because, after all, “I’m not saying I’m better than they are (but really, I am!), I’m just making the same outward observation anyone else could about their shortcoming(s) (which clearly aren’t shortcomings for me – otherwise I wouldn’t so readily notice them in others!).” 

Want to try something radical? Shift your perspective. Start with the assumption that others are better than you, and be intentional about looking for evidence in them that supports your assumption.

Finally, at the end of each day, be grateful for the One who truly was better than you, who through faith in him chooses to bless you with his own prideless perfection and wholehearted humility. 

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who… made himself nothing… humbled himself and became obedient to death–even death on a cross!”

Philippians 2:3, 6–8 (NIV)