His Humility, Our Hope

(Philippians 2:5-11)

Experience has probably taught you why it’s unwise to grocery shop while you’re hungry. Your stomach will steer your purchases and convince you to fill your grocery cart with unnecessary items that were not on your list. When that happens, you’re far more likely to end up busting the grocery budget! Not only that, but if you happen to be doing the shopping according to a list that your spouse put together, sometimes we end up neglecting to grab a number of items on the list! Being so focused on satisfying a grumbling stomach leads to forgetting to fully carry out what we set out to do in the first place: bring home all the grocery items on the list. Hunger compels the starving shopper to focus on satisfying self.

If only the desire to satisfy self was limited to the grocery store on occasion! But we know better. The whole world view of our culture is to look at everything through a selfish lens. We have sold ourselves on the lie that tolerating anything and permitting everything is the absolute most loving thing one can do for his fellow man. While we celebrate such “progress” on the surface, framed as genuine concern for the welfare of others, what really drives such thinking is complete and utter selfishness.

Letting anything and everything go for others is really all about me. If I refuse to judge or condemn something in someone else – no matter how absurd or outlandish it may be – then I have just paved the way for me to serve myself in any way imaginable, fully expecting that others won’t condemn me just as I have chosen not to condemn them. We all mind our own business, and we call it tolerance for the greater good when in reality it is merely permission for me to serve myself.

It might sound like I am just ragging on our culture. It might sound like one of those “the world is really awful, but we Christians are really good, so be careful out there good Christians” messages. But it isn’t. It isn’t because you know better. We aren’t so naive as to pretend we want nothing of that sort of world, but know that our sinful selfish nature delights in being a part of such a self-serving world! From that first self-serving bite of fruit in Eden, our self-serving nature has been at war with the saint inside each of us, and that self-serving nature has gotten sneakier and sneakier at slipping his own self-serving purposes in here and there! So the world is only the problem as much as I am a part of the world – ripe with the same self-seeking desires.

Paul addressed it in the verses just before the ones in our Philippians Reading this morning. He wrote, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others” (2:3-4).

Considering the number of letters Paul authored in the New Testament, it’s fascinating that we find these words in his letter to the Philippians, referred to as the letter of joy due to the significant references to joy or rejoicing throughout the letter. It turns our idea of joy on its head, as our warped minds tend to think that joy is tied to getting what we want. But if that’s the case, then why would Paul stress the importance of seeking the interests of others and not self? If joy is found in service to self, then in this letter more than any other, we’d expect Paul to be writing, “Do whatever makes you happy. Life is too short. Don’t worry about other people who drag down your dreams and desires. Look out for number one and ignore the haters.” But in this letter of joy, Paul encourages the exact opposite! Don’t serve yourself; serve others. Then you’ll find joy!

So what follows in the verses from Philippians is no shock at all, for it falls in line beautifully with what the writer to the Hebrews wrote about Jesus, who “for the joy set before him  [he] endured the cross” (12:2). Joy drove Jesus to die, but that joy did not stem from self-serving motives at all; rather, his joy was tied directly to serving the interests of others, and that path collided at the cross. So his joy didn’t come from somehow circumventing the cross in service to self, but in enduring the cross in the best interest of you and me and every last sinner.

That was the ultimate expression of humility, which is what Paul described so magnificently in the verses of our text this morning: “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God  something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:6-8).

What a breath of fresh air we see in Jesus! Paul encouraged us to do something radical, something that we’ve never seen nor been able to carry out when he wrote that we are to put the kibosh on selfish ambition and look to the interests of others. This is an entirely foreign concept to us, so we would have no idea what it looks like – were it not for Jesus Christ, who literally demonstrated humility perfectly for us!

That theme of humility was certainly evident from the Savior whose entire life and ministry were about serving other people. That humility was reflected in his humble entrance into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey to fulfill Scripture. That humility would be highlighted later that same week on the day we call Good Friday, when the very One who created life would sacrifice his own – for the interest of others. Never will we behold a greater example of humility, not only because Jesus was willing to sink to the lowest depths of death by crucifixion – the innocent dying a criminal’s death for a world of criminals who actually deserved it! But what makes his humility so exemplary was knowing the heights of heaven from which he came to stoop so low to such a death!

When we consider the words of Paul here in Philippians 2, 6-11, can you imagine how very real the temptation must have been for Jesus to flip these verses upside down? He surely could have exalted himself first as he entered Jerusalem. He could have demanded on Palm Sunday that every knee bow and every tongue confess him as Lord and Savior. He would have had every right to humble the crowds and exalt himself first and only after that die a death of humility. 

After all, that’s so often how our acts of humility are carried out, aren’t they? Sure, we’ll clean this or wash that, we’ll carry out this or that act of service, but not without making sure that at least someone else knows about it. How ironic is it that we want to be exalted even for our humility?!? Our pride demands that we are noticed, and it will grab hold of anything it can get its hands on to exalt self – even humility!

How often when we are engaged in conversation are we simply listening long enough to make sure the topic of conversation comes back to us and something we’ve done or someone we’ve known? And even on the other end of the spectrum, when we claim that we don’t want to be acknowledged, we make sure that others know that we don’t want to be acknowledged – so our pride is satisfied by knowing that others know we don’t want to be known! What great and amazing humility we have! Ah, quite the opposite: what damning pride lurks in each of us, which explains why humility and the interests of others are so unnatural for us!

So be comforted that the One individual who walked this planet and actually had every right to exalt himself chose to do exactly the opposite. His perfectly obedient humility could satisfy our Holy Father in a way that our pride-filled humility never could! Jesus both perfected humility for us and paid for our lack of it, for our sinful pride, for our propensity to care about ourselves far more than anyone else. It was as if Jesus not only perfectly obeyed the speed limit every time he drove, but he also paid for every one of our speeding tickets (and just to point out how natural our pride is, how many of you just filled up with pride inside because you’ve never gotten a speeding ticket?). 

So let me be clear. During Holy Week, on Palm Sunday, your Savior’s perfect humility attained for you before God what your pride never could. The price paid on the cross was the price paid for your pride. God doesn’t see us for what we are on our own, but rather through faith in Jesus he sees what his Son was for us. We are free. Pride has been forgiven. Humble obedience has been offered up and accepted by the Father through the Son. 

Now we are free to go back to Paul’s encouragement that preceded these powerful verses. We can revisit his encouragement and as forgiven saints, no longer condemned for pride, and strive to show it. We can find genuine joy in seeking to carry out what Paul calls us to: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others” (2:3-4). We can prick the balloon of pride as often as we need to and deflate ourselves, not hoping to earn something by it, but because we’ve already received everything through Jesus – forgiveness, salvation, eternal life, and freedom from bondage to our pride. 

And the more we empty ourselves of ourselves, the more room there is for Jesus to fill us up. And the more filled up with Jesus we are, the more natural it becomes to set aside selfish ambition. The more realistic it is to value others above ourselves. The easier it becomes to look to the interests of others. When we have deflated ourselves and come back down to earth, we see the cross from a different perspective – not a high altitude view looking down on it, but up close and personal, looking up to it, so that more of Jesus fills my frame of view and I see the cross as not just one event for a lot of people, but THE event necessary for me.

Notice how small something looks from an airplane. That’s how Jesus looks to us when pride is allowed to reside inside. But on the ground, things are much larger. As the pride is let out, we come back down to earth and see things differently. I can make out more clearly not just a Saviour, but my Savior. This shifts our view from “Yes, he’s the Savior of all, and me, too,” to “Yes, he’s my Savior first and foremost, but also the Savior for all.” 

This leads to evangelism so that we can address the foremost need others have. After all, the second half of these verses will be true – all will know who he is. Let us use this week, this time that we have on earth, to do all we can so that others confess him by faith rather than by force on the last day, when even unbelievers will experience the regret of knowing they rejected the Savior.

If you shop while you’re hungry, your stomach will steer your purchases and you might ignore the list. So eat first, so that your own self-interest doesn’t get in the way. When you are full, then you can focus on the list. When we are filled up with Jesus, then we can focus on the other stuff. Fill up with as much Jesus as you can during Holy Week and Easter season and always, and be ready to find the true joy that will follow.

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.