Joel 2:23-32
Psalm 65
2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18
Luke 18:9-14
Homily by Fr R Christopher Heying
Two men went to the
temple to pray. One was proud and
justified, or righteous, in himself, the other humble and justified by God.
I am sure that I have already mentioned to at least some of you one of my favorite preaching jokes:
Did you hear about the clergyman who said he had prepared an incisive sermon on humility . . . but was waiting for a large crowd before preaching it?
Thankfully you have in me a much more humble servant of God to preach on humility. J
In all seriousness, though, it would seem that “humility” may be one of the least understood words in the Christian dictionary. That may be because our common usage has little to do with the Christian virtue of humility.
If we say that someone is “from a humble birth,” we mean that she comes from little or no money or a family of no prestige. When we think of humility we often conflate it with low self-esteem or self-worth, maybe even a devaluing of one’s own gifts and abilities.
Worse, we may think that for ourselves to be humble we need to become much like a doormat, never protesting against things, which in reality are abusive.
And yet it may be even worse when we turn “humble” into a verb and “humble” or humiliate someone, so that we ourselves are not treating others, even others who have done bad things, with the dignity and respect that befits one who is, as all people are, born “in the image of God.”
While it is true that through sin, that of our forbearers and our own, we have sullied and distorted that image of God, none has forfeited that divine image altogether. In Jesus Christ, as we are told in Colossians, we have the “perfect image of the Father.”
So when by the Spirit of God we die and rise with him so we can live and move and have our being in him, that image—once disfigured by sin—is restored, for if anyone is in Christ there is a new creation.
And we don’t do that “new creation” justice by undervaluing, disregarding, or debasing it through what may be a false humility, some shadowy and dark.
Perhaps I told some of you about my experience working for a quadriplegic history professor while I was in college. My senior year, having been accused of arrogance (unjustly of course!) I asked Dr. Huddleston: “You don’t think that, do you?”
He said, “Well, Chris, I did notice something to that effect when you were a freshman in my World Civ class, but now that you are a senior, well, it’s just more pronounced.”
By that story you will understand that I have not always been the shining example of humility I am today. Of course, in reality I have not mastered the definition, let alone the virtue, and if I had, I am too humble to admit it to you.
Humilis is Latin for low, lowly, slight, small. Humus [you mus], h-u-m-u-s denotes the earth or ground. It then comes as no surprise that digging, planting, weeding in the garden can be humble and (with its very connection to the ground) gratifying work.
Humility is a basic, foundational, virtue that has nothing to do with underestimating who we are and something to do with an honest assessment of ourselves as we see ourselves in the light of God and God’s absolute holiness. And as we grow in humility the focus turns away from ourselves to God and to others.
For when we are focused on God and our minds set upon going out to do the work God gives us to do. . . When we love God and love others, we let go of the self-centeredness, the self-absorption that grabs and holds us in the trap of our self-sufficiency and self-righteousness. When our vision is cast toward God and others, we find our life hid in Christ, grounded (humus) not in ourselves but God.
The early twentieth-century Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple said that “Humility does not mean thinking less of yourself than of other people, nor does it mean having a low opinion of your gifts. It means freedom from thinking about yourself one way or the other at all” (in Christ in His Church).
What if it is not really all about us, after all? What if it (whatever “it” may be) does not depend so much on how smart or obtuse, how strong or weak, how big or small, how old or young we are but is more about letting go of any hindrance that keeps us from
(1) the worship of God (knowing that we are not self-made men and women but that our blessings and our very life come from God who loves us and gives us good gifts) and
(2) the service of others (knowing that God called us and commissioned us and even now equips us to go forth in to the world to do the work God gives us to do.
As we “lose” ourselves in the worship of God and the service of others, we may find ourselves again, perhaps more humble but definitely more “real.”
In pride, the Pharisee comes in with eyes fixed on himself, pleased with how right and righteous he was in comparison to others.
In humility, the sinner comes in with the eyes of his heart focused on God, the one possibility he has left, the ultimate source of forgiveness, grace, and mercy as wide as the sea.
The Pharisee came in righteous, justified, but the sinner goes home justified, righteous.
As we struggle with this hard-to-define virtue, this grace of humility, as we seek to fix our own eyes in the right place, let us consider not so much how we ourselves came in but how we will leave and go home.
God, I thank you that I am not like that clown.
God, be merciful to me, a sinner.