Mere Humility
For the Christian, humility is a necessity, not an option.
It has become normative for our lives to be magnified and for God to be diminished. “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). Magnifying Christ comes at the sacrifice of our own self-glorification. Our lives must look lesser compared to how we would desire them to. We want our achievements, and virtues, and academic prowess, and even our complaints to seem big. We long to be recognized and to feel important. Fortunately, Jesus turns all of that on its head.
He begins his Sermon on the Mount with three statements that hinge on humility not as an occasional expression, but as a lifestyle.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” — Matthew 5:3
That is where Jesus begins: our need. We are a people that need, desperately. His bluntness is so admirable. No grand statements, beautiful prose, or theological mystery. Instead He spoke simply, giving care to direct the focus to our hearts. We’re not spiritually rich, we’re spiritually bankrupt. Certainly not the world’s sexiest introduction. Literally, happy are those who are poor in spirit. Given the statement, we should all strive to see ourselves as spiritual paupers before God. The mirage of having a rich, prosperous soul apart from Christ will only manifest itself as the illusion it was to begin with.
Isaiah 66:1–2 says, “Thus says the Lord: Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool; what is the house that you would build for me, and what is the place of my rest? All these things my hand has made, and so all these things came to be, declares the Lord. But this is the one to whom I will look: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word” (emphasis added).
We have absolutely nothing to offer God spiritually, so why pretend?
Our natural state is separation from Him. There is a vast chasm between us. Instead of recognizing our need, we want to build earthly kingdoms that overlook the gaping hole on our doorstep. Perhaps worse, we think that throwing earthly treasures or accomplishments into our spiritual abyss will begin to fill it up, that God will one day see us fit to enter the kingdom of heaven or receive salvation for that matter.
Those who inherit the eternal kingdom are those who are willing to give up their own.
We have no true crown or kingdom in this life. They are only sentiments made of sand that will blow away and disintegrate with time, facades of the true crown of glory and honor that belongs to Christ (Heb. 2:9). How truly blessed the poor in spirit are, avoiding the false inheritance of this life.
He goes on:
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” — Matthew 5:4
Jesus leaves no room for pride or self-righteousness here. An unrepentant Christian life isn’t a Christian life. The sin that once brought us hollow satisfaction should now cause unrest in our hearts. James 4:9–10 puts it vividly: “Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.”
Humility and repentance are inseparable. A spirit of pride will never produce fertile grounds for repentance, it will only produce a continual affirmation of our sin. God will never lift up those who exalt themselves. As Christians, we will never be above sinning, so it’s useless to pretend.
Jesus rebuked the Pharisees for this in Matthew 23:27–28, saying, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanliness. So you also outwardly appear righteous to others, but within you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.”
We fall short of God’s glory every day without fail. Refusing to acknowledge our sin before Him will only lead to a self-righteous pride that numbs our ability to mourn over sin. Our hearts will no longer appear tainted with sin’s residue, but simply pure with no need for alarm. We’ll begin to ignore blatant shortcomings in our words, our character, and our thoughts. Once any sin becomes small, it is then our most wicked danger. Someday, it may even be our most trusted companion.
As a friend of mine once said: It’s always better to know you’re at the bottom than to think you’re on top.
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” — Matthew 5:5
I love the irony here. Those who know they don’t deserve the inheritance will be the ones to receive it. Rather than standing with an outstretched hand to God, they will receive it with a knee bowed. They are, and will be, co-heirs with Christ (Rom. 8:17).
Charles Spurgeon stated in his commentary on Matthew, “They are lowly-minded, and are ready to give up their portion in the earth; therefore it shall come back to them. They neither boast, nor contend, nor exult over others, yet are they heirs of all the good which God has created on the face of the earth. In their meekness they are like their King, and they shall reign with him.”
Some may object, “Who are the meek but the pushovers of society? Why are they deserving of anything?”
I think that’s part of Jesus’ point. He doesn’t want us to wield a conquering spirit on this side of eternity. Jesus didn’t come with an army of angels behind him. He didn’t come to trample Rome under his feet and establish an Earthly kingdom for Himself. He came as a baby, and willingly died at the hands of His own creation without one vengeful word or action. Jesus upholds the universe with the word of His power, but was willing to die the lowliest of deaths so that we may be brought to God (Heb. 1:3, 1 Pet. 3:18).
I long for self-sufficiency. I want to be my own source of strength, of comfort, of resolve, and of wisdom. But I know that this pride will only lead to a joyless faith in Christ. Jesus became lowly so we would follow His example of humble reliance on the Father (John 5:19). Assuming a lowly position before God isn’t for our shame, but for our exultation (James 4:10).
