Lord it's hard to be humble

Recently, it was my birthday, and for my birthday, my wife took me to the Weird Al concert.  Yes, he was in town, and yes he was fantastic.  of all the modern artists, Weird Al is probably the hardest working one.  There were about seventeen costume changes, the older songs were reworked to continue to be good, the whole thing was super duper fun, and we all enjoyed it.



And one of his 'older' songs is Amish Paradise, which is, as usual, a great song, which skewers things, as Weird Al tends to do.  The verse that sticks in my head from this song is as follows:

Think you're really righteous? Think you're pure in heart?
Well, I know I'm a million times as humble as thou art.

Ha!  What a great bit!  It's a great bit, because trying to out-humble someone is impossible, and ridiculous to contemplate.  You can't be humble to be seen as being humble, that's nonsense!  Or is it?

You'd be surprised at how many people think that they can fake humility.  Spoiler alert, it's a lot.  Lots of folks assume that they can fake humility, that you can get away with pretending to be humble, and pretending to be meek and nice.  

But attempting this is trying to square the circle, it's going through the impossible.  You're trying to put two mutually exclusive things together, pride and humility, and whichever one is really there will bubble to the surface remarkably quickly.  And here's the issue, we have all run into people who are faking humility.  People who try to make it appear that they are humble, that they are self-effacing, but are actually looking for near constant approval.  This is a real thing that happens, and it's one of the more unpleasant things to witness.

  

 Now, why is this?  Well, it's not too hard to figure out. You know that we all love people who are humble, who are good, who work hard and who are genuinely interested in what we have to say.  And when we see the admiration that these people get, often we want a little bit of that ourselves.  But here's the problem, which is that if we want the attention, then it takes all the humility away from us, and turns it into pride.  And the pride never works out. 

So how do the genuinely humble people of the world manage it?  How do they get away with being humble and self-effacing?  How do they manage to be nice, to be kind, to think of others before themselves?  Because they're not thinking about themselves.

This whole attitude links in with Matthew Chapter 25, where the sheep on the right hand of Jesus Christ hear from him that when he was hungry or thirsty or in jail or sick that they took care of him, and the sheep had no memory of this.  When did we do this, they say.  And the answer is that whatsoever we do for the least of these, we do for Jesus. 

This isn't a throwaway, nor is it a minor detail.  It's actually quite central to understanding good works, charity, humility and all that stuff from a Christian perspective.  For in the Christian faith, you don't get to heaven by good works, by doing good things, by being a good person, that's not how it works.  Faith in Christ and his atoning grace is the ticket, not works, lest any man should boast.  And if that is the case, then why would any good works in the Christian faith exist (and goodness, some might argue that they don't)?  We in the Christian faith would say that the good works that we do, the charity that we offer, the humility that we have, is in response to the work that Christ has done.  The sheep on the right hand of our Lord said as much, when they vocalized that they had no idea that they were doing things that would factor in on judgment day, they were just doing things in response to the work of Christ on their behalf. 

And that's how Christian humility works.  You can't concentrate on being more humble, because that'll just draw more attention to yourself so that you can be seen before men, sounding a trumpet before your charity.  The only real way forward, honestly, is to not think about yourself at all.  CS Lewis talks about it like falling asleep, in that if you're concentrating on falling asleep, you're going to stay awake.  You can only really fall asleep if you're concentrating not on falling asleep, but probably on nothing at all.  Just drifting off into sleep and contentment. 

"About sleep: do you find that the great secret (if one can do it) is not to care whether you sleep? Sleep is a jade who scorns her suitors but woos her scorners." ~ C.S. Lewis

If you're focusing on how humble you are, then you're always going to be thinking about yourself, and the humility will be gone, at best you'll have a simulation of humility. At best.  But if you are thinking of Christ, of his majesty and glory, of his kingdom and his righteousness, then humility will be a natural side effect of that.

As the scriptures say, seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all the rest will be added unto you.  All the legitimate humble Christians that I have ever met have been like this, you know, and no, I don't count myself in this number.  There are legitimate humble Christians, Christians who are empty of their own opinions and dedicated to service.  People who don't think about themselves and how they look, but who instead would wash feet, feed thousands, and never let on that they were doing any of it.  Which is the point.  How do they manage it?  Because they aren't thinking about themselves.  They're thinking about Christ, and responding to his grace.  That's all.

It's so simple, really, but incredibly profound.  And as usual, you can't fake it.  There are no oven settings for this, no Shariah finance to help you shortcut around it.  None of it can be put on, and you've probably seen enough people try to fake it to know when they're doing it.  You can't sit at the worst place with the expectation that you're going to be moved up higher.  That's not how it works, it's more false humility, and it never works out. You have to sit at that low place because that's where you feel you ought to sit.   You've looked at yourself, you've mused on the concept of God and his majesty, you know how great he is and how small you are, and so you sit at the lowest place because that's where you feel you should be.  And it is there that Christ whispers those comforting words to you 'Friend, move up higher.'

If you've placed yourself at the best possible place you can, then there is nowhere to go but down.  If you are at the highest high, if you've placed yourself in the prime place, higher than anyone else, if you are up there, then there is nowhere else for you to go but down, to be moved down in the esteem of others, to be placed in a lower spot.  If you're in the lowest spot, then there's only one direction to be moved, which is up.  I know, it seems so simple when explained like that, but that's how simple it is.  Most of the time, we end up making things more complicated than they have to be or need to be.  When humility comes up, don't think about how humble you are, don't think about how humble you can be, don't think about how great it would be to be seen being humble, none of that.  Just think on Christ.  Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness.  The rest will follow. 

To close, it all reminds me of a book by Terry Jones called 'Fairy Tales,' which was a book of fairy tales written by Terry Jones. I know, what a synopsis.  One of those fairy tales had to do with a castle
a long way away, that a man was trying to get to.  He spent a long time trying to get there, but never ended up getting any closer, always retreading over the same ground, and never making any progress.  Eventually, he gave up, and found that when he gave up, he had arrived at the castle.  He was there.  THe moral was that sometimes giving up is the best way of getting to where you want to be.  I know that seems strange, like it's the exact opposite message from what we are usually given, but that's what was so special about it - it's true.  Never quitting is a silly way to try to run things.  So too, the only way to be humble is to not think about being humble.  The only way to be humble is to think of others, think of Christ.  Thinking of yourself and how humble you are will lead to self-reflection and self promotion, and being moved down from the place of honor.  Thinking on Christ will lead to grace, humility and charity.

As numerous as the stars in the sky.

There's a great line from the Old Testament reading from last Sunday, where God says to Abraham 'Look toward heaven and number the stars, if you are able to number them.'  To Abraham, that would have seemed like an insurmountable task - to number all the stars, to count all the stars in the sky.  Surely not!  The milky way sort of goes on forever, and you can see the stars twinkling far away into the night sky.  It's a beautiful and humbling thing to see.

When you can see it.

Most of us can't.  Most of us can't and don't see it all that often.  We fall prey to something called light pollution, and no, that doesn't mean pollution that isn't too heavy.  That means that we have put so much light up from our cities that we can't see the stars anymore. They get crowded out.  It's the same principle that governs why you can't see a flashlight in the middle of the day, that sort of thing.  And when we look up in our cities now, we can see, what, twelve stars, total?  Look up and count the stars, if you can number them.  Sure, no problem.  I only just barely need to use both hands.

Now, we have set up a great many lights up in our earthly dwellings these days, you know.  We have set up a great many lights, a great many things that threaten to cloud out the promises of God to the point that we can't see them anymore.  God has told us a great many things through his word, he has informed us of his care for us, how much attention he has for us, what he seeks to bring to us, what he wants to give to us.  The reading from the Holy Gospel from Sunday discusses that at great length, with the account, the words of Christ about how we ought not be anxious.  We ought not be anxious about what we should wear, not about what we should eat, nor about what we ought drink.

You know, all those things that occupy almost all our thoughts.

All the ads that we see are concerned with those sorts of things, the base things of this world that occupy almost every single surface that we look at.  Surfaces are covered with advertisements, smeared with messages designed to pique your interest, to get you to consider how bad your life is right now, and how much better it would be with a big mac, or a coke zero, or a new blouse, or a new car, or whatever else they're hawking to jam into your heart and rend it asunder with want.  This is what occupies essentially all our thoughts, all our motivations, is all this stuff, and each thing that diverts us, that occupies us, that draws our attention is one more lightbulb that we light up that drowns out the stars of the promises of God.

Now, if you've ever gone camping, or have gone outside the city at night, maybe out to grasslands national park or whatever, then you will see the stars.  And when you get back into the city, you'll notice that the stars are all gone.  But they haven't gone anywhere.  You just can't see them anymore.  Now, this is the issue that we have with the promises of God.  God has made a lot of promises to us, promises of daily bread, which promises to give us house and home, wife and family, clothing and shoes, and all the things of this world that give us the life that we have enjoyed.  And what we see happening on a regular basis is that we have clouded things over so heavily with our own pollution that we absolutely cannot see the promises that have always been there, and which are not going away.  Jesus tells us clearly in his word that heaven and earth will pass away, but his words will never pass away.  And we have to believe him.

Now, ignoring the promises of God doesn't mean that they go anywhere, they're still there, and still as effective as they ever were, just that we can't see them.  And every once in a while, it's incumbent on us to listen to the words spoken to Abraham in the Old Testament, and to hear the direction that God gave him, which was to trust in Him, to believe him, to go to a destination that he could not see, to take steps away from what was comfortable, and to live and reside in the promise of God almighty himself.  And he took those steps.  He believed in what God was saying to him, and that is what sets Abraham apart from everyone else.  He wasn't better or stronger or holier than everyone else, but he did believe in what God said.  And God credited it to him as righteousness.

Us now?  We have a hard time believing God on anything at all.  He tells us in a most straightforward way what he has promised to do for us, how much he cares for us, and he follows that up by giving us this encouragement:  'Sell your possessions, and give to the needy.'  Wow.  That's in straight up black and white, with not a whole lot of room for wiggling out of it.  Sell your possessions and give to the needy, and most of us just really don't want to do it.  Most of us don't really feel like going through with that kind of initiative.  We would rather hang onto our bucks, and not get too deep into giving what we have to someone else.  We can talk in glowing terms about love and trust for God, about what Noah and Abraham and the rest of the Biblical heroes were able to accomplish thanks to their faith in God, and yet, and yet, our trust for God gets hung up on relatively simple things, like not really trusting that he will take care of us.

So what's to be done?  Back to the stars, at night, all our lights and smog and clouds have a way of obscuring those stars so we can't see any of them.  Sure, we know they're there, but we honestly don't see them too readily.  Everything we have made and built blocks them out, and they're hidden from our eyes based on what we've done.  And living in cities means that we are in a situation where we never really see that rich tapestry spread out before our eyes.  Oh sure, we could pull an Abraham, and go far outside the cities and towns, head into dark sky preserves where the stars can finally be seen, but very few of us are going to do that.  And knowing that, God decided to do something entirely different.  He decided to break right the way through the issue of our concealed hidden stars, and get us to the point where we would finally see the stars again.

You know, it blew my mind when someone finally explained to me that the sun, our sun, is a star.  That's what stars look like when they're up close.  That's what a star looks like, and it's massive, and all the planets in the solar system orbit it. And it doubly blew my mind to hear that our solar system only has one star in it, namely the sun.  It seems strange that at night, you can stars from way far away all the time, but during the day, you can't see any star except one.  And that one star, not only can you see it, but thanks to it, you can see everything else.  At night, you can go way out to a dark sky preserve, you can go far from the works and worlds of man to go and find the stars lighting up the sky, or you can wait for the morning, and see the one star that illuminates everything.

Abraham was asked by God to look up in the sky, and to try to count and number the stars, numbering and counting all the promises of God.  He couldn't count that high.  Today, we have blocked out not just the real stars, but the promises of God get crowded out by the various things we say and do.  We have blocked out the stars in the sky and thanks to what we built, the blessings of God seemed very small.  So God sent his son, Jesus, to break through all the things we have brought and built, to show us the promises of God large as life, that illumine, warm, comfort and light the way.  Think about those times where you have noticed that street lights are still one during the day, and you can't see the light coming from them almost at all.  Or when traffic lights lose their little hoods during the day, you can't see the light, not because it's not there, but because the light from the one star you can see is so bright. You see, you can either cloud out all the promises of God with what you're worried about, what you're concerned about, or you can look to Christ, to the son, and let him crowd out all your worries, all your cares and concerns, and let you see exactly how small your concerns really are.  All your anxiety, all those tiny lights that you light up, they are small and worthless next to the massive presence of that great promise, which lights up and overshadows all the issues and concerns, all the lights you've lit up for yourself, it blocks that out.

The reading that comes up for this is the one that comes up for Christmas, talking about Jesus Christ as the light of the world, the light that shines in the darkness, the light that illumines everything, that casts light and in whom there is no shadow.  What God asks, that we put all of our worries behind us, that we focus on him, that we look to the stars and number our blessings with them was proving to be impossible to this and all other weak and faithless generations, and so God sent his son, blessing us and cutting through all our worries and cares, and pointing us to the one who holds the future, and who prepares a place for us, an eternal place, where all the lights we have lit for ourselves can be seen for what they are: not enough to block out the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Cheeseburger and paradise

Vanity of vanity.  All is vanity.

Boy, that is NOT how you want a book of the Bible to start. You want it to start with some sort of actualized message about how great everything is, about how you're a treat, and how you're doing a good job so don't worry about it. And yet, the story of the book of Ecclesiastes tells you that all is vanity.  Everything is vanity, it's all chasing after the wind.

Now, that sounds glum, but give it a second, because you may well realize that this is one of the more self-evident truths about the scriptures.  How many times have you found yourself running from pillar to post, chasing hither and thon, trying to make sure that you have everything figured out, and
making sure that everything is exactly where you want it to be, when all of a sudden, you find yourself at the end of the day, the lights have gone out, it's dark outside, you have been chasing about all day, you're thoroughly exhausted, and you have nothing to show for it.  Nothing at all.  It shouldn't be that way, of course.  It shouldnt' be that way where you are exhausted, burned out, and you don't feel like you've accomplished anything, but there you frequently are.  You get to the end of the day, every day, feeling like you're totally run down, the house is still a mess, the kids are still cranky, and you only just barely managed to get by.

You know, the Good News Bible, though not the favorite of everyone, still has the best illustrations of a Biblical topic.  That is, we see in those illustrations the simplicity of a concept.  And one of the
ones I still remember is of a man chasing after the wind from Ecclesiastes.  In simple line drawings, it shows the total futility of pursuit of something you can't nail down. And that's the real thrust of the reading that we had from Ecclesiastes - that we spend our lives trying to chase the wind, trying to pin down something that is by its nature fleeting.  Hammering down the wind is massively impossible.  You can use it, but you can't keep it, can't secure it.  It's going to go wherever it's going to go.

Now, most of what we busy ourselves with is chasing the wind.  That is, it's fleeting.  It's vanity.  It drifts away, and you can't secure it.  But we think we can, that's why we chase it.  The majority of what we're hunting is the physical stuff of this world that is impossible to pin down, impossible to secure.  The illusion is that you can secure it, but in practical terms, you can't.  It's always going to be chasing after the wind.

All the money, all the possessions, all that noise ends up being clutter that we think we can secure, but this is the realm that theives break in and steal, and moth and rust destroy.  The thing about the way the world works is that it is all running down, winding down, and whirling towards destruction.  All the physical stuff of this world is collapsing and falling apart, eventually.  That is, the things, the stuff of the earth, and the entire universe, is running down and falling apart.  There will come a time when the universe cools to nothing, and then that's it.  All the things you have ever owned will be dust and ashes, or will be sucked into a black hole, or will just cool to nothing whatsoever.  It's all running out, and it's not just that everything you ever earned will go to someone else eventually, as the Preacher opined, but that it will go to nobody.  It will just turn to dust eventually.

Boy, that's depressing.  It's the theme for the first chapter of a great book called 'the skeptical approach to religion,' which tells you that given that nothing you have ever done is ever going to
matter long term, how do you possibly get through the day?  I'm over-simplifying, of course, but that's the nature of our long term existence, which is to say that if you sit down and really think about the purpose behind your life, it will amount to nothing but pursuit of the wind.  Just flailing around.

But what Jesus tells us is something truly exciting.  Something that is of massive importance that can't be overstated.  In the Gospel, Jesus tells us that the things that we think of as permanent actually aren't.  They're not forever things.  The man who accumulates the grain into his barn, who tells himself 'self, you're doing fine, eat drink and be merry,' must realize that he is running out of time, and all the stuff he viewed as permanent is fleeting.  What is it that matters, after all?

The man at the beginning of the Gospel reading is calling on Jesus, saying to him 'Jesus, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.'  Sure.  And like most of us, when money gets into the picture, even family goes out of it.  Family can wear down and break down when faced with money, which we prioritize as being more important even than those whom we love.  We'd rather lose brothers and sisters than inheritances.

But Jesus reminds us that the money that we prize so much, it's all just chasing the wind.  Life is not what you buy, and what you have.  Focus on those two commandments of Christ - Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, strength and soul, and love your neighbor as yourself.  Everything else can and will sort itself out.  For those two things, unlike all our stuff, are forever, and they never go away.  If you truly believe what the Bible says about human beings, you will know that everything else in creation eventually goes away, it disappears, but people are all forever people.  Including us.  AND including the people that you don't like all that much.

That's the difference between the vanity promised in Ecclesiastes and the fulfilling life that he talks about at the end.  If you're running after the things of this world, then it will be exactly like chasing after the wind.  You're never going to pin it down, it's always going away.  The reading from Ecclesiastes ends with this most excellent passage "For to the one who pleases him, God has given wisdom and knowledge and joy."  Yes indeed.  And as you have noticed, life itself isnt' different between the Christian and the non-Christian, so what is different?  What ends up being different is the grounding of the faith, the base for the life that carries on.  If your life, as Jesus says, is based on the accumulation of possessions, then it's all vanity and chasing after the wind.  But if it's based around love for God first, and love for each other second, then each decision, each interaction each moment you spend with other human beings becomes of phenomenal importance, because those are the forever decisions that matter.  The cheeseburger is of momentary pleasure, but the server who gave it to you, who you may never see again until Paradise, is forever.  Of the two things, which one do we normally feel is more important, vs which one actually is?

Ultimately, part of what we perhaps unfortunately need to consider is the people we see are forever people.  That's the big lesson of Christianity, and understanding that means that your life doesn't consist of chasing the wind.  If the prioirities shift away from the things, the stuff of life, the monuments that are naturally moving towards destruction, and towards the people, then everything we do, every encounter we have with people, carries more weight and punch because those interactions, no matter how small, are of eternal consequence.  You can't look at anyone and say that they don't matter, that they aren't important, that the way you treat them is irrelevant, because as Jesus says:

"Truly, I tell you, just as you did it to one of least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me." (Matthew 25:40)

That's  a double edged sword.  If we refuse to treat each other well, then we are neglecting our divine calling as human beings, rejecting the good works which Jesus has prepared in advance for us to do.  But if we take that seriously, if we realign our priorities, then we notice that all the things of this world, the things we busy ourselves with, the things that the nations run after, all that is chasing after the wind.  Our priority is love for God, and love for each other.

And if we're not doing that perfectly, which, if we are honest, we aren't, then the scriptures still have some good news for us.  Some good news that tells us that God knows better than we do what is important.  Think of the moment where he was standing on top of an high mountain, and Satan showed him all the kingdoms of the world in all their splendor.  And Satan said to Jesus 'I will give you all this if you just bow down and worship me.'  And Jesus responds by telling Satan to get away, for all the kingdoms of the world are less important, less durable, than God, and his people.  Jesus came, shed his blood, and died to give you eternity, to make you into something that lasts longer than the stable earth, the great salt sea, around the old eternal rocks.  He came to make you, you child of dust, into something that lasts longer than the pyramids, than the monuments that are designed to stand forever, which are all falling apart and going away.  Heaven and earth may pass away, but his words will never pass away.  Take comfort in that, in the knowledge that his words of grace, of compassion, of love even for the wayward sinner are eternal.  He does not lose focus on what is important, on what is eternal, and he does not lose focus on you.