Jesus reminds us to be humble, to seek humility, to learn it and grow in it. We praise beauty; we praise excellence; we praise performance. Humility is more worthy of praise. Scripture is quite plain, and Jesus is quite plain: those who humble themselves shall be honored. By whom? By God. If you are honored by God, you are honored indeed. The proverbs observe that “humility goes before honor” (Pr 15:3, 18:12). “The reward for humility and fear of the Lord is riches and honor and life” (Pr 22:4).

That famous philosopher, Unknown, said that “Many would be scantily clad if clothed in humility.” We haven’t sought to make humility our garment. Humility, for most, must be cultivated; it doesn’t come naturally, for most of us. We may see ourselves as humble, but is that how others see us? I’ve never been one to worry what others thought of me, but, sometimes, difficult truth can be discerned from how others think of us. We can conscientiously seek to cultivate humility in ourselves, or we can be humbled by life, by events, by God.

What is humility? It is not humiliation. That extreme might be one way God cultivates humility in us, if our hearts are too stubborn to allow God another way. It’s all about the way. Whose way? Jesus came in greatest humility because he came, not to do his own will, but the will of his Father in heaven. Not our way but God’s way: not putting my way before God’s way, not reinterpreting God’s way to suit my way. Humility does not worship self. Humility has no idols. Humility, therefore, offers a purer worship, beautiful, full-hearted, mindful.

Putting God’s way before your way, God’s will before your will—this is humility, the heart of humility. Humility is that phrase we don’t really understand: the fear of the Lord. Because we do not really understand, or even especially like, this fear of the Lord about which the Bible speaks with insistence and frequency, we do not really understand humility, even when it comes to us in our own form and likeness, in Jesus, who is Christ—the humblest man, who offers the purest, most perfect worship, and so saves us. We don’t understand this fear of the Lord, but if we know our Bible well enough, we remember that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Humility is likewise the beginning of wisdom. There is wisdom in humility. If you would be wise, be humble, become humble.

The humble disciple knows he or she is under the authority of Jesus, under the authority of the Word of God, the word of salvation, the way of life, true life, abundant life, here and hereafter. The great hypocrisy in the Church today is that too many see themselves as under the authority of God’s Word even as they revise God’s way to bring it in line with their way. This is old stuff. The Reformers denounced this practice among their Catholic brethren. Jesus denounced it among that strictest, most zealously faithful group, the Pharisees. When disciples today take the Bible and explain it away rather than submitting themselves to its shaping, saving, sanctifying authority, they are only the latest in a long line.

That Old Testament prophet, Zephaniah, says, “Seek the Lord, all you humble of the land, who do His commands; seek righteousness, seek humility; perhaps you may be hidden on the day of the Lord’s wrath” (Zeph 2:3). The humble live according to God’s teaching, confessing their deviations from it, and trusting in God to give them grace to amend. The humble seek righteousness. The humble seek humility, growing in it. There is a deep connection between humility and wisdom. Zephaniah points to a deep connection between righteousness and humility. In humility there is hope; indeed, the humble know hope very well, because they know God: the humble know, in faith and love, that all things are in God’s hands: the best possible place for all things to be. The humble know by faith that they shall be hidden in Christ on the day of the Lord’s wrath.

Humility might well be regarded as the foundation of righteousness. But isn’t it faith? Indeed, it is. We discover that there is a deep, necessary, beautiful, glorious, and gracious connection between humility and faith. In the letter to the faithful in Colossae from which I preached earlier this summer, Paul writes this way: “As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience” (Col 3:12). Holy and beloved. Holy because beloved, beloved by God in Christ, through Christ, for the sake of Christ. Compassion, kindness, patience—these are dimensions of righteousness. Paul sets these in company with meekness—another virtue that we aren’t quite sold on—and with humility. Humility, compassion, kindness, patience—humility is compassionate; humility knows kindness and is kind; humility is patient and teaches patience. Humility is a gift of the Spirit and the fruit of the Spirit. One cannot be humble and not be compassionate, not be kind, not be patient. To be humble is to be all these, as well. Perhaps this is why St. Augustine said that “If you plan to build a tall house of virtues, you must first lay deep foundations of humility.”

Humility is Christ. James gives us a great hope. He writes that God “gives all the more grace; therefore, it says, ‘God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble’” (James 4:6). How does God give grace to the humble? Christ. So, James urges us, encourages us, “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will exalt you” (James 4:10). Or, as Proverbs put it, “The reward for humility and fear of the Lord is riches and honor and life” (Pr 22:4). Riches, honor, life—Christ. The reward for humility is Christ who is humility.

How is Christ humility? The one through whom all things were created, for whom all things were created, delights in abiding with us. He rejoices in being with us. Can you imagine? Do we rejoice in being with him? Our muddy lives don’t make that clear. Our hearts, though—ah, our hearts! Look into your divided heart with the eyes Jesus gives you: I promise, you will become humble. Humility makes us clear-eyed, clear-hearted about our shortcomings, and about our gifts, gifts given to be offered, in humility, even as Christ came humbly. And how humbly he comes among us, today, through such common bread, such common juice. Nothing remarkable, nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, yet, through the Spirit, how extraordinary! The Humble One comes to the humble and to the proud. This is the mystery of this meal: humility recognizes humility.

Different pastors distribute and receive the bread and the juice in different ways. It might be helpful to let you know my thinking behind the way I do this. In some churches, the pastor and the elders serve one another first, then the congregation. There are historical and theological reasons for that. I hear Jesus say that the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve; thus, I understand leadership in the church to be servant leadership; thus, I see myself as last of all and least of all; my prayer is to grow in that humility, always. The elders serve you first. Then I serve the elders. But who serves me? I take the bread. Because no one else is worthy? Mr. Holy, here? No, the servant of the servants is not served but serves; when all have eaten, then the servant may eat.

Humility gives. Humility shares. Humility receives. Humility is blessed and blesses. Humility is Christ, and we are Christ’s, and Christ is here, and will be with us, through this bread and this juice, by faith: this is from our Father, by the Holy Spirit. True humility glows with heavenly light. The humble have found their worth in God.

Now to the One who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all we can ask or imagine, to God be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever.