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pride

This entry is part 6 of 10 in the series humility

This is the sixth in a series on humility; it starts with “got humility?“

Yesterday’s post on Jesus, humility, and relationships anticipated the next step in Andrew Murray’s teaching. Murray moves from his foundation of humility in the life of Jesus to consider how it will be borne out in the life of the believer. He begins with 1 John 4:20: “for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.” Murray contends that humility will be seen in relationships with people and not just with God:

It is a solemn thought that our love for God is measured by our everyday relationships with others. Except as its validity is proven in standing the test of daily life with our fellowmen, our love for God may be found to be a delusion. It is easy to think that we humble ourselves before God, but our humility toward others is the only sufficient proof that humility before God is real… In God’s presence, humility is not a posture we assume for a time–when we think of Him or pray to Him–but the very spirit of our life. It will manifest itself in all our bearing toward others. A lesson of deepest importance is that the only humility that is really ours is not the kind we try to show before God in prayer, but the kind we carry with us, and carry out, in our ordinary conduct. The seemingly insignificant acts of daily life are the test of eternity, because they prove what spirit possesses us… Humility before God is nothing if it is not proven in humility before others.

Holy Spirit, search my heart and uncover the pride that lurks there. Show me how to live in true humility, and give me opportunities to live it in my relationships, just as Jesus did.

This is a dangerous prayer, because it guarantees that our relationships will offer us the chance to choose humility; we will be put to the test. But it’s the only way to grow; humility is developed not in isolation but in interaction. If we truly want to be humble, this is a risk we must be willing to take.

This entry is part 5 of 10 in the series humility

This is the fifth in a series on humility; it starts with “got humility?

I’m seeing that a large part of growing in humility is learning to love people. I started to write “deal with people,” but deal sounds so…unloving. I don’t want to be one who sees others as something to deal with, as if people were obstacles; I want to love people as if they are the most important thing around. And that requires humility, total dependence on and trust in God. As my family will tell you, humility does not come naturally to me, and I know that only with God’s help can I walk consistently in humility and love in my relationships.

Reading Luke 4 today made this all the clearer. Jesus returns to Nazareth, his hometown, and goes to the synagogue on the Sabbath. It suddenly occurred to me: Jesus had history with these people–decades of history. These citizens of Nazareth who tried to kill Jesus because He offended them: Jesus had grown up with them, played with them, worked for them, lived with them. Back in June, I wrote about my realization that Jesus had a real job for many years; today I realized that Jesus had a lot of relational issues to deal with.

Thirty-three years of parents, brothers and sisters, friends, neighbors, customers, vendors. Thirty-three years of relationships, and He never sinned. Not once. Is that amazing, or what?

When I think about the perfection of Jesus, I tend to think of the “big” things: He didn’t steal, didn’t lie, didn’t lust. I knew theoretically that this also meant He never swore at someone in anger, never made a dig to build Himself up, never joked at someone’s expense. I knew it in theory, but I had never considered the implications. Imagine this scenario:

Jesus: I’ve finished your shelves–just what you ordered.
Woman: It’s too tall.
Jesus: Three cubits high, two cubits wide. That’s what you told me.
Woman: But that was when I wanted them for the living room. I’ve decided to put them in the bedroom, and those shelves would just dominate that room. No, it’s too tall. I don’t want these.
Jesus: But you didn’t take the last set I built because the color was wrong.
Woman: I know, but it’s so hard to visualize how the finished product will look with the other furniture. When I got home, I thought that color would be perfect in the bedroom, so that’s where I want them. And they are beautiful. Just the right color. But too tall. You’ll need to make them smaller.
Jesus: Yes Ma’am. What are the measurements for the bedroom?

Imagine dealing with this (could you read it without putting some sort of negative inflection on any of Jesus’ responses? It’s hard!)–dealing with this, and with insults, words spoken in anger or sarcasm, actions from thoughtlessness or from hurtful intentions–dealing, in short, with fallen human nature, and never sinning. I continue to be astounded as I ponder this. I find it a challenge to make it through one day without messing up multiple interactions, and Jesus made it through an entire life.

The question, of course, is how did He do it? Andrew Murray points us to Jesus’ language:

Listen to the words our Lord speaks of His relationship to the Father and see how consistently He uses the words not and nothing of Himself…

  • “The Son can do nothing by himself” (John 5:19)
  • “By myself I can do nothing; I judge only as I hear, and my judgment is just, for I seek not to please myself but Him who sent Me” (John 5:30)
  • “I do not accept praise from men” (John 5:41)
  • “For I have come down from heaven not to do my will” (John 6:38)
  • “My teaching is not my own” (John 7:16)
  • “I am not here on my own” (John 7:28)
  • “I do nothing on my own” (John 8:28)
  • “I have not come on my own; but He sent Me” (John 8:42)
  • “I am not seeking glory for myself” (John 8:50)
  • “The words I say to you are not just my own” (John 14:10)
  • These words you hear are not my own” (John 14:24)

Murray concludes:

These words of testimony, spoken by the Lord himself, reveal the deepest motivation of His life and work… He was nothing that God might be all.

This life of entire self-abnegation, of absolute submission and dependence upon the Father’s will, Christ found to be the source of perfect peace and joy. He lost nothing by giving all to God.

He never for a moment sought His own honor or asserted His power to vindicate himself. His whole spirit was that of a life yielded to God.

“He lost nothing by giving all to God”: that’s the crux, isn’t it? Pride is about the fear of losing to others. If I don’t respond to this, I’ll lose face. I need to put him in his place, or he’ll think he’s won. I won’t her get the better of me. Add to this thinking the fact that humility looks like being a doormat, and we see why humility in relationships comes so hard.

But when I consider what I get when I assert my rights and seek to win…I get trouble. I allow strife into my home, I open the door to condemnation, and I invite the Spirit’s conviction; none of these is pleasant, and the consequences tend to last a while. In contrast, when I allow humility to guide me in my relationships, I experience the momentary pain of self-denial, but that’s it. And that doesn’t last very long. So what do I have to lose? According to Jesus, nothing.

the fruit of pride

August 31, 2006
This entry is part 3 of 10 in the series humility

Yesterday, I wrote about the start of Andrew Murray’s book Humility and the tremendous blessing that humility brings. Murray states that humility is “being clothed with the very beauty and blessedness of Jesus.” Having offered this enticement, he moves in the second chapter to graphically describe the fruit of pride.

As Murray sees it, we will either walk in pride because we are bearing the fruit of sin, or we will walk in humility because we are bearing the fruit of Jesus Christ living in us. Adam and Eve walked in humility–total dependence on God–until they believed the lie of Satan and allowed pride in. Murray writes that the life that came from Adam and Eve

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some thoughts on being righteous

May 10, 2006

I was rather embarrassed the other day when I realized that it had been quite some time since I had simply read the Bible instead of a book about the Bible. So, I’m going to read the Psalms for a while.

Psalm 1 has a wonderful promise for the righteous man or woman:

He is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither.
Whatever he does prospers. (v. 3)…

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