Humility and Holiness: Seeing Less of Myself

The one infallible test of our holiness will be the humility before God and men which marks us. . . .  The chief mark of counterfeit holiness is its lack of humility.

Two men went up into the temple to pray: the one a Pharisee, the other a publican.  There is no place or position so sacred but the Pharisee can enter there. Pride can lift its head in the very temple of God, and make His worship the scene of its self exaltation.

Yes, even when in the temple the language of penitence and trust in God's mercy alone is heard, the Pharisee may take up the note of praise, and in thanking God be congratulating himself. Pride can clothe itself in the garments of praise or of penitence. Even though the words, "I am not as the rest of men" are rejected and condemned, their spirit may too often be found in our feelings and language towards our fellowworshippers and fellow-men.

[Such pride] can be recognized, not always in any special selfassertion or self-laudation, but simply in the absence of that deep self-abasement which cannot but be the mark of the soul that has seen the glory of God (Job 42: 5, 6; Isa.6: 5). It reveals itself, not only in words or thoughts, but in a tone, a way of speaking of others, in which those who have the gift of spiritual discernment cannot but recognize the power of self.

Unless we make, with each advance in what we think holiness, the increase of humility our study, we may find that we have been delighting in beautiful thoughts and feelings, in solemn acts of consecration and faith,while the only sure mark of the presence of God, the disappearance of self, was all the time wanting.  (Andrew Murray, Humility, Chapter 7)

 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”  (Luke 18:14)

 As a person who wants to write well, I am particularly drawn to beautiful or ingenious words or thoughts.  I can be taken away with how I go about saying something more than what I am seeking to say.  While being nice and mannerly can really play an important role in any personal interaction, it is the attitude within my heart that will make even plain words profound or beautiful words ugly.

So in many situations, I am faced with the those two men "coming up to pray."  I can be planning my day at work, talking with my wife at home, teaching my kids, or worshiping at church.  I will find those two with me in my heart.  One stands above everyone else, the other beneath.  One looks around for reasons to feel good about himself, the other seeks to be honest and true.

As an example, I can see that planning my time at home would have these two attitudes at war within me.  I can think about how much work I do compared to everyone else (at least in my own eyes) and commend myself to others by recounting all that I do.  From that I feel pretty justified in leaving certain things undone, things that are unimportant (especially to me).  Maybe, though another voice might speak loudly enough to hear: "It's all a gift to you.  You didn't earn any of it.  Even your ability to work is not entirely yours."  I might find myself grateful to be able to work for people I love and want to learn how to love.  No amount of work will repay what I've been given, so I need not work to earn, but work out of thankfulness.

I think this goes a little deeper than the little angel on one shoulder and the little devil on the other.  First of all, both the men worshiped in the temple.  They aren't doing different things.  What made them different was how they worshiped.  Same with my work at home.  Either way I do the work, but the attitudes are entirely different.  The attitude will determine how I work.

One thing helpful in changing attitudes here is realizing that these two men are utterly different.  Their attitudes are two different sides of the spectrum.  Jesus told this story to show a choice I have.  Either I will be like the Pharisee or the publican (tax collector).

With this in mind, I have two ways I can seek to be like the tax collector.  I can seek to be like him directly or I can seek to not be like the Pharisee.  I can more easily recall Jesus encouraging his followers to not be like Pharisees ("Beware the yeast of the Pharisees", "Your righteousness must surpass that of the Pharisees", "Do what they say, but do not do what they do", etc.).  I think he did this knowing that humility is not obtained directly, but indirectly.

What I find so helpful in Murray's comments is the connection between humility before God and humility before people.  What counts is humility before God.  It is what brings humility toward other people.  As a result, humility toward other people ends up being a good indicator of my humility before God.  If I am humble before God, I will be humble before people, so if I am not humble before people, I am not humble before God.

Humility is marked by the absence of self: self-consciousness as well as self-aggrandizement, self-contempt as well as self-worship.  A life lived before God is one where the self becomes invisible, neither petted and fondled, nor whipped and beaten.  As Murray says, God becomes all and I become nothing (but not worthless).  Such is the basis for holy living, life as it should be before God.  Such a life is "justified" or made right before God.

Each moment gives me opportunities for such living.  What if I really didn't have to worry about myself?  What if I could really trust God in each moment to work, play, and rest along with me?  What if all the burdens I have to lift in my life are easy because he is at the other end?  Worship might look a lot different as well as playing with my dogs at home.  And both would be holiness.

Be still, my soul, the Lord is at thy side.  I need not worry or complain.  I can trust instead of trying to please, because you are pleased with my trust, Father.  Let humility permeate my life as I look to you as my refuge and strength.  Amen.