Michele and I have long been students of human nature. Michele was trained as a social
anthropologist and I as a family therapist. We’ve had many wide-ranging coffee talks over the years
about what makes humans tick, both from a spiritual point of view and from a more academic point of
view. I think we’ve long since come to agree that in cultures throughout the world, one of the most
central motivators in human nature is the drive to power and prestige. This seems to be a hub of
social interactions, no matter where you are in the world.
For example, Indians along the northwest coast of North America used to put on big feasts in which
they provided lavish food and gifts for the people of the other clans and families of their tribe. These
were called ‘potlatch.’ Sounds very noble and altruistic.
That is, until we find out that these feasts were sources of competition between clans. The ones
who showed off their wealth by putting on the biggest feasts would rise to the top of the prestige
pyramid and have the opportunity to bask in the glow of others’ admiration for a year.
It seems like virtually every culture on earth has customs that are geared toward this whole prestige
thing. Whether we’re talking about ruling families in African countries hoarding national wealth for
personal benefit, or Imelda Marcos buying hundreds of pairs of shoes in the midst of grinding
poverty in the Philippines, or Americans and Europeans vying for status by outdoing each other in
philanthropy, it seems like the drives to power and prestige are almost universal motivators among
human beings. If you don’t believe me, spend some time people-watching in Washington, D.C. next
time you’re back East. For that matter, check what’s parked in some of the driveways on the street
where you live.
Even the church isn’t immune from this. For instance, who hasn’t at one time or another, observed
that clergy person who struts down the aisle in the colorful vestments with perhaps a little too much
enthusiasm, or pronounces the absolution with just a slight overtone of “Gee whiz, look at me!”
Time to plant a lightning rod nearby.
Many students of human nature have concluded that the drive for prestige is hard-wired into our
species. And according to the scriptures, there are certain other things that are universal among
humans. Just think of some oft-repeated verses. “All we like sheep have gone astray.” “All have
sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” “There is no one who is righteous, not even one.” Do you
suppose there might be a connection between these two phenomena?
That’s what both Jesus and James seem to be telling us in our New Testament readings this
morning. The drive to be first may just be linked with our sin nature.
I don’t know whether we should be more embarrassed by the behavior of certain of the disciples, or
by seeing ourselves in them. I love the way Mark presents this. He says that the crew gets back to
Capernaum. Jesus enters the house—and again I can’t help but picture a little twinkle in his eye as
he says, “So what were you guys arguing about back there on the road?” Mark writes, “But they
were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest.” Can’t you
just picture this? Heads hanging a bit lower, and the disciples in question exchanging embarrassed,
sidelong glances. Something like our dog Nizhoni after she’s caught in some act of doggy iniquity.
So Jesus sits down, calls a team meeting and says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all
and servant of all.” Once again Jesus turns conventional wisdom on its head. It like that old comedy
album titled “Everything You Know Is Wrong.” You see, it really isn’t until we acknowledge how
universal our desire for admiration and prestige is, that we realize just how revolutionary Jesus’
teaching is.
And James drives the point home in his letter. Like Jesus, he’s not one to mince words. He writes,
“Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But if you have
bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. Such
wisdom does not come down form above, but is earthly, unspiritual and devilish.”
What it comes down to is displaying genuine humility. I say “genuine humility” to distinguish it from
how some of us tend to think of humility. It’s not just about saying “Aw, shucks” when someone gives
us a compliment. It’s about considering the welfare of others ahead of our own concerns. Piece of
cake, right? Well, if this were true neither Jesus nor James would have had to address it. There are
a couple of tricky pieces to this. First, when we become focused on our behavior, it’s awfully easy
once again to fall into that trap of thinking that it’s what we do that earns us God’s approval and our
eventual reward.
So let’s bring this right back to the point we established a few weeks ago when we first started
looking at James’ letter. We’re forgiven by God through the sacrificial actions of our Lord Jesus
Christ. We didn’t earn it; it was a gift. And in response to that gift the Lord wants us to channel our
gratitude and our desire to please him into obedience. By showing humility, we’re exercising
obedience and at the same time giving evidence of an authentic faith.
The second trick has to do with this same thing. I mentioned that sometimes our motivation to do
good works is recognition by others. Now, this is of course a lot better than not doing good works at
all. But when we do this our attention is still focused on the self. The kind of humility Jesus and
James are describing is not a self-focused humility. It’s not one that has to necessarily keep
checking ourselves to see how we’re doing, but simply doing the right thing, almost as a second
nature. The self-focused form of service is sort of like pulling the carrot out of the ground to see if it’
s ripe yet. It kind of defeats the whole purpose. Service in a mode of genuine humility is like trusting
the carrot’s growth as it’s nurtured by sun, soil, and rain. Letting the carrot simply be the carrot,
growing naturally in Christ. It’s an identity thing.
The thing is, when we’re secure in our identity, we don’t need to constantly be worrying about our
reputation. In fact we’re even free to laugh at ourselves. And this, I think is the key. What is our
identity? And how does this help us be humble? Well, Paul tell us pretty exactly what our identity is.
Listen to his words: “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we
are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his
sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.”
Some years back, through a little concerted genealogical study we found that, through my mom’s
side of the family, we’re apparently descendants of the great Scottish king Robert the Bruce. I have
to admit that I did a little “woo-hoo” and fist pump, and held my head a little higher for a few weeks. I
probably even entertained the devilish thought from time to time: “Wow. I bet you can’t claim
anything like that!”
Then, when I thought about it, I had to admit that this had nothing whatever to do with my own innate
abilities. I didn’t exhibit any particular good taste by choosing to be a descendant of Robert the
Bruce. Rather, it was, I suppose, something of a gift of inheritance. And it provided a further dollop
of humility when another descendant of King Robert patiently pointed out in a Bruce Clan blog that,
because of the limited gene pool and amount of intermarriage in Scotland, just about anyone with an
ounce of Scottish blood would probably find that they, too, are descendants of Robert the Bruce.
That kind of took the starch out of my kilt.
The point is, being children of God and joint heirs with Christ is a consequence of God’s
proactive love and choosing, and not because we had the particular good taste to be Christians. We’
re in the family by his doing, not ours. The nice thing about this is that we can then simply accept
our very good fortune and get on with living our lives in humble service to the One who’s showed us
such love. We’re children of the king, and it’s OK to feel pretty good about that. But not because it
makes us better than anyone else. Does that make sense? Good.
James makes one final point that I think it’s important for us to attend to. He points out to his
readers that some of them are vying with each other and becoming downright nasty out of being
covetous of each other. Wanting what the other guy has. And then he says something very
profound. He says, “You don’t have, because you don’t ask. You ask and you don’t receive,
because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures.” We look over at what
our neighbor has, and in a sign of our own lack of faith in God’s provision, we simply get annoyed
with them. We covet their stuff.
And when we do ask God, we ask with the wrong motives. “Oh, Lord, if I could just have that new
pickup truck. I’ve been good, haven’t I? Don’t you think I deserve just this one thing? I mean, I gave
our old clothes to charity and I’m paid up on my pledge. Isn’t it my turn to get something now?” But
James says that we need to submit ourselves to God. To make His priorities our priorities, rather
than catering to our own desires for comfort, or pleasure, or prestige. The thing is, we’ve already
won the big prize, so now our path is to obey God and humbly share our good fortune with others, in
word and in deed.
Jesus says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” James and Jesus
agree that this should be at the very core of our lives as Christians.
I close with these words of J. C. Ryle about our Gospel reading: “There is rich encouragement here
for all who devote themselves to the charitable work of doing good to neglected souls. There is
encouragement for everyone who labors to restore the outcast to a place in society, to raise the
fallen, to gather together the ragged children, whom no one cares for, to pluck the worst of
characters from a life of sin, like brands from the burning and to bring the wanderers home. Let all
such take comfort when they read these words. Their work may often be hard and discouraging.
They may be mocked, ridiculed and held up to scorn by the world. But let them know that the Son of
God marks all they do and is well pleased. Whatever the world may think, these are they whom
Jesus will delight to honor at the last day.” These words were published in 1879.
May we never forget whose we are, and in whose name we humbly labor. And as we strive to obey
by doing our works in His name, may we never lose sight of the joy that awaits all who respond to His
Word—a Word both spoken and acted upon. Amen.
anthropologist and I as a family therapist. We’ve had many wide-ranging coffee talks over the years
about what makes humans tick, both from a spiritual point of view and from a more academic point of
view. I think we’ve long since come to agree that in cultures throughout the world, one of the most
central motivators in human nature is the drive to power and prestige. This seems to be a hub of
social interactions, no matter where you are in the world.
For example, Indians along the northwest coast of North America used to put on big feasts in which
they provided lavish food and gifts for the people of the other clans and families of their tribe. These
were called ‘potlatch.’ Sounds very noble and altruistic.
That is, until we find out that these feasts were sources of competition between clans. The ones
who showed off their wealth by putting on the biggest feasts would rise to the top of the prestige
pyramid and have the opportunity to bask in the glow of others’ admiration for a year.
It seems like virtually every culture on earth has customs that are geared toward this whole prestige
thing. Whether we’re talking about ruling families in African countries hoarding national wealth for
personal benefit, or Imelda Marcos buying hundreds of pairs of shoes in the midst of grinding
poverty in the Philippines, or Americans and Europeans vying for status by outdoing each other in
philanthropy, it seems like the drives to power and prestige are almost universal motivators among
human beings. If you don’t believe me, spend some time people-watching in Washington, D.C. next
time you’re back East. For that matter, check what’s parked in some of the driveways on the street
where you live.
Even the church isn’t immune from this. For instance, who hasn’t at one time or another, observed
that clergy person who struts down the aisle in the colorful vestments with perhaps a little too much
enthusiasm, or pronounces the absolution with just a slight overtone of “Gee whiz, look at me!”
Time to plant a lightning rod nearby.
Many students of human nature have concluded that the drive for prestige is hard-wired into our
species. And according to the scriptures, there are certain other things that are universal among
humans. Just think of some oft-repeated verses. “All we like sheep have gone astray.” “All have
sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” “There is no one who is righteous, not even one.” Do you
suppose there might be a connection between these two phenomena?
That’s what both Jesus and James seem to be telling us in our New Testament readings this
morning. The drive to be first may just be linked with our sin nature.
I don’t know whether we should be more embarrassed by the behavior of certain of the disciples, or
by seeing ourselves in them. I love the way Mark presents this. He says that the crew gets back to
Capernaum. Jesus enters the house—and again I can’t help but picture a little twinkle in his eye as
he says, “So what were you guys arguing about back there on the road?” Mark writes, “But they
were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest.” Can’t you
just picture this? Heads hanging a bit lower, and the disciples in question exchanging embarrassed,
sidelong glances. Something like our dog Nizhoni after she’s caught in some act of doggy iniquity.
So Jesus sits down, calls a team meeting and says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all
and servant of all.” Once again Jesus turns conventional wisdom on its head. It like that old comedy
album titled “Everything You Know Is Wrong.” You see, it really isn’t until we acknowledge how
universal our desire for admiration and prestige is, that we realize just how revolutionary Jesus’
teaching is.
And James drives the point home in his letter. Like Jesus, he’s not one to mince words. He writes,
“Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But if you have
bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. Such
wisdom does not come down form above, but is earthly, unspiritual and devilish.”
What it comes down to is displaying genuine humility. I say “genuine humility” to distinguish it from
how some of us tend to think of humility. It’s not just about saying “Aw, shucks” when someone gives
us a compliment. It’s about considering the welfare of others ahead of our own concerns. Piece of
cake, right? Well, if this were true neither Jesus nor James would have had to address it. There are
a couple of tricky pieces to this. First, when we become focused on our behavior, it’s awfully easy
once again to fall into that trap of thinking that it’s what we do that earns us God’s approval and our
eventual reward.
So let’s bring this right back to the point we established a few weeks ago when we first started
looking at James’ letter. We’re forgiven by God through the sacrificial actions of our Lord Jesus
Christ. We didn’t earn it; it was a gift. And in response to that gift the Lord wants us to channel our
gratitude and our desire to please him into obedience. By showing humility, we’re exercising
obedience and at the same time giving evidence of an authentic faith.
The second trick has to do with this same thing. I mentioned that sometimes our motivation to do
good works is recognition by others. Now, this is of course a lot better than not doing good works at
all. But when we do this our attention is still focused on the self. The kind of humility Jesus and
James are describing is not a self-focused humility. It’s not one that has to necessarily keep
checking ourselves to see how we’re doing, but simply doing the right thing, almost as a second
nature. The self-focused form of service is sort of like pulling the carrot out of the ground to see if it’
s ripe yet. It kind of defeats the whole purpose. Service in a mode of genuine humility is like trusting
the carrot’s growth as it’s nurtured by sun, soil, and rain. Letting the carrot simply be the carrot,
growing naturally in Christ. It’s an identity thing.
The thing is, when we’re secure in our identity, we don’t need to constantly be worrying about our
reputation. In fact we’re even free to laugh at ourselves. And this, I think is the key. What is our
identity? And how does this help us be humble? Well, Paul tell us pretty exactly what our identity is.
Listen to his words: “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we
are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his
sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.”
Some years back, through a little concerted genealogical study we found that, through my mom’s
side of the family, we’re apparently descendants of the great Scottish king Robert the Bruce. I have
to admit that I did a little “woo-hoo” and fist pump, and held my head a little higher for a few weeks. I
probably even entertained the devilish thought from time to time: “Wow. I bet you can’t claim
anything like that!”
Then, when I thought about it, I had to admit that this had nothing whatever to do with my own innate
abilities. I didn’t exhibit any particular good taste by choosing to be a descendant of Robert the
Bruce. Rather, it was, I suppose, something of a gift of inheritance. And it provided a further dollop
of humility when another descendant of King Robert patiently pointed out in a Bruce Clan blog that,
because of the limited gene pool and amount of intermarriage in Scotland, just about anyone with an
ounce of Scottish blood would probably find that they, too, are descendants of Robert the Bruce.
That kind of took the starch out of my kilt.
The point is, being children of God and joint heirs with Christ is a consequence of God’s
proactive love and choosing, and not because we had the particular good taste to be Christians. We’
re in the family by his doing, not ours. The nice thing about this is that we can then simply accept
our very good fortune and get on with living our lives in humble service to the One who’s showed us
such love. We’re children of the king, and it’s OK to feel pretty good about that. But not because it
makes us better than anyone else. Does that make sense? Good.
James makes one final point that I think it’s important for us to attend to. He points out to his
readers that some of them are vying with each other and becoming downright nasty out of being
covetous of each other. Wanting what the other guy has. And then he says something very
profound. He says, “You don’t have, because you don’t ask. You ask and you don’t receive,
because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures.” We look over at what
our neighbor has, and in a sign of our own lack of faith in God’s provision, we simply get annoyed
with them. We covet their stuff.
And when we do ask God, we ask with the wrong motives. “Oh, Lord, if I could just have that new
pickup truck. I’ve been good, haven’t I? Don’t you think I deserve just this one thing? I mean, I gave
our old clothes to charity and I’m paid up on my pledge. Isn’t it my turn to get something now?” But
James says that we need to submit ourselves to God. To make His priorities our priorities, rather
than catering to our own desires for comfort, or pleasure, or prestige. The thing is, we’ve already
won the big prize, so now our path is to obey God and humbly share our good fortune with others, in
word and in deed.
Jesus says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” James and Jesus
agree that this should be at the very core of our lives as Christians.
I close with these words of J. C. Ryle about our Gospel reading: “There is rich encouragement here
for all who devote themselves to the charitable work of doing good to neglected souls. There is
encouragement for everyone who labors to restore the outcast to a place in society, to raise the
fallen, to gather together the ragged children, whom no one cares for, to pluck the worst of
characters from a life of sin, like brands from the burning and to bring the wanderers home. Let all
such take comfort when they read these words. Their work may often be hard and discouraging.
They may be mocked, ridiculed and held up to scorn by the world. But let them know that the Son of
God marks all they do and is well pleased. Whatever the world may think, these are they whom
Jesus will delight to honor at the last day.” These words were published in 1879.
May we never forget whose we are, and in whose name we humbly labor. And as we strive to obey
by doing our works in His name, may we never lose sight of the joy that awaits all who respond to His
Word—a Word both spoken and acted upon. Amen.
Christian Humility
Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 20, 2009
The Rev. Daniel Tuton
The Rev. Daniel Tuton
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