For his birthday, a young priest I knew while in the seminary was given a bronze plaque that read, “Humility isn’t one of my faults, but if I had one, that would be it.” Clearly someone on the parish staff was hinting loudly that he needed to heed the advice from Sirach, “My child, conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts.” A humble attitude he didn’t have and soon afterwards, he left the priesthood. Rather than seeing humility as a fault, the readings convey the urgent message to us that this is the key for encountering God.
In the gospel, Jesus wasn’t talking about table manners or snobbery when he used parables to advise the Pharisees. Rather, he was warning his audience that self-exaltation, the opposite of humility, excludes one from the eternal banquet. The big danger of self-exaltation is the likelihood to deny one’s sins.
Remember, the Pharisees viewed themselves as diligent followers of the law, down to the tiniest details. They fully expected, as the holiest people in Israel, to be seated in places of honor at the Lord’s banquet. But Jesus uses the occasion to caution them as he cautions us that our salvation does not depend on our actions alone but also on our motives. He tells them that their social status in the eyes of others was not as important as their good standing in the eyes of God.
Twenty seven years ago, I spent the summer as a chaplain at the Fircrest School in Shoreline, a home then for 500 severely disabled people of all ages. God bless them, they were great teachers. Before I began working there, I struggled with the issue of self esteem. I would affirm myself by the things I could do. Those things I could do well, I tried to do even better but those things I couldn’t do well, I was reluctant to try at all for fear that I would fail. If the results did not meet my expectations, I didn’t feel good about myself.
I was allowing success or failure to shape my self worth rather than the conviction that God loves me. The children at Fircrest helped me to realize that God never intended me to do all things well. They accepted their limitations and prompted me to do the same, recognizing and overcoming my inner fears.
They reminded me of the humanity of Jesus. Too often we think of Jesus as the son of God, forgetting about Jesus, the man from Nazareth, who like you and me, could also sweat, hunger, thirst, ache and complain when something didn’t go right. Jesus viewed humility, not as a weakness or a fault, but as strength. No virtue describes him better.
He did not hide behind false pretenses or rest on his laurels. Nor did Jesus attempt to be weaker than he actually was for he knew that too much humility was simply another form of pride. Rather, he recognized his talents and used them, working hard at whatever he did. He challenged his listeners to understand themselves and not dwell on their shortcomings. If we see no good in ourselves, we fail to see God’s creative love for us, becoming victims of false pride.
One resident of Fircrest, whom I will never forget, was a blind, crippled teenager, named Johnny. He made me realize how much we have to offer one another. Johnny was so ugly that he reminded me of the elephant man. I was hesitant to minister to him until my supervisor suggested that I let Johnny minister to me instead. Putting aside my fears, I allowed him to literally move his fingers all over my face, pulling at my hearing aids. As he did so, I sensed the presence of God. In those few weeks, Johnny enabled me to be honest with my feelings and accepting of my limitations.
Mother Teresa of Calcutta, born a century ago in Albania, was a modern day example of one who accepted her limitations and humbly reached out to the sick and dying in the streets of Calcutta. She allowed God to work through her as she tended to their needs, setting an example for the rest of us. Humility was the cornerstone of her spirituality. Here in our parish, we can find many examples of friends who very much involve God in their lives while serving and respecting others.
That was what Jesus was challenging the Pharisees to do, calling on them to invite the crippled, the poor, and the blind into their lives. We too are being called to lay aside our fears and prejudices and to accepting of them as God is of us. Ironically, I first preached on these readings on the 20th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s most famous speech in which he prayed, “I have a dream that one day my children will be judged, not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” Are we judging others today by the content of their character? Or like the Pharisees, are we judging them by whatever physical or mental limitations they have, or their social status, or their religious beliefs, or their ethnic origins?
Jesus warns us not to seek that which gives us a false sense of pride, sharing a banquet only with those who can bolster our false selves. A mindset of “what’s in it for me?” leaves us blind to God’s love but if we put ourselves in touch with our true selves, then we can see that all we have is God’s love to us.
True humility is what allows us to be open to the presence of God. When we accept ourselves, we can begin to accept others and to forgive them. Only then can we realize that God has always been willing to forgive us and accept us for who we are. Granted, humility is hard, requiring honesty, effort, and courage, but it brings about the greatest reward, an invitation to the eternal banquet. Here and now, humility heals souls and relationships, but more importantly, this “fault” makes possible an intimate relationship with God.