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Humility
Sermon by Rev. Sarah Buteux
for Sunday, August 29, 2004
Scripture: Luke 14:7-11
"To the extent that a person can humble himself before the Lord,
to the extent that he can love his neighbor as himself, and - as they do in heaven
above himself, he accepts the Divine and for that reason lives in heaven."
Emanual Swedenborg - Arcana Celestia 8678
When people get upset or excited they often have a stock word or phrase that pops out. Some of the tamer ones that we were allowed to use as children were things like: "Oh my goodness," "Dear Lord," and "What on earth". Probably because I grew up with such a limited number of acceptable exclamations, I have always found the use of Jesus' name in this manner rather jarring and just the other day I began to wonder where it originated. I mean, when in time did people decide that it was socially acceptable to use the name of the Lord in such a way?
As my mother-in-law pointed out to me a while back, "They can even say it on television now." Was it just in the past few years? It's hard for me to imagine subservient medieval serfs, prim and proper Victorians, or even my grandmother for that matter, using the Lord's name in vain, as we used to call it. It wasn't until I read this week's gospel passage that I realized it's probably been going on for quite some time. In fact, I think the practice most likely began with the disciples themselves.
Think about it. These twelve ordinary men, who traipsed all over the countryside with Jesus, were constantly witnessing the Lord healing and preaching, comforting and aiding. For all the lack of creature comforts out there on the road, following Jesus as one of the inner circle would have held great appeal. And I'm sure that every now and then they would get lulled into complacency.
They'd have a few days of relative ease and good companionship amongst themselves and the masses that sought out Jesus for his many gifts, they'd get invited by a local high ranking Pharisee to a nice house for dinner- which is where we find Jesus in today's story- and just as they were beginning to relax into the soft cushions around the table full of delicacies and think to themselves that following Jesus around actually had some nice perks, their fearless leader would look around the room, size up the occupants, and say something like, "let me tell you a story."
I can just picture Peter, hand aloft, just about to eat some nice juicy grapes, or John about to tear into some warm fresh baked bread, or James taking a sip of fine wine, and then, hearing the parable begin somewhere across the room, muttering under their breath, "Oh Jesus. Here we go again."
So as the disciples are gingerly placing their food back on the table, backing away, and searching frantically for an exit, Jesus begins to tell a parable designed to humble those around him. And at first glance, like most parables, it seems odd and counter-intuitive. He says to those assembled:
"When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, 'Give this person your place,' and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, 'Friend, move up higher'; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
You have to love Jesus. Not only is he openly insulting all those people who have already chosen their place at the table, he's doing so with a parable that doesn't make any sense. Now I will be the first to admit that humility is not a virtue I understand overmuch, but what Jesus is describing here seems to be anything but a recipe for true humility. In fact, right on the surface it reads to me as a guide for how to get ahead in life by pretending to be humble. And that's just plain disturbing.
A simple-minded person would hear these words and think, "Ah, do good, get ahead. Humble yourself for a limited amount of time so you can be exalted over others for the rest of time. Sounds like a good deal." But the Pharisees were not simple-minded people, and neither, I hope, are we.
This parable, like so many others, is meant to be quite disturbing. We know better than to equate true humility with the act of humbling ourselves outwardly, especially if we do so with the express hope of being promoted later. We know that simply acting out of fear and taking a lower seat so that we will not be shamed if someone better comes along, is not an act of real humility. The pretense of humility is not humility at all.
So what is going on? What is Jesus up to? Well, I think this is not so much a parable about what humility is, as it is a parable about how we can make room in ourselves for humility to come about. You see, humility is one of those strange virtues that is very hard to actively put into practice.
You can't really work at being humble, strive for humility, or actively cultivate a humble spirit. It's not something you can control. It is not something you can determine to become so much as it is something, by the grace of God, that comes upon you. Frank Lloyd Wright describes the process with words that make me shudder, "A shadow falls;" he says, "I feel coming on me a strange disease, humility."
Within this parable Jesus is not showing us how to be humble. He is showing us how we can open ourselves to the Lord in order that we might be granted humility. It is a very subtle distinction. Of all the virtues, this is the one you will be least likely to master on your own. Every last shred of this is going to come straight from God. Humility may make us uncomfortable, as a concept and as a reality within our own experience, but I do believe it is a gift and a blessing, and I want to focus on how we can open ourselves up to receive it.
Turning back to the parable, we can see that the choices we face as we approach life are actually very much like the choices a wedding guest faces as she approaches a banqueting table. We can approach each event or situation looking for what we can get out of it for ourselves, or by looking for what we can give to it for the sake of others.
If we go in full of pure self-love, we will always strive for the best place, the highest place, the place that makes us feel important, worthy, and respected, or the place from which we can see that we will reap the most advantage, which may mean taking the lower seat with the hope of advancement. Now I want to be very careful here and point out that respect, worthiness, importance, these are not bad things in and of themselves.
They are as good or bad as our intentions make them. But I can tell you that if we strive after such things for our own sake, rather than for the sake of those we might help from our high position, we put an awful lot of pressure on our selves that isn't going to lead us to any place good. If, like a guest at the wedding feast, we place ourselves at the head of the table, the only place we have left to go is down. And, just as we chose our place by ourselves alone, for ourselves alone, we will also go down by ourselves, all alone.
Because when we live life for ourselves first and foremost, we are all we have to work with. We must constantly work to keep up with our own sense of self-importance. Which is a full time job, and one that, for all its advantages, promises very little job security.
When we act from our self for our self, we find our self in a very lonely and threatening place, a hellish place, a place that requires constant energy and effort on our part to see that the self is always on top, getting the best deal, getting the recognition it deserves, accomplishing as much as we can from our own resources and reaping the benefits that we have rightfully earned. It may sound like a fair deal but it's exhausting mentally, spiritually and physically. And this is not how it has to be.
In the spiritual sense, according to Swedenborgian principles of correspondence, this parable is actually a story about faith and love, the mind and the heart. When we first come to the table, which represents life, it is with our mind or ego. We tend to approach life initially with our rational faculties. Given any situation we survey, we size up, and we look for the best way to negotiate our surroundings to the best advantage. Our mind is the first guest at the table of life and it's going to look out for itself first.
What Jesus is saying, at least according to Swedenborg, is tell your mind that is so full of itself, to take a lower seat and make way for love, love which is always looking first to the Lord and then to the needs of others. Make way for Love to sit in its rightful place at the banqueting table. Love is the more honorable guest. Love that would without hesitation offer all the higher seats, is the guest that must be honored within us all if we are ever going to be able to truly honor one another.
When we approach life as Jesus would have us do, not simply concerned with our own reputation and self-advancement, but conscious of others and of the Lord for their sake as much as for our own, something incredible happens.
A shift takes place. We are no longer the center of our own universe, and it is not only a relief to the senses, it is an act that brings us in line with reality. We come to see our place in the greater scheme of things and it may not be quite as high or all-important as we had hoped, but it certainly isn't low. We are right where we ought to be, sitting side by side each other rather than over and above one another. We have found our way to heaven, were you don't have to expend energy looking out for yourself because everyone else is looking out for you, and we are now open to the gift of humility.
When we let heavenly love rule rather than self-love, we make a space within ourselves for humility to take root. Humility is a beautiful gift the Lord grants us when we let our love for one another take the lead. Because "Being humble is not about being put down or trampled (by ourselves or others). It 's not self abasement. It's not being weak and frightened. It's not being a doormat. It is not about being debased or demeaned. Humility is the mutual love that we heard about today in the book of Hebrews.
Humility is the miraculous ability to get outside of your self and truly see yourself in right relation to others with whom you share a common humanity and received grace. Humility is the God-given gift of being able to see ourselves in proper relationship to each other and the Lord" (AHA).
When you have become humble, been granted this gift of humility, your eyes are opened. You see your true place in the scheme of things and you are not threatened or disappointed, you are full of thankfulness. You finally realize this isn't all about me, and that is a good thing.
In his book on Sabbath, Wayne Mueller has a whole chapter on humility. He writes, "(It is good at times) to retreat from the illusion of our own indispensability. We are important in that we are part of something larger. We are part of the family of the earth, members of the body of Christ, part of the dharma and the sangha of the Buddha.
Our power comes not from ourselves, but from the enormousness of which we are a part. True freedom comes when we become as Zen teacher Sazuki Roshi said "nobody special." We do our work not for glory and honor, but simply because we must, because we believe in the value of right action and good labor." (Sabbath, Wayne Mueller, p 175).
Which reminds me of the words of Mother Teresa who said, "We do no great things, only small things with great love." And we know that all love comes first from God.
Wayne Mueller continues: "The word humility, like the word human, comes from humus, or earth. We are most human when we do no great things. (When we realize that) we are not so important; we are simply dust and spirit at best, loving midwives, participants in a process much larger than we. If we are quiet and listen and feel how things move, (rather than forcing life to move for us) perhaps we will be wise enough to put our hands on what waits to be born, and bless it with kindness and care (for the sake of all)" (p 176)
When we approach life with a heart willing to honor others, with a mind that searches creatively to care for those around us, with hands that seek out ways to be of use to the larger good, we are opening ourselves up to the blessing of humility, "the blessing of knowing that we do very little at all by ourselves," and that's not just okay to admit, it's a relief to contemplate (Sabbath, Wayne Mueller,175). And we open ourselves to the blessing of the Lord at work in our lives in a full and wondrous way, which in turn allows us to be blessed and be a blessing to others. Such is the way of heaven and the joy that awaits every human soul touched by a spirit of true humility.
Let us pray. Oh Lord, you who sit high above the heavens, you who created all we see and know, you are a Great and wondrous God, full of glory and honor. And yet, for all your greatness, you stooped down o come and live among us that we might be drawn into the circle of your love for all time. Wrap your loving and merciful arms around us this day. Open our hearts that we might be truly humbled by your spirit and full of love for all creation.
Amen.
Copyright 2004 by Rev. Sarah Buteux
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