CENTRAL PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
April 1, 2007, Palm Sunday
“Following in the Footsteps of Humility” – Dr. Tom Boone
Philippians 2:5-11; Luke 19:28-40

If anyone was surprised by the manner in which Jesus entered Jerusalem, as a humble king, then he or she didn’t really know him. Humble people are consistent about one thing: they have no preoccupation with pretension.

Maybe you’ve met them. Their lives are a contrast. They choose simplicity over abundance, even if they’re of great wealth. They put others first no matter what the personal cost is or despite their own place of honor. They’re the ones that will be as warm with the needy as they are with the donors, who will live in a squabble not consider the injustice of their situation it if it’s what they have to do. With great humility comes a quiet acceptance of others for where they’re at and a compassion for them even if they’re not pleasant to be with.

In Luke’s gospel by the time Jesus entered Jerusalem there were at least two women who understood what Jesus was all about and why his humble presentation in Jerusalem made complete sense. In Luke 7 we hear a special account of how Jesus showed compassion on a woman whose son had died. The mourners didn’t cause him to stop. Nor did the large crowd, or even the body of the dead man on the stretcher. It was the woman--the look on her face and the redness in her eyes. He didn’t have to stop. He was, as Paul described, the Lord of the Universe, and every knee should bow to him. Yet, something in him couldn’t pass by this one woman and her dire despair over her only son who had died. He was her only guarantee for support during her old age. He was her means of having representation in a world hostile toward the powerless. So he sprung to action, not because he felt sorry for her or because he wanted to show people his true power, but he raised the boy from the dead because in his humility he identified with her own humble state. Truly humble people identify with the pain of others.

Then take the sliver of Christ’s life we find in Luke 8, where a woman humbled by her physical condition touches Jesus’ garment for healing. By the time this woman came to Jesus, she had nothing left. The doctors had taken her last dime. The diagnosis had stolen her last hope. And the hemorrhage had robbed her of her last drop of energy. She had no more money, no more friends, and no more options. With the end of her rope in one hand and a wing and a prayer in her heart, she shoved her way through the crowd and touched Jesus’ robe. It didn’t matter to Jesus one little bit that she chose Jesus as her last resort, he was simply glad that she chose him at all. He could’ve called her to the mat and asked her why she didn’t have the nerve to ask him for healing, but he didn’t. Jesus’ humility compelled him to make her faith the center of attention for a crowd who couldn’t compete with her action.

“Had Jesus ignored them,” Max Lucado writes, “who’d have noticed?” (God Came Near, 57-59). Alone in their winters of life, these two women meant nothing to a society that was rushing by them. Had he walked silently by them consumed with the admiration of crowds, or looking to make a bigger name for himself, no one else would’ve cared. These two women would’ve made little or no difference to the outcome of his life, but what he could for them would change them forever. Jesus allowed their needs to interrupt his busy day; his humility saw no other option.

Maybe we can relate to the temptation not to be humble. That person we pass by on our way to work who asks for coin won’t affect our careers positively so we’re tempted to think why bother to stop and stoop to talk especially when we have important things to do. That inconvenient presence distracting us from what we need to do can be so annoying, and time is a precious thing when life is so short as it is. When life becomes complex for us, overwhelming us with its strain for no fault of our own, how tempting is it to put our pain before the pain of others and stop listening?

Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a colt and in so doing made a statement for the world to hear. He could’ve chosen a horse, and people would’ve given him one. People were going to celebrate Jesus’ arrival as their greatly anticipated national messiah, but this wasn’t going to change his humble nature. Some people accepted Christ, others lauded him. Still others despised him, but the way people responded to Jesus didn’t change who he was. There was only one way for Jesus to ride into Jerusalem, and that was as God who humbly had become man.

Jesus’ humility, however, did not compromise his authority. He rode in as King. If no one had hailed his arrival then even stones would have taken up temporary voices to proclaim it. People set Jesus on the colt, as they would do for a King. They placed garments on the road for the colt to trod on, as they would for a King. Jesus may have been humble, but he was King let there be no doubt about it.

Humility and power: two traits that the world says do not cohabitate well, but since when are we supposed to take the world’s opinion over God’s decree? Jesus knew what the world has yet to figure out: the source for true power is humility. That’s the message behind the verses Paul placed in Philippians. “He humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death,” Paul asserts, but then notice what he says next. “Therefore, God also highly exalted him…so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend in heaven and on earth and under the earth.” Did you get the point? Jesus’ humility was the source of his authority.

So often we think of power in secular terms. Power derives from money, birthright, diplomatic skill, and a variety of other self-centered notions that we have as humans. As Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote, “Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control–these three alone lead to power.” Another famous quotation you may know comes from the founder of Chinese Taoism, “He who controls others may be powerful, but he who has mastered himself is mightier still.” Power, as modern psychology tempts us to think, stems from the degree to which one has self-understanding. But this is no new notion. Gnothi Seauton, “Know Thyself,” proclaimed ancient Greek oracles, “and you will be able to fathom the mysteries of all divine things.”

Against all these aphorisms stands Jesus, riding humbly on a colt into the great city Jerusalem. Against all notions of power, both historical and modern, stoops Jesus from his heavenly throne, dawning human form, and then willingly begins the march that led to his excruciating and humiliating death. In the Gospel of John, Jesus says “Whoever serves me must follow me” (Jn. 12:26). So, I ask you, which way will you choose to follow?

It’s not an easy choice, is it? Maybe it gets physically easier as we get along in our years and the body starts humbling us whether we like it or not. But what about what’s inside of us? In my years as a pastor I’ve seen hardened wills in weakened bodies because old ways die hard and change can force us to deal with our fears. I’ve seen pride in a teenager and one who’s memory of adolescence is as a wisp of thin air. I’ve lost count of the number of books and sermons that deal with humility. If we were to examine ourselves at the end of a day I wonder how many times we’d be able to jot down words thought or words spoken that we said not from a spirit of humility, but of pride? Humility, as much as we know about it, is a difficult manner of living.

True humility is a gift from God. The lack of humility, on the other hand, is a favorite charm of the Enemy. When we’re not humble division comes easy because we lose sight of our true identity and stay dependent on things other than God. Humility is one of those aspects of being a follower of Christ that we need to continually hand over to God because it’s not an easy lifestyle to lead.

For example, its difficult not to think that we’ve got it right and others have it wrong when what we’re dealing with is as emotional and central to our lives as faith, isn’t it? You feel deeply about your faith and the way you practice it through your church home. You’re invested into this church’s history; you’ve contributed to that history through sweat, tears, money, and time; you’ve built something here, so when you see those things ripped away it’s difficult not to be hurt. I’ve been listening to your stories and I’m not near done yet. I’ve appreciated hearing about the glory days and the tragic pummeling you’ve taken as people have left a once full church. I hear your hurt in those stories and it makes me want to cry: I say this not only to you, but to those who attend the 9 AM service, also.

If I could speak clearly through the hurt for a moment, I’d want to remind you about a couple of things. First, who you are at your core hasn’t changed one bit, and second neither has your ability to be a healthy congregation. Who are you? You’re children of God, each of you agree about that. You each agree that the church is the living expression of Jesus Christ to the world and it has been placed in your charge to keep the church going. You agree with each other, although you use different language to express it, that worship is at your core, scripture and the creedal tradition serve as pillars of this church, mission is not a suggestion but a commission, and that education is essential. Sounds to me like you’ve got the basic elements of a church community!

But something is holding you back from experiencing fullness of community as Christians at Central? I’ve not figured that out yet, but I’d like for you to consider the point of today’s message as a way to begin emerging from the conundrum. There’s hurt on all sides, but I don’t hear voices of resignation, nor do I hear the cruel voices of judgment. I hear pain, and along with pain comes the need to be humble with each other. In our humility, we find the source of power. And once you’ve tapped into the power of God, that’s when you’ll shine. Putting it into spiritual terms, if you follow Christ down the path of humility you’ll never be conquered. Its when we allow pride in that God may let us experience how incapable we are without Him at the helm.

Your story is no different than any that God’s people have had to learn. Your’s is the story of David who was king of Israel only because he had God on his side. Your’s is the story of Gideon who conquered 10,000 warriors with only 300 men not by his skill as a leader but because he leaned on God. Your’s is the story of Mary whom Jesus lifted out of the ashes of society not because she deserved it but because she humbly accepted his hand. Your’s is the story of countless children of God whose humility was the source of their greatness.

To you belongs an honorable history, but that history will not sustain you. To you belongs a mighty building, but this building will not keep you. To you belongs a tradition of taking a stand against injustice, but that tradition is not going to ferment into growth today. Jesus rode on a colt through Jerusalem as a stark reminder to us that his power rested in God alone. Your power rests on following Christ humbly and regarding each other with humility, because you cannot rebuild this church on your own.

So, as we ponder the events of Jesus’ last week--today, on Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday--let’s consider the spirit in which he faced them. Let’s never judge Jesus as weak, or defeated, and let’s not view ourselves that way. Let’s not view Jesus as overpowered or overwhelmed by the Enemy, and let’s not view ourselves that way. Jesus was none of these, but he was humble, and he invites us to follow him. Amen.