Humility and Community: October 1, 2023

 Philippians 2:1-13                                    Year A, Pentecost 18                                     

My last church was situated in a lovely and relatively small city called Hampton. We didn’t have a minor league baseball team, much less a major league team.  We had a team that was made up of college baseball players who were looking for places to play in the summer.  The games were a lot of fun because you were able to get close to the action.  The people in my church were big supporters of the team.  There was one night where the baseball organization made a specific invitation to churches.  We decided to attend and someone finagled me an invitation to throw the first pitch along with another pastor from a different church. 

This was horrifying prospect for me.  I played soccer. The only time I had thrown a baseball was at a dunking booth and that was embarrassing enough.  I practiced a little, but when the time came, I was overcome with anxiety and the ball didn’t make it over the plate.  It was humiliating. So of course I posted the picture on facebook--- of me on the pitcher’s mound with my head in my hands and wrote, “Another opportunity for humility.”  At the time, I perceived any failure as an opportunity to gain more humility…which isn’t entirely wrong…but I will explain later why this experience wasn’t a great example of humility. 

          One of the themes you will find throughout Paul’s writings is the importance of community, unity, and humility.  Our reading from Philippians starts with the very beginning of chapter 2, but it’s very much connected to what he said in the first chapter.  There he said, “I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the Gospel.”  He returns to this idea of being in the same mind or of one mind several times in our reading for today. 

It’s natural to assume that Paul is telling everyone that they need to agree with one another and even think the same way.  But the Greek that is translated to “be of the same mind” is tricky to translate.  A more accurate interpretation might be “having a depth of understanding and practical wisdom, to know how to act correctly, even in complicated situations.”  That kind of makes just agreeing with one another sound a bit easier. Wouldn’t it be easier just to agree with someone rather than try to understand them? I have had a lot of practice in trying to understand people who I disagree with and it can be a brutal experience.  Rewarding—but brutal.

What does it mean to be of the same mind if you don’t have the same exact beliefs of others in your Christian community? Paul answers that in the direct yet indirect way he excels at.  “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.”  Regard others as better than yourselves.  Now that sounds a bit much.  It’s one thing to respect others and serve others, but why do we assume everyone has to be better than us?  It sounds more like self-degradation and self-deprecation, which can often lead to insecurity and even self-hatred.  Jesus loves his children.   He doesn’t want any of them hating themselves.  So what does Paul mean? I don’t think he intended to focus on how we feel about ourselves, as much as how we feel about others.  Paul wants us to see ourselves and others as beloved children of God.  Sometimes we are good at that, sometimes not so much. 

I saw a bumper sticker that said, “God loves everyone, but God loves me the best.”  And you know, I think we sometimes think that.  We think there is a tier system and surely we are on the top.  When I am really upset with someone, I try to remember, “God loves them too.”  I say it to myself, but I am not sure I am convincing myself. Because if we truly believe that God loves all  God’s children equally, we wouldn’t be able to look down on people.  That’s humility---it’s not about lowering yourself, but raising up others.

When we are able to truly humble ourselves, then we can live in an authentic community.  We can be of the same mind without agreeing about everything.  Because we can acknowledge, “Ok, we might not agree and I am may be absolutely right…but they are still loved by God and they deserve my respect.”  That is what a true Christian community looks like---always remembering that God loves us all equally.

So what does this have to do with my first pitch?  It was humbling and I remember adoring the people of my church as they cheered while the ball rolled across the plate.   They didn’t care that I threw a horrible pitch. They just appreciated that I tried.  But here is where I failed at humility.  You see…the other pastor, he had clearly played baseball. He had the right clothes and he threw a perfect pitch and I was not happy about that.  Because he was from the huge Baptist Church that didn’t allow women to be ordained.  Now I could have been a good Christian and gone up to him and introduced myself.  I could have invited him to lunch so as to get to know him and find some common ground.  But I didn’t do any of that.  I just muttered under my breath about his fancy pitch and found the people I knew loved me.  Because of my inability to see him as a beloved child of God, I missed a chance at being in a community with a different kind of Christians 

Now in my defense…since you don’t know me and might be thinking I am incredibly petty, I did get to know a lot of pastors and Christians from other denominations in my time in Hampton.  I became friends with pastors who I disagreed with on all kinds of levels, but we all cared about serving  people and bringing God’s love to those people.  We raised one another up and we formed a genuine community.  We formed that community when George Floyd was killed three years ago.  We knew that we could not help a diverse community heal without a diverse group of pastors coming together.  That was one of the times when I really learned how important humility is when forming a community of people with wildly different opinions.  It’s not about thinking less about yourself.  It’s about thinking more of others.

I have been here for less than a week, but I have been blown away by your kindness and hospitality.  You have brought my family food and offered to help unpack boxes. I have also seen how you care for one another through Good Shepherds, Parish Life, and small groups bringing communion to those who are homebound.  While I don’t know you, I am going to take a wild guess and assume you all don’t agree about everything all the time.  That’s ok. That’s actually good.  The church is the one place, the one community where you don’t have to have anything in common except faith or a desire to have faith.  You don’t need to vote for the same people, you don’t need to have the same level of education or the same amount of money.  You might not have anything in common with the person behind you.  You don’t even have to all like the Eagles!

That makes us unique and exquisite.  It also makes it hard to stay in community and you can tell from Paul’s letters, it was hard for the early Christian community as well.  But it’s worth it.  If we can just try to see others as God’s see them, then we will discover what humility really means.  It’s putting the needs of others above our needs.  I know you already have a good community, but my hope for my time with you, is that we will build an even more diverse community that is imbued with the Holy Spirit….a place where we can really know one another.  That is what we all crave, being known and loved for who we are. We can do that together, with humility and love.

 

 

Being Good Enough: May 29th, 2016

Year C, Pentecost 2                                                                   
Luke 7:1-10                                                                         

            Before I begin, I am going to provide a little explanation, because I am about to unload some Episcopal jargon on you.  You will note in our Prayer Book that we have two rites.  We essentially have two different versions of the words that we use in the service (our liturgy).  Rite 1 is similar to the 1928 prayer book. Some of you will remember the 1928 prayer book with great fondness, some of you do not know that our prayer book has a date.  The Rite 1 language sounds a little more old fashioned.  It is more penitential, meaning it talks about sin and our need to be forgiven.  We use that rite during Lent and Advent.  Rite 2 is what we use the rest of the time.  I did not grow up with the 1928 prayer book. I became an Episcopalian long after the 1979 prayer book became standard.  Nor did I grow up using the Rite 1 liturgy.  I grew up with the Roman Catholic liturgy, which is pretty similar to our liturgy. 

While I did not grow up with the Rite 1 language, I find myself longing for it at times, especially one prayer in particular that was left out of Rite 2.  It is called the Prayer of Humble Access.  We say it right before we receive the Eucharist.  It starts like this, “We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies.  We are not worthy so much as to gather the crumbs under thy table.”  I think one of the things that appeals to me about this prayer is that it reminds me of one of my favorite prayers in the Catholic Church.  “Lord we are not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and we shall be healed.” [1]

            Both of these prayers reference parts of today’s Gospel story.  In today’s Gospel, we hear a story of a centurion who asks for Jesus’ help with his sick servant.  A centurion is a Roman soldier.  This meant that he was not Jewish.  He was a Gentile.  The Jews and the Gentiles did not get along most of the time.  A Jew could not enter the home of a Gentile nor could a Jew welcome a Gentile into his home. Not only was this man a Gentile, he was a Roman soldier.  He was a member of the army that was oppressing the Jewish people.  It was odd that he was even requesting the assistance of a Jew.  What is even stranger is that he was appealing to his Jewish acquaintances to petition this other Jew.  He was a high ranking official.  He could have just sent some soldiers and had Jesus brought to him.   That is not what he did.

            Already we know that the centurion was unique.  The Jews proclaimed that he was “worthy of having you do this for him.”  According to the Jewish elders, he was worthy not only of Jesus’ presence, but his assistance.   He had been a friend to the Jewish people.  He had even built them a synagogue.  For those reasons, the Jewish elders proclaimed him worthy.  We do not know whether it was the recommendation of the Jewish elders or simply the request of the centurion, but Jesus did not hesitate.  He immediately went to this man’s home.  However,  before Jesus arrived at his home, the centurion sent a message saying, “Lord do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the word and my servant will be healed.”  This statement left Jesus amazed.  Jesus was amazed. 

Often times we hear about people being amazed in the Bible.  However, it is usually people being amazed by Jesus…not the other way around. The centurion’s words by themselves don’t seem that amazing.  They were respectful.  They were humble.  But come on- that seems appropriate given that he was speaking to the Son of God and asking for a miracle. 

            I have often heard people express that they are uncomfortable with some of the language of our Rite 1 liturgy, particularly the Prayer of Humble Access.  The statement, “We are not worthy….” brings up all kinds of negative feelings.  It might remind us of our own insecurities.  It might remind us of a Christian somewhere sometime who made us feel bad about ourselves.  Surely, God loves us all unconditionally.  If so why are we using this kind of language?  Why do we have to feel bad about ourselves in order to receive the Eucharist? 

            Here’s the thing.  We aren’t worthy.  By ourselves, without the grace of God, we aren’t worthy.   No one likes to hear that. You are all probably regretting telling me that you missed me the last couple of months if this is what I am going to tell you.  But it’s not about feeling bad about ourselves.  Much like the centurion- it’s about approaching God with humility.  It’s about asking for things instead of expecting them. 

            One of the others words for worthy is sufficient, or enough.  The centurion was admitting to Jesus that he wasn’t quite sufficient to receive Jesus into his home.  This is something that really resonates with me, the idea of not being enough.  I struggle with that often and I don’t think I am the only person who does.   That notion of feeling as though we are not good enough can have a devastating effect on our soul. We are constantly trying to please others and please ourselves.  We have to be better than others.  We have to be better than we were the day before. As a result we are constantly disappointed that we aren’t good enough.  We could be so much more content and at peace if we stopped trying to be enough.       

            Now you might be thinking, hey you just told us we are not worthy, what’s the deal?  Here it is. What if we could accept the fact that we are not quite good enough, but that recognizing our unworthiness amazes God?  Let me say that again. What if we could accept the fact that we are not quite good enough, but that recognizing our unworthiness not only pleases God, but amazes God?  We can amaze God not by being good enough, not by being worthy, but simply by displaying humility and admitting that we need God.  Like the centurion we can admit that God has the power to make up for whatever we lack. We are not sufficient without Jesus.  But with Jesus, we are more than enough. 

            Here’s the other amazing thing.  We pray the Prayer of Humble Access right before we receive the body and blood of Christ.  Immediately after we admit that we are not worthy, we kneel at the rail and receive the body and blood of Jesus.  We never say that prayer and skip communion.  Because when we approach Christ with humility, when we ask for his presence in our lives…he always says yes.  Saying that we are not worthy is not about beating ourselves up.  It’s about freeing ourselves so that we can truly appreciate the gift that God has for us.  It creates space in our heart and our souls to receive Jesus.   

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[1] The Roman Catholic Church has changed this portion to better reflect the text.  I use this text as that was what I grew up with.

Year B, Maundy Thursday April 2, 2015

Humiliation Galore

John 13:1-17, 31b-35                                                             

            I was reading a book recently and the author (Richard Rohr) said that he prays to God for one humiliation every day.  I enjoyed most of the book and it   was not an easy book to enjoy. It was about suffering and what we can learn from suffering.  When I got to the part about humiliation, I started to struggle with the book a little more.  I understand that humility is a wonderful trait to have and it is certainly one that is important to have as Christians, but humiliation?  The author’s perspective was that humiliation is an opportunity to learn something about who we are, deep down underneath it all—underneath the veneer that we hope other people will see.  The way that we respond to humiliation can say a lot about who we are.  We can respond by getting angry and lashing out at people.  We can shut down and give up. Or we can take a step back and ask ourselves why that thing humiliated us and what it means for us as followers of Christ. 

            On my first Christmas as a deacon, I read the Gospel for the first time.  I had practiced…a lot.  I said the word Quirinius (Governor of Syria) about 100 times.  I was ready.  But for some reason I could not get my microphone to work.  I spoke as loud as I could but I was convinced that no one heard me, which meant no one heard the Gospel.  I was sure I had ruined Christmas and the rector would hold this against me forever.  I know it does not sound humiliating, but it was for me. That was all I could think of for the rest of the service.  As you can imagine, it turned out fine.  I was loud enough and Christmas was not ruined. 

            In some ways, knowing that it was not a big deal hurt my pride more.  My big moment and it did not make a difference to anyone whether the mic was on or not.  In the end, it was an important lesson for me as an ordained person.  It reminded me that it is not about the person speaking; it is about the words and who those words come from.  I could give you any number of examples of little humiliations that I have learned from…but definitely not one a day.  That seems extreme.

            When we talk about Jesus, especially in the washing of the feet, we talk about humility.  We don’t normally talk about humiliation, perhaps because that word has such negative connotations.   He was and is the most powerful entity in the world and he constantly had to defend himself and explain his motivation and his actions.  He had to let other people tell him what to do.  He let his own disciples deny, betray and abandon him.  For most important and powerful people, any one of those things would be a huge blow to their ego.  It did not seem to faze Jesus, at least not in terms of his pride.  In fact, it was as if he welcomed these opportunities for humiliation.  For him, they were not humiliations. They were opportunities to display love, a love that was sacrificial, a love that was not about what he would receive in return. 

            I have often pondered what the difference between humility and humiliation is.  Even when you look it up, you get different interpretations from different sources.  Most people would say that humility is a good thing while humiliation is almost entirely bad. What I find interesting, is that they have the same Latin root. The meanings are not really that different.

            The Gospel of John is unique in many ways.  In the scene describing the Last Supper, Jesus does not take bread and tell the disciples that this is his body.  He does not take the wine and tell them that this is his blood.  Instead, he used an entirely different representation of love. He took off his outer robe and tied a towel around his waist.  Then he washed his disciple’s feet.  This in and of itself, is humiliating enough.  Servants were the ones who were supposed to wash feet.  But here he was, God in human form, washing the feet of his disciples.  What made it worse was that he was washing the feet of Peter who he knew would deny him.  He was washing the feet of Judas who would betray him in a matter of minutes.  He knew exactly what was going to happen.  He knew that all of these people would turn their backs on him.  He chose to wash their feet.  Was that humility or humiliation?  In retrospect it was an act of humility.  Yet most people, had they been in that time and place and known the circumstances, would have perceived it as humiliation.  What kind of God kneels before peasants and washes their grimy feet? It was also humiliating for the disciples.  This was a man who they respected and admired and now he was touching their feet.  In doing so, it was as if he was seeing through the veneer.  He saw the unclean parts of their soul.  I know this discomfort can’t be that hard to imagine for those of you here tonight.  Very few people come up to have their feet washed.  It’s embarrassing. It’s uncomfortable. I get it.

            Yet for Jesus, this was such an important act, that he asked his disciples to wash one another’s feet.  “For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.  Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them.  If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.”  This is what Jesus told his disciples.  He did not ask them to drink wine and eat bread.  He asked them to wash one another’s feet.  It was not enough to understand the idea of love or humility.  “…you are blessed if you do them.”

            What liturgy allows us to do is to experience parts of our faith in a more tangible way.  We don’t just say things.  We do them.  So you can ponder humility, humiliation and love, or you can wash someone’s feet or have your own feet washed.  And if you are just not going to do it, think of another way you can humiliate yourself in the next 24 hours.  Don’t just think about it.  Do it.  Then learn from that humiliation and remember that our Lord Jesus Christ died in one of the most humiliating ways a person could die. Most other things seem pretty small in comparison.