Scripture is significant in its silences no less than in the information conveyed. The common run of biographers would have given us a mass of detail about the early years of Christ; the four evangelists are strikingly reticent. We are grateful to Matthew and Luke for their nativity narratives with their exquisite mixture of romance and pathos. The purpose of these records is not, however, to purvey trivialities but to demonstrate that Jesus is the Son of God and the promised Messiah of Israel. Matthew leaves Christ as a young child in Nazareth; in his gospel our Lord next appears as a fully developed man on the banks of Jordan.
Luke alone affords us a glimpse of the growing child. He gives us the first record of any words spoken by Christ: “How is it that ye sought me? wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?” Thus in his reply to the anxious Joseph and Mary he reveals his early preoccupation with heavenly things. Then follows one of those graphic summaries so characteristic of Luke’s writings: “And he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them: but his mother kept all these sayings in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man”. “… And was subject unto them”; able at the age of twelve to confound the wise of Jerusalem with his insight, he nevertheless submitted to parental control and guidance. He is not a difficult child but already displays the humility which later will make possible the unique flowering of heavenly grace in his life.
We next catch sight of Christ upon the banks of Jordan, and we turn to Matthew’s account for the second recorded utterance of Christ: “Suffer it to be so now, for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness”. It is worth noting that these are the very first words spoken by Christ to be encountered in the New Testament. If we recognize any design in Scripture, they must be important and invite our special attention. They reveal the same humility in Christ which we have already detected in him as a lad of twelve. John the Baptist is a mere herald. When he encounters Christ, he is conscious of the moral superiority of the other: “I have need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me?” John wants to reverse the rôles, but Christ insists. Why? John may be a mere herald but his words are binding; the call is not his own: his baptism is from heaven. There is great propriety in this public submission on Christ’s part to John’s summons; he thus recognizes the sovereignty of the Father’s word. This word has been communicated, in a variety of modes, by prophets all inferior to Christ, but God has spoken through them. Their message must accordingly become the guide of Christ’s life.
Humility, submission, obedience; the surrender of self to God; these are the qualities we note in Christ at the beginning of his ministry. He comes to do God’s will, for he knows that God has created all things for His pleasure. In Christ’s attitude, and in the tokens of God’s approval, we see a pleasing contrast with the story of Eden. The first Adam had rebelled and been cursed; the second submits and is blessed. So to speak, the garden gate had closed behind Adam. The heavens open for Christ. Henceforward, the emphasis will be on opening. In the power of the Spirit bestowed on him at his baptism Christ was able to open the eyes of the blind, the ears of the deaf and the grave of the dead. His own sepulchre opens because of his holiness. After his resurrection he opens the understanding of his disciples (cp Luke 24:45). Because of his obedience to the cross, he prevails to open the scroll upon which is written the Revelation (cp 5:5). As his disciples we look forward to the time when Christ’s own promise will be fulfilled: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man” (John 1:51). This consummation when the fellowship between earth and heaven, broken by Eden, will be restored, would not be possible but for that initial act of obedience upon the banks of Jordan: “Suffer it to be so now: for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness”.
Must not humility be reckoned as the basic quality in a child of God? Long before the public ministry of Christ, the prophet had said: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings to the meek” (Isa 61:1). Hence it is not surprising to find our Lord opening the Sermon on the Mount by pronouncing blessing on the poor in spirit: “Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 5:3). The meek are mentioned in the third beatitude: “Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth”. Now we cannot hope to explain what is meant by being poor in spirit or meek without using the terms “humble” and “humility”.
From this we can see how important an attribute humility must be. It is essentially realistic, involving as it does the recognition of our true estate before God, of His complete sovereignty, and of our utter dependence upon Him. The humble perceive with Christ that the object of being is not to magnify self but to serve and glorify God: “Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created”. As the lowly soul contemplates the majesty of creation and feels his imagination almost cower before the spectacle, he echoes the words of the psalmist: “What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man that thou visitest him?” Isaiah strove to give his contemporaries a true view of themselves by recalling that before God the nations are as a drop of the bucket, as fine dust settling upon balances in which mountains can be weighed (Isa 40:12–18). It is indeed chastening to reflect that we are microscopic specks on a diminutive orb. Yet in each human heart there is a disposition to reduce the whole vast cosmos to the sphere in which we move and of which we are the undoubted centre. Sanely considered, there is nothing more ludicrous and pathetic than human pride, but there is nothing more common. However, we do well to remember that for the man who swells with pride in this life, there is reserved but one fate: to burst with mortification hereafter.
Those who submit to baptism show at least an initial humility. We have thereby acknowledged our sin; we have bowed to God’s requirements. But our humility must increase, and that is not so easy. As we grow older, for a variety of reasons, we may come to regard ourselves as important people. We may prosper in business or advance in our profession.
We become accustomed to telling others what to do, and that can stimulate pride. It is said of Uzziah that “when he was strong, his heart was lifted up to his destruction”. Some of us may advance in the ecclesial world, a far easier thing than in the wider outside world of fierce and ruthless competition. We may then become followers of Diotrophes who loved to have the preeminence or, like the Pharisees, to have the chief seats. The brotherhood becomes the arena where we parade our prowess, a special snare to the popular speaker. The platform, the printed programme, can exercise a fatal fascination; to see one’s name in print can greatly flatter our ego and it is something of a paradox that even an exhortation on humility could minister to a speaker’s pride.
Enough of the pitfalls; the great men of Scripture show us that it is possible, despite wealth, success, prominence, to grow in humility. As Abraham stood before the angel with the Covenant Name and pleaded for the deliverance of Sodom (how tremendously superior to Lot and the inhabitants of the city would most of us have felt!), he says, “Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but dust and ashes” (Gen 18:27).
The early psalms of David exhibit a strong sense of personal purity. His humility is evident from the start. Hounded from society by the man who owes all to him, his reverence for God and humility before His word reveal themselves in startling fashion. When Saul is delivered into his hand, David’s heart smites him because he has dared even to touch Saul’s robe. The situation repeats itself, but David again holds his hand; he says to Abishai: “Destroy him not: for who can stretch forth his hand against the Lord’s anointed, and be guiltless?” (1 Sam 26:9). Despite all the injustice he endures, David still regards himself as Saul’s servant (v18). Later, when seated upon the throne, David succumbs to the weakness of his nature. In a judiciously chosen parable Nathan lays bare David’s trespass. The king makes no attempt at self-justification but humbly confesses: “I have sinned against the Lord” (2 Sam 12:13). It is clear from Psalm 51 that David was thereafter haunted by a deep sense of guilt and unworthiness: “For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me . . . Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me”.
There are many other instances one could cite. Isaiah receives a vision of the holiness of God. In the agony of his mind he says: “Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isa 6:5). How different the state of Israel would have been had more shared the deep humility of the prophet. Then there is Daniel, a young captive who attained to great distinction in the realm of Babylon. He stands out on the pages of Scripture as a singularly pure child of God. There appears to be no fault recorded of him, yet with complete humility he includes himself among those who have sinned against the God of Israel and encompassed the ruin of the people (see Dan 9).
In the New Testament there are likewise many fine examples of humility. The Baptist, for all his fire and fearlessness, does not hesitate to recognize the superiority of Christ: “I have need to be baptized of thee”. To his disciples who anxiously report the growing fame of Christ, he says: “He must increase, but I must decrease”. John has the right appraisal of the situation: “A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven” (John 3:27). With magnificent logic, Paul makes the same point in writing to the Corinthians, torn by faction and rivalry: “For who maketh thee to differ from another? and what hast thou that thou didst not receive? Now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it?” (1 Cor 4:7). Despite his tremendous zeal and industry, Paul says of himself: “By the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I but the grace of God which was with me” (1 Cor 15:10).
It was Paul’s claim that “we preach not ourselves but Christ Jesus the Lord” (2 Cor 4:5). There is much evidence in the epistles that this was true. Perhaps the most remarkable evidence is furnished by the epistle to the Philippians. The apostle is in prison, probably in Rome. His own activities are necessarily restricted though, for all the restraint of circumstance, he can still say: “But I would have you to understand, brethren, that the things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel; so that my bonds in Christ are manifest in all the palace, and in all other places”. But outside, in the city, amongst the brethren, there is opposition to him: “The one preach Christ of contention, not sincerely, supposing to add affliction to my bonds”. Can we imagine a situation more trying to the spirit of an ardent ambassador for Christ? Paul loses no time in useless protestation or invective but, with sublime humility, writes: “What then? notwithstanding, every way, whether in pretence, or in truth, Christ is preached; and I therein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice”. This humility on his own part gives him authority later in the epistle to enjoin the Philippians to cultivate the humility of the Lord Jesus: “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus”. Then comes the great passage with its reference to the self-emptying of Christ, culminating in the final act of surrender on the cross. As a result of this, Christ has been given the name which is above every name. It would appear from the context that the cross occupies a unique place not merely in human, but in cosmic history. We must await the light of a fuller revelation to see its complete significance. One thing is, however, clear: humble obedience to God is essential. Moreover, it would appear from this, and other passages, that the hierarchy of the kingdom will be determined on a simple principle: the greater our humility now, the greater our exaltation hereafter: “And whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be the servant of all”.
Humility, like all other Christian qualities, needs to be cultivated. We must ask God insistently to grant us the grace to think less of, and about, ourselves. Developing humility can exercise a softening influence, restraining the tongue of the eloquent, checking the boasting of the vainglorious, bridling the anger of the quick tempered, subduing the resentment of the sensitive, sweetening the judgments of the uncharitable. With growth in humility, we come increasingly to see ourselves as others see us, and as God sees us, and that has a wonderfully sobering effect.
In one of his better known parables (Matt 25:31–46) Christ indicates one of the qualities essential for acceptance in the day of account. The redeemed are those who have done what was required of them, and yet are not conscious of having done anything. But the rejected are those with a false view of themselves: they have neglected their duty but are totally unaware of their deficiencies. God grant us the humility to be found amongst the redeemed.