Humbled and Exalted  

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted”  (Luke 14:11)

What’s one sure way of dislocating your shoulder?  Patting yourself on the back.

A rider on horseback, many years ago, came across a squad of soldiers who were trying to move a heavy piece of timber.  The rider noticed a well-dressed corporal standing by, giving lordly commands to “heave.”  But the piece of timber was a trifle too heavy for the squad.

“Why don’t you help them?” asked the quiet man on the horse, addressing the important corporal.
“Me? Why, I’m a corporal, sir!”

Dismounting, the stranger carefully took his place with the soldiers.  He smiled at them and said, “now, all together, boys – heave!”  The big piece of timber slid into place.  The stranger silently mounted his horse and then addressed the corporal.

“The next time you have a piece of timber for your men to handle, corporal, send for the commander-in-chief.”

It was then that the corporal and his men first realized that the helpful stranger was none other than George Washington.

The corporal, full of himself, brought down a few pegs by America’s first president, experienced what Jesus warns us about in today’s gospel parable -- For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.

In this parable Jesus addresses people invited to a wedding banquet who were choosing places of honor for themselves at the table, arguing over, and perhaps even, like kids playing musical chairs, scrambling for, the “best” seats.  What’s his advice to them?   Don’t misjudge your social status by making an inappropriate seating choice.  The host may have invited someone more distinguished than you, in which case you’ll be asked to move to the lowest place.   To avoid being embarrassed, judge yourself worthy instead of the lowest place, then if a higher place is available, you will be asked to move up.  In this, Jesus, of course, is doing much more than teaching a lesson on etiquette, he’s extolling the virtue of humility.

A famous conductor was once asked which instrument he considered the most difficult to play.  His reply “second fiddle.” How true, especially in our society which prizes individualism so highly.  You’ll no doubt find it hard to believe, for example, that as humble as I am, it’s still mighty difficult for me to play second fiddle to Deacon Mike!

In stark contrast to our natural tendency toward self-centeredness, Jesus epitomizes selflessness.  Why?  Because excessive love of self diminishes our capacity to love others.  The bigger the head, you see, the smaller the heart.  And to be his disciple requires a big heart indeed. That’s why for him it’s the lowly who rank highest in the kingdom, not the privileged.   And why in the Beatitudes, it’s the meek who will inherit the earth, not the haughty.   Rather than touting his own greatness, Jesus exemplifies humility.  By kneeling down and washing his disciples’ feet, he demonstrates that you and I, like him, are meant to serve, not to be served.

What’s humility? It’s not groveling or acting like a doormat. It’s having God’s perspective on who we are and where we fit in the divine scheme of things.  It’s realizing that all we have – our lives, talents, achievements -- are gifts intended, not for self-aggrandizement, but to be shared generously in community.  In short, it’s living a life focused on “we” rather than “me.”   Easy to do?   Not by a long shot!  No less challenging today than in first century Judea, humility still requires conversion -- a radical change of heart, mind and lifestyle.  Then as now, what society values -- wealth, status, power, beauty -- isn’t what God values.

What’s the greatest stumbling block to humility?  Pride, of course.  Scripture is full of warnings against pride.  But, just think what we could accomplish if together we checked our pride at the door and spent less time taking credit and more time deserving it; if we spent less time ducking responsibility and more time welcoming it; if we spent less time on our soapboxes and more time on our knees.

One of my favorite scriptural passages is Micah 6:8: “For what does the Lord require of you?  To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” 

To act with justice keeps our feet firmly planted in the real world rather than getting bogged down in theological abstractions or secular distractions that actually ignore oppression and injustice.  To love mercy keeps us in touch with the grace of a faithful God who answers prayers and works miracles through the activities of ordinary people like you and me.   And to walk humbly with God keeps us dependent on God’s resources rather than human ones.

Most of us will never do great things, but we can all do small things in a great way.  A skill taken for granted like being a good listener, for example, might fill an indispensable need for someone, perhaps having a far greater effect that we could ever imagine. You and I can have a positive impact on every person we meet to an extent far beyond our knowing.  A simple act of kindness might even save a life. 

Who’s the “more distinguished guest” in today’s parable?  The poor, sick, or suffering… unlikely distinctions indeed by worldly standards.  But that explains why in God’s eyes you never stand so tall as when you stoop down to help someone in need.  Humility is a requirement of discipleship.  Humbling experiences, like the one the corporal had in front of his men, remind us when we forget.   Pray for humility, but, when you think you got it… you lost it.

 Anthony J. Sciolino
Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29
Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a
Luke 14:1, 7-14. 
22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time. 
September 2, 2007.  (Cycle C)