P.O. Box 53055    
Los Angeles, CA 90053   

WE ARE NOT WORTHY!

Have you ever heard someone described as “humble – and proud of it”? It’s the kind of spiritual oxymoron you find right up there with the famous prayer, “Lord, please give me patience . . . and I want it right now!”

Probably the quintessential man of humility in literature would have to be the character “Uriah Heep,” in Charles Dickens’ great story, David Copperfield. If you’ve read the lengthy masterpiece, you recall that the hero of the tale has agreed to have tea with Mr. Heep and his aging mother. But the self-effacing man scrapes and demurs:

“But I didn’t expect you to keep [the appointment], Master Copperfield, we’re so very ‘umble.”

That’s the trademark, the missing “h” in humble. And for page after page, this writhing little man keeps insisting that he and his mommy have absolutely no pride whatsoever.

“[If] it really isn’t our ‘umbleness that prevents you, will you come this evening?” he begs. “But if it IS our ‘umbleness, I hope you won’t mind owning to it, Master Copperfield; for we are well aware of our condition.” A bit later he adds: “I shouldn’t have deemed it at all proud if you had thought US too ‘umble for you. Because we are so very ‘umble.”

A page or so later, with many missing “h’s” in the text by now, David offers to teach the poor Mr. Heep some Latin. “Oh, no,” he groans. Never never never.

“I am greatly obliged,” the oily man says, almost kissing his master’s feet, “and I should like it of all things, I assure you; but I am far too ‘umble. There are people enough to tread upon me in my lowly state, without my doing outrage to their feelings by possessing learning. Learning ain’t for me. A person like myself had better not aspire. If he is to get on in life, he must get on ‘umbly, Master Copperfield!”

A block later, he introduces David C. to his ‘umble dwelling, and when they enter, young Mr. Copperfield finds that the mother in the story is missing the “H’s” out of her laptop even more than her groveling boy.

“‘Umble we are, ‘umble we have been, ‘umble we shall ever be,” she says, almost pressing her face to the ‘umble ground before him.

Well, friend, that’s a lowly tale from the long ago. If you’re looking for a more current example, maybe you remember Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar in the great cinematic classic, Wayne’s World, groveling low before rock star Alice Cooper, and crying out in unison: “We are not worthy! We are not worthy!” Same verse, just a different tune.

Is this what God is calling His subjects to? When the Bible says, “Pride goeth before a fall,” should we go ahead and fall on our faces ahead of time, proclaiming our nothingness to anyone who will listen?

In the Old Testament book of Numbers, it’s pointed out that Moses had the gift of humility. In fact, here’s the exact transcript:

“Now Moses was a very Humble man” – we’ll get that “H” back in there where it belongs – “more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth.”

Now, you may be thinking: “Wait a minute, didn’t Moses himself write the book of Numbers? Is he describing himself here?” That’s a bit “Uriah Heep-ish” to describe yourself as being so humble and low. Good point, and the New International Version text notes suggest the following about that line:

“Perhaps a later addition to the text, alerting the reader to the great unfairness of the charge of arrogance against Moses.”

If you backtrack and read the context, we find that big brother Aaron and big sister Miriam have just accused Moses of trying to run everything himself, which explains the reference to possible arrogance. But my point is this: Moses was a great leader who successfully led two million Israelites out of Egypt. A recent e-mail going around on the Internet tried to explain logistically how much food, how much drinking water, how much organizational acumen it would take to keep a group of two million people safely marching through a wilderness, going through a Red Sea, etc. It was a monumental achievement, and even Moses could look into his own rear view mirror and say, “This is huge. I’m gettin’ it done, and this is huge.” He knew his own track record, his prowess, his organizational genius . . . and yet was described in God’s own Word as humble. So humble doesn’t necessarily mean “bereft of talent.” What exactly are we finding, then, in heaven’s blueprint of humility?

We’ve returned to one theme over and over, and here in our Friday visit is yet another Bible verse to help us understand what God wants for us. The Apostle Paul gives us this one, and it’s found in the book of Philippians. He writes candidly about some of the “resumé” listings that a man might be proud of: a man of the church, a Pharisee, part of the “chosen people,” circumcised on the eighth day, etc. But then this:

“I once thought all these things were so very important, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the priceless gain of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage.”

And the crux of it all is this: the humble person doesn’t think he’s useless or lowly or nothing. On the contrary, he or she knows their true value – but only because that value comes from being redeemed by Jesus and being the friend of Jesus. And Paul is employing his trademark of hyperbole and a bit of exaggeration here. No, he doesn’t “throw out” his Jewishness, his resumé, his learning. He confesses in another epistle that there are many advantages to being part of God’s chosen people. But his worth as a person is not in the temple courtyard; instead, it’s over at a hill called Golgotha.

We’ve been going over to a passage in C. S. Lewis’ wonderful book, Mere Christianity, where he talks about how Pride is the great sin, the “essential vice.” It is, he suggests, a stubborn refusal to let God be the God above, and to acquiesce to our place as His subjects, His children, His redeemed trophies. Whenever we want to feel good about ourselves because we are this thing or that, or because we own these items, or have achieved certain things, then we are falling into the pit of Pride.

But how does this connect up with our ‘umble friend, Uriah Heep, who is always describing himself as pond scum, and wiping your boots with his ego? You might be familiar with the word smarmy, which describes a person who is overly flattering or overly ‘umble, groveling and saying over and over, ad nauseum, “Woe is me. I am nothing. Please kick me because I deserve it.” Is that real humility? It’s the furthest thing from it, and here’s the quote:

“Do not imagine,” Lewis writes, “that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people CALL ‘humble’ nowadays: he will NOT be a greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody.” That would be our friend Mr. Uriah Heep right down to the ‘umble shoelaces, wouldn’t it? “Probably all you will think about him,” Lewis continues, “is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a bit envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.”

There are a couple of other killer soundbites from this essay that I want to save for next week, but you know, there’s just this fantastic – but QUIET – picture here of people who are so very comfortable with their place. They may have lots of money or hardly any at all. They might have their face splashed on a lot of walls and book covers, but they don’t seem to care. If it’s there, that’s all right, but you don’t see them looking for it. If you compliment them, they’re gracious about it, but you don’t get the sense that they NEEDED it, or that they’re dying for you to put it in writing to mail to their boss or for them to paste in a scrapbook. No, they’re just quietly comfortable with the fact that Jesus Christ has allowed them to do some things in a way that glorifies heaven, and that’s really about all there is to it.

Clear down at the end of Mere Christianity, in a section entirely removed from this passage about pride, the same writer has a piece entitled “The New Men.” He writes about people who are just steady and safe in their walk with the Lord. Nothing knocks them off course. They’re not proud; they’re not smarmy. They simply know that they have a place in God’s universe, and that it’s a wonderful, safe, eternal place. Nothing can move them away from that spot of safety, and they seem to have lots of time to invite you into that circle of security with them.

Ironically, Uriah Heep’s fictional mom had it entirely wrong, but she accidentally comes out with a good line right at the ‘umble end of her road.
“We know our station,” she said, “and are thankful in it.”

And really, if Jesus is your station, she actually got one right.