Two reasons make the story I'm about to share not only embarrassing, but shameful. It shows just how sinful I am, and why I so desperately need the Savior.
One, our pastoral staff is currently reading through C.J. Mahaney's Humility: True Greatness. Thus my sensitivity to this particular virtue ought to be heightened.
Two, I just taught Mark 9:30-50 to a senior adult Sunday School class this past Sunday. The passage is all about self-denial, self-sacrifice, humility, and service. The disciples had just been told (for the second time) that Jesus would be rejected, condemned, and killed, but he would rise again on the third day. Instead of pondering this news, they began arguing about who was the greatest. Clearly, they missed the point. And I made a point of saying Sunday morning that we must not make the same mistake they did. We must be willing to serve those who cannot repay us or honor us. For that is where true humility and true service begins. But as the story that follows will illustrate, I too missed the point.
So here's what happened.............
Yesterday afternoon, I was informed that one of our city's resident "bums" was in the lobby of our church, and he had requested to speak with a pastor. And just so you know, this particular man has become fairly well known by the churches in our city because he has caused problems for many of them, including our own. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't very excited that the request came to me (I was in the middle of doing something, after all). But I went to meet him anyway.
As we began talking, the Holy Spirit brought the Mark 9 passage I had just taught a few days ago to my mind (as well as the two chapters from Mahaney's book I had just read that morning on that very passage in Mark). I began to realize that here was an opportunity right in front of me to exercise humility by serving someone who could not possibly repay me. Here was an opportunity for me to serve someone simply for the good of serving them, not so that I would get noticed by others for being a humble servant.
But almost as soon as those thoughts crossed my mind, I began to congratulate myself inwardly for being so humble and for serving someone like this. It took virtually no time for my mind to move from thinking about humility to proudly complimenting myself for such a display of humility. My attempt at obedience was turned into a matter of disobedience in a split-second.
And to make matters worse, at about that same moment one of our ministry assistants walked by and saw me talking with him. A few seconds later, she was followed by two of our staff members. A minute or so later, one of our church's deacons walked by. And inwardly, I was glad that they had seen me so humbly serving someone who could not repay me or honor me. I was glad that four people had seen my humility on display. Of course, the fact that they saw me defeated the whole purpose, but pride has a strange way of being completely illogical.
"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?" (Jeremiah 17:9)
