Dr. Robert Crilley

Sunday, September 21, 2008

When the disciples asked Jesus who was the greatest in the kingdom of heaven, he pulled a child out of the crowd and said, “Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”

That’s easier said than done, of course. In fact, humility may fall into the category of being something where the less you think about it, the better. For example, if you are trying to be humble, what happens when you succeed? Should you be proud of what you have accomplished? Do you announce to your family and friends, “I’ve done it. I’m the best there is when it comes to humility!”

It seems like a strange “catch-22,” doesn’t it? You can work at being humble but can take no pride in that, for as soon as you exhibit pride, you are no longer being humble.

Perhaps this is why people who are truly humble don’t tend to be all that concerned about it. They never set out to achieve humility … they are too busy attending to the needs of others—which is precisely what makes them humble in the first place.

Contrary to many of the sermons that I’ve heard preached on this passage (including some of my own), when Jesus uses a child as an example of humility, he isn’t suggesting that children are necessarily better or wiser than anyone else. What he is pointing out is that the people who will eventually get into heaven are people who, like children, aren’t particularly worried about it.

In other words, they are doing what they can to help others—not because they are anxious about obtaining eternal life and hoping to score a few extra points with the Almighty … but because it is what is called for at the time.

2 Comments:

  • I found this blog particularly timely, Bob. But maybe not for the same reason as you originally intended.
    I've been struggling with a situation that placed itself in my life late yesterday morning. I thought, at first, that your blog would clear some things up in my mind. But I may need some more "clarity" before I can come to peace with it.
    I rushed out of my office yesterday, late for a meeting. As I approached my car, a man seemed to come out of nowhere and approached me with what seemed to be the greatest of angst.
    He needed help from me. He had been walking the sidewalks of Addison since early morning. I won't provide details because, to be quite honest, I don't remember most of them now.
    All I knew was that he was seemingly desperate to find some place to rest after an incredibly traumatic situation with his wife. He had finally located the least expensive hotel room within a mile of where we stood - but he only had $15 in his pocket - and the room was $55.06.
    I don't know how many times he professed his Christianity to me. I looked into his eyes, they seemed clear but tired - many times filling with tears as he told me his sad, sad story.
    After five minutes of listening to him, I knew what I was going to do.
    I placed my daytimer in my car and reached for my wallet in my purse.
    I had $40 cash in it. I handed it to him with my business card and told him that he would be able to find me if he decided to repay me.
    His faced turned up to the sky and he said "Thank you Lord, thank you."
    He then told me that he would return later and repay me $50, $60, whatever he could to thank me for my kindness.
    I told him that I, too, am a Christian and the Lord told me that this is what I needed to do - regardless of whether I ever saw him or the money again.
    He shook my hand and we parted. I got in my car and started the engine and pulled out into the street. He was walking down the sidewalk, seemingly headed in the direction of the inexpensive hotel room he had found.
    I immediately started to proverbally kick myself - thinking of all of the questions I should have asked to verify the truth behind his story; all the other ways I could have helped him without giving him money.
    But a small prayer came from another part of my soul at the very same time - please Lord, let his story be true. Let me actually have helped someone who had no one else to turn to other than a stranger in a parking lot.
    I did what I did because it was "what was called for at the time". I certainly don't feel any better or wiser for doing it -yet.
    I may never feel that way.
    But I'll keep searching anyway.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 1:23 PM  

  • I live outside of Austin and my sister sent me a link to this post. Thanks for sharing your insights and wisdom. What a blessing...

    By Blogger Mindy Audlin, at 10:01 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home