a steady humility

Jesus said it long ago: “Without Me, you can do nothing.”

To be honest, I’m not entirely clear how this works in the real world. Obviously, Jesus is not saying that we are to sit around and wait to be zapped before we do anything. He's not saying that we are to walk through our lives chanting some type of “help me, Jesus” mantra; there is no magic in repeated words, even if the words themselves are accurate and true. I also don’t think that Jesus is saying that we are truly incapable of doing anything unless we are 100 % conscious of our own need of him; if that were the case, nothing would ever get done.

But, one thing is clear: We do need him. And if we need him, we also need humility, that is, a cognizance that we need him. But, what is humility?

Well, I really don’t think it’s false modesty or feigned meekness. It’s not pretending that we have no abilities or gifts. It’s not about mouthing prescribed formulas, nice-sounding (to some) words about how dependent we are; talk about humility is cheap. It’s not a matter of working ourselves into some make-believe state of faulty piety.

Humility, rather, is a settled recognition, acquired and developed prayerfully over time with the help of like-minded individuals, that God is the one who gets the ultimate credit. He is the one who made us, sustains us, empowers us, walks with us, picks us up when we fall, and provides for us.

When we work hard, we certainly deserve a measure of credit for our efforts. But what factors influenced us in such a way that we became hard workers? If we are academically inclined and attain a measure of success, we can and should feel good about our accomplishments. But who gave us such mental capacities, and where did we learn to use our minds in helpful ways? Who created our brains, our bodies, and all that makes us who we are? Where do the intellectual gifts, the social competencies, and the physical talents come from?

Let’s be clear. Humility is not ignoring the obvious. It’s not pretending that we have no talents. It’s not acting (to the point of self-deception?) like we are bankrupt fools. It’s not walking around with a constant “woe is me” attitude. Indeed, I would argue that humble people can and should celebrate their achievements, that it's okay to say, “Wow, look what I have done.” But humble people also add this important element: They recognize that it is all traceable to a benevolent God, a God who deserves our honor and allegiance, a Lord who, amid our personal celebrations, is thanked, who is always recognized as the ultimate gift and opportunity provider.

In the end, believers will receive crowns. Whatever the particulars, and whether these are real or symbolic, we will be “patted on the back” for (hopefully) living godly lives. But humility recognizes, as did the author of the book of Revelation who records this scene, that the crowns must be thrown down at the feet of the One who is the true giver of all good things.

I suppose we all need to develop a sense of God consciousness, a simple realization that he is the divine supplier, the supernatural resource who fortifies and guides all our positive efforts . . . whether or not we realize it at the time. As we soak in such thoughts, perhaps we’ll begin to understand what Jesus meant when he said we need him for everything. Maybe we’ll even learn to embrace and embody a measure of humility, a steady humility.