O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. 2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.
Psalm 131:1-2, ESV
To be humble [Hebrew, anavah] means that we recognize our boundaries. We will not advance by stepping beyond what God has ordained for us. We learn to be content with the present. Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. It puts others first.
In Psalm 131 we begin the walk into “anavah.” We’re brought by God into a place where we understand who we really are. Our lives are not characterized by self-promotion, but rather serving God and advancing others before ourselves.
The image is one of being a weaned child resting on a mother’s chest. We have no agenda, there is nothing that we must do, but just relax on Him.
Seeing a weaned baby is one who no longer needs its mother’s milk. There’s no fussing or grasping for nourishment, rather he’s simply content to rest in his mother’s warm embrace.
To practice true humility, or the Hebrew word “anavah,” it is to renounce ambition in all its insidious forms. As Jesus’ disciples we follow Him with our cross. That cross puts the end of our old life. And we die daily. And it is obvious to all.
“And since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you.”
“We had long known the Lord without realizing that meekness and lowliness of heart should be the distinguishing feature of the disciple.”
It seems I’m the world’s worst and the clumsiest of all. And since my brain surgery, it has gotten even worse. I fall several times every month. I need to use a cane now. (And if you look up “klutz” in the dictionary you’ll see my picture, lol.) 😃
When I start to dance,you had better head for higher ground!
Even so, I do love the idea of dancing, but I’m like Bozo, the circus clown, only wearing roller skates! I lurch from side-to-side and I’m always on the verge of falling on someone’s lap, which is a real hoot!
But there is just one dance that I am waiting for.
It’s the dance I’ll have with my Savior. There will be a day, in a place and time where He will call me home and He himself will teach me how to dance. I know it’ll be incredible, and it’s a day that I anticipate, and honestly, I hope it comes soon. (He’s finally going to heal me!)
But to really dance you must first liberate your heart.
You must cancel out all self-consciousness. If you are self-aware, you will never enter into the joy and wonder of the true dance. You will be a perpetual wallflower, living only on the edges. And, you will be very sad.
It seems you must dance in your heart before you can ever dance with your feet.
I desperately would like to dance. And when I see Him clearly on that day, I’ll have no cane to slow me down. I will be as graceful, and to be perfectly honest, I won’t be watching you, (I’m sorry). I will see only Jesus. And I believe that my heart will beat for Him exclusively.
Jesus shed His blood for me.
I belong to Him. He forgave all my sin and has given me eternal life. Knowing this fills me with such joy that my feet won’t stand still. He redeems me, and is this not a cause for a dance, or two, or maybe three? Maybe eternity will be filled with more joy than we ever dreamed possible?
Some of you have been damaged–mashed up in the grinding gears of life’s hard issues. It’s hard to dance. I understand.
But I also know that your life can be astonishingly full of grace– you have endured so much, and yet Jesus intends to occupy your thoughts and vision with real hope. As His disciple, you’ll discover your special dance. And when you finally see Him, your heart will finally be free to spin and twirl.
He after all is the Lord of the dance.
“Young women and young men, together with the elderly, will celebrate and dance because I will comfort them and turn their sorrow into happiness.”
“And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.”
Luke 15:20, ESV
There comes a time when the prodigal stands up–looks around, and then decides he can’t live this way anymore–it’s now time to return home. But he is no longer a ‘rich man’s son,’ the pig-pen completely crushed that idea. He returns home, thinking that at least he can be a slave.
The devastated prodigal now understands.
And it’s that which gives him the propulsion to leave the pigs behind, and begin to somehow be received by his father. The trip is a long one, lots of walking, and yes, it’s hard–he’s far from where he’s supposed to be. He is tired, ragged and worn.
But please dear one, you must understand this about Jesus’ parable–the story isn’t so much about the prodigal son, rather I think that the focus should really be on the father. Jesus is teaching us that the love of God is a searching/seeking kind of love, and it cannot be shut down, or go away over time. Not ever.
You see, it is a 24/7/365 day kind of love. Intense and constant.
Think of it like high intensity radar that steadily sweeps over extreme distances, it is always looking, seeking, and it won’t be denied. The Father is seeking for His sons and daughters. He intends to find them. If we refuse we will continue to feed pigs, over and over, and we will starve.
The Father never sits on His backside, calmly watching from His throne. He reaches out and runs to us. He is far from passive, rather He intensely yearns for His sons. And God is fully focused into the work of reclaiming His missing sons and daughters, just like in Jesus’ story.
He continues to search, even when things get really nasty for the son. He won’t give up.
I personally believe that this parable is the greatest of them all!
Jesus is explaining the deep love the Father has for prodigals like us. This story is so revealing, for in it we see that the Father who is running. We must know this about Him. We must internalize it and understand the compassion He has. If we stall in our discipleship it’s often because we don’t grip the awesome depth of His love.
There seems to be very few people who understand a God who runs.
As the prodigal hits bottom he realizes the futility of his choices and yearns to return to the forgiving embrace of his father. Overwhelmed by guilt and shame, he makes the long journey back to the home he once took for granted. Little does he know it, behind the scenes, his father has been watching, waiting, and hoping for his return.
And then, in a moment that encapsulates the beauty of unconditional love, the father catches sight of his boy from afar. Without a second thought, the father runs towards him with outstretched arms, his love insisting on forgiveness. His arms reaching through the filth.
Here we see a love that surpasses all human understanding.
Jesus teaches us a different kind of love. It’s not based on achievements or what society says. This love is given to everyone, regardless of their flaws, but in order to have it, they must leave the pigs behind. Sometimes that isn’t always easy. I hate to tell you this, but some will never make the journey home.
This profound depth of His love often leaves us feeling totally doubtful or skeptical.
Our logical minds struggle to grasp how such boundless love can exist, especially when we witness the failings and flaws of human love. Yet, it is precisely because love transcends logic that it is so powerful. It operates on a different plane, bypassing our human limitations and revealing a deeper truth about the nature of God’s infinite compassion.
We’re simply beggers telling other beggers where to find bread.
Let’s speak out boldly of this love that will transform lives. For when we approach Jesus’ parable with a bit more humility and faith, we may just catch a glimpse of its astronomical power and love that will never give up on His sons who are camouflaging themselves as pig farmers.
We shout of the love the Father has for His blundering and wayward children.
If the Church can just keep up with our running God, we will finally understand who He really is. And if we only accept the love of the Father towards prodigals—no matter what the sin—it’s then we will finally understand the ‘white-hot’ love of the Kingdom of Jesus.
And the Church will finally be doing His will in the world.
Some time ago I came across a story that connected. It seems a visiting speaker visited a congregation and shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing, but in the end he was still unsure he did the right thing. But after he finished, an elder of that church came up and spoke to him–
“You have finally learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”
The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. And finally, something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal scripturally with those ugly things from his past. And yes, he had finally become a proper steward of his pain.
The word for steward in the original Greek is oikonomos. It literally means “a keeper of a home.” It describes a manager, a superintendent to whom the head of the house or proprietor has entrusted the management of his affairs, the diligent care of receipts and expenditures.
The issue for us is managing our awful things for the Kingdom of God.
No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they often come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us–we have been hurt. Sometimes profoundly.
Or maybe you’ve wounded others?
Are you a good steward of all of this? Whether it’s a trauma–a physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It’s a scar you carry from your past, and it seems that no one is immune from them. But dear one, I really believe that you’ll find freedom when you start to use these things for Him and his Kingdom. I have finally, I think anyway.
We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and redeems it all for His glory.
He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. He’s not surprised by these hidden sins. I suppose the challenge is to take these sad events and give them to Him. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us. He uses our pain to touch others deeply.
Satan has afflicted you in a dark attempt to destroy you.
But Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that He brings with him. It really is His work, not ours. We finally understand the wide scope of His cross. It’s then we become broken healers that God can use.
The light has truly overcome the dark!
We’re able to touch others with these things that would cripple and destroy. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”
2 Corinthians 5:17
We’ll definitely meet those who need to hear our story of us walking through an ugly pain. God will arrange it.
We’re slowly being transformed into authentic witnesses of His healing power. And yes, at times these awful things will still hurt us, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them by His grace.
We’re finally becoming real-life stewards of our pain.
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
“Now he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noticed how they chose the places of honor, saying to them,”
8 “When you are invited by someone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in a place of honor, lest someone more distinguished than you be invited by him, 9 and he who invited you both will come and say to you, ‘Give your place to this person,’ and then you will begin with shame to take the lowest place. 10 But when you are invited, go and sit in the lowest place, so that when your host comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at table with you.”
11 “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.“
Choose your seat carefully. In Jesus’ day, there was a definite seating order to a wedding feast. It wasn’t first come, first served. There was a strict protocol, where one’s importance mattered. Honored people got honorable seats–close to the front as possible. Average people got average spots; but no one wanted to be at the bottom, having to sit at the “kids table.” 😁
Jesus was watching, and He saw a spiritual truth of his Kingdom.
Often He teaches out of the things we encounter–real life events. Spiritual truth often hits us from those things we actually see. If you want to know what God is doing in your life, all you need to do is look around at the “practical” things, and start to see the spiritual lessons inside them. We learn from real-life. That’s how he often teaches us, he combines the Word with what we’re experiencing.
I suspect that life is a very long lesson in humility.
Our natural inclination is to move higher up. We often think that we’re deserving, and so we take our “rightful” positions. That’s the way humans think. We all want to sit in the best possible place, and so we end up wheedling our way up front. We can fall into the subtle trap of self-promotion. But that’s not how discipleship works.
Humility is totally opposite from the world’s way of thinking.
Jesus corrects, advising us to take the lowest place. I think verse 11 is the key to figuring out this seating arrangement. We’re starting to see a physical situation become a spiritual lesson. There’s much to learn.
“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled [before others], and he who habitually humbles himself (keeps a realistic self-view) will be exalted.”
Verse 11, Amplified Bible
This translation injects some realism into our lives, especially in how we see ourselves. It’s quite foundational. It lays down a principle that is always true in his Kingdom (1 Peter 5:6). If we don’t accept and implement this, we’ll suffer a definite deficiency in our discipleship. It stunts the growth of many believers. And that is tragic.
The whole scene lays out how life in the spirit really works, and it seems terribly paradoxical.
Our human logic asserts that deliberately choosing the lesser is foolish, things really don’t work that way. We think (falsely) that we’ll only advance by asserting ourselves. But Jesus, quite aptly, clarifies the ways of the Kingdom–true maturity will only come if we decide to take the lowest place.
“Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.”
Dancers are some of the most talented people I know. Their gracefulness is truly amazing. But a dancer’s training is far from easy. By choosing to become dancers they have made a decision to absorb the pain of the dance.
Their toes and feet are blistered and bruised–they take constant abuse. Some live with chronic tendonitis, and their feet bleed sometimes, pain is their constant companion, but you know what? They still choose to dance. It’s what they were born to do.
Two things to consider.
They choose to dance. Dancers must operate with an iron will and an elegant grace. I suppose that is why they can dance the way they do. They have painfully blended the two. We see the elegance, but don’t see the pain.
The scars and bruises often become “badges of honor.” They would rather dance in pain, than not dance at all.
I once heard someone describe depression as having a mental bruise. I think I understand this.
As one prone to depression, I know what it is like to bury myself in my bed for weeks at a time. My own mental bruise was simply more than I could take. There was a sensation of sinking into blackness, a sense of total and complete despair. I felt lost and completely alone.
I prayed. I groaned, and I prayed again.
My sense of being totally lost in sad, dark thoughts was beyond comprehension. Dear reader, this was something quite real, and you must become aware of these things. Over 25% of people are diagnosed with depression sometime in their life.
Maybe some of your friends are suffering this way? It’s often hidden by a fake smile, but it’s there and you don’t even know it.
We would never say that diabetics are that way because of the enemy. The dark one will surely exploit it, but I think you give him far too much credit if you suggest he was able to initiate it. I don’t think Satan has the spiritual “voltage.” He often uses depression to “set his hooks” in a person.
I refuse to hide my mental bruises from those who share my pain. I will make the choice to dance. I’m bruised, but I will try to ignore the pain. God meets me with an extra helping of His grace and mercy. I want to exult in God, walk in His love, and “leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture” (Malachi 4:2.)
“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he has brought justice through to victory.”
Isaiah 42:3
The great pastor/evangelist Charles Spurgeon once spoke about his own personal battle with depression:
“I find myself frequently depressed – perhaps more so than any other person here. And I find no better cure for that depression than to trust in the Lord with all my heart, and seek to realize afresh the power of the peace-speaking blood of Jesus, and His infinite love in dying upon the cross to put away all my transgressions.”
“And when he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” 5 And Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” 6 And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking.“
“They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink. 8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying,
“Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”
Luke 5:4-8, ESV
Man, could He teach. Jesus sat in my boat speaking to the crowd–His words had the ring of truth–authoritative. I had never in my life encountered anyone like Him. His teaching was masterful and it pierced through the religious rhetoric we grew up with.
But it just wasn’t words. My mother-in-law had a terrible fever, and Jesus had healed her. He had also healed many others as we watched. Never had a man done this, it was unprecedented. And now this very same Jesus was sitting in my boat.
He directed us to go out and fish again.
You must know that we had already fished during the night away, and had caught nothing. Sometimes that happens. But Jesus was asking us to make another try. Fishing during the day just wasn’t done and I suppose I wasn’t thrilled about working again.
We rowed out some distance and threw out our nets. I expected nothing. Suddenly, without warning, the nets began to fill with fish–big, beautiful fish! We scooped out as fast as we could, and our boat began to sink. There were so many and they kept coming. I shouted out to the other boat. We needed help.
Soon both of our boats had taken all they could possibly handle.
I was completely overwhelmed, and I turned around to see Jesus in a new light. He was more than a powerful man–He was the Lord and the Messiah! I instantly knew and believed. It was then I collapsed at His feet. I spoke that which was in my heart.
“Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”
Life was about to change for Peter. Radically. I believe that it was at this point that his discipleship began. As he knelt there on the slimy fish he was told that he was going to become a “fisher of men.” That moment of brokenness would become a moment of real strength for him. I suppose that this is how it works.
Peter would commit a multitude of sins–he fell woefully short on several different occasions, and yet Jesus would forgive him over and over. At the end Peter would end up denying the Lord three times, and yet he repented.
Peter is an example of God’s grace and mercy.
“God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.“
“Who makes His angels spirits and His ministers a flame of fire.”
Hebrews 1:7
Jim Elliot was a Christian missionary martyred by the Auca Indians of Ecuador in 1956. He was just 29 years old. This quote was found in a journal he kept, and it was found after his death. There’s much here to process.
“He makes His ministers a flame of fire.” Am I ignitable? God deliver me from the dread asbestos of ‘other things.’ Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. But flame is transient, often short lived. Canst thou bear this, my soul – short life? … Make me thy fuel, Flame of God.”
A wonderful and intense quote. Passionate. Maybe we should dismantle it and consider what he was trying to say. There are some great insights to be found here.
First, he writes of asking God to be saturated with the oil of the Spirit. Jim Elliot wants to be set on fire with his life, heart, and spirit becoming the fuel.
Second, he writes of “dread asbestos.” Almost 2000 degrees F is needed to melt this down. Now regarded as a carcinogen but because it’s basically fireproof it was used often. For the person walking by faith it illustrates the power of sin.
Third, he writes about the brevity and shortness of his life and his need to live in the bright light of eternity.
O.K. Let’s switch metaphors.
The ponderosa pine needs fire to propagate. Their seeds are fire-activated.
Fire activates the cone that holds the seeds. Looking we see a tight little bundle which is covered in resin. To germinate they must be burned. Fire melts the exterior and the pine cone and releases the seed; and actually they can lay dormant for several years just waiting for the heat.
The believer needs heat to grow.
I don’t think there is any other way. The Word and the Spirit, combined with the heat of the circumstances we face, creates a blaze that is often seen by others. The furnace is God’s way to bring lasting change to His people. I wish it were different.
“They said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?”’
Walking with Jesus to Emmaus, Luke 24:32
“Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?”
A dear Christian friend has built his own coffin. He now uses it as a coffee table in his living room until the day he dies. I’m told that Trappist monks next to their monastery an open grave, a constant reminder of the certainty of death. When they file past it, they understand that everyone must die.
Do you see death-smiling as a type of leer or as an evil grin upon the face of an enemy that is about to bring you pain? Or is the smile a gentle one that offers solace at a time when fear may be raging?
“You sweep people away like dreams that disappear. They are like grass that springs up in the morning. 6 In the morning it blooms and flourishes, but by evening it is dry and withered.”
Psalm 90:4-6
In ancient Israel, Psalm 39 served as a “memento mori”—a reminder of human mortality. “Oh LORD, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!” (v. 4). David understood that life is somewhat insignificant in the light of eternity.
Remember that you must die someday.
“None of us can hold back our spirit from departing. None of us has the power to prevent the day of our death. There is no escaping that obligation, that dark battle.”
Ecclesiastes 8:7-8
Memento mori is a reminder of the inevitability of death. Jesus’s words, “Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds” (John 12:24).
As we adopt the reality of dying we must refuse the worldly ideas of death:
Our fear
Our doubts
Our frustration and cynicism
The loneliness
Satanic attack
“Let your hope of heaven master your fear of death.”
In the New Testament, Jesus exhorts his disciples to pick up their crosses daily and to remember their death as they follow him to the Place of the Skull: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23).
Remembering one’s death is an absolutely essential aspect of the Christian life, not only because it helps us to live well but also because it helps us to remember what Christ has done for us.
As you integrate memento mori into your life, you will find more fruit in the practice if you are able to connect within the community of the Church who are on the same journey. Talk with family and close friends about your journey.
Knowing you’re going to die and face a certain judgement is a bit unnerving. It’s also a definite way of defeating sinful habits. When we understand this, much evil is now avoided and renounced. Yes, you’re barreling into a real encounter with God. That you can be sure.
Our judgement is very much real. But we have a perfect plea. Jesus has paid the price for us. It’s His blood that delivers us and fully redeems us. Standing (or kneeling) we realize the love and mercy He has for us. When we stand before God, we stand complete.
“Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there’s a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.”
We’re fully and irrevocably forgiven. You can be sure of that. We can smile at death, knowing that it leads us into a perfect connection. Are you afraid? Yes, I understand. But know, if you’ve accepted Jesus as your Savior and Lord, the payment for all your sins, you’re forgiven.
A terrific study is finding the people who fell at Jesus’ feet. Tucked in the Gospels you’ll find stories of those who despair. You’ll also see them come to Jesus in brokenness and humility, without any other recourse. I call these the “people of the feet.”
They came to Jesus because they had no hope otherwise. They were people who were hopeless and wretched, they had long ago run out of options. They came to Jesus, falling down in front of Him. They were all people of the feet.
They were men and women who were truly desperate.
“Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
John 11:32
One of the classic scenes in the Gospels is when Mary meets Jesus after her brother’s death. She doesn’t understand Jesus’ delay, Lazarus has been very ill and Jesus could have healed him. She is grieving and confused. But she only has one posture and one place in her heart to be– at the feet!
There are some common characteristics that feet-finders have:
A great need that can’t be met without His touch
To understand one’s true condition–humility, brokenness
To beg for a healing, for self or family
To honor Jesus as the Messiah
To be more receptive to His teaching, to understand Him
To become a witness to others (although it does seem secondary)
The following 3 verses are just a small selection of those who fell at Jesus feet.
“And great crowds came to him, bringing with them the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute, and many others, and they put them at his feet, and he healed them.”
Matthew 15:30
“But immediately a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit heard of him and came and fell down at his feet.“
Mark 7:25
“Then people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.”
Luke 8:35
But there are several other instances where people came to sit at Jesus’ feet:
Mark 5:22-23, Jairus, a leader in the local synagogue
Luke 7:37-38, a sorrowing mother for her daughter
Luke 8:41, also Jairus
Luke 10:39, Mary, when Jesus was teaching
John 11:32, Mary, meeting Jesus entering Bethany
John 12:3, Mary, with her perfume
Revelation 1:17, John to express what he was seeing (also 19:10)
In every case we find people consciously coming and kneeling at the feet of the Lord Jesus. It was a deliberate action that came from their hearts. Each had a terrible need, and each was without hope.
It’s the end of religion if you’re a feet-finder. No more facades, no more treadmills. Instead your heart forever changes.
Formality and religious politeness are jettisoned. Brokenness and true humility takes their place. A foot-finder is no longer operating on spiritual niceties. Religion is comfortable, noble, and respectable, but it cannot heal or change people deeply.
Feet-finders know that they need Jesus desperately and will go to any length just to be touched by Him. They defy what is conventional and proper. They are not what we call respectable. You can find them at the feet of Jesus. They are feet-finders. Foot-finders weep, kneel, beg, shout. Too many tears and maybe some snot.
Hardly decent to religious people.
Are you really that desperate yet? Have you seen your need, and do you realize how lost you would be without His healing touch?
Often when I do pray, I sometimes think of the woman who was unclean. She speaks to me about approaching Jesus. I see myself in a crushing crowd of people, and I’m reaching out just to touch the hem of His robe. I know only Jesus can stop my own uncleanness. (Matthew 9.)
I’m convinced only Jesus can make me clean and whole.
I’ve tried to be holy and acceptable to Him. But I felt like a juggler, trying to keep my balls in the air all at the same time, and I could never pull it off. So I tried again and again. I was the unofficial master of religious effort.
But I found my rightful place at His feet. It’s where I belong. I love Him.
Alaska Bible Teacher 