Suggested Readings: Psalm 126, Isaiah 43:1-7, Philippians 2:1-24
During the two contemplative periods in the church calendar, Advent and Lent, we are called to self-examination in preparation for two momentous celebrations; Jesus’ birth and resurrection, respectively. I love these times when the church beckons us to slow down, shut out the clutter and chaos of the world, and intensely, deliberately, seek to connect with the still, small voice of God within.
A posture of contemplation is one that requires great humility. At a minimum, it is a time for us to stop talking to (or at) God and to spend more effort listening. More than that, humility allows us to let go of our expectations; to put aside what we think God has to say to us and, instead, to open ourselves to mystery and the unknowable.
Humility as a virtue seems to have lost some of its cache, or even respect, in recent times. When was the last time a political figure, entertainer, sports figure, influencer, spokesperson, or other “expert” was willing to admit and say out loud, “I don’t know”? More often they offer strong opinions, admonishments, pronouncements, and judgments about ideas, people, institutions, and events. What we hear today is more often bluster – the desire to at least sound confident about what we know. Our fear of being wrong or judged often results in a defensive attitude which has quite the opposite effect of humility – it shuts down our ability to listen and closes ourselves to other ways of knowing.
In Paul’s letter to the Philippians (2:1-24), he admonishes Jesus’ followers,
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility, value others above yourselves.
Paul calls us to the highest challenge: to have the same mindset as Christ Jesus “who made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant.” That posture and mindset of humility could not be more countercultural to our world which seems to thrive on certainty, divisiveness, dismissal, and rejection of ideas and people that are different from our own.
During this time of Lenten self-examination, what might it mean to approach God (and others) with the humility of Jesus and to open ourselves to surprising insights beyond what we already “know”? What if, instead, we simply responded to God as Samuel did: “Speak, for your servant is listening.”
Sarah Fisher Gardial
