When preparing a sermon, I often ask Deacon Maggie for her take on the readings and what they mean. Often her input is extremely helpful, and gets me going in the right direction.

So again this week, I was struggling to get started. On Monday, after going through the readings, I told Maggie that I would be preaching on humility. But on Thursday, I still hadn’t figured out how to approach it, and I told her so. Without missing a beat, she came back, "Not your strong suit, is it?"

She was right, of course. Like some of the other virtues, humility has never come easily to me. But fortunately I have a wife to every once in a while instill a little of it in me. I don’t know how celibate clergy can possibly maintain any humility, with no wife to point out all their faults to them. Of course, they do have Cardinal Ratzinger ... and Mother Angelica. But that’s another story.

So what is humility, anyway ... this virtue we’re supposed to have? The dictionary isn’t a whole lot of help. If you look up "humility," it says it is the condition of being humble. Look up "humble," and it says it’s an adjective describing a person who has humility. But both places describe "humility" as the opposite of "pride" (that equally hard-to-define deadly sin). The best clue comes from the Latin root "humus", which means "dirt." This can conjure up either of two images — one is a lowly person grovelling in the dirt, the other is a person who recognizes the reality of the Biblical imperative : "Remember that thou art dirt, and unto dirt thou shalt return." Either way, it gives us a little insight into the source of the word "humility" and therefore its meaning.

The popular meaning of "humility" then means thinking of yourself as dirt, having low self-esteem, and considering yourself of little value.

But this cannot be the Christian meaning of the word. In the first place, it is usually the people with low self-esteem that are pushing for recognition, trying to wangle the best spot at the table, and generally being obnoxious and arrogant. If these people had a healthy self-esteem, they wouldn’t be so terribly needful of the recognition of others.

More importantly, the gospel teaches us that we are of enormous worth. It says that God so loves each and every one of us, that if you were the only person in the world, Jesus would have suffered and died just to save you. Each one of us has been redeemed from the slavery of sin — at enormous cost.

How can we think of ourselves as being of little worth when the Lord paid so much to purchase our freedom? As Christians, we should ... we must consider ourselves to be of great value.

Then how can we have humility? Perhaps the following story will help. It was sent to me just yesterday by our eldest son, Rob (the Evangelical theologian).

Ruth was an elderly woman, alone in the world and living on social security. Like many seniors, she often found that there were too many days in a month. She ran out of money before she ran out of month. Sometimes it came down to choosing between medicines and food. But by carefully eliminating unnecessary expenses (like a car, movies, and the daily paper), she had learned to get by.

Ruth’s mail usually came around ten thirty in the morning, and she looked forward to receiving it, even though it was mostly junk mail and bills. One Saturday morning, she went out to her mailbox about eleven (as was her custom). In it there was only one envelope. She thought it strange, because there was no stamp and no postmark, only her name and address, carefully handwritten on the envelope. She opened it and read:

Dear Ruth,

I’m going to be in your neighborhood Saturday afternoon and I’d like to stop by for a visit.

Love always, Jesus

Her hands were shaking as she carried the letter in and placed it on her kitchen table. "Why would the Lord want to visit me? I’m nobody special. I don’t have anything to offer."

With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets. "Oh my goodness, I really don’t have anything to offer. I’ll have to run down to the store and buy something for dinner."

She reached for her purse and counted out its contents. Five dollars and forty cents. "Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least." She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of french bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk, leaving Ruth with a grand total of twelve cents to last her until Monday, when her next check was to arrive. Nonetheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meager offerings tucked under her arm.

"Hey lady, can you help us, lady?" Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans, she hadn’t even noticed two figures huddled in the alleyway. A man and a woman, both of them dressed in little more than rags. "Look lady, I ain’t got a job, ya know, and my wife and I have been living out here on the street, and, well, now it’s getting cold and we’re getting kinda hungry and, well, if you could help us, lady, we’d really appreciate it."

Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, they smelled bad, and frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to. "Sir, I’d like to help you, but I’m a poor woman myself. My twelve cents isn’t going to do you any good, and I’m having an important guest for dinner tonight, and this little bit of food is to serve to him."

"Yeah, well, OK lady, I understand. Thanks anyway." The man put his arm around the woman’s shoulders, turned, and headed back into the alley.

As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart. "Sir, wait! Why don’t you take this food. I’ll figure out something else to serve my guest." She handed the man her grocery bag.

"Thank you, lady. Thank you very much!" The man’s wife chipped in, "Yes, thank you!" Ruth could see now that she was shivering. "You know, I’ve got another coat at home. Here, why don’t you take this one." Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and sliffped it over the woman’s shoulders. Then smiling, she turned and walked back to the street, without her coat and with nothing to serve her guest.

"Thank you lady! Thank you very much!"

Ruth was chilled by the time she reached her door, and worried too. The Lord was coming to visit, and she didn’t have anything to offer Him. She fumbled through her purse for the door key. But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox.

"That’s odd. The mailman doesn’t usually come twice in one day." She took the envelope out of the box and opened it.

Dear Ruth,

It was so good to see you again. Thank you for the lovely meal. And thank you, too, for the beautiful coat.

Love always, Jesus

The air was still cold, but even without her coat, Ruth no longer noticed. The scripture came to her mind, "As many times as you have done it to one of these least ones, you have done it to me." Ruth realized that this was not her first encounter with Jesus, and would not be her last. Jesus is all around us, and among us.

The story is, of course, fictional. But it teaches an important truth, that Jesus is in those around us. Since that is so, shouldn’t we treat everyone we meet with respect and dignity and kindness ... even love?

When we do that, we are exhibiting the Christian virtue of humility, because we treat no one as being of lesser worth than ourselves.

Christ died for us, showing us that each of us is of great worth. We, after all, were created in the image and likeness of God. But Christ also died for rich people and bums, atheists and fundamentalists, Yankees and Southerners, virgins and prostitutes, heterosexuals and homosexuals, chauvinists and feminists, Democrats and Republicans, Protestants and Catholics, liberals and conservatives, Muslims and New Agers, whites and blacks, Gentiles and Jews, males and females. ... Have I mentioned a group you tend to look down upon? Not yet? Who is it you hate or fear or despise or look down upon or avoid or are repulsed by or just don’t like? Well, whoever they are, they too were created in the image and likeness of God. And Christ died for them, too. And therefor they too are of great value and worthy of respect and dignity and kindness and love.

You see, if we really understand the gospel message, we can look down on no one.

That’s all there is to humility. We don’t have to devalue ourselves to be humble. We just have to not devalue others.

Let us pray.

Dear Lord, we thank you for having wondrously created us in your image, with the ability to see and hear and smell and touch and appreciate and sacrifice and love. You did such a great job that each and every one of us is wonderful ... and beloved in your eyes. You showed us the depth of your love through the suffering and death you endured for us.

Grant us the insight to appreciate the enormous value we have to you. Help us to treasure the life you have given us and to use that precious gift in your service and the service of all the others whom you also have created and do love. Grant us the virtue of humility, that we never seek to devalue nor to pretend superiority over another. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

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