Our Father loves to come to the rescue of the humbled ones. After all,
He loves us!
However, it seems that unawaringly some of us have
some pride that hinders us from experiencing our Heavenly Father fully:
"If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and
pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear
from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land." (2
Chronicles 7:14 NIV). Pride leads to impasses. Besides, who in this
world likes the prideful?
Instead we are encouraged to: "Be
completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in
love." (Ephesians 4:2 NIV). It's only when we are humble that we can
experience genuine love.
How many among us are proud?
Interestingly, so few of us will admit to pride, but are we truly being
honest?
How many among us are humble?
Well, if we are
truly humble, none of us would raise our hands either. After all,
raising our hands would show that we are indeed not humble at all. The
humbled ones would never shout: "I am humble!"
Do we ever
meditate on our pride? It would be an eye-opener if we did. Most of us
have hidden pride that is far from being productive, and it can hinder
our relationship with our Maker. Pride destroys, as the prideful are
always right. Is it any wonder that divorce is on the rise? Pride is a
large part of that.
We often say we are following in the
footsteps of Jesus. However, did Jesus ever show pride? Not at all. He
was humble at all times.
One day some Pharisees brought a woman
to Jesus, "And said to Jesus, 'Teacher, this woman was caught in the act
of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what
do you say?'" (John 8:4-5 NIV). Never did He raise His voice. Instead He
kept His eyes on the ground, writing in the dust.
The Pharisees
kept on questioning Him, however it was only after a while that he
lifted his face and said to the crowd: "If any one of you is without
sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." (John 8:7 NIV). This
was quite amazing. Instead of answering their question, He shifted the
question to the Pharisees and the public by asking them what they would
do in this situation, and then He suggested that those who had never
sinned should administer the punishment. Sadly, all of them had sinned,
and their consciences began accusing them. They realized that pride was
at the root of everything. Although they were ready to throw stones when
they arrived, they left so quietly that no one noticed them go.
It's then that Jesus asked that poor woman: "where are they? Has no one
condemned you?" (John 8:10b NIV). "No one, sir,' she said." 'Then neither
do I condemn you,' Jesus declared. 'Go now and leave your life of sin.'"
(John 8:11 NIV). That's our Jesus. He always sides with the humble, and
He alone knows how to deal with the prideful.
During the days of
Ford's Model T, these cars were so popular that they were shipped
everywhere. Some even had to cross Lake Superior. The lake, however, can
become quite temperamental at times, and it happened that the ship
containing the Model Ts was in distress. They had to lighten the load,
and the only thing they could do was to dump all the crates containing
the Model Ts into the waters of Lake Superior.
One hundred years
later, a man thought about finding these Model Ts. They were brand new,
as no one had ever driven them. If he could find them, he would be rich.
Success would have made him feel quite prideful.
The anchor
caught itself on one of the Model T crate. Hurray! Once he found one, he
would have no difficulties finding the rest of them. "I will be rich!"
He put out a buoy to indicate the location of this crate, and he
went back for a ship that could pull the crate from the water.
Unfortunately, upon his return, the buoy had disappeared. He searched
and searched, but the shifting waters of Lake Superior had caused the
crate to sink back into the sands of the lake's floor. He would never
find any further traces of the Model Ts.
That poor man came back
quite devastated. His prideful kingdom had evaporated into nothingness.
Rob Chaffart