Of course, life doesn’t work that way. But while there are plenty of problems that we can’t just make disappear, it’s also true that some of our problems of our own making. In today’s Gospel, Jesus addresses one of the biggest sources of our woes: our own pridefulness. The context of this Gospel is a dinner in the home of a prominent Pharisee. Jesus has been invited to this swanky scene, but it’s clear that this is not the kind of thing to which he was accustomed. For an itinerant preacher, who ate with tax collectors and sinners, he must have felt out of place among these high society folks, who were all seeking places of honor at the table, jockeying for position in order to be recognized as important. I tend to think that, as he observed them carefully, the whole thing made him a little sad, and perhaps it is that which prompts the parable and the lesson that he gives.
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| Feast in the House of Simon the Pharisee (c. 1618) by Peter Paul Rubens |
Perhaps like the people at that dinner, most of us probably wouldn’t think of ourselves as particularly prideful. We tend to think that pride is really only possible for people like the prominent Pharisee, those who have a lot of power, or fame, or wealth. The rest of us are just trying to make to do, be thought of moderately well, to be accepted in the social circles that we are in, whatever those might be. After all, who doesn’t want to feel appreciated, esteemed, and valued? The challenge though, as Jesus knows well, is that too often we seek that validation in the wrong places: by comparing ourselves to others, and by trying to show them – and ourselves – that we measure up by what we have, by what we’ve done, and by what we’re doing. From educational goals and career objectives, to the activities of our social lives, from what we do to maintain our own health and wellbeing, to the way we treat our friends or our relatives, and even to the ways we seek to give back, and to serve society – sometimes what we do is done as much to impress others, or to impress ourselves, as for any other reason.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus encourages us to simply opt out of that kind of behavior. Be humble, he says, and stop striving to make an impression. That can be a hard thing, especially if we struggle with insecurities or with our own sense of self-worth. The key then, as we hear in the first reading from Sirach, is to root ourselves in the knowledge of God’s love for us above all else. To be humble doesn’t mean to be diffident and demure, but rather to recognize that our identity and our importance comes not from ourselves, and not from others, but from the One who looks on us from above. We each have worth and dignity, not because we have had to earn them or claim them or flaunt them, but because God himself has bestowed those things on us, and because of that, we can’t be robbed of them. When we come to understand more deeply our own value, and the value of every person, then we can opt out of the prideful striving that can creep into a lot of our motivations and concerns. We can, if you will, simply unsubscribe.
If we need an example of how to do this, I’d encourage us to look at those for whom God has a special love: the poor and the needy. Often, they are the ones who know best that we find security not in what we have, or in whom we can impress, but only in the love of God and in his love for us. As a priest, I have often been taught this lesson time and again by those who are suffering from illness or physical ailment. For example, just this past week, a dear lady from my former parish in Stuttgart passed away after a long battle with cancer. She first got sick around the time I arrived there as pastor, but after a while, because of her illness and because of COVID, it wasn’t really possible for her to come to church. Instead, I would go to visit her, as did others in our community. As her illness increased, her movement became limited, and she was often in great pain. But every time I visited her, I was always impressed by the great patience and kindness she showed. As more and more was taken away from her, and as her interactions with others became more limited, she relied more and more on God’s strength and on the power of prayer, by which she stayed connected not only to God but to those whom she loved. She continued to touch the lives of her family and friends, and of our parish, by the spiritual example that she gave us, bearing the cross that had been given to her with great faith and humility.
Friends, consider who in your life shows you the value of relying totally on God. Of those who are needy, or suffering, or poor, what can you learn from them? What might they teach you about valuing what’s most important? Not all of the problems of our lives are like unwanted email, where we click a button and make them go away. But we can choose to opt out of the prideful motivations and desires that often guides what we do. If we seek to think less of ourselves, and strive more to measure up to what God asks of us rather than anything else, then we discover the freedom that comes from true humility. May the wisdom of the poor and the needy be an example for us, to reflect on who we are and what we are about in the light of Jesus Christ, he who became poor for our sake and who humbly accepted the Cross out of redemptive love for us. May we await, with great faith and humility, the resurrection of the righteous.
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