In his sermon at the Gospel Coalition, Matt Chandler made a statement that knocked me between the eyes: “When we take the talents God has given us to glorify Him with, and instead glorify ourselves, we are blaspheming.” What a convicting word! I shudder at the thought of having all-too-frequently “served the Lord” as a way of attracting attention to myself or my abilities.
Since TGC, I’ve been praying that the Lord would enable me to see His glory in a way that roots out my innate self-centeredness. One way He has been exposing the pride in my heart is in the area of humor and humility.
As Christians, we should be delightfully unimpressed with ourselves, right? But too often, we are quick to judge, quick to take offense, quick to defend our honor – all because we believe that we deserve honor and glory.
When we go the way of pride, we usually leave humor behind. Or, we may maintain a sense of humor, but it’s sarcastic and biting, focused on maligning others.
I just finished reading Rawhide Down: The Near Assassination of Ronald Reagan
Here you have the most powerful man in the world – overseeing a world on the brink of nuclear disaster, about to undergo an operation that may end badly – and yet he exudes warm confidence and self-deprecating humor. Within the context of the horror, Reagan’s humor is disarming. Critics might think he was disengaged from reality. But the people around him claim that Reagan’s humor was merely the expression of a deep-rooted humility.
You have probably heard what Reagan said to the doctors before going into surgery, “I hope you are all Republicans.” Or you might recall what the president said when his wife, Nancy, arrived at the hospital. Reprising a famous remark made by boxer Jack Dempsey after he lost the heavyweight championship in 1926, Reagan said, “Honey, I forgot to duck.”
But those are not the only one-liners that came from Reagan that day. When he was unable to speak because of his breathing tube, he scribbled lines on paper for the nurses:
- “All in all, I’d rather be in Phil.,” he scratched a near quotation of a famous crack by the comedian W.C. Fields.
- My personal favorite: “Could we rewrite this scene beginning about the time I left the hotel?”
- At one point, he quoted Winston Churchill’s famous line about how there was “nothing more exhilarating than to be shot at without result.”
- When the conversation turned to California, he reached for the clipboard and wrote, “Send me to L.A. where I can see the air I’m breathing.”
- And this: “If I had this much attention in Hollywood I’d have stayed there.”
Even more impressive than Reagan’s sense of humor was his modesty. As the doctors hovered over him, discussing his precarious situation, the president politely interrupted: “I don’t mean to trouble you, but I am still having a hard time breathing.”
Trouble you? If anyone had the right to ask for special treatment, it would have been Reagan. But the president did not assume rights. He simply wasn’t impressed with himself. He was genuinely modest about his accomplishments. He deflected credit for success by mentioning the good people he had around him. The secret service agents said he never treated them like hired help.
Regardless of your opinion of Reagan’s politics, surely we can learn from this man’s humor and humility. And as we reflect on his example, we find that humor and humility are often related. Think about it. When you are most concerned about yourself, your rights, your desires, your status, you don’t laugh very much. Neither do the people around you.
Pride is a joy-killer. It shrivels smiles. It spreads sullenness. And fighting always follows.
Pride distorts our view of reality. We take ourselves too seriously to laugh at ourselves. We feel too indispensable to take a break from our work. We’re too important to allow others to have unflattering impressions of us.
But then – one glimpse of the glory of King Jesus exposes all this absurdity for what it is. It’s embarrassing, really. We act like gods, when in comparison to the glory of God, we are mere ants jockeying for prestige. We’re like candles, boasting about our light, when in reality, we’re outside in broad daylight. Jesus outshines us all. The only way to get over ourselves is to get into Christ.
C.S. Lewis writes:
The point is, God wants you to know Him: wants to give you Himself. And He and you are two things of such a kind that if you really get into any kind of touch with Him you will, in fact, be humble – delightedly humble, feeling the infinite relief of having for once got rid of all the silly nonsense about your own dignity which has made you restless and unhappy all your life. He is trying to make you humble in order to make this moment possible: trying to take off a lot of silly, ugly, fancy-dress in which we have all got ourselves up and are strutting about like the little idiots we are.
Lewis learned the lesson well. Terry Lindvall writes in Surprised By Laughter: The Comic World of C.S. Lewis
Laughter is a divine gift to the human who is humble. A proud man cannot laugh because he must watch his dignity; he cannot give himself over to the rocking and rolling of his belly. But a poor and happy man laughs heartily because he gives no serious attention to his ego….Only the truly humble belong to this kingdom of divine laughter…Humor and humility should keep good company. Self deprecating humor can be a healthy reminder that we are not the center of the universe, that humility is our proper posture before our fellow humans as well as before almighty God…
