There are times in our lives when a piece of humble pie is our just desert. You know those times when our confidence can slip into arrogance; times when we stepped into the spotlight before thinking; times when we wish we had not spoken or acted in a given situation.

Humility is a difficult virtue in a culture where self-indulgence is an encouraged practice. We learn early on, how to gain the respect of others with our educational degrees, accomplishments, and material wealth, for starters. Those aren’t bad things, but they are not what make us valuable. Furthermore, practicing humility of any sort, is difficult in a world that rewards the opposite.

The parables we have heard these last two weeks seem to have a related theme. Remember the Good Samaritan? A man had fallen to robbers on a well traveled road. Robbed and beaten, he was left on the road to die. Those we would expect to help him, the priest and the Levite, both religious leaders, did not; in fact they crossed the road to avoid him. Yet the Samaritan, a person without status, and shunned by his culture, was the very one who stopped to help. Quite an indictment against the religious leaders and their rules, or whatever prevented them from getting their hands dirty that day.

Then last week, we hear Jesus telling the parable of the Rich Fool who had such an abundance of wheat he didn’t know what to do with it all. All of his attention was directed on himself and how to manage his wealth. Jesus warns the crowd to be on guard against all kinds of greed, because our worth does not consist of how much we have. So it was. That night, the wealthy farmer unexpectedly died and all that he had stored up for himself was for nothing. Better to be rich with God, than rich for ourselves, we learned.

Now this week we find Jesus, who is invited to dinner at the home of a leading Pharisee.  The host had invited his friends who were found elbowing each other for the prominent seats. It would be something like us being invited to a wedding, ignoring the place cards at the tables, and seating ourselves at the head table with the bridal party! A social faux pas to be sure! 

So Jesus tells them the Parable of the Wedding Feast. It is better to humble oneself than to get puffed up over our importance, for we may be eating humble pie.

Each of these parables seems to have a connecting theme of humility in them; being beyond helping another in the Good Samaritan; or focusing on only our own needs, in the Rich Fool; or elevating ourselves to a seat of prominence, in the Wedding Feast.

One of the wonderful things about preaching is the opportunity to apply Jesus’ teachings to our own lives. Preaching is an experience of being humbled, as Ron and I come before you to ever so carefully carrying the sacred message of God. Who are we to bring this sacred word to anyone? What if we get in the way? But gratefully God has the power to use our preparation to bring us and you into the presence of God, as the message is preached to us as well.

This happened to me over a week ago. When I got to the words in the text that read, “For all who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted”, I had a flash back to 6^th grade. Now it has been awhile since I was in 6^th grade, but it felt very recent.

In those days, we walked to school instead of taking the bus, so we had patrols at every busy intersection where children might cross. I clearly remember thinking that school patrols were positions of prominence and esteem. They wore a banner and carried a flag, and had the authority to even stop cars when necessary, to guide the younger children across the intersections safely. It was a heady experience! As a further sign of esteem, each spring those who had been school patrols were invited to attend the school patrol picnic. I remember that as a small elite group, but in reality I think it was the entire 6^th grade!

All through grade school I had waited for this event and now it was here. Being 11 or 12 at the time, it happened to coincide with my most recent and developing  interest in the opposite sex. So when both Billy Brewer and Eddie Pagel asked me to attend the picnic with them, I was really puffed up with self importance. The banner, the flag, the power, and now being invited on my first date by not one but two boys! It was nearly too much.

Now, I had learned at home that bragging was not an endearing trait, so I prepared what I thought was a more acceptable way to share this news with the teacher. “Which one should I choose?” I posed. I expected adulation, praise even celebration from this teacher I adored.

After I presented the problem she responded gently, “Why that’s easy, Barbara. You won’t go with either, because we don’t go on dates to the school patrol picnic.” With that, she smiled and walked away. I stood there stunned. I could feel the hot color seeping into my face; the air leaking out of my chest, as if it had been punctured. I slunk to my desk humiliated, not because my teacher had intentionally embarrassed me, but because I realized I wasn’t as important as I thought. It was a big helping of humble pie.

Now I look at that story as a valuable lesson received at an early age. I remember it so vividly because someone I admired, cared enough about me to handle it with love. I don’t think it was any coincidence this happened. I believe it was God loving me enough to protect me from myself.  You see humility is a learned behavior and I don’t pretend to have mastered it. True humility, says one author, is not being conscious of our humility, for if we are competing for the most humble behavior in the room, then we are really elevating ourselves indirectly.

It seems to me that Jesus’ teaching wasn’t about following the rules; in fact many times he took on the establishment by breaking the rules. I think Jesus’ teaching is given to us for our own protection, out of love for us. Don’t take the seat at the head table and be asked to move. Save yourself the disgrace. Instead sit at the lowest seat where you may be invited to move up.

Much better to be invited to a place of honor than to claim it yourself.

Jesus then shifts his attention from the guests to the host. Inviting our friends is no act of hospitality, he says, for they will repay with an invitation to us. But when you the invite the poor, the lame and the blind, this is a much greater act of giving, for they cannot repay you. In this way you will be a blessing and be greatly blessed at the resurrection.

Hospitality in this way is an act of humility. It’s not about rubbing shoulders with the “A” team, but rather about welcoming those who will never be on the “A” team. The text also does not give us an “out” by suggesting that we can send food over, even though this is a kind thing to do. No, I think the point here is about the host and the guest seated at the same table. Jesus’ teaching reminds us that no one is a project to be pitied; all are equal in God’s sight.

This week I had a profound experience applying this lesson anew. As long as I can remember, I have wanted to serve on a jury, yet during my life time I have been summoned only once and my number was eliminated before getting to the courthouse. But this time I got to the courthouse, but pretty certain I would not be chosen. I had been told that lawyers try to avoid selecting pastors, for fear that compassion will rule instead of the evidence.

Nevertheless, I found myself in a group of 24 to be questioned for selection.

The case involved a 26 year old male charged with 2 felonies: enticement of a child; and attempting criminal sexual assault on a child. Up until then, I was thinking more along the lines of shoplifting or a traffic accident!

The emotional climate in the courtroom was high; the questioning probing; my hands sweaty. Facing the defendant, I found processing the intent of the lawyer’s question, at the same time I was formulating my answer, a daunting experience. Surprisingly I was selected and this time I did not feel the elevated status of my school patrol experience. This time, I felt like I do preparing a sermon. Who am I to decide this man’s fate?

After all the evidence was presented, the witnesses heard, the closing arguments completed, 12 of us who had never met, found ourselves around the same table. For two days we had not been allowed to talk about the case with each other. Now we found ourselves alone, with only our scratchy notes and different memories of the courtroom experience, with which to make a decision.

The sense of responsibility was overwhelming to me. I had no law experience. I had no law courses or education of any kind in this arena. I didn’t even have the common legal terms clear in my mind, and suddenly I thought: there has been a terrible mistake. I’m not qualified to decide if this man is innocent or guilty. Yet his future was placed in our hands. What if we made a mistake? It happens I know.

The pages of instructions, the charges, and our assignment were all deep in legalize, that first we had to decipher. Then we had to weigh the evidence against the charge.  At the same time we also were dealing with both our own emotional feelings and those of the others, around the nature of this case.

Here we were, 12 ordinary people, from all walks of life, with no particular legal experience or knowledge. We were to use our common sense, not our law education. We were charged with determining guilt or innocence of a man we didn’t know.

It was more than humbling. During our deliberations, one man was overcome with the enormity of the charge, while several others cried over the responsibility and the difficulty of deliberating.

This 2 day case stretched into 3. The burden of proof is on the prosecution and it was a difficult moment for me when I realized the significance of this. What if they were incompetent and a guilty man was set free to harm others? Or what if he wasn’t guilty?

All of us worked hard at reaching the required unanimous vote. We came to a unanimous decision on the first count, but could not agree on the 2^nd.  Deciding one’s intent is much harder than deciding if an act occurred. We became a hung jury. Nine of us were convinced that he was guilty without a doubt, but no amount of discussion could sway the others. What else could we do?  I wondered. We had tried everything for resolution. It seemed like doing our best was not good enough.

Just when I felt my worst, the woman next to me, a clerk at King Soopers, leaned over, patted my arm, and said softly, “It is all in God’s hands now.” Tears stung my eyes. I had forgotten temporarily, in the intensity of the hour, that I had allowed the dynamics of the group to convince me that it was all up to us. I fell to my knees, spiritually; I drank in her words to me as living water. So grateful was I for her reminder of what, of course, I knew, but could not call up at that moment. It was in God’s hands now. We had all done our best work; there was nothing left for us to do. Now I could let it go.

Sadly I returned to the courtroom with the other jurors, thinking that a hung jury meant a guilty person would be free.  The courtroom had filled up with strangers and everyone stood as we entered. The verdict was read. We were dismissed to the jury room and the judge came to speak to us.  When she entered the room she said, “Never have I seen a jury work as hard as you. You have given it your all; you can be very proud of what you have given this court and this community.” 

She went on to explain what we did not know. Because this was his first offense, he would probably not go to jail. But he was not off the hook by any means. There would be severe consequences; the list of which was worse to me than going to jail; for jail is not the only form of punishment nor always the best. The consequences of his actions will impact him for the rest of his life.  Justice had been served after all.

I am so grateful for this experience that made Jesus’ teaching of humility come alive this week. I pray for this man, hoping God will help him find his way. I pray for the other jurors who gave their best. I pray for lawyers and judges who work hard on our behalf to do what is right to protect us and the defendant, in a very stressful environment.

I believe that there is something sacred about humility for us today and everyday. Humility allows wisdom to break through when we need it the most. Wisdom is not to be confused with knowledge. Wisdom is not about the degrees we have earned, the facts we have retained, or the awards we have accumulated. Rather, wisdom is following the soundest course of action, using our knowledge, our life experience and our understanding, to make sense of a situation. Knowledge is from humans; wisdom is from God.

It is humbling to be inside a system that is not familiar. It is humbling to have another person’s life in your hands. It is humbling to be reminded of how important wisdom is over knowledge. Humility is not about eating humble pie, but the awareness that we are not better than another. Humility is about being prepared to enter the kingdom.  Thanks be to God! Amen.