Famous comedian Jack Benny was recognized twice with an Emmy for his work on his namesake television show in both 1958 and 1959. In 1988 he was inducted into the Emmy Hall of Fame for his lifetime of work. When he received his award, I’m thinking it was probably the one in 1988, his dry, banal self-deprecating comedic humor kicked-in as he confessed, “I don’t deserve this award, but I have arthritis and I don’t deserve that either.”
A humble personal perspective from one of the greatest comedians of his era. I’m sure he appreciated the recognition, but it did not define him as a person, actor, or a comedian.
I have a friend in ministry who says, “I don’t deserve the praise lavished on me by my parishioners who believe I’m angelic, any more than I deserve the condemnation by my parishioners who believe I’ve been sent by the devil himself.”
Once again, a humble personal perspective from one of my favorite preachers. He is who he is, and is not defined by either the compliments or the accusations. I’m sure he lives somewhere in between the extremes. I’m just sure we can say the same about ourselves.
Gayle Erwin once wrote a book called The Jesus Style. In it he defined the humility of Jesus as one who was neither moved by those who lavished compliments on him, nor disturbed by those who heaped insults on him. He was not flattered when his opponents tried to butter him up, any more than when they were saucy toward him. Jesus defined himself by his relationship to God, and the people he engaged had little to do with moving the needle.
A personal perspective wrapped in humility helps keep one grounded.
Tom Brokaw chronicled the GI Generation and dubbed them The Greatest Generation. They were the ones born, raised, and molded by the hardship and poverty of the Great Depression. When Pearl Harbor was attacked, they answered the call to go fight the war. Many of them were not interested in killing people, but were committed to stopping evil spread throughout the world. After winning the war, they returned stateside. Many returned to their homes where they lived out their lives quietly seeking an education, farming, working, and raising a family while never speaking of their experiences overseas. Some ventured back to the Pacific Islands, to Japan, Europe, or to the ends of the earth as missionaries because they saw the need to bring Jesus to those lands. Others, like John F. Kennedy, Bob Dole, and George H.W. Bush ventured into politics motivated less by power and more by service. Still others became scientists who figured out how to put a man on the moon and bring him home again. They built the infrastructure of America, physically, spiritually, and morally.
Brokaw was right in labeling these men and women The Greatest Generation, but if you asked those who were part of such feats, they might say otherwise. They probably would defer to America’s Founding Fathers as the Greatest Generation commenting, “We just answered a call,” or “We just served our country,” or “We just tried to do what’s right.”
A personal perspective wrapped in humility allows people to say what they will about you without changing who you are.
The apostle Paul clearly had experienced some of this himself. Not just the negative barrage of conflict where he was accused of being “bold on paper, but timid face-to-face” (2 Cor. 10:1, 10), but also the danger of being placed on some pedestal where he might be set up to fail.
Following Paul’s Damascus Road Conversion, he started preaching Jesus. Being a Pharisee, he was already immersed in Scripture. He didn’t need more Scripture, he needed his ego checked and blinders removed to understand Scripture (don’t we all?). Once that happened, everything fell into the place. The one who persecuted the church became its greatest advocate and ally. Boldly, he started connecting the dots for the people to show how Jesus is the long awaited Messiah who fulfilled Scripture. All of which baffled people on either side of Paul.
Luke tells us two things happened. First, the believers in Damascus questioned Paul’s authenticity. “How could someone change on a dime and transform that fast?” Mind you, Paul had been breathing out murderous threats against the church (Act. 9:1) and suddenly he’s ok with the church? Paul had been given letters by the High Priest himself to journey from Jerusalem to Damascus to arrest those who follow Jesus. How could one be turned so quickly? Most of us change very little, if we change at all. Rarely do we see someone turn one hundred and ninety degrees almost overnight. But Paul did change, and that bothered a number of people. We know that ultimately Barnabas went to bat for Paul and vouched for his character which seemed to settle the matter with the church (Act. 9:27). But in the present moment, people were slow to throw their hats in the ring with this new convert.
Secondly, Luke says that Paul’s “turn-coat” upset the Jews who sent him to Damascus in the first place. No kidding. He failed his mission, which stirred up a hornets nest. The Jews did not want him playing for the other team. I wouldn’t, would you? They knew how much damage Paul could do to their theology and to their power. He knew Scripture and he had direct knowledge of the inner-workings of the Jewish religious organization. He had the dirt on them, and they knew it. Likely feeling scorned, scared, and snubbed, they sought out to settle the score by plotting to kill him.
This is when the story gets good. Paul learns of the plot and how his new adversaries where guarding all the exits to the city to set up an ambush. What is Paul to do? Those who dared to align with Paul found a basket, a huge basket, large enough to hold a man, and put him in it. In the middle of the night, they lowered Paul through a window and over the wall of the city so that he could escape and go to Jerusalem.
Simply heroic. At least that’s the way I had always been taught to read that story. Paul outsmarted the villains and beat them at their own game. They should have penned a medal on him and given him an award. When that story is read in church, we should stand and cheer like we do when our sports team makes an incredible play. And that’s the way I have heard and read that story from Luke’s perspective in Acts 9 all my life. And it’s not wrong.
But Paul tells the story differently. As the apostle finishes his essay on boasting about the things that show his weaknesses in 2 Corinthians 11, he briefly covers his great escape. This story is Paul’s final attempt to show how God works through his weaknesses. He says that the governor of Damascus, ruling under King Aretas, had the city guarded with orders to arrest him. Paul is not just name dropping, but giving the Corinthians a time, place, and credibility to his story. These are real people in real time. Then he adds, without any fanfare, a stripped down version of the story. He simply says, “But I was lowered in a basket from a window in the wall and slipped through his hands” (11:33).
I can sense the shame where Paul was willing to stay and fight, but instead of fighting he left the city like a dog with his tail between his legs. Remember, Paul is not telling this story out of strength to show how smart or brave he was, he’s telling this story to show off his weakness, and dare I say, his coward-ness. Here Paul shows a man totally dependent upon God for his survival.
Reliance on God is the sign of humility. No longer dependent our own strength, brilliance, insight, or ingenuity, or more to the point, we no longer seek affirmation or someone’s approval, we seek the applause of heaven. We rest knowing that God is good enough, because to God we’re good enough. We are not good enough, it’s just to God we’re good enough. So we cut through the noise and the calls and the messaging that either props us up or tears us down in order to hear the clear voice of God. Relying on that voice is the basis for humility.
Nothing is wrong with Luke’s depiction of Paul’s escape from Damascus. He was writing from his perspective to fit his narrative all the while guided by the Holy Spirit. Nothing is wrong with Paul’s telling of his escape either as it fits his narrative all the while guided by the Holy Spirit. What is important to remember is that what people say about you may be true or false, good or bad, righteous or unrighteous, but it’s what they say about you. What you say or think about yourself in your relationship to God is more important, because a humble personal perspective always trumps any other perspective.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)