Full Title: The Freedom of Humility: Living Fully Loved & Fully Free at God’s Table
Scriptures: Luke 14:7-11; Philippians 2:3-5
Theme:
Full Title: Grace Under Fire: Choosing Unity in Divisive Times
Scriptures: Isaiah 40:29–31; John 17:20–23
Theme:
In Luke 14, Jesus turns our understanding of status and honor upside down, calling His followers to take the lowest place and live in humility. This sermon explores humility not as a strategy for future reward, but as a way of life rooted in God’s unconditional love. Through stories from Scripture, everyday acts of quiet service, and the examples of people like Fred Rogers and unseen servants in our own community, we discover that humility frees us from self‑promotion and opens our eyes to the gifts of others. True humility is celebrated at God’s table—not in seeking the seat of honor, but in rejoicing simply to be there, fully loved and fully free.

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When I was growing up, there were moments when my dad would unexpectedly break out in song. One of his favorites went like this: “Oh Lord, it’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect in every way, I can’t wait to look in the mirror ’Cause I get better lookin’ each day. To know me is to love me, I must be a heck of a man. Oh Lord, it’s hard to be humble, But I’m doin’ the best that I can.” This always got a laugh, because of course, Dad sang tongue‑in‑cheek. But the truth is most of us recognize that humility is hard. I have been struggling with it all my life.

Being humble doesn’t come naturally. And yet, as followers of Christ, we understand that humility is one of the deepest calls of the Christian life. This morning, our Gospel reading in Luke 14 brings us into an intimate and very ordinary setting—a dinner party. Jesus is there, watching how people choose their seats at the table. Luke tells us that guests were scrambling for places of honor. And so Jesus tells them: “When you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher.’ For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

On the surface, it might sound like Jesus is giving tips on good etiquette—or perhaps even a little advice on how to play the humility game so you can ultimately get what you want. But that’s not His point. Jesus is not teaching us a clever self‑promotion strategy wrapped in modesty. He is doing something much deeper: He is turning our whole system of worth and status upside down.

Let me say again: humility is not something we drift into naturally. Pride often pushes to the front of the line before humility even has a chance to speak. Humility is something God forms in us over time—often through life’s refining moments, those experiences that bring us to the end of ourselves and closer to His grace. This upside-down kingdom value wasn’t just for the dinner guests that night—it’s a lesson even Jesus’s closest followers needed to learn.

For Christians, humility is not just a personality trait—it is discipleship. It is about obedience, surrendering to God’s shaping hand even when we don’t like the ways He chooses to teach us. Jesus’s twelve are a prime example. In Mark’s Gospel, we find James and John quietly pulling Jesus aside with a request: “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” As you might imagine, the other disciples were a bit perturbed. Like us, they all wanted assurance, recognition, and confirmation that their faithfulness would be rewarded. Jesus didn’t scold them for their ambition, but He reframed the conversation: “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant… for the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.”

Now, it’s tempting to hear that as transactional: “Serve now so you’ll be rewarded later.” But if we read scripture carefully, we see that Jesus never actually guarantees a seat of honor as a reward for our humility—He says, “…and the host may say to you—not will—‘Friend, move up higher.’” I hear no guarantee for this life or the next. In fact, Jesus often warns us that if we seek recognition here on earth and receive it, we’ve already had our reward (Matthew 6).

So what is the real value of humility if there’s no guaranteed promotion or applause in this life or the next? The value is this: humility draws us near to the heart of God. It frees us from the exhausting treadmill of self‑promotion and comparison. It makes space for the Spirit to work in us and through us. Humility is not about lowering ourselves so that God will one day raise us up to a better seat—it’s about forgetting our seat altogether and focusing on who else is at the table, especially those the world overlooks.

This is why Jesus follows up today’s scripture by saying: “When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind. And you will be blessed.” Notice—He doesn’t say, “And you will be noticed.” He says, “You will be blessed.” And in the Kingdom, blessedness often means something bigger and deeper than we imagine—something that works on our hearts.

When we hear this word humility, it’s easy to picture someone like Mother Teresa, who gave her whole life to serving the poorest of the poor. Her humility was visible on a global stage. But humility is more often found in the unseen moments and in the small actions that no one applauds. Fred Rogers—the beloved “Mr. Rogers”—who invited all of us to be his neighbor, personally answered every letter sent to him by children. Every one! Imagine that: taking time to write thousands of affirmations to young people over his long career. On his television program, in addition to elevating the importance of neighbor, he once asked his audience to pause for 60 seconds to remember all the people who had a part in shaping their lives. By doing so, he lifted others up quietly—shifting our focus to all those who helped us get to where we are. And then he thanked them—for the gift of you, and you.

While Mr. Rogers’ humility touched thousands of kids, most acts of humility never make headlines. They happen in the quiet corners of our lives—like right here in our own church community. I recall Mr. Swartz. Every Sunday after worship, Mr. Swartz stayed behind in this very sanctuary to pick up bulletins and straighten hymnals in every pew so that the sanctuary would be ready to greet those who came to worship next. He was not paid or recognized for this—no one put his name on a plaque—but fifty years later, I remember his quiet service. It still speaks volumes to me about true humility. These quiet acts may not turn heads, but in the Kingdom of God, I think they matter deeply—because they bear witness to the love of Christ.

Ultimately, our best picture of humility comes from Jesus Himself. Paul writes in Philippians 2: “Though [Jesus] was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant… He humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.” Jesus didn’t humble Himself to climb higher later—He humbled Himself because that is the way God’s love works. It gives. It serves. It lets go of privilege, giving others a place at the table.

Recently, I’ve been reminded that we rarely arrive at a more profound understanding of God’s word in isolation. Over the past month, I have wrestled with this lesson on humility. I have had conversations with my mom, with our pastor, with my mentor, and with my dear friend Lucina. I have been challenged to see humility not simply as letting go of self, but as a way of celebrating others. Harvard Business School Dean Nitin Nohria suggests humility is, in part, the willingness to admit that no matter how much we know, we can always learn from others. It’s about seeking to understand over being understood.

We often keep quiet in our uncertainty, don’t we? We fear saying the wrong thing or being found lacking in wisdom. But humility gives us permission to voice our doubts, ask our questions, and lean into conversation—because in doing so, God deepens our understanding through the insights of others. I humbly lift up gratitude for those who have extended my understanding.

It is embracing the freedom that comes from knowing we are fully loved—loved enough to stop trying so hard to earn it—and with that, we become free to notice the beautiful work of God in others. It is through humility… through surrendering this focus to self that continually tempts us that we find ourselves at God’s feast—not scrambling for the seat of honor, not angling for some reward, but rejoicing simply to be there—celebrating with gratitude the unique gifts God has planted in each of us.

And in that space, we find the freedom to love one another as Christ loves—without pretense, without competition, with open hands and hearts.

And so I pray that God will give us the courage to welcome this call, and the grace to walk through life humbly as we serve and love in the name of the one who invites us always to come, and take our place at His table.

Amen and Amen.