I am often guilty of the evil boasting of arrogance that presumptuously declares where I will go and what I will do as though such things were in my control. I’ve been trying to obey the instruction that James gives about not boasting, but instead saying “if the Lord wills” I will do such and such. But I noticed something in my most recent reading of this passage. James doesn’t just tell us to say “if the Lord wills we will do this or that,” he says “if the Lord wills we will live and do this or that.”

When considering my plans I need to always preface my intentions with the reality that where I go and what I do are governed entirely by God’s will. This is right, but insufficient. For not only are my ways directed by his will, but my days are too. I ought not to presume upon one more day of life, or one more minute for that matter. If the Lord wills I will live, and finish this paragraph.

Since the root problem of speaking presumptuously is arrogance, remembering the “if we live” part this exhortation can be especially helpful in combating my pride and producing humility. Acknowledging God’s governance of my ways is right and helpful, remembering that he upholds my very life by his will alone is even more sobering. But it is also comforting. If the Lord wills “we will live…” If I am humble and receive the Lordship of Christ I need not fear death. My days are controlled by Christ. I will not live one day more than those God has ordained, nor will I live one day less. And receiving the Lordship of Christ makes me happy to live or die, for “to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21).

No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow’r of Christ in me;
From life’s first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No pow’r of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home—
Here in the pow’r of Christ I’ll stand.
In Christ Alone – Words and Music by Keith Getty & Stuart Townend
Copyright © 2001 Kingsway Thankyou Music

Thank you Jesus for your power, your strong hand that upholds my life, gives me breath, and sustains me. Help me not to resist your will, to strive, or to arrogantly boast of where I will go or what I will do. Help me to remember that all my days and all my paths are ordained by you. Cause me to rejoice in your control, not resist it or ignore it–for you are good and worthy of praise. Amen.

The apostle Paul was blessed with a glimpse into the glories of heaven. He saw and heard things that cannot be uttered. I would think that such an unobscured view of the glory of God in heaven would have the most positive, sanctifying, God exalting, eternity desiring effects on Paul. Indeed, I’m sure it did. Yet, even so, Paul was also in grave danger as a direct result of these revelations. Embedded in his corrupt flesh was the prideful tendency toward self exaltation. In our perfected state – after death – the glories of heaven will only produce perfect God centered joy. But because of our current corruption these same glories carry with them the potential effects of prideful self exaltation. God knew that Paul’s revelations would inevitably lead him to boasting. So for this very reason God assigned him a messenger of Satan. Some form of constant pain, severe enough that Paul entreated God three times for its removal, was given to him. But it was not removed because God knew that should this man, having received such great heights of revelation, would surely fall into the snares of pride and end up boasting.

It seems a spiritual necessity that great revelations be accompanied with some form of counter balancing affliction in order to keep human flesh from boasting. God knows I cannot bear too much revelation while in this sinful body.

The pattern is frequent in scripture. Was not Peter’s great revelation in stating that Jesus was the Christ the son of the living God followed quickly by his being sternly rebuked for standing in the way of Jesus and the cross? Are not some of the most blessed new covenant promises of adoption, sharing in the Spirit, and eternal inheritance conditioned upon sharing in the fellowship of His sufferings? Are not fiery trials appointed for the refining of faith more precious than gold?

There is a spectrum of experience for the Christian, and I must live along this spectrum moving between one extreme and the other day by day. On the one end is circumstantial and physical ease, usually accompanied by simpler, more modest revelations. And on the other end are the greater revelations of the glory of God in the face of Christ accompanied with burdens borne to counter balance pride. Truly the second state is to be preferred over the first, but who can bear it? No one can bear it, and certainly no one can prefer it except by grace. And joy! His grace is sufficient for bearing all such burdens.

To receive the gift of revelation and grace to bear burdens I must learn – like Paul – to say “therefore I am well content with weakness, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Lord grant me the grace to most gladly prefer pain and weakness if such might afford me a better revelation of Christ. You O God are my soul’s satisfaction. Let me not guard so diligently against all pain and discomfort but rather be ready to receive trouble – if with it also the grace to endure – that the result might be more of you. For Jesus sake, amen.

It will be much easier for me if I humble myself than if I must be humbled by external means. When pride rules in my heart I strive and strain, kicking against the restraint of rules, or responsibilities, or any of the circumstances God ordains to rein me in. But if I walk in humility, those implements which impose restraint will be worn comfortably.

My wife has recently had one of her life long dreams come true. She has a pony and a horse. She is now learning all sorts of new things about how to handle a horse. One of these things is that a horse needs to be humbled. And once humbled, it must be worked with regularly to maintain its cooperative state. If left to itself, for any length of time, it will become resistant.

Blaze, our new horse, is humbled, but Peaches the pony is not. Blaze can be led about with a gentle tug on his halter – Peaches resists and must be yanked around. The horse, while being much bigger than the pony, can be ridden by our young children. The pony can only be ridden by an experienced rider – one who knows how to kick and prod and keep her under control.

Both Blaze and Peaches wear the same kind of halter, and we use a similar bit and bridle on each when we ride them. But while Blaze yields to a gentle tug, Peaches has to be kicked and yanked in order to go where we want her to.

My wife will often take Blaze out of the fenced-in meadow and walk him through the yard and the adjacent fields where he can eat from the tall green grasses. As he is enjoying his munching, Peaches whinnies and gallops around in displeasure, having been left behind, alone inside the fence.

God opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble. He loves His children and therefore disciplines us for our good. He uses many devices to turn me from pride to humility. All of these devises, these means of humility, are from His mercy – and I need them. To be led about a horse needs to wear its halter, and a bit and bridle must be put on before it can be ridden. To maintain humility, to keep my soul in a state of happy compliance with God, I must also wear the means of humility – whatever they may be – just as a horse must wear its halter. If I remove the means of humility my wild, fleshly nature will soon re-assert itself. But if I receive the means without resistance they can be worn quite comfortably such that, at times, I may not even be aware of their presence. But if I struggle against the means of humility, not only do they become uncomfortable, but my inner outrage fusses and complains just like the pony blustering inside the fence as its partner grazes happily in the rich green meadow.

To be humble is a happy, comfortable and blessed condition. To be humbled hurts twice – it feels the intent of restraints and it boils inside with the vexation of pride which poisons the soul.

In contrast, while my humility is maintained, in part by external and merciful means, the humility of Jesus is perfect and complete. He needed no restraints to perfectly obey His Father’s will. How ironic that they bound Jesus with ropes as they led Him to the court. His humility and obedience were, in themselves strong as iron. What strength is there in a rope or a chain compared to the resolve and joyful obedience of Christ. I may need prods, but His compliance comes from a perfect contentment in the will of God. He submitted to the ropes, the chains, the nails, not because he needed to be held by external force, but because he stood in our place, as our representative, as our substitute. The ropes were our ropes. And if we faced the judgment of wrath we would by no means stand still; we would run, hide, and flee from our condemnation – if we could. And so, as a stand-in for us, He wore the ropes and was tied to the post and fastened to the cross.

Oh, to be humble! Lord, grant this blustering one humility and make me happy to walk in your green pastures. Grant me grace to humble myself so that I may walk about in all the fullness of your blessings – happily as you designed. Kill my pride and my kicking spirit – let me wear the means of my salvation with joy gladness. Thank you for the grace that can make this soul happy in your fields. Amen.

“Do not be as the horse or as the mule which have no understanding, whose trappings include bit and bridle to hold them in check, otherwise they will not come near to you.” Psalms 32:9

An argument started among them as to which of them might be the greatest.”

Luke 9:43-46

It is an amazing testimony to the tenacity of indwelling sin, that not even a front row seat before the radiance of the glory of Christ can eradicate our pride and arrogance. We need to see the glory of Christ, but we need to see His glory in and through the cross in order to put sin to death.

Shortly after witnessing the transfiguration of Christ, James and John started to get cocky. Their close association with the one who would be enthroned as king went to their heads. But Jesus knew better what awaited Him in Jerusalem. His kingdom would not be established through worldly triumph, but rather through the cross. The glory of the cross was not the kind of glory the disciples were anticipating as they boldly approached Jerusalem.

Jesus tried to warn them. He exhorted them to let His words sink into their ears – “The son of man is going to be delivered into the hands of men.” But they were so certain that greatness was at hand that they could not, would not, understand what Jesus was talking about. They tasted power and authority. James and John’s behavior revealed their expectation that they would be among this king’s deputies. And they were already jockeying for position among the twelve, for surely Jesus would set an order of authority. If they were to secure a high position they need to start acting like the leaders they intended to become.

So they started policing the crowds with their authority. When someone tried to cast out demons apart from their authorization – they put a stop to it. When a Samaritan village refused to receive the King – they were ready to call fire down upon it.

James and John were among the inner circle of the inner circle. They had been chosen to follow the most amazing man in history. And though they never observed even a hint of arrogance exemplified in their master, and though had just recently seen Him shinning in His glory, nevertheless they became arrogant.

In the midst of their arrogance Jesus warned them that what they expected in Jerusalem was not going to happen – rather something they were not able to understand awaited them. Had they understood, their attitudes would not have been so completely inconsistent with their appointed positions. But they could not see it. Arrogance is like that – it blinds. It even blinds us to the glory of the cross. If we fall into the trap of thinking highly of ourselves, we fail to understand how the crucifixion is good news. If we arrogantly perceive ourselves as something great we cannot calculate how God could be glorified by going to the cross.

Arrogance blinds us to the glory of the cross, but the cross is the cure for blinding arrogance.

After Jesus died and rose again – after the cross – the disciples were changed. The boasting manifest on the road to Jerusalem ceased. In view of the cross there can be no boasting in one’s position. The cross crushes all vain anticipation of worldly power – and replaces it with eternal hopes and joyful satisfaction in the redeemer of souls. It is impossible to see the cross, to truly see it, and remain arrogant. The gospel of the cross smashes pride and replaces it with God-honoring, Christ-exulting, fellow-man-loving humility.

The process through which the disciples’ arrogance was killed and replaced with humility was indeed a painful one. Christ endured the pains of the cross – but the disciples suffered too. Those days leading up to the crucifixion and the days He was in the ground were dream-shattering, gut-wrenching, terrifying days. Unfortunately, pride and arrogance is rarely broken without similarly traumatic events. But God is wonderfully faithful to bring such events into our lives. I rejoice that he will not leave me in my pride. I might walk, for a season, as on a triumphal road to Jerusalem. Jesus patiently puts up with me along the road even as He reminds me of pride’s dangers.

Yet warnings often don’t have enough weight to break my pride, only a view of the cross can effectively overcome arrogance and replace it with humility. When the dark night of the soul arrives the foolishness of boasting becomes evident. And gloriously – at the same time that pride is crushed the eyes are opened to the glory of the cross. The gospel light shines into the heart with power. Yes, sin is painfully exposed – but through repentance the eyes of the heart are opened to the glory of God in the face of Christ. We see His perfection, His holiness, His righteousness, and His wisdom, and it delights the soul. God’s mercy exposes pride, and His beauty bestows humility.

Lord Jesus, thank you for your faithful wounds that heal. Thank you that the power of the cross – the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings is the road to seeing your glory. Keep my feet on your path. Grant me grace to walk straight. And with each step – whether smooth or rocky – let my eyes see your face before me. Amen.

Of all of Daniel’s great character traits described in this chapter, it is his humility that stands out so beautifully. It is said that Daniel was a handsome, brilliant, wise, and spiritual young man. He was selected from the best Israel had and he stood out high above his peers. He was chosen to serve the king. Now perhaps this honor escaped him, in as much as he was taken forcibly into this service. Daniel accepted his lot and began to study according to the will and direction of the king. But then a contention arose regarding the food and wine being served. It says that Daniel “made up his mind.” He was determined not to eat this food or drink this wine. He was prepared to stand his ground on this issue, and he stood on firm ground since he acted in order not to break the Lord’s dietary laws. God Himself was on Daniel’s side in this matter.

Now I, as a New Englander, should I have found myself in such a position, would likely have made a bold and adamant stand. I would probably come up with a slogan like “give me vegetables or give me death.” Perhaps I would organize a resistance movement and throw the king’s wine over the side of his ships in protest.

But Daniel humbly sought the commander and asked for permission. He did not demand. He did not refuse, he did not march straight into the king’s court and declare the food defiled. He asked the proper person, in the appropriate role for permission. When the commander seemed hesitant Daniel did not take that to be a signal that it was time for defiance, rather he continued his appeal and suggested a test. He respected the commander, and pursued his conviction with amazing humility, and faith in God.

O My soul, strive to be like Daniel, be stalwart in your convictions with regard to righteousness, but in God-honoring, Christ-exalting faith and humility.