Please take a moment and consider your faith walk. Are you proud of your relationship with God? Do you sometimes consider yourself to be better than others who claim to be Christians but seem often to stumble? Have you ever thought to yourself that you are serving God truly well?
If you answered, honestly answered, any of those questions in the affirmative, I urge you to stop reading here and go at once to your Bible. Turn to Luke’s Gospel and prayerfully read the passage in verses 9-14 of chapter 18.
I recall, from my motorcycling days, that the people I was most wary of on the streets and highways of America were not the guys driving 18-wheelers, nor teenagers in fast cars, nor even little old men and women so shrunken by age that they could hardly peer over their steering wheels. Some of these were dangerous, of course, but most seemed to be careful drivers. The ones who concerned me, often frightened me, were the drivers of cars that displayed ‘Christian’ bumper stickers – the more stickers, the more careful I was when in their vicinity.
Why in the world would I be so concerned about drivers who proclaimed their Christian faith for all the world to see? As a motorcyclist, my worry was due to what seemed to be an almost universal tendency of these drivers to be blissfully unaware of what was going on around them. They would dart about, shifting from lane to lane, hit the brakes or accelerate suddenly for no apparent reason, make turns without signaling and so on, as though they were the only persons on the road. Was their unpredictable driving the result of arrogance? Were they so secure in their relationship with God that they had no concerns for ordinary prudence when driving? Did they believe that God would watch over them, so they did not need to? Whatever was behind it, as a biker, they worried me.
Now, I am well aware that the bumper sticker people, as a group, likely drove no better and no worse than the vast majority of other drivers on the highways. But they were an identifiable group, made so by the bumper stickers that proclaimed, often with ostentatious humility, that they were Christians.
I was riding motorcycles long before God called me out of Egypt. While still in spiritual darkness, I was not impressed by the faith these people proclaimed on their bumpers, but by what I considered to be their arrogance in proclaiming it. Why should I care if God wasn’t finished with them yet? Who cared if they were not perfect, just saved? As far as I was concerned, if they wanted to believe in that religious stuff, okay. But why advertise? Were they declaring, with their cliché bumper sticker sayings, that they were better than folks like me? Now, as a believer who no longer rides motorcycles, I view those bumper stickers differently. I know that our Christian faith is not something that can be demonstrated by wearing jewelry in the shape of little crosses, or by cleverly worded bumper stickers, nor even by punctuating our conversation with Christian epithets such as “Amen,” or “Praise God.” Often, these things seem to me to be a form of boasting, much as the Pharisee in the Lucan parable boasted of being better than others. The way to truly manifest our relationship with our Lord is by what we do in His name. The person with a couple of “Jesus saves” bumper stickers on his car may or may not be a true believer, only God can know for certain. However, the person who manifests Christ in what he says and does most likely is in a saving relationship with Jesus.
What follows is a little article by Andrew Murray, a man of God who ministered in South Africa a century or so ago. After reading it, I invite each reader to ask himself two questions: Am I a bumper sticker Christian or a true child of God? How do I manifest my Christianity?
We hear a great deal of seekers after holiness and professors of holiness, of holiness teaching and holiness meetings. The great test of whether the holiness we profess to seek or to attain is truth and life will be whether it be manifest in the increasing humility it produces. In the creature, humility is the one thing needed to allow God's holiness to dwell in him and shine through him. In Jesus, the Holy One of God who makes us holy, a divine humility was the secret of His life and His death and His exaltation; the one infallible test of our holiness will be the humility before God and men which marks us. Humility is the bloom and the beauty of holiness.
The chief mark of counterfeit holiness is its lack of humility. Every seeker after holiness needs to be on his guard, lest unconsciously what has begun in the Spirit be perfected in the flesh, and pride creep in where its presence is least expected. Two men went up into the temple to pray: the one a Pharisee, the other a publican. There is no place or position so sacred but the Pharisee can enter there. Pride can lift up its head in the very temple of God, and make His worship the scene of its self-exaltation. Since the time Christ so exposed his pride, the Pharisee has put on the garb of the publican, and the confessor of deep sinfulness equally with the professor of the highest holiness, must be on the watch. Just when we are most anxious to have our heart the temple of God, we shall find the two men coming up to pray. And the publican will find that his danger is not from the Pharisee beside him, who despises him, but the Pharisee within who commends and exalts. In God's temple, when we think we are holiest of all, in the presence of His holiness, let us beware of pride. "Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them." (Job 1:6).
"God, I thank Thee, I am not as the rest of men, or even as this publican." It is in that which is just cause for thanksgiving, it is in the very thanksgiving, which we render to God, it may be in the very confession that God has done it all, that self finds its cause of complacency. Yes, even when in the temple the language of penitence and trust in God's mercy alone is heard; the Pharisee may take up the note of praise, and in thanking God be congratulating himself. Pride can clothe itself in the garments of praise or of penitence. Even though the words, "I am not as the rest of men," are rejected and condemned, their spirit may too often be found in our feelings and language towards our fellow worshipers and fellow men.
Would you know if this really is so, just listen to the way in which churches and Christians often speak of one another. How little of the meekness and gentleness of Jesus is to be seen. It is so little remembered that deep humility must be the key-note of what the servants of Jesus say of themselves or each other. Is there not many a church or assembly of saints, many a mission or convention, many a society or committee, even many a mission away in heathendom, where the harmony has been disturbed and the work of God hindered, because men who are counted saints have proved in touchiness and haste and impatience, in self-defense and self-assertion, in sharp judgments and unkind works, that they did not each reckon others better than themselves, and that their holiness has but little in it of the meekness of the saints? In their spiritual history men may have had times of great humbling and brokenness, but what a different thing this is from being clothed with humility, from having an humble spirit, from having that lowliness of mind in which each counts himself the servant of others, and so shows forth the very mind which was also in Jesus Christ.
"Stand by...for I am holier than thou!" What a parody on holiness! Jesus the Holy One is the humble One: the holiest will ever be the humblest. There is none holy but God: we have as much holiness as we have of God. And according to what we have of God will be our real humility, because humility is nothing but the disappearance of self in the vision that God is all. The holiest will be the humblest. Alas! though the barefaced, boasting Jew of the days of Isaiah is not often to be found—even our manners have taught us not to speak thus—how often his spirit is still seen, whether in the treatment of fellow saints or of the children of the world. In the spirit in which opinions are given, though the garb be that of the publican, the voice is still that of the Pharisee: "O God, I thank Thee that I am not as other men."
And is there, then, such humility to be found, that men shall indeed still count themselves "less than the least of all saints," the servants of all? There is. "Love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, seeketh not its own." Where the spirit of love is shed abroad in the heart, where the divine nature comes to a full birth, where Christ the meek and lowly Lamb of God is truly formed within, there is given the power of a perfect love that forgets itself and finds its blessedness in blessing others, in bearing with them and honoring them, however feeble they be. Where this love enters, there God enters. And where God has entered in His power, and reveals Himself as All, there the creature becomes nothing. And where the creature becomes nothing but humble towards the fellow creature. The presence of God becomes not a thing of times and seasons, but the covering under which the soul ever dwells, and its deep abasement before God becomes the holy place of His presence whence all its words and works proceed.
May God teach us that our thoughts and words and feelings concerning our fellow men are His test of our humility towards Him, and that our humility before Him is the only power that can enable us to always be humble with our fellow men. Our humility must be the life of Christ, the Lamb of God, within us.
Let all teachers of holiness, whether in the pulpit or on the platform, and all seekers after holiness, whether in the closet or the convention, take warning. There is no pride so dangerous, because none so subtle and insidious, as the pride of holiness. There grows up, all unconsciously, a hidden habit of soul, which feels complacency in its attainments, and cannot help seeing how far it is in advance of others. It can be recognized, not always in any special self-assertion or self-laudation, but simply in the absence of that deep self-abasement which cannot but be the mark of the soul that has seen the glory of God (Job 42:5,6; Isa. 6:5). It reveals itself, not only in words or thoughts, but in a tone, a way of speaking of others, in which those who have the gift of spiritual discernment cannot but recognize the power of self. Even the world with its keen eyes notices it, and points to it as proof that the profession of a heavenly life does not bear any special heavenly fruits.
0 brethren! let us beware. Unless we make the increase of humility our study, we may find that the only sure mark of the presence of God, the disappearance of self, was all the time wanting. Come and let us flee to Jesus, and hide ourselves in Him until we be clothed upon with His humility. That alone is our holiness.
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