Perhaps you’ve found yourself in a conversation where someone expresses surprise — and a hint of judgment — that you were not aware of a recent item of news.

In our information-rich world, we can feel that we have a duty to be informed, to know what’s happening, and, inevitably, to have an opinion. Yet if we stop to examine these assumptions, this duty appears absurd. It is impossible for anyone to know everything that is happening today, much less to have a thoughtful opinion about these events. What would we do with all this information anyway?

The prickly, unorthodox nineteenth-century writer Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862) might serve as a surprisingly helpful guide in developing a richer account of what we ought to attend to.

Living Beyond Ephemera

Thoreau didn’t have to deal with social media and television, but he did live through the news revolution sparked by the telegraph and the steam-powered rotary printing press. Such technologies were as prone to spreading trivial distractions and misinformation as are the digital technologies we rely on today.

Thoreau jokes, for instance, that when the transatlantic telegraph cable is in place, “perchance the first news that will leak through into the broad, flapping American ear will be that the Princess Adelaide has the whooping cough.” Hence he urges his readers to step out of this stream of ephemera and attend to more lasting truths:

If you chance to live and move and have your being in that thin stratum in which the events that make the news transpire — thinner than the paper on which it is printed — then these things will fill the world for you; but if you soar above or dive below that plane, you cannot remember nor be reminded of them.

In many respects, his advice parallels what the apostle Paul writes in Philippians 4:8: “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” If we are rooted in these deeper verities, we will be better able to discern which contemporary events are important for us to know about and what a proper response to them might entail.

Tragedies Close to Home

Thoreau’s advice entails a withdrawal from the full flood of information that would otherwise overwhelm us. Yes, this might mean that we will often “miss out” on the things other people are talking about, but we shouldn’t necessarily view such ignorance as a vice.

The novelist and essayist Barbara Kingsolver, in an essay detailing why she and her family don’t watch TV, describes a time when she missed out on an event that dominated the national consciousness. John Kennedy Jr. had been killed in an airplane crash, and her friend was shocked that she hadn’t heard about this tragedy. Kingsolver wasn’t apologetic for her ignorance and instead told her friend that this event made “no real difference in my life”:

It’s not that I’m callous about the calamities suffered by famous people; they are heartaches, to be sure, but heartaches genuinely experienced only by their own friends and families. It seems somewhat voyeuristic, and also absurd, to expect that JFK Jr.’s death should change my life any more than a recent death in my family affected the Kennedys. . . . On the matter of individual tragic deaths, I believe that those in my own neighborhood are the ones I need to attend to first, by means of casseroles and whatever else I can offer. I also believe it’s possible to be so overtaken and stupefied by the tragedies of the world that we don’t have any time or energy left for those closer to home, the hurts we should take as our own.

“When we are overwhelmed by far-off tragedies, we are less able to attend properly to those events close at hand.”

Kingsolver’s concluding warning parallels Thoreau’s advice. When we are overwhelmed by far-off tragedies and controversies, we are less able to attend properly to those events close at hand, events to which we are more able — and perhaps even obligated — to respond.

Distracted from Our Chief End

One of the essential challenges to cultivating proper attention comes from the fact that we are bombarded with so much information that clamors for our eyes and hearts. As Joseph Pieper (1904–1997) puts it, “The average person of our time loses the ability to see because there is too much to see!”

The necessary response to this abundance is to withdraw, at least partially: silence the phones, shut the computer, switch off the TV. This is, in part, why Thoreau made his famous two-year foray to Walden Pond. He needed to step away from the bustle of Concord life to recalibrate his sight. Even Jesus practiced this mode of withdrawal. As Luke records, throughout his public ministry Jesus regularly “would withdraw to desolate places and pray” (Luke 5:16). By withdrawing from what seems most pressing in the moment, we gain the space needed to attend to what matters for eternity.

“By withdrawing from what seems most pressing in the moment, we gain the space needed to attend to what matters for eternity.”

This perceptual recalibration was Thoreau’s explicit purpose in going to Walden Pond. As he states his intentions in Walden, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” A few sentences later, he specifies that he hoped this deliberate mode of living would enable him to determine whether “the chief end of man” really is “‘to glorify God and enjoy him forever.’”

Thoreau’s neighbors — and many Christians today — would “somewhat hastily” assent to this doctrine, but it is difficult to follow through on this purpose when we are distracted and overwhelmed by all the information sent our way.

A Thousand Painted Butterflies

For Thoreau, the fruit of his withdrawal was a renewed appreciation for the glory of God in creation. He took detailed notes of when different plants blossomed or fruited and when the ice on Walden first formed in the fall and melted in the spring; this was the news he wanted to follow closely.

In a journal entry written near the end of his life, he describes the experience of sitting “in the woods admiring the beauty of the blue butterfly.” While most books about insects that he has found are written for farmers and detail the insects’ instrumental goods or evils for agricultural crops, Thoreau insists that insects are valuable for other reasons:

The catechism says that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever, which of course is applicable mainly to God as seen in his works. . . . Come out here and behold a thousand painted butterflies and other beautiful insects which people the air.

Thoreau’s claim that the catechism’s answer to the question of man’s chief end “is applicable mainly to God as seen in his works” stretches the bounds of orthodoxy, but delighting in the beauties of God’s creation is certainly part of how we ought to glorify him.

How Walden Changed the World

Watching butterflies might seem less serious than attending to the weighty matters that fill the newspaper each morning. Yet while Thoreau missed out on plenty of the news that occupied the minds of his fellow citizens — including, perhaps, whether the princess caught the whooping cough — he perceptively and redemptively responded to many of the fundamental issues of his day.

Thoreau’s incisive critiques of imperial wars, racial slavery, and unjust economic structures had a profound influence in the years leading up to the Civil War, and they went on to inspire people from Mohandas Gandhi to Martin Luther King Jr. Crucially, the speeches and essays in which he developed these ideas were only possible because of the kind of attention that he honed at Walden Pond, an attention that withdrew from the noise of the moment to exult in the glorious beauty of butterflies.

Thoreau’s example suggests that if we want to improve the quality of our engagement with the news, we will very likely need to reduce the quantity of information we consume. When we step back from the information fire hose, we renew our ability to see God at work in the world and become better able to recognize how he might be calling us to join in his work.

What particular abilities has God given you? When God wove you together before you were born, and when he made you new in Christ, he chose gifts for you — special resources, experiences, and abilities for you to steward and practice. Do you believe that? If so, do you know what they are? Can you name some specific ways you’re striving to use them and grow in them?

If you believe in Jesus, he has given you something of his power and ability. Whoever you are, and however “gifted” you feel compared to others, you have abilities from God that are meant to make a difference in the lives of others.

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. (1 Corinthians 12:4–7)

In everyone means “in you.” To each means “to you.”

Where Abilities Wither

The reality is that while all of us have particular potential for good, not all of us realize that potential. Some squander the miraculous and personal gifts of God. They sit, as it were, on shelves in the basement, decorations of a life focused elsewhere.

The apostle Paul charges the church in Rome, “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them” (Romans 12:6). So what keeps us from using our gifts well? What keeps you from putting to work the grace-filled abilities God has given you? When we squander our God-given resources and abilities, we often don’t realize we’re squandering them. This is part of Satan’s craft. If he can’t convince us to reject God altogether, he’ll draw us away from him in a hundred smaller ways. He’ll embed some subtle temptation, barely discernible, that slowly corrupts our impulses and buries our potential.

“Most spiritual gifts die not by outright rejection, but by distraction.”

Most spiritual gifts die not by outright rejection, but by distraction. These temptations become spiritual cul-de-sacs, comfortable places to live, but leading nowhere. Paul passes by four of these cul-de-sacs in Romans 12.

Selfishness Street

Perhaps the most common way we waste these gifts is by assuming they are about us and not about meeting the needs of others. Paul’s charge to use our abilities comes directly after this remarkable statement of our identity:

As in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. (Romans 12:4–5)

The abilities God gives us are not mainly for advancing our careers or unlocking favorite hobbies or giving us a sense of achievement or fulfillment; they’re for blessing and supporting the body of Christ, the church. You’re good at what you’re good at because the church needs that, in some way, shape, or form — because the church needs you.

This is not how the world thinks. What are gifts if they’re not mine to use and spend however I want? Like the 5-year-old hovering over his host of Matchbox cars, we survey our abilities, resources, and time, and declare, “Mine!” God sees gifts so differently. What are gifts, he asks, if they die on the vines of self? No, gifts are only truly experienced and enjoyed when we hold them loosely and gladly say to God, “Yours!”

Pride Boulevard

Beyond a selfishness that blinds us to the needs of others, we might squander our gifts because we think too highly of ourselves. A couple of verses earlier, Paul writes,

By the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. (Romans 12:3)

Sometimes gifts spoil because we’re too focused on self; other times, because we think the needs we might meet are below us. We assume we’re too gifted for quiet, ordinary, thankless love. Pride inflates our heads, lifting us out of reality and making real needs seem small, even trivial, next to our conceited priorities. God-given abilities, however, suffocate at that elevation. They breathe and flourish when they’re rooted in real, ordinary lives with real, ordinary needs. Our gifts won’t reach the heights of their potential if we refuse to use them on our knees.

“Our gifts won’t reach the heights of their potential if we refuse to use them on our knees.”

Paul tucks a weapon against this gift-smothering pride in the verse quoted above: think sober thoughts about yourself, he says, “each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.” The abilities you have are assigned by God. Even the faith you have is assigned by God. “What do you have that you did not receive?” (1 Corinthians 4:7). Anything you do well, remember, you do well only by the creativity and generosity of God.

Worldliness Lane

A third cul-de-sac may be the most prevalent and subtle: worldliness. We waste or misuse our gifts because we prize and prioritize what the world does, rather than seeking first the kingdom of God and his righteousness (Matthew 6:33). It’s far too easy to fall in line with the crowds casually strolling away from the cross. “Do not be conformed to this world,” Paul warns, “but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Romans 12:2).

What does the wrong kind of conformity look like? We spend the best parts of ourselves at the office, rather than at home and in church. We’re more excited about our hobbies than we are about heaven. We find the most comfort and “rest” by scrolling through the leftovers of others’ lives on social media. We stay up to date on our favorite shows and movies, but struggle to find time to sit and meet with and enjoy God.

When our hearts are in all the wrong places, it’s no wonder when our gifts — our time, our attention, our resources, our abilities — consistently land in the wrong places too (or never land at all). Those who use their gifts well reject what the world would teach them to do with their gifts. They carry and spend their gifts where God leads them through his word, prayer, and the fellowship of other believers.

Passivity Circle

The last cul-de-sac along this narrow path of faithfulness brings us back to Romans 12:6: “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them.” Like an especially fertile weed, passivity poisons the gardens of giftedness.

How many God-given abilities shrivel because we’re too preoccupied or insecure or lazy to even try? We had an impulse to serve in this way or that, but we kept putting it off. We knew that person might need a call or a visit, but we assumed someone else would reach out. We heard the church was looking for someone to cover that base, but we kept finding excuses to stay in the dugout. Paul says to the church — young and old, male and female, new believers and older saints, healthy and hurting, outgoing and shy, musical and, well, not — “You have abilities (yes, even you), so use them.” Find some way, any way, to use whatever you do well to care for someone else.

Being gifted in these ways doesn’t mean you’re more gifted than everyone else or that God doesn’t expect us all to teach and serve and exhort (and give and lead in various ways); it just means that there’s evidence God has given you greater measures of grace in certain areas to meet the needs of others. “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace” (1 Peter 4:10). Whatever experience or ability God has assigned to you, start using it.

Wait, What Are My Gifts?

Some, however, still may not know what their gifts are. Perhaps you’ve never really thought of yourself as “gifted,” and can’t point to any particular skill or knowledge you would consider a gift. How does someone begin to uncover his or her gifts?

In Romans 12:6–8, Paul does give us a few examples: Some are gifted to teach, so find someone to teach, even if it’s three or four 6-year-olds in Sunday school. Some are gifted to serve, so find someone to serve, even if it’s helping out around the house for a widow who sits a few pews away. Some are gifted to exhort — to encourage, to challenge, to correct, to inspire — so find someone to exhort, even if it’s the guy faithfully teaching three or four 6-year-olds.

A lot more could be said here, but you might start with a simple question: What do you enjoy doing well that a ministry or family in your church might need? What do other people thank you for doing? It could be teaching, or encouraging teachers. It could be leading music, or setting up equipment. It could be serving meals, or cleaning up meals. It could be hosting big gatherings, or befriending lonely people. It could be greeting guests as they come in on Sunday morning, or faithfully praying for fellow members. Every church, however small, has real and significant needs. Sometimes the needs are even bigger in smaller churches because there are fewer leaders and resources. What’s something you do well that meets the needs of others?

If your gifts have wandered into a cul-de-sac and begun to wither, it’s not too late to revive them and put them to use. Lay aside the pride, selfishness, worldliness, and passivity that devour what God has given you. Liberate your gifts from the cul-de-sacs that suppress them. Identify something you do well by God’s grace, and ask him to help you find a need to meet.

Before I try to define what I mean by “the uncommon virtue of humility,” let me give three clarifications that limit and direct my effort.

Clarification 1: Only uncommon humility is virtuous.

First, I want to get in step with the direction that President Rigney set for us on January 19 when he began this series of messages. During his talk, he explained to us what he meant by “the uncommon virtues.”

First he defined virtue as the habitual exercises and inclinations of the heart for good things. He said that virtue consists in the beauty of those heart-exercises and of the actions that flow from them. Then he described what he meant by uncommon virtues. First, and least importantly, he said that these virtues are uncommon because they are in short supply both in our culture and in the church. But mainly, and most importantly, what he meant is that uncommon virtues are those habitual exercises of the heart rooted in what makes us Christian. In other words, the uncommon virtues flow from our union with Jesus Christ through the work of the Holy Spirit.

Therefore, by definition, no unbeliever exercises any uncommon virtue. They exercise common virtues, which have external similarities to the uncommon virtues, but they are radically different because they have no roots in a person’s relation to Christ. They are like a shell of the virtue, with the virtue’s soul removed.

Common Virtue

Most of us have learned to distinguish God’s “common” grace from his “special” or “saving” grace. God’s common grace enables unbelieving people to perform common virtues. At times the New Testament calls these common virtues “good” — that is, good with respect to the temporal, horizontal benefits that they are intended to achieve.

For example, in 1 Peter 2:14 it says that the emperor has sent governors “to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good.” Well, “good” in the mind of the pagan emperor is not what we mean by uncommon virtues, which are truly good, in every sense. The Bible is very radical in saying, for example, that “whatever does not proceed from faith is sin” (Romans 14:23).

In other words, even though from a human standpoint there are common virtues, from the ultimate standpoint of what is truly virtuous in the eyes of God, all common virtues are sin. They do not flow from union with Christ by faith through the Holy Spirit. They are not done in reliance on Christ. Christ’s word is not their guide. And they are not done for his glory. They are sin.

‘Good Sin’

Therefore, in all our ethical thinking about and all our moral assessments of culture and daily life in this world, we must have a category for “good sin,” or “sinful good.”

If you think carefully and biblically, that’s not double talk. It is a “good” thing that my Muslim neighbor does not burn my house down. I am thankful for that “good.” But a Muslim does nothing out of reliance upon Jesus Christ and his work, nor is a Muslim guided by his word, acting for his glory. And so Paul says it is sin. It brings about a temporal good, but it dishonors the most glorious Person in existence — Jesus Christ.

So, in accord with President Rigney’s direction, I am riveting my focus on the uncommon virtue of humility, not the common virtue of humility. I am seeking to define humility in a distinctly Christian way — namely, in relation to Jesus. That’s my first clarification.

Clarification 2: Humility flourishes when we do not fixate on it.

Here’s my second clarification. In an article for Christianity Today in 2008, Tim Keller said, “Humility is so shy. If you begin talking about it, it leaves.” If you took that literally, it would mean it is impossible to talk humbly about humility. I don’t think that’s true, and I don’t think Tim Keller thinks that’s true. Jesus and Paul and Peter and James — indeed, virtually every biblical writer — talks about humility in one way or another, and we would not want to impute to them arrogance in their effort to say true things to us about humility.

“Christian humility flourishes in the human soul when we stand before the Himalayas of Christ’s grandeur.”

What I think Tim Keller is trying to communicate instead is this: Christian humility flourishes in the human soul when we are standing in front of a window that looks onto the Himalayas of Christ’s grandeur. And Christian humility vanishes when we close the window and stand in front of a mirror, trying to see the authenticity of our humility. It flourishes when we are looking away from it, to Christ, and it hides when we are looking directly at it.

So my goal is not primarily to focus your attention, in a mirror-like way, on your humility, but to provide you with an understanding of humility that will drive you to the windows of God’s word, which reveal the greatness of Christ. That’s my second clarification.

Clarification 3: Context determines meaning.

Here’s my third clarification. Words are dumb things. They communicate nothing clear or distinct until they are used in a context. When I say, “. . . until they are used,” I am implying a user. Therefore, when I prepare to talk about humility, I have to ask first: “Who’s the user of the words about humility, and what is the context?” Because there is no clear, distinct meaning of the word humility — or in any words about humility — apart from the user and the context.

For example, the false teachers at Colossae use the typical Greek word for humility in the New Testament, tapeinophrosunē, to promote asceticism and harshness to the body. So Paul says in Colossians 2:18, “Let no one disqualify you, insisting on asceticism [tapeinophrosunē] and worship of angels.” In other words, Paul is saying, “Don’t be tapenophrosunē — don’t be humble — according to that use of the word!”

Then in Colossians 3:12, Paul says, “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, tapeinophrosunē [humility].” Now Paul is saying, “Do be humble according to this use of the word — according to my use of the word, in my defining context.” So before I can give a talk on the uncommon virtue of humility, I have to ask: “According to who’s usage?”

Also, as an important aside, here’s another clarification about words. When I am trying to understand someone’s use of a word in a context — and I will talk about context in just a moment — I don’t care ultimately about the word. I care ultimately about the reality that the user of the word is trying to communicate by the way he uses his words. Not only are words dumb things, but they are penultimate things, not ultimate things. They are signs. They point away from themselves to realities.

What we want to know when trying to understand words is the realities they are pointing to. My wife is named with a word, Noël. I care very little about the word Noël. I care ultimately about the reality, the person, that the word is pointing to — my wife. I care very little about the word love, but I care ultimately about the reality.

Now the last thing I have to ask is, “In what context?” My aim in this talk is to communicate to you my understanding of the reality of the uncommon virtue of humility as communicated by God, through inspired writers, by the way they use words, in several biblical contexts. So I’m going to commend to you a composite definition or description of the uncommon virtue of humility. I believe it is a faithful portrayal of the reality of humility according to the inspired usage of words in several contexts.

This is risky, because I’m drawing on dozens of passages of Scripture for this composite definition, and I can only take you to a couple of these passages. So I invite you to test this definition whenever you read all the other texts relating to humility. As you read, ask: “Is this definition the essence of humility, and what makes it distinctively Christian? What makes it uncommon?”

Defining ‘Humility’

Let me give you my definition or description of this reality, and then I will take you to some biblical texts. The uncommon virtue of humility is the disposition of the heart to be pleased with the infinite superiority of Christ over ourselves in every way. And because we still have a fallen sin-nature in this world, that humility also includes the reflex of displeasure toward all the remnants of our old preference for self-exaltation, with all its insidious manifestations.

Notice carefully, I am not defining humility primarily in terms of our response to our self-exalting, sinful nature. I am defining humility primarily in terms of our response to the superiority of Christ over us in every way. The way we respond to our sinful love of self-exaltation is a reflex of our awakening to the beautiful superiority of Christ — or it’s not Christian. The greater our pleasure in the superiority of Christ over us, the more sorrowful our awareness that there remains in us the ugly craving for self-exaltation.

And the reason this is important to stress is that someday we will be completely delivered from every remnant of the love of self-exaltation. We will be finally purified to sin no more! And in that day, when there is no sin whatsoever to regret — to humble us — we will still be humble.

“Pleasure in Christ’s superiority will last forever.”

For our humility consists not essentially in brokenheartedness over preferring self-exaltation, but rather in being pleased that Christ is infinitely superior to us in every way. And that pleasure in his superiority will last forever.

Roots and Fruits

Notice also that I’m not locating the uncommon virtue of humility in the roots or in the fruits of humility. The roots of humility are (1) the infinite superiority of Christ and (2) the spiritual perception of that superiority by the eyes of the heart.

And the fruits of humility are the endless overflow of attitudes and words and actions that come from being glad that Christ is superior to us in every way. For example, Paul says in Philippians 2:3, “But in humility, count others more significant than yourselves.” He does not equate humility with its fruit. The fruit is counting others worthy of your lowly, sacrificial, self-denying service.

So between the roots and fruits of humility, I’m saying that the uncommon virtue of humility is the disposition of the heart to be pleased with the infinite superiority of Christ over ourselves in every way. It’s the heart’s gladness that Jesus is infinitely greater than we are in every way, mingled in this life with the groaning that self-exaltation still competes for our affections. For now in this life, the uncommon virtue of humility will always be a groaning gladness and a glad groaning.

Humility in Scripture

Now let’s turn to some passages of scripture to see if this description of humility represents the mind of God in those passages.

Isaiah 2: Gladness in God’s Exaltation

We will start with the prophet Isaiah, in the second chapter. I know this passage is not directly about Jesus Christ. But I’m going to argue that what the prophet says here about God and pride and humility are intentionally transferred over to the Lord of lords, Jesus Christ, in the New Testament. Let’s begin in Isaiah 2:8, with the indictment of Judah.

Their land is filled with idols;     they bow down to the work of their hands,     to what their own fingers have made.So man is humbled,     and each one is brought low —     do not forgive them!Enter into the rock     and hide in the dustfrom before the terror of the Lord,     and from the splendor of his majesty.The haughty looks of man shall be brought low,     and the lofty pride of men shall be humbled,and the Lord alone will be exalted in that day.

For the Lord of hosts has a day     against all that is proud and lofty,     against all that is lifted up — and it shall be brought low;against all the cedars of Lebanon,     lofty and lifted up;     and against all the oaks of Bashan;against al the lofty mountains,     and against all the uplifted hills;against every high tower,     and against every fortified wall;against all the ships of Tarshish,     and against all the beautiful craft.And the haughtiness of man shall be humbled,     and the lofty pride of men shall be brought low,     and the Lord alone will be exalted in that day.And the idols shall utterly pass away.And people shall enter the caves of the rocks     and the holes of the ground,from before the terror of the Lord,     and from the splendor of his majesty,     when he rises to terrify the earth.

In that day mankind will cast away     their idols of silver and their idols of gold,which they made for themselves to worship,     to the moles and to the bats,to enter the caverns of the rocks     and the clefts of the cliffs,from before the terror of the Lord,     and from the splendor of his majesty.     when he rises to terrify the earth.Stop regarding man     in whose nostrils is breath,     for of what account is he? (Isaiah 2:8–22)

I draw out two inferences from these words. First, God’s purpose in the world is that his splendor and majesty be exalted as superior over all human power and beauty and manufacture and craft, and over everything that man has made as a means of his own self-exaltation. Three times Isaiah refers to God’s thrusting forward “the splendor of his majesty” (Isaiah 2:10, 19, 21). Twice he says, “The Lord alone will be exalted in that day” (Isaiah 2:11, 18). This is the purpose of God in creation and history: to see that the splendor of his majesty is exalted above everyone and everything.

The second inference is the effect of that purpose, namely, as Isaiah says twice, “The haughty looks of man shall be brought low, and the lofty pride of men shall be humbled” (Isaiah 2:11, 17). And we can hear in Isaiah 2:22 the cry for this not to be the end of the story. The ultimate goal is not the punishment of pride, but a return to humility: “Stop regarding man in whose nostrils is breath, for of what account is he?” In other words, “Stop the insanity of being so pleased with what your fingers can make, and be pleased with the splendor and majesty of your God. The Lord alone is going to be exalted. Everything else is coming down.”

So when Isaiah writes, “The haughtiness of man shall be humbled, and the lofty pride of men shall be brought low” (Isaiah 2:11, 17), essentially he is saying, “Repent. Turn from your love affair with the work of your hands. Bemoan your arrogant idolatry. The Lord alone will be exalted. Be pleased with his exaltation! Be pleased with his infinite superiority! Let his exaltation be your gladness, your boast. ‘Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord’ (2 Corinthians 10:17).”

Philippians 2: Joy in Jesus’s Superiority

Now let’s go to Philippians 2:9–11, where this divine purpose to be exalted over all reality is transferred to Jesus for the glory of God the Father, with the aim that every knee will bow — in other words, with the aim of Christ-exalting humility.

Therefore, God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Philippians 2:9–11)

God exalted Christ “above every name.” That is shorthand for Isaiah 2:11: “The Lord alone will be exalted in that day.” That is, Christ alone — now God incarnate — will be exalted in that day. And the implications for man? “Every knee will bow.” Everybody is going down. Everybody humbled. But not everybody saved.

So who then will be saved? Which of the knee-benders will be saved? Answer: Those who go down gladly. Those who are pleased with the superiority of Christ — pleased with the universal Lordship of Jesus. Those who say with Paul in the next chapter: “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” — of knowing Christ Jesus my infinite superior (Philippians 3:8). Paul’s treasure was to know Christ as superior to him in every way, his infinite superior.

You can begin to sense the practical implications of this if you simply name some of those superiorities that we love, that we are glad about: Infinitely superior in grace and mercy and love. Infinitely superior in knowledge and wisdom. Infinitely superior in power and governance. Infinitely superior in goodness and righteousness and holiness. Infinitely superior in authority and freedom. And penetrating through all of these is his infinitely superior greatness and beauty and worth. He is infinitely superior in glory.

2 Corinthians 4: Treasure in Jars of Clay

To have the uncommon virtue of humility is to see Christ’s glory and to be pleased that it is infinitely superior to our own. According to 2 Corinthians 4:4–6, this is how it happens: Our blindness is taken away, and we see “the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ.” We see the infinite superiority of Christ in greatness and beauty and worth.

“If you long for humility, beware of standing in front of the mirror to test your authenticity.”

And then in 2 Corinthians 4:7, Paul calls Christ’s glory our treasure. The glory of Christ is what we cherish. It is what pleases us. “We have this treasure [this glad sight of the glory of Christ] in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God.”

So I am commending to you a definition of the uncommon virtue of humility for you to test. Take it to every text on humility and see if this is not the essence of what is being said and of what makes humility distinctively Christian, uncommon:

The uncommon virtue of humility is the disposition of the heart to be pleased with the infinite superiority of Christ over ourselves in every way. It’s the heart’s gladness that Jesus is infinitely greater than we are, mingled in this life with the groaning that self-exaltation still competes for our affections.

If you long for this uncommon virtue, beware of standing in front of the mirror to test your authenticity. Go to the windows of God’s word, fling them open with everything you are learning in this school, and gaze on the all-satisfying superiorities of Christ.