Words from the Mount Part I

I gotta' wear shades...

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." — Matthew 5:3

Years ago, I walked into a nice restaurant feeling pretty good about myself.

New job. New city. Fresh fade. My future was so bright, I had to wear shades.

The hostess was young and beautiful. As I asked about a table, she smiled and asked me for my number.

I was flattered, but honestly, not entirely surprised. Charming. Fit. Successful. I even had an unassuming drawl. I was country before country was cool.

So I smiled back and patronized her… "You’re really cute, but I’m not interested in a relationship right now. I’m focused on myself and my career. It’s just not the right season."

She paused and looked at me strangely. Then she laughed… "Oh, you think I want to date you? No. I need your phone number so I can text you when your table is ready."

Completely obliterated, I asked, "You don’t have those little buzzers?"

"No," she replied, "This isn’t Cracker Barrel."

That moment revealed something about me that went much deeper than an inflated opinion of my haircut.

I lacked self-awareness.

I saw myself one way, while everyone else in the room saw me much more clearly. I had created an image of myself in my own mind and then interpreted everything through that image. I was so full of myself that I completely misunderstood what was happening around me. I was like Carly said, "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you…"

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Here is what I know: I am often blind to the pride that is most deeply rooted in me. I overestimate my wisdom, my strength, my goodness, and my importance. I assume I understand more than I do. I believe I am more capable than I really am. I lean heavily on myself and then call that leaning confidence.

Jesus begins the Sermon on the Mount [Matt 5] by confronting that illusion:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" [v3].

The Christian life does not begin with a man feeling good about himself. It begins when a man finally sees himself clearly.

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Someone you know needs the wild rumpus? Pull the trigger. Sharing is caring

This is the first Beatitude because it is the front door of the spiritual house. You cannot mourn your sin until you recognize your spiritual need [v4]. You cannot become meek while you are still defending your importance [v5]. You will not hunger for righteousness while you remain satisfied with yourself [v6].

The rebirth begins with need. The first [and last] step toward God is not saying, "Look what I have done." It is saying, "Lord, I need You."

Poverty of Spirit Is Not Low Self-Esteem

Jesus is not calling us to hate ourselves, suppress our personalities, or pretend we have no gifts. False humility says, “I am worthless. I have nothing to offer.”

Pride says, “I am sufficient. I do not need anyone.”

Poverty of spirit says, “Everything I have is a gift, and apart from Christ, I have nothing.”

It is not thinking less of your God-given value. It is recognizing the limits of your own ability. The poor in spirit do not deny their strengths. They simply refuse to trust in them.

Poverty of Spirit Is the Opposite of Self-Reliance

My natural tendency is to lean too heavily on myself.

I trust my instincts. I trust my experience. I trust my personality, work ethic, connections, and ability to make something happen. I may pray for God’s help, but only after my own strength has failed [multiple times].

That is not poverty of spirit. That is self-reliance with a little God-speak sprinkled in. To be poor in spirit is to recognize that I cannot produce spiritual life, transform my heart, conquer sin, or accomplish anything of eternal value through my own strength.

Jesus did not say, "Blessed are the competent, confident, and self-sufficient." He said, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." God’s kingdom belongs to those who know they cannot grasp it on the strength of their résumé.

We See Ourselves Clearly When We See God Clearly

We do not become humble by constantly staring at ourselves. We become humble by looking at God.

Isaiah saw the Lord high and lifted up and cried, "Woe is me!" [Isa. 6:5]. Peter saw the power of Christ and said, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord" [Lk. 5:8]. Paul got to the end of his life and was certain of two things: he was "the chief of all sinners…" [1 Tim. 1:15], and his life was "a drink offering ready to be poured out…" [2 Tim. 4:6].

The closer these men came to God, the less impressed they became with themselves.

Our pride survives through comparison. We compare ourselves to people who appear less successful, less disciplined, or less spiritual, and we walk away feeling pretty good. But when we compare ourselves to the holiness of God, the illusion collapses.

We stop asking, "Am I better than that man?” and begin asking, "How could a holy God show mercy to a sinner like me?"

Poverty of Spirit Makes Christ Precious

As long as we believe we are basically strong, good, and capable, Jesus will remain an accessory to our lives. But when we see the depth of our need, Christ becomes our only hope. The poor in spirit do not merely admire Jesus. They depend upon Him.

We do not approach Jesus with our accomplishments in hand. We come empty-handed, trusting His righteousness rather than our own.

Until we are poor in spirit, Christ will never be truly precious to us.

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That night at the restaurant, I walked in convinced I was the prize. I assumed the hostess wanted my number because of what I brought to the room. Her question exposed how badly I had misunderstood myself.

Pride causes us to overestimate our strength, our importance, and our ability. But an impoverished spirit helps us see clearly. It recognizes that everything we are and everything we have rests entirely in Christ.

Jesus is not giving us a list of attitudes we must manufacture in order to enter the Kingdom. He is describing the people who already belong to Him.

Believers are poor in spirit.

We entered the kingdom empty-handed, and we never graduate from our need. We begin the Christian life dependent upon Christ, and we remain dependent upon Christ. Our salvation rests in Him. Our strength rests in Him. Our moving and our very being rest in Him.

We do not begin by saying, "Apart from Christ, I can do nothing," and eventually mature into, "I’ve got it from here." The Galatians tried that… ask them how it went [Gal. 3].

Spiritual maturity is not becoming less dependent upon Jesus. It is becoming increasingly aware of how dependent we really are.

In that restaurant, I discovered I was not nearly as impressive as I imagined. I was not the catch. I was simply a hungry man waiting for a table.

And by the grace of God, that is exactly who I am today… a needy man, welcomed by grace, sustained by Christ, and dependent upon Him for everything.

For the King,

— Harp

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