LIVE IN THE HUMILTY OF CHRIST
One of the greatest tragedies in the church today is that we’ve attempted to build Christian lives without anchoring them in the cornerstone of humility. We sing worship songs, we serve in ministries, we speak truth, and we even sacrifice time and energy—but far too often, we bypass the very heart of Christ. And in missing His heart, we miss the intimacy He offers. That nearness to Jesus, the communion with His Spirit, is the very center of the gospel (John 15:4–5).
Why is this happening? Because we’ve misunderstood greatness. In the Kingdom of God, significance is not achieved by climbing upward but by bending low. Jesus taught this principle openly. He embodied it completely. And He requires nothing less from those who follow Him (Luke 22:26–27).
Paul urges believers to adopt the same attitude Jesus displayed—an attitude not of grasping power but of surrendering it. Though He was equal with God, Jesus emptied Himself and took the form of a servant. He stooped low, even to the point of death on a cross (Philippians 2:5–8). This is the mindset He commands us to adopt.
And what does this mind look like in our lives? It looks like putting others ahead of ourselves. It looks like choosing the back seat instead of the spotlight. It looks like valuing people over platforms. It looks like Jesus first, then others, and lastly, ourselves. That’s where true joy is found—Jesus, Others, Yourself (Romans 12:10).
Let’s lean in now and look more deeply at how Jesus taught humility—not only with His words, but with His example.
The Master with a Towel
If there was ever a moment that unveiled the heart of Jesus, it was in the upper room. The King of all creation rose from the table, wrapped a towel around His waist, and knelt down to wash the feet of His disciples—dusty, tired, undeserving men (John 13:4–5). This wasn’t ritual. It was a living sermon. No words, yet filled with divine clarity.
Imagine it. The same hands that carved the depths of oceans and raised the heights of mountains were now scrubbing grime from feet that would soon scatter in fear. And when He was finished, He looked at them and said, “If I, your Teacher and Lord, have stooped to wash your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet” (John 13:14).
This is what true greatness looks like. In the world’s eyes, authority demands to be served. But in God’s kingdom, authority bows low and washes feet (Matthew 20:26–28). The highest kind of leadership is servant-leadership.
Real greatness doesn’t stand above—it kneels below. The eternal King came not with a crown on His head, but with a towel in His hand (Mark 10:45).
Nothing draws us nearer to the heart of God than laying down our own desires to embrace His. When we surrender our will, our comfort, and our status for the good of others, we echo the humility of Christ. We are not placed on this earth to chase our own pleasures, but to lift high the name of Jesus by serving others in His name (Romans 12:1; Galatians 5:13).
You want to be like Jesus? Get a towel.
The Child in the Middle
One day, the disciples found themselves tangled in a debate—who among them was the greatest? They expected Jesus to settle it with a ranking system or a pecking order. Instead, He brought a child to stand in the center of the room and said, “Unless you become like this child, you won’t even enter the Kingdom” (Matthew 18:3).
This was not just about innocence or youth. It was about position and posture. A child in that culture had no status, no clout, no voice in society. And that’s precisely Jesus’ point.
He wasn’t looking for impressive résumés, lofty titles, or polished credentials. He was looking for people who were small in their own eyes—who depended on Him fully, who weren’t trying to make a name for themselves (James 4:6).
The one who humbles themselves like a child, who doesn’t demand attention or grasp for recognition, is the one heaven considers great (Luke 9:48).
Whether God places you in the spotlight or in the shadows, your task is the same: walk humbly with your God (Micah 6:8). Every promotion and every position is from the hand of the Lord. He raises up and brings low. He teaches us through surrender and then lifts us when the time is right (1 Samuel 2:7; 1 Peter 5:6).
The path into God’s kingdom—and the path to usefulness within it—is paved with humility. That’s how God does business in His kingdom.
The Forgotten Message in Today’s Church
We have taught faith, preached grace, and proclaimed power. But how often do we talk about humility?
Let me ask you: When was the last time you prayed, “Lord, make me humble”? Keep me humble. Take me to the school of humility and teach me what I need to know. He is the Master Teacher. Learn in the school of Christ to be humble.
You see, humility is not thinking less of yourself—it’s thinking of yourself less. It’s stepping off the throne of your own life and giving God the keys. And the truth is, most of us don’t even realize how much pride we still carry until God begins to strip it away.
Think of others. Do what God calls you to do. Walk in the light of His love. And give yourself totally to the service of God in the service of others.
The lack of humility may be the greatest spiritual blind spot of our time.
The Beatitudes: Kingdom Keys for the Broken
The very first public words out of Jesus’ mouth in the Sermon on the Mount were like a holy wrecking ball to the proud heart.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven… Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:3, 5).
Who gets Heaven? The spiritually bankrupt.
Who inherits the earth? The gentle.
Let me say it plainly: God’s Kingdom is not for the proud but for the poor—those who know they bring nothing to the table but a need for mercy.
Heaven is not earned. It’s received with empty hands.
A Crown Is Always Preceded by a Cup
When James and John approached Jesus with a bold request—asking to sit at His right and left in glory—they were aiming for recognition and reward (Mark 10:37). They desired position, but Jesus redirected the conversation toward pain. Instead of thrones, He spoke of a cup—a cup filled with suffering and surrender. “Are you able to drink the cup I’m about to drink?” He asked them (Mark 10:38).
They were looking for a crown. He offered them a cross.
Then Jesus revealed the divine path to true greatness: “If you want to be great, become a servant. If you want to be first, become a slave to all” (Mark 10:43–44). And to make it even more clear, He held up His own life as the pattern: “The Son of Man didn’t come to be served, but to serve—and to give His life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).
This is the divine irony of the Kingdom: greatness is found in downward movement. The way up is down. God isn’t offended when we desire to live meaningful, impactful lives—but He insists that true greatness is achieved through humility and sacrifice (Matthew 23:11–12).
Jesus doesn’t rebuke our longing to be useful or significant—He simply redefines the path. He tells us the road to the throne runs through the basin, the towel, and the thorns (John 13:14; Hebrews 12:2).
The Kingdom of God turns the world’s ladder upside-down. To ascend, we must descend.
Take the Low Seat at the Table
Jesus once told a parable during a dinner gathering. He watched as guests scrambled for the best seats, eager to be seen and honored. And then He gave this wisdom: “When you’re invited to a feast, take the lowest seat. Let the host be the one to call you higher” (Luke 14:10).
This was more than social advice—it was Kingdom truth.
Jesus then declared a foundational law of heaven: “Everyone who lifts themselves up will be brought low, but the one who lowers themselves will be lifted high” (Luke 14:11). This principle is echoed throughout Scripture: God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6). And if we willingly choose humility, He will lift us up at the right time (1 Peter 5:6).
It’s always better to humble yourself than to be humbled by God. Jesus didn’t just teach this—He lived it. Though He was God, He emptied Himself and took the posture of a servant, humbling Himself to the point of death on a cross (Philippians 2:6–8).
In His example, we see our invitation: follow Him down, and trust God to lift you up.
In God’s economy, elevation always follows surrender. Promotion comes after bowing low. So whether you’re seated at a banquet table, walking into a meeting, or standing behind a pulpit—take the low seat first.
Because the One who sees in secret knows exactly when—and how—to say, “Friend, move up higher.”
The Pharisee and the Broken Man
Two men stood before God in the temple. One man prayed proudly, listing all the good he had done—fasting, tithing, staying “better” than others. The other man wouldn’t even lift his eyes to heaven. He beat his chest in sorrow and cried out, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner” (Luke 18:13).
To the shock of the crowd, Jesus made it clear: it was the second man—the broken one—who walked away justified before God, not the one with the spiritual résumé (Luke 18:14).
God doesn’t judge as people do. Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). The one who recognizes his own spiritual poverty and throws himself on the mercy of God is the one who receives grace. A contrite and humble spirit is never turned away by the Lord (Isaiah 57:15).
You may be unseen by people, unrecognized by men—but if you walk in humility, you are great in the eyes of God. The applause of heaven is not for the impressive but for the surrendered. Live for an audience of One. Let your path wind through the valley of faithfulness, with God watching from His holy hill, delighting in your quiet obedience (Psalm 33:13–15).
You see, God isn’t moved by church attendance alone or by a perfect outward reputation. He isn’t impressed with degrees, platforms, or theological vocabulary. What He seeks is a heart that trembles at His Word and knows its need for His mercy (Isaiah 66:2; Micah 6:8).
Humility is the native tongue of heaven. It’s the language spoken in the courts of grace.
Greatness Measured by Service
Jesus reserved some of His strongest rebukes for the Pharisees—those who loved the spotlight, the applause of crowds, and the best seats in the synagogue (Matthew 23:6–7). They loved to be seen doing religious things but missed the heart of the matter.
To His disciples, Jesus gave a radically different vision: “The greatest among you will be the one who serves” (Matthew 23:11). Not the one with the loudest voice, but the one with the cleanest towel. Not the one who’s admired, but the one who stoops low.
In God’s Kingdom, greatness isn’t found in grabbing attention—it’s found in giving yourself away. If you want to make a difference, don’t climb a stage—carry a basin.
Even the smallest act done in His name will not be forgotten (Matthew 10:42). God sees what is done in secret and will reward it openly (Matthew 6:4). He promotes the humble and brings down the proud (James 4:10). What matters most is not your role, but your reason—why you serve, not just how.
God has given each of us gifts, and we are called to use them faithfully, not for personal glory but to reflect His grace and love (1 Peter 4:10–11). Whether you’re leading a crowd or encouraging one weary soul, if your heart is set on Christ and others, it matters in eternity.
In the upside-down economy of heaven, the one who kneels to serve is the one who stands tallest before God.
You’re Not Just a Servant of God—You’re a Servant of Others
It’s a noble thing to call yourself a servant of the Lord—but Jesus calls us to go even further. He taught that true servanthood shows itself in how we treat one another. After all, the greatest among us is the one who serves everyone else (Matthew 23:11).
Paul echoed this same truth when he instructed believers not to operate from selfish motives, but in humility, to consider others as more significant than themselves (Philippians 2:3). That kind of heart leads to selfless action.
What does this look like in daily life? It’s choosing to listen more than we speak. It’s giving someone else the spotlight and being content to serve behind the scenes. It means carrying another person’s burden, even when your own shoulders are already tired (Galatians 6:2). It’s putting someone else’s need above your own, just as Jesus did when He took the form of a servant and became obedient even to death (Philippians 2:7–8).
Serving others in humility doesn’t mean denying your gifts or pretending you’re not capable. It means acknowledging that everything you have comes from God and using it for His glory, not your own (1 Corinthians 4:7). Don’t shrink back from your calling—rise to it with humility, knowing that the Giver of the gift also deserves the credit (Romans 12:6–8).
It may not be glamorous. But it is godly. And it is great in the eyes of heaven.
God Pours His Power Into the Lowest Places
Here’s a holy mystery: God does not empower the proud—He fills the surrendered. Scripture teaches that when we humble ourselves beneath God’s mighty hand, He will raise us up in His perfect timing (1 Peter 5:6).
You humble yourself—God will do the lifting.
If you want to be filled with the Spirit, start by emptying yourself. The Lord fills those who are hungry, but sends the self-satisfied away empty (Luke 1:53). Just as water always flows downhill, so does the grace of God. It rushes toward the lowest places, flooding the lives of those who know they are nothing apart from Him.
So stay low. Stay open. Stay surrendered.
Fix your gaze on Jesus, especially from the quiet, overlooked places of life. Offer your heart, your talents, and your plans to Him. Be willing to lay aside your own will and embrace His (Luke 22:42). Walk humbly, considering others ahead of yourself—not to impress men, but to love like Christ (Romans 12:10).
When God finds a heart that is emptied of pride, broken of self-sufficiency, and eager for His presence, He will never pass it by (Isaiah 66:2).
Final Words: The Downward Call to Higher Life
The world calls us to chase greatness by striving, achieving, and promoting ourselves. But Jesus calls us to a different path: surrender, service, humility, and trust (Matthew 20:25–28).
We are not here to elevate our own names, but to exalt the name above every name—Jesus Christ. Whether we eat, drink, speak, or serve, everything must be done to glorify Him (1 Corinthians 10:31). He is to be first in our thoughts, first in our decisions, and first in our desires (Colossians 1:18).
The Holy Spirit isn’t leading us toward popularity or applause. He’s leading us to a narrow road—the road that begins at the foot of the cross and winds through foot-washing basins, hidden service, and costly obedience (Matthew 7:13–14).
God sees not just what you do but why you do it (1 Samuel 16:7). He knows the thoughts and motives of every heart. And when we do what we do out of deep love for Him, it becomes worship—an offering that pleases Him (Hebrews 13:16).
If Christ is your focus, and love is your reason, you will walk in humility without even trying. Fix your eyes on Him. Think more about Jesus and less about yourself. Serve others in His name, and leave the results to Him.
And what’s the reward? Intimacy with Christ. The joy of His presence. The power of His life flowing through yours (John 15:5,11).
So don’t be afraid of the low place. That’s where Jesus kneels. The way up is still down. Even if your work is visible to many, don’t serve for their praise. You don’t have to hide what God has given you—just use it for His glory, not your platform (Matthew 6:1).
Wherever God places you—whether in leadership or in the background—stay humble and make Christ known.
So today, don’t just admire the humility of Jesus. Ask Him to reproduce it in you.
Because the road to the higher life always goes through the valley.
Bryan Dewayne Dunaway