“And he said, ‘Hagar, servant of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?’” (Gen 16:8, NIV)

It sounds like a pretty innocuous question to someone who’s running away, but then again God doesn’t seem to ask innocuous questions (at least, not in the Bible)!  Fast forward more than a thousand years, to shortly before the crucifixion, and in John’s gospel we read this:

“Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal… and began to wash his disciples’ feet…” (Jn 13:3-5, NIV)

If this were one of my English homework assignments, I’d be asked to ‘compare and contrast’ these two situations.  Well, not wanting to waste all the hours spent doing inane English essays, here goes…

Hagar was pregnant with the baby who, at the time, looked certain to be the eventual heir to Abraham and his whole household.  Because of that, she became arrogant, looking down on Sarah who was barren.  She forgot her place as a servant (where she had come from).  And when asked by the angel of the Lord as to where she was going, she replied that she was just running away – which I suppose is another way of saying, “I don’t know!”  Interestingly, the angel of the Lord tells Hagar two things: firstly, to return and submit to her mistress, Sarah – which is where she came from, literally and figuratively; and secondly, that her descendants would so increase that they would be too numerous to count (Gen 16:10) – which was her future, where she was going.

Jesus illustrated the opposite of Hagar.  He knew where he had come from and where he was going, and instead of being arrogant he humbled himself and proceeded to wash his disciples’ feet.  Instead of running away from the crucifixion that was at hand, he faced it head on.

There’s something amazing about knowing where we come from, and where we’re going.  And it affects our whole journey.

– Joey

Whenever I’ve heard people talk of a ‘great man (or woman) of God’, I’ve always imagined someone who was a great evangelist, who prayed a lot, had a great prophetic ministry or was an anointed preacher, healer or miracle worker – or all of the above.  But the Bible doesn’t point to any of these qualities as a mark of a great person.  Instead, it says:

‘Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’ (Mt 18:4, NIV).

It seems to me to be very ironic that the people who have the most to boast about are the very people who wouldn’t boast.  I suppose that’s just God’s way.

And actually, being humble and having nothing to boast about is quite liberating – it means not having to justify yourself, or protect a reputation, or worry about losing whatever it is that makes you ‘great’.

Jesus said:

‘Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’  (Matt 11:29, NIV)

In offering rest, Jesus invites us to take up his yoke, and to learn from him – because there’s something about his gentle nature, his humility of heart, that provides rest for the soul.  Jesus didn’t need to strive for greatness, or to prove it to others, so neither should we.

It’s a long journey to greatness, and we’ll need rest along the way.  Humility is key to both.

– Joey

Like sunshine and rain, God’s grace is free.  It encompasses everyone, and we can’t do anything to get one bit more or less.  And like sunshine and rain, it falls from the heavens down to earth, from God to man.

And yet, somehow, not everyone enjoys this amazing grace.  Rather, God ‘opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.’  (Jas 4:6 and 1 Pet 5:5, both quoting Prov 3:34, NIV).

The humble are singled out as the recipients of God’s grace.  I’d always wondered how that could be, since the whole idea of grace is that it’s freely available to everyone and not based on merit.  Fortunately, Jesus gave what I think is a good illustration of how it all works.

In Lk 14:8-11, Jesus talked about the seating at a wedding feast to make a point about humility.  He advised against seating ourselves at the place of honor, because the host might make us give up our seats for someone more distinguished, and we’d be humiliated.  Instead, his advice was to ‘“…take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’  Then you will be honored in the presence of all your fellow guests.”’  (Lk 4:10, NIV)

What struck me about this parable one day was this: the further down we seat ourselves (the more we humble ourselves), the more room we have to receive God’s grace.  If we sit halfway down, God can only elevate us halfway up.  But if we sit all the way down, God’s grace can lift us all the way up.

And if we seat ourselves in the best place to begin with, we leave no room for God’s grace to work – nowhere for God to lift us up, to show us his favour.  (And that’s when he makes room, putting us in our proper place).

It’s like how Jesus died for everyone – the ultimate act of grace – but not everyone accepts that they need such a sacrifice for their sins.  And so they don’t make space in their hearts for the grace that is freely given.

God’s grace truly is like the rain and sunshine that fall on everyone – we just need to stretch out our hands and open our eyes to it.  We just need to let go of stubborn pride – and the more we do, the more space we’ll have to take in his amazing grace.

– Joey