But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by any human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. For I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then each one will receive his commendation from God. | 1 Corinthians 4:3-5
On Sunday, we looked at what we are declaring when we address God as: OUR FATHER, WHO ART IN HEAVEN. One of the points was that the gospel shifts the purpose of this life from self-actualization to being defined apart from ourselves. In the great transaction, Our sin is cast on Jesus and we are covered in His righteousness. WE cease to be the focus.
At first glance, this doesn’t seem very fulfilling. The idea of self-denial does not strike us as a satisfactory goal. It feels like giving up: settling for something less than we could gain through our efforts. Self-denial strikes as being forced to lose ourselves in order to gain Christ.
In one sense, this is true; there is an aspect of dying of self that is part of sanctification. What if the part that dies is actually the part keeping us from being our truest selves? What if self-denial is necessary for self-actualization?
This is the topic that Tim Keller takes on in his brilliant little book: The Freedom of Self-Fortgetfulness. This amazing little book (less than 50 pages) summarizes the Christian teaching on humility. I appreciate use of the term self-forgetfulness, because this is self-denial re-purposed for a post-modern audience. His point (based on 1 Corinthians 3.21-4.7) is that finding your identity – and justification – in Jesus allows you to no longer view every moment of your life as a potential failure as success. You don’t have to worry about how others judge you, or even how you judge yourself! Instead, you can find a great confidence and humility as a sinner saved by grace. Keller summarizes it this way:
C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity makes a brilliant observation about gospel-humility at the very end of his chapter on pride. If we were to meet a truly humble person, Lewis says, we would never come away from meeting them thinking they were humble. They would not be always telling us they were a nobody (because a person who keeps saying they are a nobody is actually a self-obsessed person). The thing we would remember from meeting a truly gospel-humble person is how much they seemed to be totally interested in us. Because the essence of gospel-humility is not thinking more of myself or thinking less of myself, it is thinking of myself less. Gospel-humility is not needing to think about myself. Not needing to connect things with myself. It is an end to thoughts such as, ‘I’m in this room with these people, does that make me look good? Do I want to be here?’ True gospel-humility means I stop connecting every experience, every conversation, with myself. In fact, I stop thinking about myself. The freedom of self-forgetfulness. The blessed rest that only self-forgetfulness brings.
Coming to God in prayer is a means of this self-forgetfulness. To come to God as Father is to admit need. To call Him ours is to confirm that our identity is rooted in Him. To define Him as sitting on the throne with all authority is to confess submission. The act of bringing our daily struggles into His presence is a way of giving ourselves to Him, trusting that He will refine us and remove the parts that prevent us from being who He created us to be. Prayer is how we actively submit ourselves to God. In it, receive much more than we could ever give up.