I’ve been reading Kenneth Bailey’s “Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes”. One of the things I’ve been struck with again and again is how humble Jesus is. Not just the whole incarnation God humbling himself to become a man thing. That was amazing.
But even the kind of man that Jesus was is amazing. He was incredibly humble.
In the gospels we see again and again how Jesus puts himself in the position where he needs other people. He doesn’t barge in and fix everything (which, as God, he has the right and the power to do). He doesn’t snap his fingers and heal everyone. He asks the blind man, “What can I do for you?” He asks the crippled man, “Do you want to be healed?” He doesn’t impose his will on others (his good, pleasing and perfect will, I might add).
He also puts himself in positions where he genuinely needs other people. By doing so, he affirms their dignity. He asks Peter, “Can I borrow your boat to preach from? And can you keep it close to shore for me while I speak?” He asks the woman at the well “Can you give me something to drink?” He’s tired and thirsty. And he doesn’t have a bucket. He needs her help. It’s not some artificial ruse to get her to listen to his message. He’s actually tired and thirsty and he actually needs some water.
Bailey quotes Daniel T. Niles, a great Sri Lankan theologian who says Jesus was “a true servant, because he was at the mercy of those he came to serve…This weakness of Jesus, we his disciples must share. To serve from a position of power is not true service but beneficence.”
This is a bit uncomfortable for someone like me who loves fixing things. I like being smart. I love having the answer. I love sharing my opinions. I hate needing help from people. I like doing things myself. Even when I’m in positions where I would genuinely need other people, I’d rather try it myself than have to ask someone for help–which basically is another way of saying I’m proud.
It’s scary to think about in terms of missions, and community development. In both cases, we tend to think that the whole reason we are here is because we have something that other people don’t have. We have something they need (skills, education, the gospel, technology). We tell ourselves, “Oh, we’re learning things from the people in the community every day!”
But… really? Do we really, truly think that way? Or do we just say that? Do we really, truly think that the people we’ve come to serve have something that we really need? And do we put ourselves in positions where we really need that from them?
Niles goes on to talk about how Christian missionaries and development workers have often gone “in strength”– with medicines, or new technology, or education– and in doing have stripped the gospel of it’s greatest power– it’s weakness and foolishness. (Not to “cultural-type”, but I think this is one example of why we need to hear the voices of the global body of Christ, since the point this Sri Lankan theologian makes is one I don’t often hear Western theologians making.)
As community development workers and missionaries, we’re pretty confident the things we’re offering will help people (otherwise I don’t think we’d be offering them). But if Jesus, who certainly had the best thing in the world on offer, could come in a position of weakness and service, could ask for real help from other people– we certainly should do the same.
So this is what I’m thinking about this week:
- What does the community of Sweetwaters have to offer me that I need to put myself in a position to receive?
- What can my friends offer me, that I have been too proud to place myself in need of?
- In what ways am I (or my mission’s agency, or my organization) insulating ourselves from needing the people we’ve come to work with? How are we supplying all our own needs rather than depending on the community?
- What do my friends who don’t know Jesus have that I need? How am I unconsciously being proud in my emphasis on their “lostness” or “sinfulness” instead of humbly receiving from them?