He That Humbleth Himself
A Homily for the 17th Sunday After Trinity
The Rev. Dcn. Timothy Wilson
“For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” (Luke 14:11)
The setting of today’s Gospel relays our Lord’s invitation to dine in the house of a chief Pharisee. As He observes the guests jostling for the best seats, He exposes and illuminates something deeper than mere etiquette. He lays bare the condition of the heart. Pride, the craving for recognition and precedence, lies at the root of their striving. The longing to be noticed, an ambitious confidence that whispers to the heart that we deserve a higher place. But in a few simple words, Christ gives the law of His Kingdom: “Whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.”
You see, the Kingdom of God inverts the order of the world. To go up, one must go down. To reign, one must first serve. To live, one must first die. This is not only a moral command; it is the very pattern of salvation. It’s the way of the Cross. It’s the call to a humble walk. (Ephesians 4:1-6)
St. Paul writes from prison, “I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, with all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering.”
The Christian walk begins with lowliness. Before we can serve or speak, we must bow. Before unity can flourish in the Body of Christ, pride must be crucified.
St. Augustine once said, “If you ask me what the essential thing in the religion of Jesus Christ is, I shall reply: first, humility; second, humility; and third, humility.” (Letter 118 to Dioscorus). The first virtue of the Christian life is not brilliance, not zeal, and it’s not eloquence, but humility. Some of you may recall our catechesis from a few months ago, where we explored the seven deadly sins. We learned that pride closes the door of the soul, but humility opens it to grace.
When the Pharisees question His healing on the Sabbath, Jesus replies:
“Which of you shall have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and will not straightway pull him out on the sabbath day?” (Luke 14:5)
On one level, it is a simple rebuke of hypocrisy: if you would rescue your animal from a pit, why not a suffering man? But our Lord’s words, as so often, carry a deeper typological meaning.
The ass and the ox, say the Fathers, represent all of fallen humanity.
St. Ambrose of Milan explains that the ox signifies the Jew, accustomed to the yoke of the Law; the ass, the Gentile, unaccustomed to it. Both have fallen into the pit of sin, and Christ the Lord comes to lift them out, not waiting for another day. Why? For the Sabbath of grace has already dawned in Him.
St. Augustine draws the same parallel: “The ox knows his owner, and the ass his master’s crib.” He refers to Isaiah 1:3. He sees in this image both Jew and Gentile united at the manger, the crib of Christ, one people, redeemed by one Savior.
St. Gregory the Great adds that the ox and ass also represent the strong and the weak, the wise and the simple, both fallen and both redeemed by the mercy of Christ.
Thus, when Jesus asks who would not pull the ox or ass from the pit, He is, in type and figure, describing His own mission. The pit is sin and death; the Sabbath is the rest of salvation; and the pulling out is the redemption wrought by His Passion and Resurrection.
Our Lord Himself descends into the pit, into our humanity, our suffering, even our grave, to lift us up. The proud will not be lifted, for they will not deign to stoop low enough to be grasped. But the humble, who cry out from the depths, are raised into His rest. If we are to live the Gospel, we must kneel before its grace. Pride says, “I will climb to God.” Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? “I will like the Most High.” Humility says, “Lord, stoop to me.” “Lord, save me, a sinner.”
And Christ has stooped indeed. He has descended to raise both ox and ass, Jew and Gentile, strong and weak, into one Body. As Paul says: “There is one body, and one Spirit… one Lord, one faith, one baptism.”
In the Psalm appointed for today, Psalm 107, did you hear the echoes of this story of descent and deliverance:
“O give thanks unto the LORD, for he is gracious: and his mercy endureth for ever. Let them give thanks whom the LORD hath redeemed, and delivered from the hand of the enemy.” (vv. 1–2)
The psalmist speaks of those who “sat in darkness and the shadow of death,” those who “rebelled against the words of the Lord.” In pride, they fell into the pit. But in humility, they cried to the Lord and He delivered them from their distress.
The ox and ass of the Gospel, and the captives of Psalm 107, are the same souls: fallen humanity raised by mercy. The Psalm’s refrain could be the hymn of every heart lifted from the pit by Christ’s hand: “O give thanks unto the LORD, for he is gracious, and his mercy endureth for ever.”
Let me give you an image.
A man climbs a ladder, rung by rung, reaching for the heights. He believes that success, power, or knowledge will bring him to God. But when he reaches the top, he finds the ladder leaning against the wrong wall. All his effort, you see, has led him away from grace.
Then he hears Christ’s voice calling, “Come down.” So, he obeys, he descends, humbled, to the foot of the Cross, and there he finds what he sought all along. The ladder of pride, my friends, must be turned upside down to become the stairway or ladder of ascent.
This is the pattern of the Gospel: he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.
Notice that Jesus delivers this teaching at a table, a banquet.
How fitting, then, that He has given us His own feast, the Holy Communion, where the same law of humility governs.
At the Lord’s Table, there are no seats of honor. The rich feast beside the poor, the learned beside the unlearned, the priest beside the layman. All confess: “We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness.”
Yet in that very act of humbling ourselves, Christ exalts us. For He who lifted the ox and the ass from the pit lifts us too, out of sin, into fellowship with Himself.
Psalm 107 says, “He satisfied the empty soul, and filled the hungry soul with goodness.” (v. 9) We hear it in the Magnificat at Evening Prayer… “He hath showed strength with His arm; He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble and meek. He hath filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent empty away…” Why does Mary proclaim this? She proclaims this, “Because, (as Mary says) He that is mighty hath magnified me, and holy is His name!
What greater fulfillment of that promise than here, at His Table, where He feeds us with Himself, the Bread of Heaven, the Cup of Salvation?
At the altar, we take the lowest place; and the Master Himself says to us, “Friend, go up higher.”
Having been lifted up, we must walk in the same spirit of humility.
Don’t misunderstand, a humble heart is not self-loathing, but it is God-dependent. It forgives easily, it serves quietly, listens patiently, and speaks with gentleness.
The proud heart is like an impressive, but barren mountain.
The humble heart is like a valley, lowly but rich and fertile, always ready to receive the streams of grace that flow from above.
Christ, who lifted the ox and the ass, now calls us to lift others, to bear one another’s burdens, to draw the fallen from their pits, and to bind up the wounded with mercy.
Psalm 107 ends with thanksgiving: “Oh that men would therefore praise the Lord for his goodness, and declare the wonders that he doeth for the children of men!” (v. 15)
That, beloved, is the song of the redeemed, those who have been humbled and then exalted by grace.
And the final verse of this song shall be written and perfected when the Lord returns. Then, the proud will be brought low, and the meek will inherit the earth. Those who have knelt in humility at His Table will be invited to the eternal banquet of His Kingdom.
So, beloved, at this altar today, let us remember our Lord’s question: “Will you not lift the ox and the ass from the pit?”
For He has already done so for us. We were fallen, but He has lifted us. We were bound, but He has set us free.
We are gathered into one by the mercy of Him who is both Host and Savior, both Lord of the Sabbath and Lord of our souls.
And as we come to receive His Body and Blood, may we hear Him say to us, as He said in the parable: “Friend, go up higher.”
For here, in this humble feast, the proud are abased, the lowly are exalted, and the thankful cry resounds through the ages:
“O give thanks unto the LORD, for he is gracious, and his mercy endureth for ever.” (Ps. 107) Amen. +
