GOD’S PROMISE
God resists the proud, But gives grace to the humble.
—1 Peter 5:5 NKJV
When he wasn’t flying his private jet across the Atlantic or watching sunsets from the deck of one of his yachts, he was living a life of luxury inside his ten-thousand-square-foot Lexington Avenue penthouse in New York City.
His yacht Bull cost seven million dollars. His jet cost twenty-four million. He had a home in France, a beach home in Montauk, and a house in Palm Beach. He had boats and cars. His wife had furs and designer handbags, Wedgewood china, and Christofle silver. When it came to decor, she spared no expense. Gold sconces lined the wallpaper. Central Asian rugs covered the floors. Greek and Egyptian statues competed for the approval of guests.
Everyone wanted to know him. People stood in line to shake his hand. People like Steven Spielberg and Elie Wiesel. To stand in his Manhattan office was to stand in the epicenter of investment success.
Or so it seemed until the morning of December 10, 2008. That’s when the charade ended. That’s when Bernie Madoff, this generation’s most infamous scam artist, sat down with his wife and two sons and confessed that it was a “giant Ponzi scheme . . . just one big lie.”1
Over the next days, weeks, and months, the staggering details became public knowledge. Madoff had masterminded a twenty-year long shell game, the largest financial crime in US history. He had swindled people out of billions of dollars.
His collapse was of biblical proportions. In short order he was stripped of everything. No money. No future. No family. One of his sons committed suicide. His wife went into seclusion. And seventy-one-year-old Bernie Madoff was sentenced to spend the rest of his life as prisoner number 61727-054 in the Federal Correction Complex of Butner, North Carolina.
Why did he do it? What makes a man live a lie for decades? What was the trade-off for Madoff?
In a word, status. According to one biographer:
As a kid, he was spurned and humiliated for what was perceived to be his inferior intellect. . . . He was rejected by one girl after another . . . relegated to lesser classes and lesser schools. . . .
But he excelled at making money, and with it came the stature that once had eluded him.2
Stature. Madoff was addicted to adulation. He was hooked on recognition. He wanted the applause of people, and money was his way of earning it. He elbowed and clawed his way to the top of the mountain, only to discover that its peak is slippery and crowded. If only he had known this promise: “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5 NKJV).
His story exemplifies the passage, but if you want to see an even more dramatic picture of the downfall of pride, open your Bible to the book of Daniel, and read the story of Nebuchadnezzar. The money and descent of Madoff was small potatoes compared to the vast possessions and sudden free fall of the king of ancient Babylon.
He overthrew Jerusalem in 605 BC. Among his Hebrew captives were four young men, Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. After some years he built a ninety-foot-tall golden statue in his honor and commanded the people to bow down before it. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused. So the king heated the furnace to seven times its normal temperature and threw them into the fire. When they came out unsinged, he was amazed. But did King Nebuchadnezzar humble himself?
Sadly, no.
Years passed. Nebuchadnezzar was enjoying a time of peace and prosperity. His enemies were held at bay. His wealth was secure. Yet in the midst of all this, he had a dream. His fortune-tellers could not explain it. But Daniel could. Nebuchadnezzar described the dream:
I looked, and there before me stood a tree in the middle of the land. Its height was enormous. The tree grew large and strong and its top touched the sky; it was visible to the ends of the earth. Its leaves were beautiful, its fruit abundant, and on it was food for all. Under it the wild animals found shelter, and the birds lived in its branches; from it every creature was fed. (Dan. 4:10–12)
Nebuchadnezzar went on to describe how the tree was cut down by a messenger from heaven. Its branches were trimmed and fruit scattered. Only a stump remained. The voice from heaven then made a pronouncement:
Let him be drenched with the dew of heaven, and let him live with the animals among the plants of the earth. Let his mind be changed from that of a man and let him be given the mind of an animal, till seven times pass by for him. (vv. 15–16)
Daniel listened to the dream and gulped. He was astonished and troubled by what he heard.
At this point in history Nebuchadnezzar had no peers. He was the uncontested ruler of the world. Babylon rose out of the desert plains like a Manhattan skyline. The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, which he built for his wife, were one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. The walls of his royal palace were 320 feet high and 80 feet thick. Two four-horse chariots could ride abreast on them.3 The mighty Euphrates River flowed through the city. During Nebuchadnezzar’s forty-three-year rule, greater Babylon’s population reached as high as half a million people.4 The king was part oil baron, part royalty, part hedge-fund billionaire. Were he alive today, he would dominate the Forbes list of billionaires.
But all of this was about to end.
Daniel told him:
Your Majesty, you are that tree! . . .
. . . You will be driven away from people and will live with the wild animals; you will eat grass like the ox and be drenched with the dew of heaven. Seven times will pass by for you until you acknowledge that the Most High is sovereign over all kingdoms on earth and gives them to anyone he wishes. The command to leave the stump of the tree with its roots means that your kingdom will be restored to you when you acknowledge that Heaven rules. (vv. 22, 25–26)
Nebuchadnezzar thought he was in charge. He believed he ran his world, perhaps the whole world.
Daniel urged him to repent.
Therefore, Your Majesty, be pleased to accept my advice: Renounce your sins by doing what is right, and your wickedness by being kind to the oppressed. It may be that then your prosperity will continue. (v. 27)
But did Nebuchadnezzar change?
Twelve months later, as the king was walking on the roof of the royal palace of Babylon, he said, “Is not this the great Babylon I have built as the royal residence, by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?” (vv. 29–30)
God gave the king another year to climb down from his pompous throne. But he never did. Oh, the proliferation of pronouns. “I have built,” “my mighty power,” “my majesty.” The king was all about the king.
God had sent him at least three messages. The message of the fiery furnace: Jehovah God is greater than fire. The message of the dream: Today’s massive tree is tomorrow’s ugly stump. The warning of Daniel: Humble yourself before it is too late.
Nebuchadnezzar refused to listen.
Even as the words were on his lips, a voice came from heaven, “This is what is decreed for you, King Nebuchadnezzar: Your royal authority has been taken from you. You will be driven away from people and will live with the wild animals; you will eat grass like the ox.” (vv. 31–32)
The king became an ancient version of Howard Hughes: corkscrew fingernails, wild hair, animalistic.
He was driven away from people and ate grass like the ox. His body was drenched with the dew of heaven until his hair grew like the feathers of an eagle and his nails like the claws of a bird. (v. 33)
When the mighty fall, the fall is mighty. One minute he was on the cover of Time magazine; the next he was banished like a caged creature. And we are left with a lesson: God hates pride.
Do you see a person wise in their own eyes?
There is more hope for a fool than for them. (Prov. 26:12)
Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes
and clever in their own sight. (Isa. 5:21)
The LORD detests all the proud of heart. (Prov. 16:5)
I hate pride and arrogance,
evil behavior and perverse speech. (Prov. 8:13)
When pride comes, then comes disgrace. (Prov. 11:2)
Why the strong language? Why the blanket condemnation? How do we explain God’s abhorrence of the haughty heart?
Simple. God resists the proud because the proud resist God. Arrogance stiffens the knee so it will not kneel, hardens the heart so it will not admit to sin. The heart of pride never confesses, never repents, never asks for forgiveness. Indeed, the arrogant never feel the need for forgiveness. Pride is the hidden reef that shipwrecks the soul.
Pride not only prevents reconciliation with God; it prevents reconciliation with people. How many marriages have collapsed beneath the weight of foolish pride? How many apologies have gone unoffered due to the lack of humility? How many wars have sprouted from the rocky soil of arrogance?
Pride comes at a high price. Don’t pay it. Choose instead to stand on the offer of grace. “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5 NKJV). To the degree God hates arrogance, he loves humility. Isn’t it easy to see why? Humility is happy to do what pride will not. The humble heart is quick to acknowledge the need for God, eager to confess sin, willing to kneel before heaven’s mighty hand.
God has a special place for the humble of heart.
Though the LORD is supreme,
he takes care of those who are humble,
but he stays away from the proud. (Ps. 138:6 NCV)
The high and lofty one who lives in eternity,
the Holy One, says this:
“I live in the high and holy place
with those whose spirits are contrite and humble.
I restore the crushed spirit of the humble
and revive the courage of those with repentant hearts.”
(Isa. 57:15 NLT)
Wonderful freedom is found in the forest of humility. I experienced it sometime back as I sat in a circle. There were twenty of us in all. A beautician sat to my right. A lawyer to my left. One fellow wore tattoos, another a gray flannel suit. One arrived on a Harley. A couple showed up late. More than one of us arrived in a grumpy mood. All ages. Both sexes. Several races. We were an assorted lot. With one exception we had nothing in common.
But that one exception was significant. We were confessed lawbreakers. Wrongdoers every one of us. Each person in the room had received a piece of paper from a uniformed officer. So there we sat in a Defensive Driving class.
I’d dreaded the day all week. Who wants to share a Saturday with a roomful of strangers reviewing the Texas Driver Handbook? But I was surprised. After a short time we felt like friends. The bonding began with the introductions. Around the circle we went, giving our names and confessions.
“I’m Max. I went forty-five miles per hour in a thirty-mile-per-hour zone.”
“I’m Sue. I made an illegal U-turn.”
“Hello, I’m Bob. Got caught passing in a no-passing zone.”
As each one spoke, the rest nodded, moaned, and dabbed tears. We felt one another’s pain.
No masks. No make-believe. No games or excuses. Costumes checked at the door. Pretense left at home. Charades and shams were unnecessary. Might as well admit our failures and enjoy the day. So we did, and the humility created relief. This was God’s plan all along.
God gives grace to the humble because the humble are hungry for grace.
I’m wondering if you’d be willing to join me in a prayer of repentance, repentance from arrogance. What have we done that God didn’t first do? What do we have that God didn’t first give us? Have any of us ever built anything that God can’t destroy? Have we created any monument that the Master of the stars can’t reduce to dust?
“To whom will you compare me?
Or who is my equal?” says the Holy One.
Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens:
Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one
and calls forth each of them by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
not one of them is missing. (Isa. 40:25–26)
I like the joke about the arrogant man who took God’s preeminence to task. He looked up into the heavens and declared, “I can do what you can do! I can create a person out of dust! I understand the systems of life and science!”
God accepted the offer. “All right,” he told the buffoon. “Let’s see what you can do.”
The man reached down and took a handful of dirt. But before the man could go further, God interrupted him. “I thought you said you could do what I did.”
“I can.”
“Then,” God instructed, “get your own dirt.”
Humility is healthy because humility is honest.
Sometime ago I partnered with musician Michael W. Smith for a ministry weekend in Asheville, North Carolina. The retreat was held at The Cove, a beautiful facility that is owned and maintained by the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association.
A few hours before the event, Michael and I met to go over the weekend schedule. But Michael was so moved by what he had just experienced that he hardly discussed the retreat. Michael had just met with Billy Graham. The famous evangelist was, at the time, ninety-four years old. His thoughts turned to what might be said about him at his funeral. He told Michael that he hoped his name would not be mentioned.
“What?” Michael asked.
“I hope only that the name of the Lord Jesus be lifted up.”
Billy Graham has preached to 215 million people in person and hundreds of millions of others through media. He has filled stadiums on every continent. He has advised every US president from Truman to Obama. He has consistently been near the top of every most-admired list. Yet he doesn’t want to be mentioned at his own funeral.
Can it be that when we realize God is so big, we finally see how small we are?
Those who walk in pride God is able to humble. But those who walk in humility God is able to use.
King Nebuchadnezzar learned this lesson. It took seven years, but he got the point.
At the end of that time, I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven, and my sanity was restored. Then I praised the Most High; I honored and glorified him who lives forever. . . .
. . . Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and exalt and glorify the King of heaven, because everything he does is right and all his ways are just. And those who walk in pride he is able to humble. (Dan. 4:34, 37)
You might want to underline that last sentence. Those who walk in pride God is able to humble. It’s better to humble yourself than to wait for God to do it for you.