Ours is a spiritual journey that mirrors the physical one our Israelite ancestors took to the Temple. They came up to Jerusalem singing and chanting the Psalms of Ascent, with the goal of entering more fully into the presence and power of YHWH, the Living God. I believe this unique grouping of psalms reflects that divinely designed journey.

These are not techniques to manipulate God or principles that teach you how to earn or receive your salvation, which is freely given by His grace in Christ (Messiah) Jesus. No. We are talking about entering into the fullness of that salvation.

Put another way, ours is a pilgrimage of passion. Upon receiving the gift of God’s salvation, we desire to move more intentionally into it. To move forward, ever onwards, toward living in a dynamic union with Jesus—enjoying God’s presence and being empowered by His Spirit.

Out on the periphery of the Holy Land, many routes will take you up to the City of God. But the closer you get, the roads merge and become fewer and fewer in number. When you finally enter the very Temple itself, going up the fifteen steps and through a single gate, the final destination is the Holy of Holies, which has only one entrance.

It is striking but not surprising that the closer we get to the Holy of Holies in our spiritual journey, the more demanding the pilgrimage becomes.

To gain some perspective, let’s look back over the life of the patriarch Abraham, whom Paul calls the father of all who believe (Rom 4:11). In many ways, he and his wife Sarah are a pattern of spiritual life. It is very helpful and instructive to realize that he didn’t fulfill the Genesis 12 call all at once. It was a progressive commitment, one that intensified over time and through the events of their lives.

In Genesis chapter 12, God commands Abraham (then Abram) to leave his country, his people, and even his family.

• First, he left his country, Ur. But he was still with his family and his people.
• He got sidetracked at Haran and stayed there until his father died. Then he left and continued the journey, still holding onto his people.
• There came a point in his experience when God separated him from Lot, in effect saying, ‘You must forsake all and cling to me; you must not just leave your country and family, but even your people.’
• At 99 years old, he received the promised son, Isaac. Later, the One who had revealed Himself as El Shaddai (the All-Sufficient God) asked him for the ultimate commitment, ‘You must even give up your beloved son, Isaac, to me.’

As we progress toward the living God, like Abraham we are stripped more and more in some respects. But the paradoxical and wonderful thing is that as you become poor in terms of what you would have in the natural, you become enriched in terms of what God gives you in the supernatural. Discipleship is costly, but its rewards are incalculable. There is nothing so precious. To give up all for Christ is a joy unspeakable that is full of glory!

The way of ascents has been getting narrower with the realization that life, even on pilgrimage, is fraught with suffering (read chapter 19); followed by the acknowledgment that our iniquity makes our journey harder than it should be (read chapter 20). Now, the way gets even narrower as we approach a hurdle few make it over.

Psalm 131 is the shortest of the fifteen Psalms of Ascent, yet in some respects, it has been the most difficult for me to prepare to communicate in a condensed and clear way. It is a Psalm of David, a beautifully precious testament to a spirit of humility.

O LORD, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.

I believe Psalm 131 is strategically placed at this vital juncture. Even though it is the smallest and shortest psalm, it is also the deepest and the longest in terms of learning and application. This psalm points us to what Israel’s ancient sages called the supreme virtue—humility.

According to a Hebraic, biblical way of thinking, all virtues together make up a body of which humility is the head. It is the highest or supreme virtue.

Notice the superscription tied directly into Psalm 131: A Song of Ascents; of David. An ancient Jewish commentary explains that the context for this psalm is the story in 2 Samuel 6 when David brought the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem.

And David danced before the LORD with all his might, wearing a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the LORD with shouting and with the sound of the horn. It is a fascinating story punctuated by David’s explanation to his wife, Michal, who criticized his actions as lacking in dignity and decorum, It was before the LORD, who chose me.

Israel’s sages said no man was more willing to humble himself than David and that Psalm 131 is auto-biographical. Each of the opening lines has a historical referent.

• My heart is not lifted up refers to Samuel anointing him as king.
• My eyes are not raised too high refers to when he slew Goliath.
• I do not occupy myself with things too great refers to when all Israel finally proclaimed him king years after Saul’s death.
• And things too marvelous for me refers to when he brought the ark up to Jerusalem.

Regarding that event they commented, “Just as the baby is not ashamed to remain uncovered before its mother, so David uncovered himself before the LORD.” David embodies biblical humility.

Humility is vitally essential to the spiritual life. Indeed, it is the root and basis of every other Christian virtue. Yet it is often misconstrued and misunderstood. Humility is misrepresented and ridiculed in the secular world. It shouldn’t surprise you that this actually goes all the way back to the Greeks. They did not think highly of the virtue of humility. It was terminology used in a derogatory manner.

The Greek terms for humble and humility had the connotation of someone servile or lowly, and, were always used disparagingly.

Aristotle called humble people slavish and small-souled, as opposed to those he extolled as big-souled. In other words, to the founders of Western culture, the humble person was small-minded. No wonder the language of humility strikes a discordant note, even in the contemporary ear. To many, it speaks of infantile dependency and obsequious obedience rising from a self-effacing submissiveness, resulting in social paralysis.

The world’s perception of authentic humility as an undesirable trait with negative connotations shouldn’t surprise us. If it is vital to our spiritual lives and essential in the biblical text, we should expect it to be misunderstood and maligned. As we continue our study, I desire to shine a fresh light on what true humility is, what it is not, and why it is crucial to you and me.