Do not seek God high above, but seek Him deep within.
Do not look for Him far away, but in your home, neighborhood, church, friend, stranger, yourself.
“For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14:11)
I believe many of us fail to grasp the seriousness of these words of Christ. He repeats them often.
The joy of Christmas rests on the reality that God became Man. God came down, to us. From infinite light, He descended into darkness to shine. To ignite our lamps.
He humbled Himself completely. He bent toward the smallest, the most sinful, to extend a hand, to heal, to understand, to comfort, and to save. He came as the Least, the Most Insignificant, the Servant of all. Born as a homeless child in a stable, He worked a hard and not-so-respected trade—carpentry (at the time, akin to day labor)—and came from a despised place. He lived without any earthly luxury, approached and preached to all who were rejected, abandoned, sick, and shamed.
On earth, Christ did not seek places of honor. When guests sought prominent places, He told them, “For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
Christ did not highlight His goodness and holiness by belittling sinners but taught and comforted them, gently leading them into holiness through Himself. When the Pharisee in the temple praised himself and despised the tax collector, Christ concluded, “For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
When He sent His apostles to preach, Christ did not instruct them to seek their own glory, to demand service from others, to be praised, or to receive tributes. No, instead, they were to serve others. Again, He repeated: “For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”
And He lived this truth every moment of His earthly life. Every breath of His lungs, every beat of His heart, every movement of His muscles was God serving man—the fallen, sinful, unworthy man—yet so deeply loved by Him! So loved that He became the smallest, the most despised, mocked by all, dying as an outcast and the lowest of the low. I emphasize this deliberately because this was such a scandal to the Jews and such nonsense, such foolishness to the pagans: that God would stoop so low and allow Himself to endure such things!
A God who washes the feet of His disciples. How many of us would do the same?
A God who calls a tax collector to be His friend and apostle, though tax collectors of the time were akin to modern mercenaries.
A God who eats and drinks with sinners. Yet I wonder—what would happen if a priest today sat at the feast of someone known as a loan shark or even simply spoke with a prostitute?
Clearly, not all of us are Christ, but in a certain way, we are. The entire point of Baptism is to clothe ourselves in Christ. To live, move, act, think, love, suffer, and seek through Him. If we fall, He lifts us up.
But let us carefully consider what is a fall and what is elevation. Are we looking with the eyes of this world, or do we have enough trust to surrender even “the eyes of our heart” to Him?
God is down. Very, very low. He is there, with those whom the world considers the lowest. The least deserving. The dirtiest, the most obscure. Often, He shines through them.
But He is not in sin. I am not speaking of that. Sin and God have nothing in common.
But the sinner. The man, made in God’s image, who has strayed from Meaning, trapped in the agony of a living hell. Many of them are on the path to sainthood. Because they have realized how worthless they are without God and how they will never amount to anything without Him. Because they have felt how transforming, how life-giving, His love is—how much power and joy He freely and undeservedly bestows!
And this is what’s important. You did not earn such love. There is nothing you can do in this world to deserve such love. Because God doesn’t want you to earn it. He loves you regardless. We don’t fight for God’s favor as if we’re at auditions or competitions, hoping He finds us worthy of His love. He loves you undeservedly. Even if you are the worst sinner in the world. He will love you even if you walk away from Him, but He will not obstruct your freedom. We choose to walk away from Him, and we choose to return to Him. That, in essence, is sin—our distancing from God, from love, from meaning, from joy. Our alienation from Him, and this is something a person simply feels. It grows cold within them, their sense of purpose crumbles, they are plagued by doubts and disturbances—or, in the end, they simply become numb, dulled, and forget what it means to be human, to rejoice, and to love, to love, to love.
No matter how far we stray from God, He loves us. At the very bottom, where there is barely any air, where the view is clouded by the dust of the grave and death reigns, it is often there that the rays of light are most clearly recognized, most fiercely fought for, and most deeply loved. The bravest will follow that Light, gasping for purer air. There is an instinct for survival—biology and science agree on this—everyone is wired with a drive for physical life. It’s the same with a spiritual “instinct”; everyone needs the Truth and a Life greater than the here and now. Whoever claims otherwise is either lying or trying to suppress something inherently given to them.
Only now, as the soul has somewhat matured, am I so grateful to God for experiencing the dense spaces of the depths. For having been in its pits and living quagmires. Nothing I write would reach those who are there now if I hadn’t been so utterly exhausted from relying on my own strength to break free. Only God liberates, only He saves.
But people can be His messengers of good news. Angels of His Gospel. To do His work where it is most needed.
I have come to detest human heights, earthly titles; I recommend the same to all. Multiply your talents, help those dearest to you, but suppress any thought that human ideas of achievement are equal to the reason God gave us life.
Glory to God in the highest, but that height is often found in what people consider the depths.
Descend, humble yourself—not in the sense of thinking poorly of yourself, nor in avoiding growth—you must love yourself—but in the sense of humbling your spirit. To live in lowliness and look kindly upon the humble.
Humble yourself, recognize yourself as small, tiny, yet so deeply loved by God, created for such great things! Wonderful divine paradoxes.
God is down, among the poor in spirit, the pure in heart, the merciful…
We often strive for high human ranks and vanity, demanding honor and power, thinking that this exalts us.
We climb into the abyss.
Do not seek God high above, but seek Him deep within.
Do not look for Him far away, but in your home, neighborhood, church, friend, stranger, yourself.
“For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14:11)
(Marko Radaković)
Translated by: Gracanica Serbian Orthodox Church, Ontario
More on English: here
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