What Do You Think of Yourself?

Romans 12—let’s turn to the book of Romans, chapter 12. So our pastor has already spent several months preaching from the book of Romans. How many of you have been blessed by these sermons? Amen. Amen. How many of you know where someone can find one of the sermons he has preached if they want to watch it? Does anyone know? On the Internet. They are all saved there, so you can look them up there and see everything he has preached to us.

I am only going to choose one verse from Romans, and then I am going to support it with another passage, which is one of my favorites. So, Romans 12—and we have now reached the part of the book of Romans that deals with its application. Up to this point, God, through the apostle Paul, has been explaining the gospel. The book of Romans is a summary of the gospel of Jesus Christ: how Jesus came to save us and die for us, how it cannot be earned, how Jesus purchased it for us, and how that gives us peace and gives us new life. And he explained all of it, everything, throughout the book of Romans until chapter 12, when it is finally time to talk about its application. Now what? Now that Jesus died for me, now that he bought me with his blood, what now?

And I understand that last week the pastor preached to us from Romans 12:1–2 about offering ourselves as living sacrifices so that God may use us in his kingdom and for his purposes. And then he goes on to talk about how we all have a role to play, how we are one body—very diverse and very different, thank God. And every one of us has something to contribute.

But before I think about my purpose and my service in the body of Christ, I have to think about how I see myself, how I see myself.

Let’s look at Romans 12, verse 3. We are there—or you can look at it there—where it says: “...For I say, through the grace given to me, to everyone who is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think....”

Do not think of yourselves more highly than you ought. Do not think of yourself more highly than you should. But we are not—we are not guilty of that. I think all of us are guilty of that at some point.

“...but to think of himself with sound judgment”—sound judgment—“...according to the measure of faith that God has distributed to each one....” Think of yourself with sound judgment; know yourself for who you are; know that you are not the center of the universe. But that is all right, because you are special, and God has a purpose for you.

Let’s read another passage that, to me, supports this, in Mark, chapter 5. It connects with this. Perhaps it will not seem that way at first, but afterward you will see how it connects.

Mark 5 contains, to me, one of the most beautiful stories in the New Testament. I return to these stories here often. Mark 5 speaks about Jesus and two connected miracles. Mark 5:21 says:

“...When Jesus had crossed over again by boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him, and he was by the sea. And one of the rulers of the synagogue, named Jairus, came, and when he saw him, he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, saying, ‘My daughter is dying. Come and lay your hands on her so that she may be saved and live.’ So he went with him, and a great crowd followed him and pressed against him. But a woman who had suffered from a flow of blood for 12 years, and had suffered greatly under many physicians and spent all she had, and had gained nothing but instead grew worse, when she heard about Jesus, came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, ‘If I touch only his cloak, I will be saved.’ And immediately the source of her bleeding dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of that affliction. Then Jesus, knowing within himself that power had gone out from him, turned toward the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my clothes?’ And his disciples said to him, ‘You see the crowd pressing against you, and you say, “Who touched me?”’ But he looked around to see who had done this. Then the woman, afraid and trembling, knowing what had been done in her, came and fell before him and told him the whole truth. And he said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be healed of your affliction.’ And while he was still speaking, some came from the house of the ruler of the synagogue, saying, ‘Your daughter has died. Why trouble the Teacher any further?’ But as soon as Jesus heard what was said, he told the ruler of the synagogue, ‘Do not be afraid; only believe.’ And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. And he came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue and saw the commotion and those who were weeping and wailing loudly. And when he entered, he said to them, ‘Why are you making this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead, but sleeping.’ And they laughed at him. But after putting them all outside, he took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and entered where the child was. And taking the child by the hand, he said to her, ‘Talitha cumi,’ which is translated, ‘Little girl, I say to you, arise.’ And immediately the girl arose and walked, for she was 12 years old, and they were greatly astonished. But he strictly commanded them that no one should know about it. And he said that she should be given something to eat.”

Father, in the name of Jesus, I ask that it be your Holy Spirit speaking to us today. Lord, I want to hear your voice. I want my beloved brothers and sisters to hear your voice. Lord, you are here; you are here, Lord. I ask you to be the one who ministers to every heart, in the name of Jesus. Amen and amen.

Do not think more highly of yourself than is appropriate. What does Romans say again? I am going to go back there for a moment. It says, “No one should think of himself more highly than he ought to think.”

Why is it so important to emphasize this before talking about how we must work as a team, as the body of Christ? Why? What do you think? How many of you here have played on a sports team in your life? It could be baseball, volleyball, American football, gringo football, Latin football—I don’t know what kind of football. You have played a sport, and there is someone on the team who thinks he is Maradona, right? He thinks he can do everything. No, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” No—not that he can do everything himself and does not have to share with anyone else. There is an expression for that in English: he is called a ball hog, someone who hogs the ball all for himself. That is how it is in basketball. He never lets anyone else have it; he always wants to be Michael Jordan... standing there with his tongue hanging out, shooting the thing. He wants to be... famous, because he thinks he is such a big deal.

And because he has such a high opinion of himself, he does not play well as part of a team with others. You know, if you have felt that way, you are in good company, because Moses himself began his life this way. How many of you remember the story of Moses? When Moses was young, he did not grow up in the humble countryside. Moses grew up in Pharaoh’s palace. He grew up as a son of the king—privileged, with all the good things in life. Then, when he reached young adulthood, he was there, ready to conquer the world, and he saw an Egyptian mistreating an Israelite, and he killed him. The next day, he got involved with two Israelites who were fighting, and Moses said, ‘Look, stop fighting.’ And they looked at him and said, ‘And who do you think you are?’ I think that is how you say it in Spanish; I don’t know. In English there’s a saying: ‘Who do you think you are, anyway?’ ‘Who do you think you are?’

He had a very high opinion of himself, so God sent him to some good therapy. How many of you know that when we are proud, when we think we are such a big deal, God is capable of putting us in our place a little? I don’t know whether some of you have had this experience. I have, I have. So Moses is sent into the wilderness for 40 years. Look, you, the famous son of Pharaoh, are going to be a nobody for 40 years, there in the wilderness. No one is going to know you; you are going to be completely anonymous during that time. Then God appears to him—do you remember the story of the burning bush?—and calls Moses to great things. But by then Moses had been cured of his pride, and he went to the opposite extreme, didn’t he?

How many of us know that it is possible to be too humble? How many of us know that humility is not always humility? Sometimes humility is an excuse for not doing what we have to do. Look at what Moses says when God tells him, ‘You are my chosen instrument. I am going to send you to Egypt to save my people.’ Moses, now cured, says, ‘But who am I? Who am I to do it?’ Then God tells him, ‘Do not worry, Moses; I will be with you.’ And Moses says, ‘But, but, but—what if I don’t know your name, and they won’t believe me that this is my name and I am the I am....’ ‘Now go.’ And he says, ‘No, no, but I don’t speak very well. I don’t speak Spanish well. I can’t preach at Lion of Judah. I don’t speak English well. I can’t... I can’t preach to my coworkers.... I stut-stut-stutter, and I speak with that stuttering. I can’t....’ And he says, ‘All right, my good man.’ At last, Moses’ cowardice comes fully out into the open. He says, ‘Look, please send someone else. I don’t want to go.’

The Word says that God became angry with Moses. He became angry with him because he was not being humble; now he saw himself as too small. You know, God does not bless an inferiority complex any more than he blesses a superiority complex. You are not such a big deal, but neither are you a zero on the left—a complete nobody. I love that expression: a zero. And as if being a zero were not enough, a zero on the left. I love it. In English, ‘zero on the left’ just doesn’t work, but it works in Spanish.

God wants us to look at ourselves with sound judgment and see who we are. And this now brings me to the passage I read earlier, because this passage about those two miracles teaches me that my identity—the identity of people—does not have to be found in social status, gifts, or talents, but somewhere else. Where do you look for your sense of worth as a person? In what you do at work? In your accomplishments?

I remember that in school I was a little obsessive about my grades, right? And one day, in economics class—which was the worst subject for me, and may my father forgive me—I got a really ugly grade, a really, really, really ugly grade. And the teacher said, ‘Well, in the economy of this class, you are the grade you earn. So if you got an A, you are an A; if you got a B, you are a B.’ Then I thought, ‘So what am I?’ with this very ugly grade I discovered I had received. Life is like that. We are always being evaluated. Oh, this is good; this is not so good; ugly, pretty, fat—what do I know? The world is always evaluating us. And if we judge and understand ourselves through the eyes of others or of society, we are lost. God wants us to seek our understanding of ourselves—our self-concept—somewhere else.

And in these parables, we see how Jesus wants to give us our identity. Returning to the miracles, there are two miracles, right? One concerns a man who was, it says, a ruler of the synagogue. He was the leader of the synagogue, a man of authority, a man with social resources, a man of renown and good standing. His name was Jairus. The other person is a woman who does not even have a name—a woman in the crowd, a marginalized woman. And Jesus says, ‘You know what, Jairus?’ He teaches through his actions, because these two miracles—many times I would like to preach about one miracle or the other, but it is like a miracle sandwich. It begins with Jairus; Jesus goes with Jairus to heal his daughter; then this whole thing happens in the crowd with the bleeding woman; and then he goes to Jairus’s house. The two are connected.

And you know what? Here is another very interesting detail: How many years had the woman suffered from the flow of blood? 12 years. How old was the girl? 12 years. Coincidence? I do not think so. God sometimes puts things together, and he wanted to teach us something.

You know what? I really like Jairus. He was a man of influence, but he came—and I see no pride in him. He came on his knees, asking Jesus for help. I see nothing wrong in him. But imagine this: Jesus is accompanying an important person, and he stops to search the crowd for a person who touched him among hundreds of people who had touched him. If you were Jairus, how would you have felt? You are walking along, hurrying, hurrying, and then Jesus stops and says, ‘Someone touched me.’ Right: ‘That’s nice, Jesus. Lots of people are touching you. Let’s go.’ ‘No, no, no. Someone touched me.’ And he stands there looking around. ‘Okay, enough, enough with all this touching. Sorry, excuse us. Let’s go.’ Jesus says, ‘No, no, no... I have something more important to do right now.’

This teaches us how God views the importance of people. Let’s think about this woman for a moment. Thank you for staying with me; I know we are covering a lot. The woman in the story had suffered from a flow of blood for 12 years. I am not a woman, but I imagine that this is not pleasant at all—very awful, very difficult—and even more so in that age, at that time. It says that a person who suffered from an illness like this officially became ceremonially unclean. Because of her weakness, because of her illness, she did not have the freedom or the right to enter the temple. She had to remain outside. And beyond that, look at this. I am going to read you the law concerning this woman from the book of Leviticus. You do not have to look it up, but I will read it. Leviticus 15 says:

“...When a woman has a flow of blood for many days outside her usual time, throughout the time of her flow she shall be unclean, as in the days of her customary impurity. And everything she touches—every bed on which she lies during her flow, every piece of furniture she touches—shall be unclean, as in the impurity of her customary period....”

So now she not only has a label—unclean—but everything she touched was unclean, every person she touched was contaminated, every piece of furniture. There were reasons for that. At that time, I believe there were reasons related to hygiene, but there was also a theological meaning that God was teaching in that era. But imagine being a person who feels so awful that everything you touch is poisoned, everything you touch..... I don’t know if you have ever felt that way in your life. Ah, of course, everything I touch goes wrong; I don’t know if some of you have felt that way.

That woman—just imagine—12 years with that unclean, unclean identity, isolated from her family, isolated from the community, isolated from the church, separated. How difficult it must have been for her! And it also says that she had suffered greatly under many doctors. Let’s see how it says it, verse 26: “... and had suffered much under many physicians.....” You know, as if suffering from the illness were not enough, she suffered at the hands of the doctors. How many here have suffered at the hands of doctors? We love doctors; I thank God for doctors, especially at this time in my life. But do you know how they administered their medicine to people? They thought that if something was wrong with you, there was something wrong with your blood, so they would bleed you to heal you. How lovely, how lovely!

So sometimes the medical treatments did more harm than the illness itself. She suffered for 12 years under many doctors, and on top of that, she spent everything she had on them. How many here have gone from one thing to another looking for help, spending money, money, until you have nothing left? There is an expression I learned in Puerto Rico: “She was left completely broke”—broke, ruined, nothing left, the bank account empty, everything lost, everything. Desperate, a desperate woman.

At last—I don’t know how many here have at some point felt that way, desperate among the crowd. And she decides, no more. She says, “I don’t know much about theology or these things, but I do know one thing: this man Jesus must have something I need, and I don’t understand how or why, but I believe that if I could only touch the cloak he is wearing, I would be healed.” So she did it. Pushing through the crowd, she touches him, and I don’t know whether some here have had that experience, but sometimes the power of Jesus is like an electric charge, like zap, and you are healed. Some here have experienced it. Sometimes healing is slower; sometimes there is no healing—we do not understand why—but sometimes it is like an electric charge being released. And at that moment she touched him, power went out from him, and she felt the healing within her.

So after that healing, after you have been healed, after receiving a blessing, what do you do? We often want to celebrate it, right? But what does she do? What does she do after her healing? She hides in the crowd again. You know what? Jesus is not content merely to heal the body. Many times we come to church because of a problem: I need provision for a financial need; I need solutions to a problem that seems impossible to me; I need healing; I need something. And it is good for us to come to Jesus seeking help for our need. And there is power for you, but you know what? God does not leave you with only the blessing. Jesus wants more than to bless you. He wants to heal not only the body; he wants to heal the soul, the mind, and the thoughts we have as well.

That woman, after 12 years of living with an unclean, unclean self-image—how must she have felt afterward? We do not know for sure; we can only imagine. But I imagine that perhaps she might have gone on through life still feeling that way inside. You know, there are so many voices that speak to us. The very word for devil, diabolos, means accuser. Satan comes and reminds you of what you have done in the past, of what you have lived through, and he accuses you, and there are voices in your head. How many sometimes hear that internal conversation telling you ugly things? They may be words we heard when we were young: “You will never amount to anything,” “Why do you keep trying?” And God wanted not only to heal that body; he wanted to heal her heart, he wanted to heal her soul. He did not want her to disappear into the crowd again.

You know what? There are many people in a large church who try to hide within the community; they want to remain anonymous, and that is all right at first because a person is just beginning and only wants to investigate. But you know what? God is not going to let you hide much longer.

We serve a Jesus who stops amid the crowd and searches for the suffering soul, and searches and searches—even though Jairus and the sick girl are waiting for him. He says, “Wait, wait, who touched me? There is something else I have to do.” Jesus was looking for her; the word in Greek indicates that he was searching, searching earnestly, and he finds her. At last she comes, and I can visualize the crowd parting to create a space, and she comes and stands there, trembling and terrified. Why would she be afraid? What do you think? The unclean woman who touched Jesus—do you remember the law? Everything she touches becomes contaminated, so by touching a religious man, she could get into trouble. And she was afraid; she was terrified, uneasy, and felt awful. And I love what Jesus does.

Look at that. In verse 34, the true healing begins. What does he say to the woman? Verse 34 says, “..... and he said to her, ‘Daughter, daughter, daughter, your faith has saved you’....”

You know what? When I am troubled, when I am already in a difficult situation and there is anxiety, nothing can calm me like the voice of the Good Shepherd, who looks at you and says, “My daughter, my son.” You know, my little boy seemed very quiet at first, but now... he has found his lungs; he gets restless sometimes. And I try to calm him, and sometimes I can, and his grandmother, who is very good, helps with that too. But sometimes nothing, nothing works until my wife takes him and says, “Oh, Noah, what is wrong?” You know what? We serve a God who, when we are there inwardly distressed, looks at us and says, “My daughter, my daughter, you are not such a big deal; you do not have to be such a big deal, but neither are you a nobody. You are my child, and that is all that matters.”

You know what? This entire passage has to do with Jesus calming things with his love, a fatherly love. At the beginning, one chapter earlier, there is a great storm. Jesus rebukes the storm and calms it. Then he reaches the shore, where there is a demon-possessed man with a legion of demons. Jesus casts out the demons, and the man, who could not even be restrained with chains, becomes calm and sits there clothed and in his right mind, listening to Jesus.

And now this woman is trembling and worried: “Oh, what am I going to do?” Jesus says, “My daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

But now we have someone else in the story who is distressed: Jairus. The bad news is already coming. And Jairus is standing there. How must Jairus have felt? We can perhaps imagine; his worry must even have been visible, because Jesus says to him, “Jairus”—and look at how he calms Jairus—verse 36: “.... he said to the ruler of the synagogue, ‘Do not be afraid; only believe.’” And afterward he goes, and there is a whole commotion of people weeping and shouting. And he says, “All right, no more commotion; get out of here.” Let us enter a quiet room, calmly. And look at how he heals the girl: “Talitha cumi,” “My little girl, I say to you, get up.”

Jesus, with the heart of a father—you know that Jesus never had children of the flesh during his earthly life, but he had millions and millions of children in the spirit. Jesus—and look at what he does next. When the girl gets up, what does Jesus do? What does he say? And now what?

It says, “... that they should give her something to eat....” This is definitive proof that Jesus was Latino, Italian, or something like that—a good Jew who says, “All right, give her something to eat; she must be hungry after all that time.” A tender heart, a servant’s heart, a heart that heals us because he looks at us through the eyes of a father who loves his children.

I want to think about this example we discussed this morning. Let us say a mother, a mother like Barbara Bush, has a son who is president. And what happens if she has another son who becomes a teacher at a school? A good job. And another son who is born with an intellectual disability, Down syndrome, and can never function in a public setting? Will that mother, that father, love the son who becomes president more than the son who becomes a teacher? And will they value the son who becomes a teacher more than the child who can never leave the house? Of course not; they are all... it does not matter. You may be the president of the Republic, but you are still my little boy, so behave yourself. And it is the same with the other one.

You know what? That is how we are to God. We are children of God, nothing more and nothing less. Jairus was a successful man in society, but that did not matter; he was a child of God who needed the love of Christ. That woman was rejected, unclean in the eyes of the world, but God says, “It does not matter; you are my daughter.”

And I want us to ask this question: Are we living with this understanding of ourselves—that I am a child of God? How do you react when something does not go well for you in life? You try to do something and make a mess of it; how do you see yourself afterward? Or someone gets angry with you or says something ugly to you—how do we react?

You know what? We often live in bondage to the influences around us, and our self-image rises and falls according to our circumstances. God says there is another life for you.

Romans 8:15 says, “.... for you have not received the spirit of bondage to be afraid again, but you have received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry, ‘Abba, Father,’ and the Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God....”

It does not depend on what you have done, for better or worse. Who are you? Who do you think you are? When you are asked this question, I want you to be able to say, “I am a child of the living God. I am a child adopted by the blood.” And you know what? I am not such a big deal; I do not think I am the beginning, the end, the Alpha and the Omega—there already is one—but I am a child of God, and neither am I a nobody.

I like how John the Baptist answered when people came to John and wanted to make him into a great Messiah, right? What does John say when they come to ask him who he is? He says, “I will tell you who I am not: I am not the Christ.”

You know, a pastor—a professor at my seminary—preached this to us. You are going to minister, but you know what? You are not the Christ; you are not the Savior. No matter how much you may want to remove the pain from people’s hearts, you cannot do it, because you are not the Savior. There already is one. He already suffered; he already died on the cross; he already took it upon himself. He is the one who saves, not you. Thank God I am not the Christ, but neither am I going to hide behind false humility.

John says, “I am a voice crying in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way of the Lord.’”

You know that you are not the Christ, but perhaps you are a voice that cries out about the goodness of the Lord in the world. You are not Jesus, but you are indeed a unique person whom God has made to do something in the Kingdom that no one else can do. You know what? There are some people—I have a friend who told me, “Gregory, I think I am part of the body of Christ,” right? The church is compared to a body, living, organic, pulsating. “I believe I am part of the body, but perhaps I am a part that is not very important, like an appendix that can be cut out without anyone noticing, right? Perhaps I am that part that is dispensable.”

Many of us see ourselves that way. We think, “I may be here, but if I were not, what would it matter?” No, no, no—it matters greatly. You are part of the body of Christ, and God has a calling for our lives. But Gregory, you do not know everything I carry with me.

You know what? The Apostle Paul said something interesting, because before he became an Apostle, what did he do? Does anyone remember? He was a Pharisee, a religious leader, and he devoted himself to killing Christians. Because of that, he sometimes felt ashamed afterward and felt inferior to the others. And look at what he says. I am going to read it in First Corinthians 15. He says:

“.... for I am the least of the Apostles; I am the least of all, unworthy to be called an Apostle because I persecuted the church of God. But”—and then he says something beautiful—“but by the grace of God I am what I am....”

You know what? I am not the.... Here is another saying I learned: I am not the last Coke in the desert. But by the grace of God I am what I am.

There are others who are better than I am, but it does not matter. I am a child of God, and by the grace of God I am what I am. What I have lived through, who I am, what I have to give—it is how God has made me for a purpose, and by that grace I am what I am. And that grace, Paul says, has not been in vain toward me. Rather, I have worked harder than all of them—yet not I, but the grace of God with me.

You know what? You are important. You are not the navel—as we said, the navel of the universe—but you are indeed important; you are a key person in God’s purposes. I am capable; you are capable of doing what God has given you to do. But you cannot do it alone.

Our pastor is now going to spend this week, and perhaps next week, preaching about the various gifts of the Holy Spirit and the various different ministries. And it all begins with offering yourself as a living sacrifice, but then, after acquiring a proper self-image, knowing that I am important here. If I am not here, something is missing—if I am not there doing what I can do. I am not such a big deal, but I do have something to do in the body of Christ.

God is speaking to us, brothers and sisters. No more living with the voices of the enemy telling us otherwise. You are nothing else. You are a child of God, no more but no less, purchased by his blood; your sins have been cleansed by his blood; renewed by the Holy Spirit, you are a child of God, raised up and appointed for good purposes.

He knows that some are hiding, and I feel that God is now going to set you apart from the crowd and begin to seek you out, because now is your time. It is your time to step out, perhaps trembling, perhaps worried, but to step out of the crowd, stand there before Jesus, and let him say to you, “My daughter, my son, I know you, and it is all right; I have a purpose for you.” It is time to stop looking at our reflection in the world and to see ourselves reflected in the eyes of God. And these are eyes of love and eyes of power that can change us, raise us up, and use us for great things, so let us accept that.

And I am going to invite the musicians. Today I encourage you to say, like Paul, “By the grace of Jehovah, I am what I am.” Whether people like me or do not like me, I am who I am. And God will use you that way, and if he does not leave you that way, he changes and transforms you, but he uses you.

So let us pray, and I invite you to stand. Let us take a moment in the presence of God and receive this word.

Father, in the name of Jesus, I thank you, Lord, that our self-concept does not have to be too high or too low, but that we can look at ourselves with sound judgment, realistically. And Lord, in the name of Jesus, I ask you for a ministry, Lord, of healing, of curing mistaken notions. Lord, I ask that you would set straight, with your love and your grace, the Moseses among us—all of us who think more highly of ourselves than we ought—and teach us that we do not have to prove anything, that we do not have to be a big deal. You are our Daddy and we are your children, and this is the greatest title we can have. Lord, I also ask—and I believe this is more common, Lord—for those who look at themselves, Lord, not through your eyes but through the eyes of the accuser, those who see themselves as unclean, rejected, and incapable. In the name of Jesus, Lord, I ask you to look at them and tell them, “My daughter, my son, I am with you.”

Oh Lord, I ask you, Lord, to raise us up. And I ask this for us as a congregation, Lord: at this time, I ask that we, as the Lion of Judah congregation, would know that, with all our bumps, with all our flaws, Lord, and with all the good as well, we are your church and you love us. And one day, Lord, I trust that you will give this congregation and this ministry ten times, Lord, a hundred times more growth; but Lord, when that day comes, you will not love us any more than you love us now. And likewise in our lives, Lord, you will raise up people to do great things, but your love does not change. You love them just as much today as you will love them when they become everything you have enabled them to be. We cannot make your love in our lives rise or fall.

Lord, I ask you to release that anointing, to release that anointing. Lord, you who have begun the good work, I ask you to bring it to completion. You who have begun the good work, perfect them, Lord; raise us up, Lord, I ask you in the name of Jesus. We rest in your arms today, Lord; we do so as a group. Let us sing to the Lord.