Your Gentleness Made Me Great

A person holding a lamb and the words, "Your Gentleness Made Me Great," describing the subject of the post.

Your gentleness made me great.

2 Samuel 22:36

 

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30

Great: of an extent, amount, or intensity considerably above the normal or average. Of ability, quality, or eminence considerably above the normal or average. Important or distinguished (New Oxford American Dictionary).

Great is a banned word in my children’s writing curriculum. Overused, the word requires no imagination. Teachers encourage students to think of a synonym that is more precise, less ordinary.

Great is a banned word in humble faith communities as well. We do not refer to ourselves as great; that would be prideful. Sinful. Boastful. Shameful.

Yet here, David, the man after God’s own heart, declares himself great in the curious statement of 2 Samuel 22:36.

Your gentleness has made me great.

Contrast his words with those of his descendant, the Messiah Jesus, recorded in Matthew 11:29. 

I am gentle and lowly of heart; take my yoke upon you and learn from me.

Dane Ortlund, author of the gem Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers, points out something he learned from his father, who learned it from Charles Spurgeon:

In the one place in the Bible where the Son of God pulls back the veil and lets us peer way down into the core of who he is, we are not told that he is “austere and demanding in heart.” We are not told that he is “exalted and dignified in heart.” We are not even told that he is “joyful and generous in heart.” Letting Jesus set the terms, his surprising claim is that he is “gentle and lowly in heart.” (p. 18)

Gentleness is exceptional in a world of intensity, rage, entitlement, and self-importance. Gentleness is critical in a world of walking, wounded, war-weary, wound-up people. 

Gentleness is a sort of greatness the world needs. I know I need it.

According to the definition of great, David is saying that God’s gentleness (not his own!) made him a person who displayed character of an extent, amount, or intensity considerably above the normal or average. The Lord’s gentleness gave David ability, quality, and eminence considerably above the normal or average.  The gentleness of God Most High made David important or distinguished.

How do those words sit with your soul?

Do you believe that you are important? That you have the potential to display character that is considerably above normal or average?

David’s greatness had everything to do with His Lord. The genesis of greatness in King David was the gentleness of the Lord. In David’s song of deliverance found in 2 Samuel 22 and Psalm 18, the Lord receives the glory. All David had, all he did, began with the Lord’s kindness to him.

Time with the gentle Savior changes us. Gentles our thoughts about Him, ourselves, and others.

The Lord’s gentleness is great indeed.

In the raging storm of my thoughts, the tumult of my to-dos, the sorrows of the suffering around me that outnumber the hours in my days to help, I need the greatness of gentleness.

My keeper, the One who loves me, is gentle. He invites me to be gentle, too.

The Lord is your keeper. Psalm 121:5

Oh, to be known by gentleness!

Many years ago I lived in a Muslim country. One day I walked to the local shop to buy milk. I greeted everyone with the customary Arabic blessing of peace. At the sound of my voice, an old woman who was examining a pile of freshly baked bread looked sharply at me and began to curse.

I felt my defenses go high, that familiar fire rise in me that makes me say things I regret later. I always discover just how much language I know when I’m angry, unfortunately.

The US had just invaded Iraq and as an American, I was the enemy.

The shop owner glanced in distress at me, ashamed, and began to reason with the angry woman.

This American is a woman of faith. She lives in our community. She is one of us.

I was grateful for his generous defense. The intensity I’d felt a moment before gave way to a surge of gentleness. Surprising myself and her, I impulsively placed my hand on her shoulder and said, “I am praying for the Messiah to bring peace to the nations. He is our peace.”

Startled, she stopped in mid-curse and blinked at me. Her mask of rage dropped, revealing the kind face of a grandmother.

Gentleness turns away wrath, revealing the heart hiding beneath (See Proverbs 15:1).

Her response was quiet as she returned a small pat on my arm and took a golden loaf of bread from the relieved shopkeeper.

May God pardon me. 

Gentleness is counterintuitive in a world at war. But it carries the force of greatness within its quiet borders, the power to turn away wrath, the potential to teach us rest for our souls. Click To Tweet

I am removing great from the list of banned words in my vocabulary. 

Gentle and lowly Jesus, Great and mighty Lord of my heart, make me great with your gentleness. Amen.

@audreycfrank

Photo by Sandie Clarke on Unsplash

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