The wings are not yours.
Ancient Greek mythology tells the story of a gifted inventor Daedalus and his son Icarus. The two were imprisoned on the island of Crete for helping Theseus defeat the Minotaur. But that’s another story.
Daedalus hatched an escape plan out of wax and feathers. He crafted a pair of elaborate wings, one for himself and one for his son Icarus. The would fly off the island. But before their great escape, the father strictly warned his son about flying too high, too close to the sun. The heat of the sun could melt the wax and disintegrate the wings.
Off they flew, leaving their island prison behind. Have you ever dreamed of spreading wings? Icarus soared. It was better than an R Kelly song. He flew and flew. And before he realized what was happening, there was the sun. The wings melted into slop and feathers, and Icarus careened through the clouds and drowned in the sea.
Icarus forget that the wings were not his.
The wings are not yours.
In Luke 10, Jesus has sent out 72 disciples to do what he does. Heal the sick. Proclaim the Kingdom. Now they return from their mission to report to Jesus what happened. Pay attention to the words of the disciples in Luke 10:17:
“Lord, even the demons are subject to… [wait for it]… US!”
Pause and consider our discipleship lesson this week:
A disciple’s greatest danger is spiritual pride.
Why do you think that is? What is so dangerous about pride? And why are the disciples so excited about demons submitting to them?
Pride is a slimy, sneaky sin. Not like lust or violence, which are blatant and explicit. Pride hides and creeps under the skin of good people in good places. Pride says that God answers prayer because it’s you that prays. Pride says that it’s your advice that changed your friend’s mind. Pride says that your effort matters. Pride says it was your idea.
Pride says the wax and feathers are really your wings. And you don’t find out until it’s too late and you’re falling through the clouds.
So what do you do about spiritual pride?
Fiftyeight 
