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Pride Goeth Before Destruction, And An Haughty Spirit Before A Fall * (Part I)
By gartenfische | September 21, 2007
We come nearest to the great when we are great in humility.
-Rabindranath Tagore
I ask myself, How can I even write this? I am so not humble. SO. Well, this is how I can write it—I am so not humble. I am the perfect person to write about humility because: Would a humble person touch this subject with a ten foot pole? (Exempted parties: religious greats who are on another plane altogether.) My depressing lack of humility has revealed itself several times recently, which tells me I’m qualified to dive right in. So, like a seal leaps gracefully into the sea—er, rather, like a turkey flops into a mud puddle—here I go.
Humility is a hard lesson for me. It’s not something we Americans drink in with our formula; in fact, kids learn to strut almost before they walk. I grew up in a typical American screwed-up family (yeah, these are just the people you want running the world) and ended up soaring—or rather, flopping—out of the familial nest with both an inferiority complex and a pseudo-superiority complex. (Now do you see why I’m so darn confused?) I’ve come a long way since those days, but not long enough. At least now, when I think snobbish thoughts—for instance in the grocery store, spying a woman’s cart loaded with junk food—I stop and remind myself that this particular mortal ain’t nearly perfect herself. Sadly, the things that I am really good at (like buying reasonably healthy food most of the time) are trumped by little things like following Jesus’s instruction not to judge one another. So what if I buy healthy food if I am not kind? Yeah, I can just see God weighing those two choices: well, she eats healthy, that’s good; on the other hand she’s hasty to judge; hmmm, healthy food or loving? Hmmm. . . .
But I shop better than she does!
Unfortunately, humbleness does not rest comfortably beside a competitive mindset, and we Americans cherish competition. My family won a gold medal (see photo, above) at the 1980 Family Olympics in the Most Competitive category.**
Why has humility, a once-sought after trait, been pitched straight onto the compost heap? You just don’t see people walking around practicing humility. Parents aren’t teaching it; even churches don’t seem to be teaching it. Is it because we confuse humility with shame or guilt? It’s not about shame; it’s not about guilt; it’s about admitting that we’re fallible human beings—no one better than the others. It makes no difference what’s in your shopping cart (I’m talking to you, gartenfische), how fast you run, whether you’ve memorized the Nicene Creed. For those of us who believe in God and God’s love for us, it is accepting our utter need for and dependence on God. Ten years ago, I didn’t even realize I should cultivate humility. At least now I know enough to say, wow, this really is not pretty, and God, please, please help me because I cannot fix it.
Sometimes my lack of humility is stunning and then I honestly wonder how God can stand me. Evelyn Underhill wrote, “Humility is the same thing as self-knowledge.” (For instance, say you’re in the grocery store. . . .) This self-knowledge is, of course, balanced by God’s grace and by a deeper Truth about us. We’re imperfect, but at the same time, we’re perfect. We are beloved of God; God wouldn’t let the whole story about us be brokenness. God loves us so much it is beyond human understanding, as Julian of Norwich put it. Enough to love us completely, even when we are martyrishly denying that we deserve it and even when we know we don’t deserve it. This is what saves me from despair when I am face to face with my humility deficit. It’s like Jesus wipes my tears with his own hand (and isn’t that humbling?). So humility is not about self-rejection, but about swallowing a dose of reality and remembering my dependence on God.
While writing this, I came across an article by Dr. Paul T. P. Wong, wherein he said he was thinking of writing a book called, I’m Glad I’m Nobody: A Positive Psychology of Humility. Please do, Dr. Wong, such a book would be excellent for Americans; we need something to counter all the books that endeavor to help us develop (yet more) pride.
Authentic religious leaders, our revered models, always exude humility. If someone’s swaggering around making proclamations, I have to wonder about the depth of their spiritual life. Can you picture Jesus swaggering?
Hildegard of Bingen wrote: Many wise men have become so confused by miracles that they indeed revealed many a secret, but for the sake of vain renown ascribed it to themselves, and so they fell. But those who in the ascent of the soul drew their wisdom from God and counted themselves as nothing, have become the pillars of heaven.
In other words, pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.*
I once read a piece André Debus III wrote about his father. Going through his dad’s handwritten work after he died, he found that he had written Thank you at the bottom of every page. There’s humility for you: Thank you—I did not, could not, do this on my own; thank you for this gift. How beautiful, how humble, is that?
Rabbi Dr. Jonathan Sacks:
Humility, then, is more than just a virtue: it is a form of perception, a language in which the ‘I’ is silent so that I can hear the ‘Thou’, the unspoken call beneath human speech, the Divine whisper within all that moves, the voice of otherness that calls me to redeem its loneliness with the touch of love. Humility is what opens us to the world.
And does it matter that it no longer fits the confines of our age? The truth is that moral beauty, like music, always moves those who can hear beneath the noise. Virtues may be out of fashion, but they are never out of date. The things that call attention to themselves are never interesting for long, which is why our attention span grows shorter by the year. Humility — the polar opposite of “advertisements for myself” — never fails to leave its afterglow. We know when we have been in the presence of someone in whom the Divine presence breathes. We feel affirmed, enlarged, and with good reason. For we have met someone who, not taking himself or herself seriously at all, has shown us what it is to take with utmost seriousness that which is not I.
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* Proverbs 16:18
** We also won medals in the fields of Doggedness, Emotion-Suppression and Obedience (in this competition, the father reclined in a Lazy Boy and bellowed commands; the family whose wife and children responded most rapidly won—we set the world record at 0.12 seconds, edging out a family from Texas who only came close because my stepmother tripped while bringing my dad a cocktail). Needless to say, we did not win the Meekness tournament, in which you did your best not to win; this went to a Mennonite family from Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo). You probably haven’t heard of the Family Olympics; they were always held in an inhospitable environment to further test the competitors’ mettle; in 1980, we traveled to the Taklamakan Desert in northwest China. The locals’ name for the desert translates “go in and you don’t come out”—thankfully, we came out, I know of at least one family that did not (they got lost in the Following Directions contest—you can probably guess why—yes, the man took a wrong turn and refused to stop and ask for help). The Schmidts are probably still wandering around Taklamakan.
The Family Games were disbanded after 1980, as many saw them as reinforcing the subjugation of women and discriminating against non-traditional families. Indeed, while we were hustling about, executing my father’s commands, protesters heckled us from the sidelines. Later, my stepmother said this was the reason she faltered while performing a simple task that she had successfully discharged many thousands of times previously.
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P.S. Fran recently posted some thoughts on humility over at FranIAm.
P.P.S. And here’s a humble, heartfelt story from a blog that I stumbled across in my Web wanderings.
Peace.
Topics: God, Christianity, life |
September 21st, 2007 at 11:59 am
Such a wonderful reflection on humility (and a very funny one on family dynamics)!
I wonder what would happen if our schools started focusing on teaching humility to children, instead of trying to instill “self-esteem”?
September 21st, 2007 at 1:00 pm
interesting post! love it!
funny….I was talking to my college yoga class yesterday about how different things are in India, the teacher-student dynamic. In other words, I was talking about humbleness and respect (WHAT!?! RESPECT A TEACHER, YOU’RE OUTTA YOUR MIND!)
I told them that in India, sometimes in a traditional yoga class taught by a traditional teacher, students would never show their feet to the teacher, as a sign of respect. and that sometimes the students will stay standing before the teacher comes into the room and then sit down when he enters. again, a sign of respect. respect for the teacher and respect for their teachings.
not subservience, respect. and in that respect, comes humility.
I could tell by the looks on their faces that it must have sounded like I was speaking Martian to them.
September 21st, 2007 at 5:34 pm
This is extraordinary. Really beautiful - deep, moving yet funny, sweet. Humble.
It was so good I had to cross post.
September 21st, 2007 at 6:11 pm
YM, good question. I think we’ve gone overboard on the self-esteem in an effort to make our kids feel great about themselves, to the point that so many don’t realize that other people are just as important as they are. Self-esteem is good, but it should be coupled with humility.
Linda, what a novel concept–respecting the teacher! Once when I visited a Hindu temple (in the U.S.), we were told never to sit with our feet toward the image of the deity. So I see the connection with the point you made about not showing your feet to the teacher out of respect. Yes, respect and humility walk hand in hand.
Fran, Thank you so much. :)
September 22nd, 2007 at 1:58 am
I just LOVE it, when you become personal! Your writing is so full of truth and insights. And, somehow I think we must have been separated at birth. Meet you out there, I have some experiences to report in the realms of humility.
September 22nd, 2007 at 3:37 am
[…] wrote so beautifully about Humility. When I first came to my Spiritual Master, there were people bowing down to him, kneeling at his […]
September 22nd, 2007 at 5:10 pm
I really loved this post. I’ve been struggling with humility in my Quaker Meeting. Lots of folks making decisions themselves, not in a Quaker process, not checking in with God. It seems like they have a lack of trust for the rest of the spiritual community, that they won’t go there, be humble, and ask for help with a decision.
In poliitics, I’ve watched when politicians try to show humility. It is perceived as weakness. I liked that Obama was talking about talking with leaders of other nations that are supposed to be “our” enemies. Almost immediately, Hillary jumped on him. So next, he bactracked and started talking about “high yield targets” and such. Thanks for the post. I’ll need to sit with this. You have written very deeply it seems. Would it be ok if I printed out the post? Then I could read it on the bus, other places and just well, sit with it.
September 23rd, 2007 at 2:49 pm
MM, Thank you! Yeah, maybe we were separated at birth (except that I think you’re quite a bit younger!).
Chuck, Of course, feel free to print, or whatever. I’m glad it speaks to you. I hope your Meeting will be able to come back to that God-center. Sometimes we humans do have a hard time trusting God–we have our own agenda and forget that we’re not really in charge, anyway.
September 24th, 2007 at 2:15 pm
C’mon, where’s part II? I can’t wait to read it.
*hugs*
Quick, jump over to my blog, I’ve awarded you with an award :D
September 24th, 2007 at 4:14 pm
Thank you, dear. Part II is on its way. . . .