Humility

I used to think that humility meant trying to believe that you are not as beautiful, smart, or good as you secretly believe you are. It felt like something dishonest and I hated the concept of it. Then one day, I came accross this interesting quote that started a whole new chain of thoughts in me: "True humility is not thinking less of yourself. It is thinking of yourself less."

In his talk about developing strong, lasting, godly characters, Anglican Bishop N.T. Wright says:

“Jesus taught that when your character is fully formed, you won’t be thinking about your character at all. You’ll be thinking about how much God loves you and you’ll be thinking about whether it’s your turn tonight to go and visit old Mrs. Jones in the hospice. Loving God and loving your neighbor."

If you walk into a room and all you can think about is the zit on your forehead or panic about what people will think of your hair, all you are thinking about is you. Even though you clearly have a bad opinion about yourself and your looks, you are not humble. You somehow believe, whether consciously or not, that everyone in that room is thinking about you and your appearance; in other words, that you are the center of the universe. However, if you walk into that room without giving a second thought to how you appear, focusing on the people you are meeting, enjoying the conversations you are having, it is not only a liberating thing, but a shining example of true humility.

In his The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis (1941) masterfully expresses this idea:

"[God] wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another. [God] wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favour that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbour's talents - or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall." (p. 73)

I think the reason we so often want to cling to our accomplishments and the praise we get for them is because we tie them to our worth. It is a wonderful thing to have talents and aspirations, to design cathedrals or to sing beautifully or to be the fastest runner. But our accomplishments are a shaky foundation to base our value on, because no matter how good we are, there will always be times when we fail or not be the best. 

I will never forget this one time when someone close to me was telling me about how his job makes him feel. "When I'm productive," he said, "I feel more fulfilled, I feel more proud of myself, I love myself more..." He went on listing more things, but his voice blurred into the background after I caught that tiny unconscious confession. He loves himself more because he is productive. It pained me to hear him say that, because I started wondering what would happen if there came a time when he was unable to be “productive.” 

The firmest foundation for my worth that I have found is God's unconditional love. That, even as he will always help me grow and become better because he loves me, he will never reject me if I fail and that there is absolutely nothing I can do (or not do) to make him love me any more or less. 

When thinking about what Jesus said about having to lose your self in order to find it (Matthew 18:25), I immediately think of all the macho guys I have met in my life. If you dare to question their strength or courage, they will not only threaten you but go to every length to prove you otherwise. But why? If they are so sure that they are strong, why do they need every other person in the universe to proclaim it too? It's because they don't know it. At the core of their behavior is an insecurity, a shaky identity that they need to defend at all costs. But imagine if someone walks up to the prince of England and says, "You are not a prince." At best he will simply laugh and say, "Sure, sure, whatever you say."

Now imagine the macho guy, who not only knows that he is strong and doesn't need to prove it to anyone, but also knows that even if he isn't, that's okay, because the world doesn't revolve around him. Instead of focusing on himself, his eyes rise up to see the unconditional love of the One that created him. Because he is no longer busy worrying about his reputation, his mind is now free to see others and care for them. Because he no longer believes that his value depends on how invincible he appears to others, he can be freed from the constant battle of trying to prove himself and breathe the light fresh air that comes with honesty. Humility, in fact, will have set him free.