Humility is Endless
In “East Coker,” the poet T. S. Eliot declares that old folks are more characterized by fears than by wisdom. The poet says he does not want to hear about the wisdom of old men. That, I take him to be saying, would be tedious, acataloging of responses to situations that are long gone and rightly forgotten; it would not enlighten. But there is one kind of wisdom into which a person can indeed grow, a wisdom that would be worth learning about and listening to. What is that? It is the wisdom of humility.
Humility comes when we see more of the truth about ourselves. Perhaps you find yourself full of anger at something a colleague of yours has done to you. This is the sort of feeling that you carry inside all day, and when you get home you start to tell the story back to yourself again and again. The story you tell yourself is about how you were right and this colleague has wronged you. Then comes a sobering moment: you suddenly remember a time, years ago, when you did something similar. You hadn’t thought about that for years. But in this moment you realize: I am angry about something which today was done to me but which, years ago, I myself did to someone else.
The truth about ourselves often is slowly uncovered this way. The wisdom it leads to is our ability to see that the sin of the world is not unknown to our own heart. We had a picture of ourselves that we thought was accurate but now we know it was too simple; that inside us is a mess of good and bad that live together. We have been humbled; we have, indeed, humbled ourselves.
“Humility,” Eliot concludes, “is endless.” Perhaps this means, in the poem about aging, that with age and experience we come to know more sharply how close to each other good and evil can be. Not at all does this mean we should turn into relativists who are indifferent to moral action, nor does it mean we should cease desiring to be God’s saints. What does it mean?
One comforting thought, and a good place to begin, is that God would not let us see these things about ourselves without giving us the courage to face them. Self-knowledge takes courage, and God will provide the courage we need. Another important step is to decide to live in gratitude for mercies received.
I have been told of a man who once (long ago and far away) was involved in a situation in which a young person died. It was an accident, but it was also a situation where charges might have been pressed against him, and he might not have been able to prove it was an accident. As it turned out, no suit was brought against him. This man thereupon decided that he would never sue anyone in court. He had received that mercy, and he intended to pass on that mercy to others.
It seems to me that humility comes about through exercise of certain spiritual muscles, and unlike physical muscles, these can continue to strengthen regardless of our age. That is to say, humility indicates hidden strength. It is not the emptiness of boasting; it partakes of the power of truth. It is surely an important part of how we are bound to one another. And it is surely something we could use more of.
—
Out & About. I am to preach at St. Matthew’s Cathedral in Dallas on Aug. 23 and St. Augustine’s Oak Cliff (Dallas) on Aug. 30.
Good Books & Good Talk: The season of Dostoyevsky is almost here. Over four months we will be reading and discussing The Brothers Karamazov, doing one “Part” of the book each month. We will discuss Part One (about 200 pages) on Sun. Aug. 30 at 5pm at St. Matthew’s Cathedral in Dallas. The “Brothers K” faces deep Christian questions through the interwoven lives of the mystic Alyosha, the intellectual Ivan, and the sensualist Dmitri. I will begin each of our sessions with a very short talk, culminating with a question to start the conversation. We meet for 90 minutes. Whether you can attend or not, I hope you are able to read along with us. Any translation will be fine, but to avoid buying a “word dump” on Amazon be sure to get a volume from a reputable publisher such as Penguin, Random House, FSG, Picador, Oxford, Liveright, Signet, Everyman, etc.
On the Web: The Living Church “Covenant” journal published last week a meditation I wrote on the hymn that begins, “I’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath.” What struck me particularly comes in the hymn’s second and third lines: “and when my voice is lost in death, / praise shall employ my nobler powers.” Is it not breathtaking to think we will be able to praise God with “nobler powers” even when we have no more breath! You can find it here: https://livingchurch.org/covenant/praising-god-in-death/